Mama To The Rescue
I’ve written about my grandfather, Archibald A. Warden, who was a medal Olympian, and how he had wanted Mama to also strive to be an accomplished athlete. Mama was, indeed, a gifted woman athletically. Of course we, (my siblings and I)never realized just how talented she was. Even in her later years as a senior adult, she was able to shame us kids when we tried to compete with her. Sure, we were perhaps quicker and had more endurance, but you could just watch her swing a tennis racket with smooth strokes that belied her age, and know that she would almost certainly beat any of us in a match. All of that was done while wearing the community clothes, ankle length dresses of days long past. But tennis was not her only forte. It was in her seventies when I watched her swimming in Cameo Lake in New York. With powerful smooth strokes she cut through the waters with hardly a ripple. Indeed, she was truly blessed with athletic prowess and grace.
I remember a couple of incidences that occurred while we were living in Paraguay. Her athleticism came in handy when she rescued my younger sister from a fire. Selma, my sister, had insisted on having a lighted candle in the window that was located by her bed. She had wanted to fall asleep to candle-light. However, the candle caught a curtain on fire. Seeing the fire, Mama jumped through the dining room window into Selma’s bedroom and ripped the curtains from the window, then, while the material burned she jumped back, threw the burning material out the window, jumped back through the window, and extinguished the flames.
Then there was another time that Mama jumped through a window. On that occasion, though, Mama was not intent on saving one of her children, but was concerned about a rabbit that wandered too close to a dog. Seeing the danger that the rabbit had put itself into, Mama once again hurled herself through the window and rescued the hapless rabbit from the jaws of said dog. “Ole!!”
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Charndon, England
Charndon, England
George left Munich near the end of October, 1963, to return to his base in England. I immediately began preparing for my exodus to join him there. It was an easy decision to leave where I worked, as I never really felt comfortable with my co-workers, nor for that matter with many of the acquaintances that I had made in the couple of years I lived there. Leaving my Grandfather, aunts, uncles and cousins was another matter altogether. Leaving my aging Opa was especially difficult. We had grown very close and it was with a heavy heart when I informed him of my intentions. Surprisingly, though he also was saddened, he understood that I did not fit into the Munich life and that I would be happier with George.
Some of my other relatives felt that I should not be leaving Munich to join the American. They did not think that we knew enough about each other to make such a quick decision. Actually, I could understand their concern, for George and I had only known each other for less than a month, and I must admit that there was apprehension on my part. What if George never met me in England? What if he changed his mind? What if he decided not to marry me? Still, no matter what happened with George, I had decided to leave Germany. I missed my mother, father and siblings and wanted to be closer to them.
At the time Mama and Papa were living outside of the community, so there would be no restriction on my joining them, at least until I found a job. If George and I were to be married, then everything would be alright. If George did not show up, well….. I did not want to think about that.
It was December 6, and George was supposed to meet my train at 11:00 P.M. Problem!
George thought he was to meet the train at 11:00 A.M. The train arrived and departed, and George was there ON TIME, or so he thought. Naturally, I was not on board. Poor George! He left the station and returned when the next train was due. Still, no Mandy! There was no way that we could communicate. In the meantime, I was worried that George would change his mind and not be there to meet the train. But I had no idea what was on George’s mind as I was not on the train on which he thought I was arriving.
I finally arrived at the appointed place, and at the correct time of 11:00 P.M.. Cautiously, I began to look for George. It had grown late before the train reached the station, which made me even more concerned. When I looked around the station I suddenly felt a rush of relief. There he was! Un-be-known to me, though, George had waited 12 hours! He watched as several trains came and went with nary a sight of Mandy. I need not have concerned myself about George changing his mind about me, having waited 12 hours it turned out that he was worried that I had changed my mind about him.
My family and George hit it off at once. There was George at six foot three inches, and my parents barely over five foot. My parents were pacifists while George was an airman on active duty. Yet, from the beginning there was genuine affection between my parents and George. My brothers and sisters received George in the same way. I lived with my family for the next five months, from December through May. It was during that period of time that George and I were able to really get to know each other, and for my family to get acquainted with and to solidify and already affectionate relationship.
