Brushes & Blueprints Memoirs By Gerald William Froehlich PART TWO - pages 166 to 388 ANOTHER LIFE Laura Goodell Laura was born September 14, 1946 at the General Hospital in Pontiac, Michigan, to Kenneth E. Goodell and Irene Bowmaster Goodell. Her parents had been neighbors in Pontiac, married in September 1935, but in 1946 were living on what had been a small farm, 15 miles west of Pontiac, in White Lake Township, on Cedar Island Road, then a mostly rural area. Laura's father, who was born in 1907, came from a farming family in the "thumb" area of east central Michigan and her mother, born in 1909 was from Grand Rapids, Michigan, where her father worked as a carpenter. Both families relocated to Pontiac for work opportunities in that booming industrial city. Laura's father, who was the oldest child, had 3 sisters, Louise (married to Ewing Tate), Clara (married to Luther Pearsall) and Cora (married to Gene Holstein) and also a younger brother Carl, who died of pneumonia when only 18 or 19 years old. Her mother had 3 older sisters, Edna (married to "Rob" Robinson), Betty (who never married) and Dorothy (married to Arthur Kaphengst), and an older brother, Carl (Carl's first wife died and in his later years he married a widow, Marge). Her mother had a younger sister, Kate (married to Harvey Faber), a younger brother, Harold, and the youngest, a sister Laurabelle, who also never married. All of Laura's cousins were boys, mostly older than Laura, except for Karen Holstein, who was Laura's age and who became her lifelong best friend. Karen graduated from nursing school and when she married John Murdock, Laura was the bridesmaid. By the time of our marriage in 1984, all of Laura's uncles had died (except for Harold who lived in California) as had her aunts Cora and Edna, so the family of her parent's generation consisted mostly of widowed and maiden aunts (Aunt Dorothy, in her old age, moved to Arizona and did remarry). That generation, now all gone, shaped by the Great Depression and the industrial revolution, went from a rural way of life to factory jobs in towns and cities (many in my parent's generation were part of this same passage). At family gatherings Laura remembers that the main topics of conversation were cars and retirement (nearly all the menfolk, and some of the women, worked in the auto plants). Although Laura's father had a job at a General Motors factory in Pontiac, he decided that buying a small farm would provide a level of backup security in the troubled economy of the 1930s (he was with General Motors until he retired, never operating the place as a farm, although he leased some of the land to neighboring farmers). We have a photo, winter in late afternoon, probably about 1940, with Laura's father driving a horse and sleigh through deep snow along Cedar Island Road, and riding along is Lizzie Dicke, an elderly widow from a nearby farm. By the time Laura was born, the old farmhouse (built in the late 1800s) had been modernized, with a deep well, indoor plumbing and electricity, a kitchen wing had been added and hardwood floors installed in the first-floor rooms (from trees harvested by Laura's father), and a white picket fence had been added to keep Laura safely in the yard (Cedar Island Road, then a country dirt road, is gravel now but still not paved, the picket fence is gone). Laura's brother, David, was born in 1950. In those years, life was filled not only with visits from the many aunts and uncles, but also many friends and neighbors drawn by Laura's gregarious father. One group of friends, who named themselves the "Horse Traders" would often get together and two couples of this group, Pat and Earl Smith, and Jess and Hilda Weaver, were still close friends of the family when Laura and I married (Earl Smith (the family name originally was "Schmidt") was a test driver at the GM proving Grounds). Laura's father built a new barn and raised horses (Laura always had a riding horse) and David was made to raise cows. Laura's mother was very much involved with activities at Cedar Crest Lutheran Church (in a village a few miles to the east) where Laura went to Sunday School and was confirmed, and her mother also became involved in the local 4-H (probably mostly for Laura's benefit). Laura remembers (not fondly) having to bake many practice cherry pies to enter a 4-H pie baking contest. Laura's mother also drove her to the nearby town of Milford for flute lessons (she played flute in the Milford High School marching band) and to a nearby subdivision for piano lessons and her rendition of a Chopin polonaise (Le Militaire) was her father's favorite. Junior and senior high school also meant a daily bus ride to Milford and after graduating from Milford High School, Laura enrolled as an education major (options for young women were limited then) at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo where she also continued her piano studies. During summer breaks Laura worked at her Aunt Betty's office in Cleveland (and lived with Aunt Betty) who by then had an important position at a Cleveland company. In her senior year (fall of 1967) Laura had an opportunity to enroll in a study program in the U.K., mostly in Wales. When the program ended, and before returning home, she and a friend decided to see more of Europe, hitchhiking through France, Spain, Italy, Austria and Germany which was quite a daring enterprise for 2 young women at the time (or anytime for that matter) and her parents were never told of this adventure. On graduation Laura had no specific agenda so for the summer she took a job as youth counselor at a camp on the East Coast. Here she acquired the nom de plume "Pete R. Rabbit" and met a group of fellow counselors who spoke in a strange dialect and who were obsessed with a baseball team called the "Reds." At summer's end these Cincinnati folks suggested that Laura come to their city as the school board was looking for teachers. By the fall of 1968 Laura was teaching at a near West Side elementary school and living with a West Side Catholic family. Concordia Lutheran Church in Over-the-Rhine was the "mother" Missouri Synod congregation in Cincinnati and Laura became a member. When Concordia moved to a new location in Clifton (1969), Laura became a founding member of the new congregation, Prince of Peace Lutheran Church. She became committed to working with the inner-city ministries of Prince of Peace, and by early 1972, now living in Over-the-Rhine, she became founder/director of the Prince of Peace preschool, a position which she held, as "Pete R. Rabbit" for 15 years. Laura was also active in the community as a member of the Urban Appalachian Council and a president of the Over-the-Rhine Community Council. For several years, she also took in a foster child, a young girl from Over-the-Rhine. To complement her busy life, Laura began work on a Master's Degree in Early Childhood Education at Xavier University, riding her bike from Over-the-Rhine to the Xavier campus in Avondale and she also restarted her passion for piano, taking and giving piano lessons. During this time things were changing at her home place. With the "white flight" from Detroit, the farms, fields and woodlands were vanishing under the encroachment of interstate highways, shopping malls and subdivisions, and summer cottages at the many lakes were being replaced by large permanent homes. Laura's father advanced at General Motors, eventually becoming "Fire Chief" in charge of plant production at the Pontiac factories and when he retired in 1973, the folks went to Florida for a part of each winter at a mobile home park in Zephyr Hills (Laura's Aunt Kate and Uncle Harvey had retired and permanently relocated to Zephyr Hills and their friends Jess and Hilda Weaver were also spending the winter months in Zephyr Hills). Lizzie Dicke's farm was purchased by Jim Reid (a farmer) but by 1980 he had divided the land into lots for a subdivision. Earl Smith had retired so he and Pat purchased land on Grand Cayman Island in the Caribbean and they spent winters there building a new home (Pat was originally from Australia where Earl was stationed during the war and Pat became a "war bride"). Laura's Aunt Betty and Aunt Laurabelle had moved to Las Vegas and after retirement moved to Arizona. Laura's brother married Susan