Photo on right: Hochdorf am Neckar, Germany, where we lived during 1968-69.
Date: Wed, 21 Apr 2010
OK. I didn't know whether you wanted to get together so I could induct you into the secret society of Wilson's and thus bestow my knowledge upon you. Perhaps it’s the way you worded the request, did you want to get together or did you want us to email you our story?? Here's some of my story. Let me know if you want to get together.
Born in Albuquerque, NM in 1955. Moved to Oregon when Dad started teaching at Eastern Oregon College (now Eastern Oregon University?) fall of 1956. We began going to Indiana that summer as Dad started his doctorate program at Indiana University. Because of this I didn't spend a summer in Oregon for the first ten years I lived here. Plus we essentially moved twice a year. Often to the same house, or in Indiana, the same student housing (which were surplus Army barracks that had been moved to make a student housing complex, very similar to the old Amazon student housing here).
By the time I was ten or eleven I got to spend my summers in heaven, I mean Oregon. How cool was that? I had no idea how nice it was here. In Indiana it was hot and muggy. There were little bugs in the grass called chiggers that bit you all over if you laid in one place for too long. Also there was heat lighting at night which meant it might shower and cool down, or just stay hot, too hot to fall asleep. So we tossed and turned in bed. And sweated some more. Dad bought a fan that installed in the window and we'd open a window on the opposite end of the apartment and suck cooler air through so that it would cool the place down. A bit.
In Oregon I loved playing baseball in the spring and summer. We had a local organization Eugene Boys Athletic Association (EBAA) which became Kidsports when they discovered that girls liked sports too. Third and Fourth grade boys played Pee Wee League and Fifth and Sixth graders were in Cubs. So if you were a Third grader you played in the outfield and sat on the bench because the Fourth grade boys were faster and better and we sucked at throwing and catching and batting (and most things baseball). But when we were Fourth graders look out, cause we rocked! Now we were playing infield, showing those Third graders how to play the game. Oh, and then we were in Fifth grade so we were back in the outfield, or on the bench, cause the Sixth graders were so much better........
Well between Oregon and Indiana is a lot of country. And we drove. Not much faster than 55 mph. Once or twice in a Ford (that I don't remember) and then in a Borgward (yes, it really was a car, made in Germany, a little four banger station wagon). Kinda like one of the old Peugots you might see around driven by a UofO grad that forgot to get a job in a different town, so they're still here. You get the picture. But I digress. Cause I graduated and didn't leave. But that's why I'm writing you this so you understand you're favorite Uncle and don't think of him as a pathetic loser that forgot to grow up and leave town after he graduated from college. Ok, where was I?
Between Oregon and Indiana. We drove Oregon to New Mexico to Indiana or Indiana, New Mexico, Oregon on one of the legs of the trip each summer. That meant blazing hot deserts of Mojave and Arizona without air conditioning. But we'd visit Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles and Cousins on both sides of the family. Cause that's where Mom and Dad met, fell in love, married and moved away. Way out West. Where we are now. Funny though, in the first twenty years we lived in Oregon my Grandma Rita (Dad's mother) visited once and my Uncle Tom (Mom's brother, not a reference to someone in a non-pc way) visited once. Makes you wonder whether they really liked us. The world was a bigger place then and Oregon seemed really far away to people who lived in Albuquerque so they didn't come visit much. Thus visiting Albuquerque was always a favorite stop because we were treated like Kings! Or maybe Lewis and Clark. We had ventured into the unknown, and returned! You get the idea.
The rest of the drive was through states like Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska. Big states where you could drive all day and barely leave them. Especially at 55. Or Colorado where we drove through the Rockies and wondered whether the car was going to over heat. Or Diane was gonna puke. Cause one way or the other, about the third day, one of us got car sick. Then we learned the survival skill of puking out the window cause on a hot summer day puke in the car was not cool. It stunk. It was usually a five day drive between Oregon and Indiana and those drives are etched in my mind. There weren't a lot of freeways, mostly two lane highways. Albuquerque was on Route 66 so I can now sing the song know I've been through "...Gallup, New Mexico. Flagstaff, Arizona, Don't forget Winonna, Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino. Wait, we headed north around Barstow so we never made it to San Bernadino! We drove to Sacramento to Redding and north to Oregon on that narrow, twisty highway that you can still see some of as you zoom along the freeway over the pass into Ashland.
I could go on but after making that trip twice a year, bookending the summer as it were, Dad decided to direct a study abroad program called the German Music Center. With about thirty college students. Four or five of which were hot coeds. At least to a twelve year old. But I was young and didn't know what I was doing so I didn't get them in any trouble. I did go to a German school. Learned a little German. Sat in class and read a lot. Participated in English (duh), music, math, PE, and read through the rest. There was yogurt in the little cups like we know now but didn't eat in the US.
We spent the first month traveling on a bus through France, Switzerland, Austria, into Hungary. Back through Austria into southern Germany to Munich and the Oktoberfest where I had my first liter of beer. Hic. It made me sleepy and happy. Then north to Stuttgart where we would spend the second year and finally north again to Oldenburg. We lived in a little village out of town called Bad Zwischenahn. It was on a lake, it was cold, there was snow on the ground most of the winter. And I read a lot. And listened to records. Simon and Garfunkle, the Beatles. Mostly the Beatles.
In the spring we made a trip to Berlin and Hannover. Berlin was a divided city, the Russians controlled the eastern half and we had to drive through East Germany to get there. Communism looked bleak to me. Hungary was gray compared to the rest of Europe. The people were sullen in the eastern bloc countries and contrasted to the vibrancy on western Europe.
That summer we drove through England to Scotland, then to Wales and across a ferry to Ireland, then back to London. Three weeks in all. I was in heaven because everyone spoke English. I couldn't always understand them but if I listened carefully I could. Eighth grade I went to a school for US Army dependents near Stuttgart. The kids were "army brats" and knew each other from living on bases in different parts of the world. Some of the kids mothers were German and their dad's were serving in Vietnam so they were living close to their mom's families. That experience and visiting Dachua twice made me a pacifist. War is a waste of people's lives and material resources. And it messes up the survivors heads so then we all need to heal for twenty years or another generation.
Ok, I'm tired. I write more later if you like. But this is why I've stayed in Oregon. I love to travel and I love to come home. I love my friends and family here. I've been fortunate enough to have seen a lot of this county and other parts of the world. And this is a really good place. Compared to a lot of places I've seen.
Chapter II might be the tale of two crazy wives!
Good night.