George left Munich near the end of October, 1963, to return to his base in England. I immediately began preparing for my exodus to join him there. It was an easy decision to leave where I worked, as I never really felt comfortable with my co-workers, nor for that matter with many of the acquaintances that I had made in the couple of years I lived there. Leaving my Grandfather, aunts, uncles and cousins was another matter altogether. Leaving my aging Opa was especially difficult. We had grown very close and it was with a heavy heart when I informed him of my intentions. Surprisingly, though he also was saddened, he understood that I did not fit into the Munich life and that I would be happier with George.
Some of my other relatives felt that I should not be leaving Munich to join the American. They did not think that we knew enough about each other to make such a quick decision. Actually, I could understand their concern, for George and I had only known each other for less than a month, and I must admit that there was apprehension on my part. What if George never met me in England? What if he changed his mind? What if he decided not to marry me? Still, no matter what happened with George, I had decided to leave Germany. I missed my mother, father and siblings and wanted to be closer to them.
At the time Mama and Papa were living outside of the community, so there would be no restriction on my joining them, at least until I found a job. If George and I were to be married, then everything would be alright. If George did not show up, well….. I did not want to think about that.
It was December 6, and George was supposed to meet my train at 11:00 P.M. Problem!
George thought he was to meet the train at 11:00 A.M. The train arrived and departed, and George was there ON TIME, or so he thought. Naturally, I was not on board. Poor George! He left the station and returned when the next train was due. Still, no Mandy! There was no way that we could communicate. In the meantime, I was worried that George would change his mind and not be there to meet the train. But I had no idea what was on George’s mind as I was not on the train on which he thought I was arriving.
I finally arrived at the appointed place, and at the correct time of 11:00 P.M.. Cautiously, I began to look for George. It had grown late before the train reached the station, which made me even more concerned. When I looked around the station I suddenly felt a rush of relief. There he was! Un-be-known to me, though, George had waited 12 hours! He watched as several trains came and went with nary a sight of Mandy. I need not have concerned myself about George changing his mind about me, having waited 12 hours it turned out that he was worried that I had changed my mind about him.
My family and George hit it off at once. There was George at six foot three inches, and my parents barely over five foot. My parents were pacifists while George was an airman on active duty. Yet, from the beginning there was genuine affection between my parents and George. My brothers and sisters received George in the same way. I lived with my family for the next five months, from December through May. It was during that period of time that George and I were able to really get to know each other, and for my family to get acquainted with and to solidify and already affectionate relationship.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Munich
Munich, Germany
From the time that I first arrived in Germany, I felt that I was different from the people that I met. I never felt accepted. German was my first language, and that should have been sufficient for me to be accepted by those with whom I was in contact . My German was good, as that was what we spoke at home. However, my German was too perfect. Because I had spent my entire life in an environment that was completely isolated from any dialect or slang, the people that I met thought that I was either putting on airs, or was from East Germany. I attempted to explain about my life in Paraguay and told stories of many of my experiences there, but they could not imagine that anything that different from their own lives could be true. In any case, they were always suspicious of me. My Aunt Lolly helped me get hired at Siemen’s Company, and I was trained as a key- punch operator. All day long I sat at a desk and typed numbers in cards. To be sure, it was a boring existence. But it was a job and made it possible to put some food on the table.
There was a woman at Siemens that I became friends with named Bertha Schmidt. Frau Schmidt was married to a chemical engineer, and had lived in San Diego. Actually, she and her husband had their residence in San Diego and had only returned to Munich to be with their aging parents. She also noticed that I seemed different, but she took an interest in me and was going to sponsor me to go to America, as she was sure that I would be happier there. Because she had lived in other places in the world, and not just Germany, Bertha understood how I felt. Naturally, we became friends very quickly.
Bertha invited me to join her and some other ladies from work to attend the Octoberfest. When I asked her what exactly the Octoberfest was, and after she explained about the beer and wurst, I was reluctant to join them. Bertha explained that all the women would stay together, and besides, some women had met their husbands there. I , of course, promptly replied sarcastically, “I’m sure that’s a fine place to find a husband”. But in spite of all my reservations I agreed to join them. I must admit that I had a good time, even if I did not like beer.