Chall in 1972 and he converted the barn into a fine two-story house. By then there were no more farms or riding horses on Cedar Island Road. Courtship Laura and I were members of Prince of Peace Lutheran Church from the very beginning of the congregation, and although we were certainly aware of each other, we were not really acquainted and I can't recall that we ever spoke. Laura remembers that I usually arrived late for church service and after the closing hymn left with hardly a word. All that changed in October 1982 when I took on the job as church treasurer which included responsibility for the staff payroll. Laura, as director of the preschool, was paid twice a month at a fixed salary, but her assistant, Anita Reed, was paid weekly at an hourly rate, and the number of hours varied week to week, so there was usually a review with Laura of Anita's time sheets plus other preschool bills (the preschool had a separate budget). At the time, Laura was living a few blocks down the street, a first-floor apartment at 12th and Race, across from Washington Park which she shared with Marietta Barman, a former nun, in her 40s, originally from Sun Prairie, Wisconsin (artist Georgie O'Keefe was born in Sun Prairie). Laura was often at the church office in the evenings either because of programs at the church or prep work for the preschool and one cold night, probably in early February, I offered to drive her home which she accepted. Somehow this evolved into a dinner date, probably for the following Sunday, which happened to be the 1983 Sampler Weekend of the "Fine Arts Fund" (The "Fine Arts Fund," now known as "Artswave", is an organization which raises millions of dollars each year to support the Symphony, Chamber Orchestra, Ballet, various museums and other fine arts groups). The fund drive has many art-related activities at several locations and at some point, we found ourselves at the Contemporary Arts Center, which then was in the Formica Building on 5th Street. This, I think, was our very first actual "date." Over time we discovered that we shared common interests in music and art. After I came back from Rapid City in March 1983 (Mother's final illness, death, and funeral), we began to see each other more often, attending concerts at CCM and Music Hall and visiting art museums. Regularly, on Sunday afternoons at 53 Forest, I would be immersed in Prince of Peace financial work while Laura was busy at the piano. In addition to being director of the pre-school, Laura was taking piano lessons and doing work at Xavier University for professional certification (she had finished the Masters Degree program). June 10, at 1204 Race Street, Laura gave a piano recital for a few friends where she played several pieces, but one has stayed with me called "The Girl with Flaxen Hair" by Debussy. In late summer Laura persuaded me to drive up to Michigan with her to visit the old home place (and to meet her family) along a road taken, over the years and of this writing, probably a hundred times, going north the full length of western Ohio on Interstate I-75 to Toledo, then up to Ann Arbor, exiting at Geddess Road, over to South Lyon, through picture-perfect Milford and finally on graveled back roads to the "farm" on Cedar Island Road (300 miles from Cincinnati). I was put in a small bedroom on the second floor of the old Michigan farmhouse and Laura was in an adjacent bedroom, her room since childhood. The screened back porch, which looked out to a large garden and fields to the north, was the summer dining room. There was no better place, on a summer's twilight, than this porch, quiet except for distant sounds and for me, memories of other screened porches, summers in Sioux City, Charter Oak, Alta. I met Laura's parents, her brother Dave, Sue his wife, and their two young boys, and also the Smiths (Pat and Earl), the Weavers (Jess and Hilda), and probably several others. Laura and I walked down the road to the public park at Teeple Lake, her childhood swimming beach. One evening we went with Dave and Sue to an outdoor concert and we walked through the fields to the woods on the north end of the property. I'm sure there was some uncertainty about me as I was, after all, quite a bit older than Laura (and drove a German car). Earl Smith, however, pronounced me as a "keeper," so I seemed to have passed muster. For her birthday that year I gave Laura an electric typewriter as she had to submit much material to Xavier for her certification (typewriters, even electric ones, were to become obsolete in a few years). That fall (I don't remember the date) Laura and I became engaged. On Sunday, November 20, 1983, at the end of the service, I sent the following note up to Pastor Hullinger: "The treasurer of the church wishes to announce his engagement to a young female rabbit. The wedding, of course, will take place during the rabbit mating season, which is in late spring or early summer." Pastor Hullinger read the note to the congregation and pandemonium ensued. Prelude Engagement is certainly a major "rite of passage," but the main event was months away, and there was much work coming into the office so it seemed that there would be plenty of time to get things in order. Any thought of a time of peace and quiet, however, was soon dispelled. First, an engagement ring had to be selected, then a trip to Michigan for the official "family" announcement. It was Thanksgiving so after dinner Dave gave a toast and made a brief speech (Laura's parents left for Florida immediately after Thanksgiving). Conrad finished his Master's Degree work at Miami University in December and moved back to the Forest Avenue house. For Christmas, Laura came to 53 Forest and we had a Christmas dinner with Conrad, Caroline, Laura and me (Rosalind would have no part of it), our last Christmas (1983) in Wyoming as Caroline and Rosalind left for California in January. The second floor at Forest Avenue was in shambles, so I did major cleaning and repainting, and had a plumber come in for repairs in the second floor bathroom. The wedding, we decided, would be at Prince of Peace Church, but that it would not be a suitable place for the reception and as the wedding would be in June, an outdoor site seemed logical. I remember that many years before, Marie, the kids and I would go to a large, very scenic city park on the north edge of the city, French Park and after a quick visit Laura and I decided that this would be ideal for the reception but we had to reserve the French Park pavilion immediately. Next on the agenda, we had to form the wedding party. My brother Ken agreed to be best man, Ken's wife, Kathy, Laura's sister-in-law, Sue, and Laura's cousin Karen would be the bridesmaids. Another trip to Michigan in February and then in March, we drove up to Cleveland for a visit with Karen and John Murdock, and their 3 children, William, Michelle and Michael (Michael, then about 3 years old, was quite disappointed that Laura was not actually a rabbit), and one evening, John, William (then a very talkative 9-year-old) and I went to an NHL hockey game. House hunting: Laura said that living in Wyoming was out of the question (Wyoming was a long way from Over-the-Rhine, both in distance and in character), so in late winter/early spring we began our search - every weekend - first in Over-the-Rhine (everything habitable was out of our price range, even in 1984), then in Mount Auburn, Clifton Heights, Fairview and Clifton (Clifton was as far out as Laura would consider- we visited a house at 346 Terrace Avenue which we liked but the realtor was asking a price that was much out of our price range). More wedding preparations. This included a printer for invitations, bridal registries (Pogues, which no longer exists in Cincinnati, and Hudsons which also no longer exists in Detroit), finding a caterer for the park reception (Laura's parents agree to pay for the food of this event but everything else was on ours) and a bakery for the wedding cake. I called Schoenling Brewery (now Sam Adams) to reserve beer for the reception where the guy said "Reserve? This is a brewery. You want 10 barrels, 20 barrels, 50 barrels?" so I said that enough beer for 50 or 60 drinkers on a warm summer afternoon would be sufficient and he suggested 4 quarter kegs, untapped kegs could be returned. I