In March of 1967 our family moved to Wiesbaden, Germany for two and a half years. I left in August of 1969 to head to college and my family got to return to the US in October of 1969 aboard the SS United States. That was a trip I wished I could have made too, but I get ahead of myself. Right after we arrived in January of 1967 Dad took us all to Garmish. He had moved there a few months earlier until we could get housing and so he had scoped out things to do. He also clearly stated that "WE are not going to be like those stupid Americans who come here and never leave the base unless they have to. We are going to see Europe". And we did. Boy did we. In fact by the time I left in 1969 I thought that if I NEVER saw another cathedral, castle or museum it would be too soon. Every spare moment we were visiting new places, people and events. It was a great high school experience and I loved it.
But again, I digress. Back to when we first arrived. So in January of 1967 we visited Garmish. A lovely little town up in the Alps. On Sunday morning before we returned to Wiesbaden, after I was all packed and ready to leave, I walked out on the balcony of our hotel and heard the church chimes rining across the hills and valleys and watched the slow giant snowflakes lazily drop to join the drifts scattered everywhere. Moving. Spectacular. Fabulous. I thought, "I am going to like it here." And I did.
In March we took another trip south and visited and stayed for a weekend at Berchtesgaden. We went off to Obersalzburg and visited the salt mines. We got to dress up as miners, ride little trains and slide down three slides - as I recall they were 80, 60 and 120 feet, but I could be wrong about that. A good time was had by all except my little brother (he's the little guy in front in the first photo above). Well, he had a good time too until he had his hand touching the wood as we slid and gave himself a friction burn. Ouch!
While riding the train I met Eric Brenner, maybe Brennan and that evening he took me out to dinner where I was treated to my first chateubriand. What an adventure and a fun memory.
In the photos above, my parents and brother are in the front of the train on the first photo. I haven't found my sister yet although she's got to be in there somewhere and she probably knows where she was sitting. I think I'm the last person on the back of the second photo. Love these trips down memory lane.