During the evening of “oompah” music, Frau Schmidt, after going to the ladies’ room, anxiously approached me. She wanted me to meet an American G.I. I was not in favor of it. Still though, I again agreed to follow her suggestion. However, there were two Americans that came to us, and they both joined with our group in drinking and singing. We were having a good time, and I was glad that Bertha brought the Americans to join us. I was sitting between the two Americans and both of them, without the other knowing it, were asking to take me home. Of course, after spending most of my life in an environment that did not allow dating, I had no idea that they were both wanting to date me. Bert, one of the prospective suitors, was sweet, but was like a “teddy-bear“, short and chubby, not unlike “Winnie The Pooh”. The other was the opposite. He was tall and dark, with dark brown hair and eyes. That was October, 1963.
George had a very good sense of humor, but more importantly, he showed a great interest in my background and believed the things I told him. George and Bert were in Munich on leave, and we met on their first night in Germany. It was George that took me home that night. The problem, was that we had taken the last tram for the evening, just to get me to where I lived. George was left with the task of finding his way from my Uncle Max’s house to his hotel near the train station. I pointed George down the tram tracks in the direction of the city center, taught him to ask, “where is the train station,” and off he went. There it was, after midnight in a foreign country with no ability in the German language, except the phrase, “wo ist der Hauptbahnhof”? George said that everything went fine, until a fork in the tracks came and again he had to find someone on the street at that time of night, to ask, “wo ist der Hauptbahnhof”? I am still not sure how many forks were on the tracks, or how long it took George to walk home, but he did finally arrive at his destination, tired from the long walk, but otherwise safe and in one piece!
We were to meet the next evening after work at a pre-arranged place that we both could find. Bert was going to join us, which was a good thing, because I had forgotten what George looked like. It was only after seeing Bert and George together again was I sure which of the two was, in fact, George.
For the next couple of weeks, the three of us met daily. We visited many of the sights of Munich, and had a very nice time until Bert had to return to England as his leave time was used up. George decided to stay as he still had a couple weeks of unused leave. I brought George to meet my Uncle Max and Aunt Clara. They hit it off immediately! In fact, all my relatives were favorable to George. My Aunt Lolly, though was concerned about George’s height. She thought that because he was so tall he was not able to find any girls in America that would go with him.
It was fun watching this “Yankee” who’s entire German vocabulary consisted of a few phrases such as: “wurst mit kraut und eine cola, bitte”, or “ein bier bitte”, actually communicate with my aunt and uncle. Communication was further confused because Aunt Clara and Uncle Max were deaf-mutes. They all worked at understanding each other, and surprisingly got along very well. I was especially surprised with the reception that George received from my Grandfather. Every day at noon with his meal Opa would have a beer with his lunch. While George was there Opa actually opened his beer and insisted that George share it with him. That was a truly sincere act of acceptance and respect that Opa had shown to George. There had been a young man on the ship that brought us from Paraguay, and I guess that he thought I had a thing for him. On the ship we were together a lot, but there was never any kind of physical attraction. At least on my part our relationship was purely platonic. To my amazement, he followed me to Munich! He wanted to marry me! He went to Opa’s house to get me. Opa was furious and from the first did not like him. In fact, he made him leave. So you can imagine my excitement at how George was welcomed into their homes. Perhaps they all recognized that I did not quite fit into Munich life and that George would take good care of me.
George’s leave time passed too quickly, and it soon was time for him to return to England. However, George asked me to marry him ! Needless to say, I said yes! Immediately I made plans to leave Germany and join him in England.
Although my Grandfather and Aunts and Uncle were apprehensive about my making such a decision, I wanted to join George. Besides, if George was not the person that I thought he was, I felt that being close to my parents and siblings was better than life in Munich. In spite of the desire to be with George and my family, it was quite difficult to leave Opa, Aunts Lolly and Clara and Uncle Max, Hermann and all of my cousins. In the few years that I was in Munich we had become very close.