selected "Christian Moerlein," their premium brew. Then there were "bridal showers" including one given by Laura's friends in Over-the-Rhine, and two on one weekend in Michigan (one by friends and neighbors, the other by the family where I met dozens of new people, the names of some I've long since forgotten). I think all this happened in May (in early June friends from my office had a lunch time "shower" for Laura and me). On one of our house hunting drives, in what had to be a moment of absolute serendipity, we went past 346 Terrace and noticed that the realtor's sign had been replaced by a for sale by owner sign so we looked at the place again and saw that the asking price had been substantially reduced. I called Bill Burger (the owner) that evening and we negotiated over the phone and the agreed upon price was $73,000 (something we thought we could afford). With this commitment, I immediately had to start the process of selling 53 Forest Avenue so in May I hired "Homeowner Consultants", a low cost realtor (I had to do the advertising and selling, they did the legal work) and set about getting the place ready to sell. I repainted the exterior (fortunately the lower floor of the house is brick), cleaned up the yard, and did some cleaning and repainting on the interior. Honeymoon: We decided that we had neither the time her money for an extensive trip so we made reservations for a few days in a cabin at Cumberland Falls State Park in southern Kentucky and because we had to be in Cincinnati the day after the wedding, we also made wedding night reservations at the downtown Netherland Plaza Hotel. The bridesmaids coordinated their wedding attire with the same dress pattern (sewn by these ladies) but in different colors. I invited cousin Lorenz Froehlich and his wife Mary to the wedding and he would be my the only relative, other than Ken and sadly other than my parents, I had kept only a minimal connection with most of my family (Marie would become very upset at the mere mention of my family). Music and more: although by 1984, Prince of Peace was no longer using the upstairs (the main church sanctuary) because of heating costs, the pipe organ was still functioning but Laura found that the wife of her piano teacher (Sonya Chwastek) had some experience in playing an organ, and she recruited Lin Grieser and her harp for preservice music, some young fellows from the congregation for a brass fanfare, and a small choir from the congregation. Jack Towe got a group of Lutheran students from the University to paint the lower walls of the sanctuary, which had become quite shabby. Laura used her amazing organizational skills to keep this venture on track as she sent out invitations, organized the children from her school for a "children's procession", recruited the ushers, put together the order of the wedding service, coordinated with the 3 pastors (Hullinger, Hempel and Grieser), and wrote a Prince of Peace history for the wedding service bulletin (the cover of the bulletin was designed by Kathleen Henson, a very talented but unfulfilled artist), and except for the beer and food for the French Park picnic (my responsibility) she did nearly everything else (I did pass out invitations at the office and the Art Club). Fortunately, Ken and Kathy came the day before so we were able to do some final cleanup in the sanctuary and hang banners over some of the deteriorated areas high on the front wall (the old place looked better than it had in years). For an evening dinner before the wedding I reserved a room at David's Buffet (which no longer exists), a restaurant on the north edge of the city (many of the Michigan folks were at motels in this area). Laura's parents, the wedding party (including the kids), Conrad, Lorenz and Mary, Laura and I were all at this feast during which Lorenz regaled us with Froehlich/Runge family stories and Mary astonished Laura's parents with her Green Bay factory vocabulary. All was ready for the big day which would be nothing like the quiet affair in Minneapolis on a cold winter afternoon many years before. Hochzeit Saturday, June 9, 1984, dawn of a beautiful late spring day where Ken, Conrad, Dave Goodell, John Murdock and I were at the French Park pavilion, putting up decorations and setting out tables. Wayne Wheeler from my office, had a small pickup truck so he and I went down to Schoenling Brewery in the West End to pick up the beer kegs, also ice and an assortment of soft drinks (not everyone was a beer drinker). I had purchased several large plastic garbage containers to keep the beverages iced and the mail boy from office was hired to watch over the place during the wedding ceremony. Laura, meanwhile, was getting things organized at the church. As the zero hour (three o'clock) approached, Conrad, Ken, Kathy and I, properly attired for the occasion, drove down to Over-the-Rhine from Wyoming. Laura was all nerves, concerned that somehow I wouldn't appear. Laura's mother and Marietta helped her into her wedding regalia (a simple long white dress which she had purchased sometime earlier for a wedding that had not come about). Ken and I waited in a small office behind the chancel while the guests filled in while Conrad, as chief usher, escorted the family members to their designated seats. There was a large contingent of Laura's family from Michigan but my family was limited to Lorenz and Mary, and the Moellering sisters. The Prince of Peace congregation were in full attendance as an event like this couldn't be missed. A number of Laura's friends and colleagues, plus classmates from Xavier and Western Michigan came, I'm sure, to see if this strong-willed, independent young woman was really getting married. Parents of the pre-school kids were there, friends of the family from Michigan, a large group from my office (some quite nervous about venturing into Over-the-Rhine) and a few from the "Pavilion gang" so all in all, enough to fill the center nave of the huge old church. Incredibly, the whole operation came together as planned (except for 2-year-old Danny Goodell who had to run up to the altar, during the ceremony, to be with his mother), with Pastor Robert Hullinger making the final pronouncement. After receiving line and photo duties, it was off to the park, the best part of this event. The weather was perfect (unusual for Cincinnati in June), with plenty of green space for games (kids and adults alike) so a good time was had by all. In addition to most folks who came up from the church, a group from the Art Club and some Wyoming neighbors made it to the park, so the caterer had to scrape bottom (no leftovers) and the wedding cake (it was magnificent) also had to be stretched. There was plenty of beer, however, and as dusk set in, with the last guests leaving, and the caterer doing final cleaning, Bill Hutz and I drank the last dregs of beer from a tapped keg (good beer is not to be wasted) and loaded the remaining untapped keg into my car (which I dropped off, fully iced, at 53 Forest). At the picnic, Kathleen Henson, Margaret Towe and Rhoda Schuler somehow coaxed Conrad into revealing that we would be spending our wedding night at the Netherland Plaza so the 3 conspirators then sent a bottle of champagne to the hotel addressed to "The Froehlichs" but unbeknowest to them, Cousin Lorenz Froehlich and Mary were also staying at the Netherland. When the champagne was delivered to the Lorenz Froehlich room, Lorenz, already in bed, bellowed "I didn't order no champagne!". Mary, however, figured it out and had the bottle sent to our room with a note so I called them in the morning and we arranged to meet for breakfast. Thus, ended a very long and exhausting wedding day. Wedding Photo, 1984 Off and Running Sunday morning, June 10, 1984: After an ample breakfast with Lorenz and Mary in the magnificent and newly restored Palm Court of the Netherland we were off to Prince of Peace where Jeff Brandt was being confirmed and as Laura was his godmother, she wanted to be there. Then it was off to a graduation party for Cindy Hutz (with a stop first at 53 Forest to pick up the keg of wedding beer, properly iced) so it was late afternoon when we finally left for our "honeymoon" destination of Cumberland Falls State Park. We had rented a cabin and took our meals at the park lodge and one night, under a full moon, we hiked down to the falls to see a "moon bow". It was a restful week after the turmoil of the wedding, but too soon it was back into the fray as we had to take care of the paperwork/financial process for the purchase of 346 Terrace. Thursday, June 21, 1984, at the offices of Cheviot Building & Loan, Laura and I signed the papers for the closing on 346 Terrace Avenue. The selling price was $73,000 and the sellers were William and Sandra Berger. Laura and I took on a mortgage of $55,000. The Bergers had purchased a larger house in Clifton, so were anxious to sell and they, together with a daughter (about 15), a son (about 10 or 12) and Sandra's mother, had already moved to their new place (they wanted a larger house, and Sandra, especially, wanted to get away from the apartment building next door, which they owned). Bill Berger worked for an agency, funded by United Way, whose mission was to enforce the Fair Housing Law and in particular they would go after realtors/apartment owners who would not sell/rent to mixed race couples. Sandra was from Brazil. A few years later, we heard, the Bergers had divorced. The house: 346 Terrace Avenue is a typical Cincinnati "four-square" (opposite hand and slightly smaller than 2449 Fairview), built in 1910, solid brick exterior walls, slate roof, stone foundation, on a small city lot (the lot is too narrow for a driveway), with the main floor elevated about 7 feet above the street. The main floor is divided into a hallway and living room at the front, and a dining room and kitchen at the rear. The main stairway leads up from the front hall with a secondary stair going up from a center hall (a source of endless delight for small children, dogs and cats, who can race up one stair and down the other) and the pantry, a small room between the kitchen and dining room, which had been converted into a bathroom and the door to the kitchen closed by a previous owner. The large dining room has a bay window and there are large openings with sliding doors between the living room/dining room and between the living room/front hall. There is a coat closet off the center hall, a fireplace (gas) in the living room and hardwood floors throughout (except the kitchen), but what really attracted us to the place are the beautiful leaded German beveled glass panels at the front door, sidelights and transom, and a large handsome stained glass window at the stair landing (there is a also a stained glass transom above the main living room window). There is a large front porch (railings but not screened) and a smaller back porch. The second floor has a large bedroom (with fireplace) and a small bedroom at the front, a large bedroom (with bay window extended from dining room below) and a small toilet room/large bathroom (separate rooms with mosaic tile floors) at the rear and there is a large walk-in closet off the center hall and each bedroom has a closet. The third floor has a center hall and bedrooms at the front and rear (the rooms are fully carpeted but the rear bedroom is unheated), at the very top there is a small attic, and there is an access hatch to the roof in the rear bedroom. Access to the basement is by stair from the kitchen. The front basement space has a gas forced-air furnace (the original coal furnace replaced long ago) and the rear basement space has a toilet stall, a laundry area and a stair leading to the backyard and also a small separate room below the main floor pantry. This is a very large house. The neighborhood: Terrace Avenue is a quiet residential street, 2 blocks south of Ludlow, the Clifton business district, and 2 blocks north of Good Samaritan, a very large hospital. 346 Terrace is a little more than a block west of Clifton Avenue, the main north/south artery and a city bus route, and Burnett Woods, a large city park and the University of Cincinnati is about half mile south on Clifton Avenue. The Berger apartment building is on the east side, 2 stories of brick and a top floor of wood, fronting on Ormand Avenue, probably built about 1920 and on the west side (250 Terrace) there is another Cincinnati "four square," somewhat smaller than 346, and in 1984 owned by Arthur and Bernice Abrams (Bernice is originally from Duluth, Minnesota), who had lived there 25 years where an adult son, "Butchy", was still at home, but an adult daughter, Mary Ann, had moved out. Mr. Abrams was not well (throat cancer I believe) and died the next year. Directly across the street there are 3 Cincinnati "four square" houses, identical in floor plan, but differentiated by exterior trim, again somewhat smaller than 346, and in 1984 the center house (351 Terrace) was occupied by the Luis sisters, Ruth and El, never married, who had lived there 40 years and the east house was converted into a duplex shortly after we arrived (this practice is no longer allowed in Clifton). All the surrounding houses are of about the same age as 346. Moving day: Until we actually took possession of 346 Terrace, we lived at 53 Forest and on Wednesday evening, June 27, with a promise of beer and pizza, I recruited several able-bodied fellows from my office (I specifically remember Bill Wilson as one of those stalwarts) and others from Prince of Peace, and rented a U-Haul truck and we moved Laura from 1204 Race Street to 346 Terrace (everything except for a few items Laura had previously given away), leaving poor Marietta with only a bed and a few chairs (she soon moved to another place). As the night was still young, we decided to drive the truck up to Wyoming and pick up the piano (Laura's old piano stayed in Over-the Rhine), the dining room lowboy and a few other large and heavy items from the basement and garage (couldn't strip the place bare as Conrad was still living there and I didn't want to sell an empty house). In July, I discovered a roach in the house (a resident or hitchhiker from Over-the-Rhine we didn't know), so taking no chances we decided to have the place fumigated. Laura spent the day in my office and we had another night at 53 Forest. Goodbye Wyoming: In July, I found a buyer for 53 Forest but in order for the loan to be approved the AC unit had to be checked and minor repairs done to the driveway and sidewalk. I rented a U-Haul truck on October 30, and Conrad and I moved all the remaining furniture, carpets, mattresses, etc. to 346 Terrace (all of Conrad's things had to be hauled up to the back bedroom on the third floor). The closing was on November 1, 1984, purchased by Justin and Suzanne Hird, for a price of $69,000. I left 53 Forest Avenue with no regrets and few fond memories. October Surprise Early in October, 1984, I got a long-distance call from Bill (William E.) Schilke, my first cousin, oldest son of Uncle Helmut and Aunt Esther (Runge), by then both deceased. Bill and his wife Dagmar lived in Brownsburg, Indiana, just west of Indianapolis, and only about a 2-1/2 hour drive from Cincinnati (the youngest of their 4 children, Joann, was still living at home). I hadn't seen Bill since our family trip to California in 1948. Bill said that he had a call from our cousin, Paula (Runge) Hassler saying that she, together with Martina (Lewis) and Dick (Richard) were having a surprise 90th birthday party in Denison for their father, Uncle Martin Runge, the weekend of October 13-15. They were inviting all the cousins and I said we would be there. Cincinnati, Ohio to Denison, Iowa, is about a 12-hour drive, not a great distance, I thought, but to Laura it seemed interminable. Friday night, as we were checking in at our Denison motel, we saw 3 people in "Fast Freddy" motorcycle jackets unloading beer from their car trunk (a rough looking bunch Laura thought) but I was delighted to see that it was my cousins Clem Runge and Eleanor from St. Louis, and Eleanor's husband, Norm Holle. We went over to Uncle Martin's house for a pre-party get together and although I had seen Uncle Martin when Mother and I made our Iowa visit in 1981, I hadn't seen Paula, Martina or Dick, or Dick's wife, Brownie (Miriam), since a Denison family reunion in 1960, or Clem and Eleanor probably not since the 1940s in Sioux City. I had never met Bill Schilke's wife Dagmar, or Norm Holle. I had been in another country. The big party was on Saturday - in addition to all the "cousins," Uncle