From the time that I first arrived in Germany, I felt that I was different from the people that I met. I never felt accepted. German was my first language, and that should have been sufficient for me to be accepted by those with whom I was in contact . My German was good, as that was what we spoke at home. However, my German was too perfect. Because I had spent my entire life in an environment that was completely isolated from any dialect or slang, the people that I met thought that I was either putting on airs, or was from East Germany. I attempted to explain about my life in Paraguay and told stories of many of my experiences there, but they could not imagine that anything that different from their own lives could be true. In any case, they were always suspicious of me. My Aunt Lolly helped me get hired at Siemen’s Company, and I was trained as a key- punch operator. All day long I sat at a desk and typed numbers in cards. To be sure, it was a boring existence. But it was a job and made it possible to put some food on the table.
There was a woman at Siemens that I became friends with named Bertha Schmidt. Frau Schmidt was married to a chemical engineer, and had lived in San Diego. Actually, she and her husband had their residence in San Diego and had only returned to Munich to be with their aging parents. She also noticed that I seemed different, but she took an interest in me and was going to sponsor me to go to America, as she was sure that I would be happier there. Because she had lived in other places in the world, and not just Germany, Bertha understood how I felt. Naturally, we became friends very quickly.
Bertha invited me to join her and some other ladies from work to attend the Octoberfest. When I asked her what exactly the Octoberfest was, and after she explained about the beer and wurst, I was reluctant to join them. Bertha explained that all the women would stay together, and besides, some women had met their husbands there. I , of course, promptly replied sarcastically, “I’m sure that’s a fine place to find a husband”. But in spite of all my reservations I agreed to join them. I must admit that I had a good time, even if I did not like beer.
During the evening of “oompah” music, Frau Schmidt, after going to the ladies’ room, anxiously approached me. She wanted me to meet an American G.I. I was not in favor of it. Still though, I again agreed to follow her suggestion. However, there were two Americans that came to us, and they both joined with our group in drinking and singing. We were having a good time, and I was glad that Bertha brought the Americans to join us. I was sitting between the two Americans and both of them, without the other knowing it, were asking to take me home. Of course, after spending most of my life in an environment that did not allow dating, I had no idea that they were both wanting to date me. Bert, one of the prospective suitors, was sweet, but was like a “teddy-bear“, short and chubby, not unlike “Winnie The Pooh”. The other was the opposite. He was tall and dark, with dark brown hair and eyes. That was October, 1963.
George had a very good sense of humor, but more importantly, he showed a great interest in my background and believed the things I told him. George and Bert were in Munich on leave, and we met on their first night in Germany. It was George that took me home that night. The problem, was that we had taken the last tram for the evening, just to get me to where I lived. George was left with the task of finding his way from my Uncle Max’s house to his hotel near the train station. I pointed George down the tram tracks in the direction of the city center, taught him to ask, “where is the train station,” and off he went. There it was, after midnight in a foreign country with no ability in the German language, except the phrase, “wo ist der Hauptbahnhof”? George said that everything went fine, until a fork in the tracks came and again he had to find someone on the street at that time of night, to ask, “wo ist der Hauptbahnhof”? I am still not sure how many forks were on the tracks, or how long it took George to walk home, but he did finally arrive at his destination, tired from the long walk, but otherwise safe and in one piece!
We were to meet the next evening after work at a pre-arranged place that we both could find. Bert was going to join us, which was a good thing, because I had forgotten what George looked like. It was only after seeing Bert and George together again was I sure which of the two was, in fact, George.
For the next couple of weeks, the three of us met daily. We visited many of the sights of Munich, and had a very nice time until Bert had to return to England as his leave time was used up. George decided to stay as he still had a couple weeks of unused leave. I brought George to meet my Uncle Max and Aunt Clara. They hit it off immediately! In fact, all my relatives were favorable to George. My Aunt Lolly, though was concerned about George’s height. She thought that because he was so tall he was not able to find any girls in America that would go with him.