Martin's cousins (from the Dickie side), Julia Fiene, Agnes and Hans Schau, and Ted and Irene Rothe were there, as well as several folks from Aunt Ella's family and friends from Denison. Dagmar was astonished that everyone called Bill "Bill" (this is his name); she had known him only as "Wes"; Bill went into great length, explaining how, when in army, since his initials are W.E.S., it somehow became more convenient for him to be known as "Wes." It was overwhelming to be among a family that I thought I would never see again. Laura and I also drove out (only a few miles distant) to the root of the Iowa Runges, St. Paul's Lutheran Church, Hanover Township, the beautiful white country church where it all began; we also visited Irma Fiene in nearby Charter Oak. End of a Memorable Year 1984 was a year of remarkable change (nothing like "Nineteen Eighty-Four" envisioned by George Orwell) with a marriage, a different abode and a new outlook on the world. In August, after we had more or less moved into 346 Terrace (and taken down the old dark curtains from the downstairs windows), we had an "open house" party with mostly people from Prince of Peace and Laura's friend from Over-the-Rhine. I had to make one of my work-related trips out of town but Laura was terrified of being alone in the big old house, so we got Jeff Brandt (then 14 years old) to stay over for nighttime "protection". Conrad had a girlfriend whose name was Jan, a quiet pretty girl (the relationship probably more serious on her part) and one afternoon she and Conrad came over with her parents to meet Laura and me but apparently nothing ever came of it. Thanksgiving we made the traditional drive to Michigan and Laura's parents would soon be on their way to Florida. In early December, Jim and Judy Sandercock came to town again (Mason) for some high school football event involving their son so Laura and I had dinner with them one evening (although we've kept in touch through the years, mainly Christmas card letters. That was the last time I saw my old roommate from St. Paul where the days of our youth we thought would go on forever. Jim started an architectural practice in Burlington, Iowa, and to fend off starvation, he also worked for a time for the State of Florida. First Christmas at 346 Terrace: We put up a Christmas tree in the front window (which we've done every year since then) and started a many year Christmas Eve tradition, having a few friends over for hot cider, snacks and fellowship after the service at Prince of Peace. Through it all the relentless demands of church treasurer continued unabated, as did the work of my chosen profession, which was architecture. A CHANGING SCENE 346 Terrace Avenue was only a 5-minute drive from the AMK office and a 10 minute drive from Prince of Peace in Over-the-Rhine, so I would take Laura to her preschool in the morning (Monday through Thursday, no school on Friday) and generally drive home for lunch. By 1985 the NIH project in Bethesda was nearing completion of final drawings and specifications, so a group from NIH came to Cincinnati to sign off on the finished documents allowing them to be released for bidding so I took them for lunch to a restaurant on Ludlow in Clifton and on the way back, drove past 346 Terrace by which they were astonished and amazed (these were senior research scientists at NIH). A house like that, they said, would cost a fortune in D.C., and they wondered aloud about how much I was being paid and how much of a fee they were paying AMK but I tried to correct their understanding of the D.C. and Cincinnati housing markets (the AIDS epidemic was beginning to emerge at this time and victims were raging against the government for failure to address the problem. There were animal rights protestors at the NIH entrance, our scientists told them that they were working on a cure for AIDS, which, I suppose, was indirectly true and the animal rights protestors were seen no more). About this time a new architect Bob Buemer, arrived at AMK. Bob was an experienced architect, partner in a firm which had recently gone under. He sat directly across from me and had the annoying habit of constantly cleaning his pipe, filling it with fresh tobacco, lighting it, and after a short time, banging it on his ashtray, then starting the procedure over again. I didn't realize that pipe smoking involved such an intense effort. Another major project nearing completion at this time was headquarters buildings for the Saudi Arabian Navy, one building serving a Red Sea fleet, and one for the Arabian Gulf fleet (we know this body of water as the "Persian Gulf" as the Saudis had utter disdain for anything Persian (Iranian). Our contract was with the U.S. Corps of Engineers, but the Saudis were the actual clients and as they had little experience in naval warfare, for them it was a major learning experience (they were purchasing ships for their navy from the French, as a number of small, fast patrol boats). The project was also a learning experience for AMK as everything was done in metric (rather than the old "inch, foot, pound" system), and the site and building plans were oriented towards Mecca rather than towards true north and there were, of course, no facilities for women. The backs of the toilet stalls absolutely could not face Mecca (the Saudis were obsessed with toilet room behavior and privacy as the sides and doors of toilet stalls had to be within 2 inches of the floor rather than the 12 inches standard in the US, so the casual behavior of Northern Europeans must have been appalling for the Saudis.) and the office of the headquarter's commander, on the second level, had to be placed so that the entrance to the building would be below his office. The buildings were designed to withstand bomb and missile attacks from the Israelis or Iranians with the command and control centers far underground (special saltwater resistant waterproofing had to be devised) and although similar in layout, each building had a unique exterior design so it was Bill Rabon's crowning achievement. I was not assigned directly to this project but spent many hours in an advisory capacity and Bill Wilson and Jim Pandzik were the project architects and on the final week before the due date, Bill and Jim came in on Monday morning with their toothbrushes and several sets of clean underwear, and worked straight through, with little sleep, until the drawings were ready for printing on the following Saturday (I worked on many "all-nighters" during my architectural career, but never a full week). Starting in 1984, we had a project for a major client, Eli Lilly who were renovating one of their buildings on Kentucky Avenue, Indianapolis, into a clinical testing facility for a new drug. It was a good learning experience as I was project architect, worked with Eli Lilly scientists and production people, although the Eli Lilly facilities engineers were largely fixated on the "Colts," a football team that had just then sneaked out of Baltimore to a new home in Indianapolis. Early in 1985 a new project came into the office, the Institute of Environmental Health (IEH) for the University of Cincinnati Medical School. Hugo Rooman was the project manager, Max Worthington and Jerry Noran worked on the concept design (I didn't get involved, as project architect, until later in the year) and Bill McGowan was the University project manager. Bill had a stooped posture and shuffling gate and in early development meetings he was usually accompanied by the director of laboratory animal facilities, so Jerry Noran, who had a mischievous sense of humor, referred to the pair as "Igor and the monkey man." Computer Aided Design (CAD): We knew it was coming but did not realized how quickly CAD would have a lasting effect on the profession and the old established profession of architectural draftsman, once a fixture in any architectural office, would soon disappear (at AMK the few remaining draftsmen were at retirement age). A double screen CAD machine (crude and cumbersome by today's standards) was installed in the design area and a young architect, Bob Zielasko, on his own initiative and mostly late at night, set up a system for adopting CAD to the production of architectural drawings so the Saudi Navy and IEH projects were the last major working drawing packages to be done using the new long gone pencil/parallel rule/triangle method of production. About a year later, Zielasko left AMK to become director of CAD operations at another firm. Although the architectural group was quite busy at this time, AMK as a whole was in decline, particularly the process design and power plant divisions so in the late summer of 1985 it was decided to abandon the two top floors of the building and the architects were moved to the south end of the second floor. About this same time, Bill Hutz left to work for Frito-Lay in Houston, Texas (probably for much better pay, but it was sad to lose a good friend) and Steve Alberico soon followed Bill (another good man lost). Tom Lindsay joined the firm as a project architect, but in December there came another blow when Bill Wilson left for KZF, a growing firm then located in a northern suburb. Mary Johnson soon followed Bill (Bill Wilson had become a mainstay and "social director" of the architectural group, as well as a close personal friend). Sometime during this period, Bill Rabon quietly and with little fanfare, left AMK but because of his detached and somewhat abrasive manner, he had few friends and there was little dismay at his departure. He moved to Atlanta and was associated with a hotel developer. Starting in 1986 and for much of the next 3 years, I was busy as project architect for IEH where Hugo Rooman continued as the project manager and during the early years, Max Worthington worked on the design development, particularly the exterior configuration. IEH was probably the most contentious and difficult project of my career as it was a very large building squeezed tightly on a limited site, attached to an existing building, immediately east of a VA hospital and looming over Shields Street to the north. There were several meetings and negotiations with the Cincinnati Zoning Commission because of the building height and setback requirements at the street. It was a multistory building, the lower level primarily mechanical/electrical space with a massive diesel powered emergency generator and a truck dock, the second level was primarily the laboratory animal facility (mostly rats and mice), and the top 4 floors primarily research laboratories and offices and the roof was loaded with exhaust fans. Under the original design there was a large open court between the new and existing buildings, but because the scientists were concerned that this space would become a roosting haven for disease carrying pigeons, we had to cover the space with translucent roof panels, creating a 4-story high atrium (and make adjustments to cover the additional cost of this work). Bill McGowan (the University project manager) was a hard taskmaster, fussing over every detail and lighting the atrium was a particular challenge (the pendulum effect of suspended lights had to be overcome). The roof top equipment was concealed by a vertical blade screen designed to allow good air flow and a colored smoke test was made of the exhaust system but McGowan determined (incorrectly I believe) that the screen was interfering with operation of the exhaust fans so the screen was removed (fortunately, we had arranged the fans in an orderly fashion). It was with great relief that the completed project was finally transferred to the University. We had a project, mid-80's, in a Baltimore suburb for a condiment manufacturer, McCormick Foods, who wanted to enlarge and improve the efficiency of their operation. Carl Bieser, director of the Process Research Division, a young industrial engineer (whose name I've forgotten) and I went to Baltimore to observe their operation and write a report (the mustard manufacturing was fascinating) but Carl, who recently had surgery for an internal organ cancer and was taking a drip therapy, was exhausted at the end of the day and went to his room. I wanted to see the newly developed Inner Harbor area so the engineer and I drove into Baltimore, much to my regret, this young engineer who was a member of some sort of Pentecostal church on Taft Road not far from the office, almost immediately, and for the remainder of the evening (and throughout our meal) spoke of his spiritual awakening with religious fervor and his proselytizing and preaching became intense and unrelenting. I tried to interest him in the Inner Harbor development or explain my Lutheran faith, but he would have none of it and even back at the motel I had a problem breaking free. When we were back at the office, Carl asked me about my experience with this engineer for it seems his behavior was becoming a serious disruption and he was fired soon thereafter. Carl Bieser never fully recovered and died a few months later. By 1986 the "Pavilion gang" was fading away as a major player, Bill Hutz, had moved to Texas and Dave Wagner, Tex Zimmel and I had married. Hutz did come back in September to help work the 1986 Oktoberfest beer stand and for his 40th birthday party (Cindy's family lived in Cincinnati) and I was part of all this, but things were not the same. Time had moved on, circumstances had changed and we were not the same carefree group from only a few years before. Friday evenings at the Pavilion had became a thing of the past. Life Anew The temperature in January 21, 1985, was a record low in Cincinnati, minus 21-degree F. My Jetta did not start but Conrad's old Cutlass came to life so we decided to do a jump start and our neighbor Bernice's brother, who visiting from Massachusetts, came out to make certain that the jump cables were properly installed (he too was originally from Duluth, Minnesota). My car started but after running for a short time there was an explosion and a cloud of steam, Bernice's brother came running out, certain that we had incorrectly connected the cables, destroying the battery. The problem, however, was a frozen radiator. Hoses had burst and the radiator was ruined so I had the car towed to the VW garage in Covington where they insisted that they always used a coolant designed for low temperatures (apparently not true). Laura's father had a hip replacement in Michigan, but it was not healing properly; February, in Florida, he was hospitalized so we decided to go to Florida for a surprise visit with Laura's brother, Dave, coming down from Michigan to join us. We had symphony tickets for the evening before leaving but Dave said he would prefer to rest rather than join us at the "sympathy". The doctors in Florida said the Michigan hip replacement was not done properly so they did corrective surgery and cleared the infection. During this time, Laura and I took the opportunity to visit Epcot at Disney World (Orlando is not far from the trailer park in Zephyr Hills) and in our many trips to Florida this would be our only visit to Disney World. In May, Laura's parents, with Laura's Aunt Kate traveling along, stopped by on their return to Michigan. We invited Bill and Dagmar Schilke to Cincinnati for a May Festival performance at Music Hall, the first of many Cincinnati/Indianapolis event exchanges through the years. In June, for the one year anniversary of our wedding (1985), we met at Put-in-Bay with Dave and Sue Goodell, John and Karen Mudock, and all the kids, probably ranging in age from 3 to 11. Put-in-Bay is a small island in Lake Erie, accessible by ferry and site of the Perry Victory memorial, a tall column (in September, 1813, near the island, an American fleet, commanded by Oliver Hazard Perry, defeated a British fleet, "We have met the enemy and they are ours"). There was some sort of sailboat event taking place so the lakefront swarmed with boaters. We toured the island on foot and the ladies then went shopping, with instructions for us men to look after the kids so as Dave, John, and I sat on a veranda drinking beer, we had no idea where the kids were, which seemed to upset the ladies when they returned (the kids were safely collected). On the road: Except for the excursion to Denison for Uncle Martin's birthday, Laura had never been west of Ohio but this was about the change. We left in early July, with the first stop to visit the St. Louis Runge cousins where we stayed with Eleanor and Norm Holle in Dellwood (a suburb north of St. Louis), and Clem lived in nearby Ferguson (for many years in the same house, his wife died