It was fun watching this “Yankee” who’s entire German vocabulary consisted of a few phrases such as: “wurst mit kraut und eine cola, bitte”, or “ein bier bitte”, actually communicate with my aunt and uncle. Communication was further confused because Aunt Clara and Uncle Max were deaf-mutes. They all worked at understanding each other, and surprisingly got along very well. I was especially surprised with the reception that George received from my Grandfather. Every day at noon with his meal Opa would have a beer with his lunch. While George was there Opa actually opened his beer and insisted that George share it with him. That was a truly sincere act of acceptance and respect that Opa had shown to George. There had been a young man on the ship that brought us from Paraguay, and I guess that he thought I had a thing for him. On the ship we were together a lot, but there was never any kind of physical attraction. At least on my part our relationship was purely platonic. To my amazement, he followed me to Munich! He wanted to marry me! He went to Opa’s house to get me. Opa was furious and from the first did not like him. In fact, he made him leave. So you can imagine my excitement at how George was welcomed into their homes. Perhaps they all recognized that I did not quite fit into Munich life and that George would take good care of me.
George’s leave time passed too quickly, and it soon was time for him to return to England. However, George asked me to marry him ! Needless to say, I said yes! Immediately I made plans to leave Germany and join him in England.
Although my Grandfather and Aunts and Uncle were apprehensive about my making such a decision, I wanted to join George. Besides, if George was not the person that I thought he was, I felt that being close to my parents and siblings was better than life in Munich. In spite of the desire to be with George and my family, it was quite difficult to leave Opa, Aunts Lolly and Clara and Uncle Max, Hermann and all of my cousins. In the few years that I was in Munich we had become very close.
Sergei
There have been many interesting people that have been connected with the Paraguayan “Bruderhof”, but perhaps the man with the most fascinating story, at least of the people that I was acquainted with, was a Russian man named Sergei. In 1914, Sergei was a personal guard to the Czar. Of course, 1914 was the year of the communist revolution and overthrow of the Russian government. The coup was bloody, and atrocities occurred to both sides. Sergei’s experience, though, went beyond any semblance of wartime cruelty.
Sergei was tied to a tree, and forced to witness the execution of his entire family. I cannot possibly imagine the grief and pain that Sergei had endured due to the abhorrent acts that had been perpetrated. Sergei, in the end, was able to escape from the communists, and eventually made his way to South America.
I am not sure of the time-line involved in Sergei’s trek from Russia, nor do I know what routes he traversed, nor the hardships he endured to arrive, as he did, in Paraguay. There was a Russian doctor that practiced medicine in a Mennonite hospital some miles away from where Sergei’s house was located. I know that they were friends, but I do not know, at this point, if they helped each other escape Russia or if they became acquainted after they both arrived in Paraguay. In any case, Sergei had a small house very near the “Bruderhof” and the community hired him to help in clearing the jungle.
Although Sergei lived by himself and was quiet in nature, he was well liked by the members of the “Bruderhof”. Papa, especially, had a good relationship with him. I, also, liked Sergei, as did all the other children, because he would purchase candy at the Mennonite village and pass it out to all of us. However, because of the language problems the children were not able to talk with Sergei, but in spite of the difficulty in verbal communication, there was an obvious affection between Sergei and us kids. Papa and Sergei, though, were able to communicate quite well with each other. Somehow they were able to mix their German and Russia and come up with a viable way to get their ideas across to each other.
Sergei liked to fish in the Tapiraquay River, and was always able to land a lot of fish. I was especially impressed with the real nylon lines and genuine hooks that he had. We had to rely on cotton string with make-shift hooks. Sergei’s other passion, apart from fishing, was a butterfly collection that he had amassed. Probably, more than anything else, that collection was his most prized possession.
Then, in the early 1950s, a meteor struck Ibate, right next to Sergei’s house. I think that I was about eleven or twelve at the time. The meteor crash caused a tremendous boom. It was louder than any thunderstorm. I had never heard such a loud noise. I have heard sonic-booms from jet planes that, perhaps, would come close, but that thunderous boom was frightening! The pandemonium that ensued was also frightening.
There were cowboys, some miles away that watched as the meteor descended and crashed into the ground, and they hurriedly rode their horses toward the impact sight. Simultaneously, all the light bulbs in the village burst. I really mean that every bulb popped! A lady, who was the night-watch-person, was making her rounds and was checking on the sleeping children. She had just put her hand on a light switch to turn lights on when the meteor hit. She was zapped! Though the surge knocked her out, she did survive, and although outwardly shaken up, was alright.