in 1981). When Eleanor retired from work she also retired from meal preparation so she, Norm, Clem and several of their friends met every morning (except Sunday) for breakfast at a nearby eatery in Ferguson, a long-standing tradition and Clem spent much of his time at Fast Freddy's, a local pub. The Holle house was a single story with a walkout basement overlooking a terraced backyard (it was their retirement home) and one evening Clem and Carl came over where they reminisced about past good times at the basement bar, pool table and backyard cookouts. We visited the St. Louis Art Museum and the Zoo (for many years Clem had driven the Zoo amusement train and he was miffed that he had to retire at age 70), visited the "Fortress" (the teacher's house at St. Stephen's Lutheran Church) where Uncle Hans Runge and Aunt Lotte had lived for many years, and Concordia Seminary. We also stopped by to see Mark and Rhoda Schuler where Mark was finishing at the Seminary and Rhoda was working at a mission church in Kinloch (another St. Louis suburb). After St. Louis we headed west, with a quick visit to Harry Truman's home in Independence, Missouri, and then turned north to western Iowa where we stopped in Denison, had breakfast with Uncle Martin and his friends at their customary time and place, but when I wanted to pay for our share, Uncle Martin said "not in Denison you don't" (it was the last time I saw him, he died in 1986) and after a quick visit with Irma Fiene in Charter Oak we were on our way to the promised land (Sioux City). I showed Laura where I had lived in Morningside, Stone Avenue, Garretson and finally 4016 4th Avenue; we drove out to Washington Elementary School (even following the back alleys where I had walked) and down to South Ravine Park, where we hiked up to a high bluff, looking west over the Missouri River to the Nebraska plains beyond (a view forever embedded in my memory). Washington School still looked very much as it had in the 1930's, but the way to South Ravine, however, once a dirt road with fields on either side, was now a paved street through a subdivision. We drove out to the West Side, to the old Schilke house, still much the same, except that the high "clay banks" where Bill, Dick, and I had played, were gone, cut down for a housing development and we visited my last relative in Sioux City, Lois Krieger, retired from teaching and living in a small house on the West Side. I wanted show Laura Sioux City's "crowning glory," the Orpheum Theater, a downtown movie palace from the 1920's although the doors were locked (it was a midweek afternoon ) but we could look in and I was stunned seeing that the magnificent arched lobby ceilings were gone, replaced by a low ceiling of cheap acoustic panels, the elegant décor concealed behind flat gypsum panels, as the place had been "modernized" which was a very sad and depressing sight (many years later the Orpheum was restored to its former glory and is now home to the Sioux City Symphony). We had dinner downtown at the Martin Hotel (now gone) and there I saw a copy of the Sioux City Journal with a headline "Orpheum Chandelier Found" saying that when the Orpheum was "modernized," the magnificent center chandelier from the main auditorium was removed and stored in the basement of the old Central High School but after a few years it was discovered that the chandelier had disappeared. A Sioux City resident, vacationing in Florida, saw the chandelier hanging in an upscale restaurant and the restaurant owners said they purchased the chandelier from an East Coast salvage firm, named "The Forty Thieves." After Sioux City, we headed west, with a stop in Mitchell, South Dakota, to see the Corn Palace. Driving across South Dakota can be long and dreary and near the midpoint Interstate 90 crosses the Missouri where shortly thereafter the time zone changes from Central to Mountain and the land changes from prairie farms to semi-desert ranch country. There was an obligatory stop at Wall Drug and at a rest stop a dusty wind put an end to Laura wearing her contact lenses for the remainder of the trip. In Rapid City, we stayed with Ken (my brother) and Kathy, where they had sold the large house on Lodgepole Place and moved to a smaller house (with Mother gone and their kids leaving, they needed to downsize) and we did the usual tourist things, including a visit to Mt. Rushmore. My old classmate Frank Aukerman stopped by who said he was retiring soon and closing his firm which startled me, for although he was about 10 years older than me, I felt I was just reaching my prime (it was the last time I saw Frank). On leaving Rapid City and heading back east we took a detour through the Badlands, a place of stark beauty but aptly named. Minneapolis/St. Paul: except for the airport, I hadn't seen the cities since December 1965 but I remembered 1950s evenings in downtown Minneapolis on Hennepin as a lively scene with many restaurants and bars. Laura and I arrived on a weekday, late afternoon and I hardly recognized the place as there were many new buildings, elevated/enclosed walkways and well planned open spaces, clean and orderly, but quiet and empty. We found a restaurant that was open, with only a few patrons, and I was anxious to leave this strange, unfamiliar and unpeopled place so we drove out to see my old classmate Jerry Mundt and his wife Diane, to the house that Jerry designed, empty now except for Jerry and Diane (their kids were grown and gone), and Jerry took me to his architectural firm, which he and a partner had founded several years before, specializing in outdoor recreational facilities. I wanted to connect with my old architectural firm, Hammel, Green and Abrahamson (now moved to downtown Minneapolis and known as HGA Inc.), to hear the voices of my former colleagues and when a young operator took my call, but she knew none of the names I asked for, except finally there was one who was still with the firm, but he was out of the office that day, which was depressing as that world, that time and place where I had spent so much of my early career had vanished. We went to the University of Minnesota, where I had taken evening art classes, and saw the Delt house on University Avenue, where in the summers of '56 and '57, the "days of wine and roses" had seemed to go on forever but I avoided South/Central Minneapolis (too many memories of a lovely young woman who I took for granted). We did drive out to 1384 Raymond in St. Paul which looked much the same, but again I had thoughts of the summer of 1964 when all seemed well with the world. Wisconsin: I wanted Laura to see the Froehlich/Runge homeland and meet my remaining family there where we stayed with cousin Lorenz Froehlich and Mary at their newly acquired Bonduel house, went out to see the fine brick house at the old Schilke farm (soon to be torn down for a new factory), went down the street to the old cemetery at St. Paul's Lutheran Church where my Uncle John's grave had two headstones - one spelled "Froelich," placed by Aunt Lydia (Lydchen), the other spelled "Froehlich", placed by the Federal Government (he was a veteran of WWI), and we went to the center of Bonduel to visit Lydchen, who was still living in the old Froelich/Runge house. We also drove out to the old Nicolaus farm to visit my Aunt Lydia and Cousin Roland where nothing changed (a place where "time stood still", or so it seemed) - Aunt Lydia said that Cousin Clem from St. Louis still came for visits, always following the same pattern which was into the kitchen to cut a large slice of cheese, then to the piano to play the same piece (always out of tune). On our return, we stopped to visit Bill and Dagmar Schilke in Brownsburg. That spring and summer (1985) I was busy stripping wall paper from the living and dining rooms and the downstairs and second floor hallways (fortunately, there was only one layer of wallpaper, and each room had the signature of the original paperhanger, "Papered by Clifford Hall, April, 1911" and we discovered that the walls had never been painted). We had new gypsum board ceilings installed in the dining and living rooms (the old ceilings were cracked and sagging so I had the gypsum board screwed directly into the wood joists, through the original plaster) and other cracks were patched and sanded smooth