At the same time, Sergei’s house caught on fire. Papa was close by and heard Sergei screaming. Running to Sergei’s house, Papa helped Sergei save what he could. Sergei was hysterical, one of his guns went off, and saltpeter that was being stored in the attic caught fire. In spite of Sergei’s hysteria, Papa and Sergei hastily gathered guns and furniture along with any pertinent articles they could save. Sadly, though, Sergei’s beloved butterfly collection, along with many of the glass covered boxes, were mostly destroyed by the growing inferno.
After the fire subsided, Papa heard Sergei crying and lamenting that God had to be mad at him otherwise all the things that occurred in his life would not have happened. Regardless of the many hardships that Sergei endured during his lifetime, the love and support of those families closest to him, surely was a source of great strength to him even after the comet came crashing down.
Sergei was tied to a tree, and forced to witness the execution of his entire family. I cannot possibly imagine the grief and pain that Sergei had endured due to the abhorrent acts that had been perpetrated. Sergei, in the end, was able to escape from the communists, and eventually made his way to South America.
I am not sure of the time-line involved in Sergei’s trek from Russia, nor do I know what routes he traversed, nor the hardships he endured to arrive, as he did, in Paraguay. There was a Russian doctor that practiced medicine in a Mennonite hospital some miles away from where Sergei’s house was located. I know that they were friends, but I do not know, at this point, if they helped each other escape Russia or if they became acquainted after they both arrived in Paraguay. In any case, Sergei had a small house very near the “Bruderhof” and the community hired him to help in clearing the jungle.
Although Sergei lived by himself and was quiet in nature, he was well liked by the members of the “Bruderhof”. Papa, especially, had a good relationship with him. I, also, liked Sergei, as did all the other children, because he would purchase candy at the Mennonite village and pass it out to all of us. However, because of the language problems the children were not able to talk with Sergei, but in spite of the difficulty in verbal communication, there was an obvious affection between Sergei and us kids. Papa and Sergei, though, were able to communicate quite well with each other. Somehow they were able to mix their German and Russia and come up with a viable way to get their ideas across to each other.
Sergei liked to fish in the Tapiraquay River, and was always able to land a lot of fish. I was especially impressed with the real nylon lines and genuine hooks that he had. We had to rely on cotton string with make-shift hooks. Sergei’s other passion, apart from fishing, was a butterfly collection that he had amassed. Probably, more than anything else, that collection was his most prized possession.
Then, in the early 1950s, a meteor struck Ibate, right next to Sergei’s house. I think that I was about eleven or twelve at the time. The meteor crash caused a tremendous boom. It was louder than any thunderstorm. I had never heard such a loud noise. I have heard sonic-booms from jet planes that, perhaps, would come close, but that thunderous boom was frightening! The pandemonium that ensued was also frightening.
There were cowboys, some miles away that watched as the meteor descended and crashed into the ground, and they hurriedly rode their horses toward the impact sight. Simultaneously, all the light bulbs in the village burst. I really mean that every bulb popped! A lady, who was the night-watch-person, was making her rounds and was checking on the sleeping children. She had just put her hand on a light switch to turn lights on when the meteor hit. She was zapped! Though the surge knocked her out, she did survive, and although outwardly shaken up, was alright.
At the same time, Sergei’s house caught on fire. Papa was close by and heard Sergei screaming. Running to Sergei’s house, Papa helped Sergei save what he could. Sergei was hysterical, one of his guns went off, and saltpeter that was being stored in the attic caught fire. In spite of Sergei’s hysteria, Papa and Sergei hastily gathered guns and furniture along with any pertinent articles they could save. Sadly, though, Sergei’s beloved butterfly collection, along with many of the glass covered boxes, were mostly destroyed by the growing inferno.
After the fire subsided, Papa heard Sergei crying and lamenting that God had to be mad at him otherwise all the things that occurred in his life would not have happened. Regardless of the many hardships that Sergei endured during his lifetime, the love and support of those families closest to him, surely was a source of great strength to him even after the comet came crashing down.
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