which was a dusty mess. After this I scrubbed the woodwork clean and painted all the walls and ceilings and we also had blinds installed in many of the windows (all drapery and curtains removed) so the place was starting to look presentable. We had a Labor Day picnic in our backyard (mostly friends from Prince of Peace) and later in September we were back in Michigan for a major celebration - the 50th wedding anniversary of Laura's parents. Dave rented a large tent for the yard behind their house, tables and chairs were borrowed from Sue's church (Faith Lutheran on M59), and everything had to be neat, orderly and spruced up so I was put to work painting the white picket fence which ran along the road (put up many years ago to keep Laura safely in the yard). There was a large gathering of friends and family, including nearly all the Bowmaster cousins. There is a group photo in which Laura is the only female cousin in the photo (and the only female Bowmaster cousin in actuality). Except for a 1976 birthday party in Rapid City, I probably had no birthday event since leaving Sioux City for college so November 10 was just another day. Laura decided that in 1985 we should throw a party at 346 Terrace and it was a grand affair (30 or more people) including folks from the office and Prince of Peace, Bill and Dagmar Schilke, Conrad and miscellaneous other friends. I was the reluctant guest of honor. We went to Michigan for the traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Dave and Sue's. Dave had put up a new barn (he needed a place to store all the hay he was no cutting from the "back 40") but I regretted the loss of the unobstructed view from the back porch (of the folk's house) to the open fields beyond. At Christmas, we continued the tradition of having a party on Christmas Eve after the service at Prince of Peace, and Laura and I baked a batch of Christmas cookies for the occasion, and we served hot toddies. The Towes had a "Kings Day" party every year after Christmas for which Margaret baked a cake in which she embedded a silver coin, usually a quarter, and the person who got the slice with the coin would have a lucky year but in an act of mischief Chuck Brandt and Joel Hempel somehow inserted a second coin into the cake. Margaret was puzzled, certain that she had added only one coin. Joel said it was probably some sort of miraculous sign. Thus ended our first full year of marriage - a very busy year, but there was much more to come. As Time Goes By The winter of 1986 was another cold one with heavy snow in Michigan, where in February Laura and I went cross-country skiing which was my first experience with this activity. Dave and Sue come down to Cincinnati in March (for them, the deep South) to escape the cold. By this time we were doing regular visit exchanges with Bill and Dagmar Schilke, usually for a music event, and after a Cincinnati Orchestra performance Bill declared that they were "no schlock outfit". Bill had an enormous collection of classical music CDs, which he had meticulously cataloged by composer, type/period and/or orchestra/performer. In Brownsburg, we went to Indianapolis Symphony performances at the Circle Theater (a former movie palace on Monument Circle in the heart of Indianapolis) where we met good friends of the Schilkes, members of the Symphony, Charles (contrabasson) and Rosemary (viola) Rader. At the time Bill was designing tank transmissions for the Army at Allison in Indianapolis (a division of General Motors), Dagmar was working on a degree at U. of Indiana/Purdue U. in Indianapolis (UIPUI), and their 4 children were no longer at home with son David the only one still in the Indianapolis area. These were the glory days at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Over-the-Rhine, with 50-60 at Sunday morning services, 80-90 at Wednesday evening meal/programs, Preschool (Nursery School), ICCPE program, pastoral counseling, Thrift Store (selling donated clothing at a very low price), Food Pantry, and several community outreach programs. Bob Hullinger continued as Pastor, Joel Hempel as Community Pastor and director ICCPE and Laura as director of the Preschool, although Pastor Hullinger left in October for a church in Northern Kentucky (replaced by a Vacancy Pastor, Donald Johnson but his major responsibility was a Northern Kentucky mission so he spent little time at Prince of Peace). Jane Jansak, a member of First Lutheran, south on Race Street (Hugo Rooman's church), did a lot of community work for Prince of Peace and she and her husband Paul Jansak owned a farm in Clermont County which was used for weekend retreats (Paul sang in the May Festival Chorus). Sister Barbara Johnson, a Catholic nun, did counseling (pro bono) for ICCPE although there was some controversy about whether a nun should be taking Lutheran Communion (Joel seems to have resolved this issue). I continued as church treasurer, trying to keep track of the separate finances for all this activity. Joel and Marcia Hempel bought a house on Sycamore Street in Over-the-Rhine, as did our friends Chuck and Chryl Brandt, who bought a house on Broadway (Chuck taught chemistry at Forest Park High School in a northern suburb) and Jack and Margaret Towe, who bought a house on Orchard Street (Jack was founder and director of Sign of the Cross housing, whose mission was to rehab derelict old buildings into livable low-cost housing units). Back at 346 Terrace (1986) I stripped wallpaper and painted the kitchen, and we replaced the deteriorating wood front steps with concrete. In May Laura's parents stopped by on their return trip to Michigan from Florida and at the same time Cousin Lorenz and Mary came through on a trip so they were all here for several days (not sure where we put them as Conrad was still living in the north room of the third floor). Laura's father and Lorenz got along famously, regaling each other with endless stories. I baked 2 rhubarb pies for the occasion. In June Conrad became engaged to Becky (Rebecca Johnson), who was the adopted daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Butler Johnson of Versailles, Indiana. Becky had gone to DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana, and was taking courses at Xavier University in Cincinnati. The Johnsons had adopted another girl who became Becky's "little sister". Mr. Johnson, a large, genial man, was a lawyer in Versaille. Mrs. Johnson a quiet, somewhat frail lady, whereas Becky was active and open, not at all shy. Also in June, we had a visit from Gordon and Audrey Henry (their daughter Laura had a job in Cincinnati). The Henry's were living in Newberry, South Carolina where Gordon had a position at Newberry College and I hadn't seen them since the ill-fated visit of 1969. We reminisced about Sioux City. Laura and I took a weekend trip to Southeast Ohio including Chillocothe and the Serpent Mound, then up to Michigan for the 80th birthday celebration of Laura's Aunt Louise. On visits to the Schilkes that summer we went out to "Connor Prairie", a fascinating replica of an 1840's Indiana settlement, and to a wooded acreage that the Schilkes had acquired many years before. The site was remote, accessible only by a nearly impassable dirt road where they had put in a concrete slab and a roof, but no plumbing or electricity and it was to be their "cabin-in-woods" getaway, but with the children were grown and gone, the unfinished place had lost its appeal. We seemed to have spent a good part of August in Michigan. Each summer Sue's family had a "family camp" at a lake somewhere in Northern Michigan (in the Detroit area, when people had a vacation they went "up north" and rarely traveled out of Michigan) so we joined the group, sleeping in a camping trailer, where one evening Dave made a concoction of peach liqueur and orange juice called a "fuzzy navel," on which Laura overdosed. Another weekend we visited Philip Otten and his wife, Joyce, in Battle Creek. Phillip was a close childhood friend, we hadn't seen each other since Sioux City in 1948 (his father, Pastor Henry Otten had taken a call to a congregation in Minnesota). Philip was pastor of a Lutheran Church in Battle Creek, their children grown and gone (a son had been killed in an auto accident). We also went to the Mellon Festival in Howell, Michigan, (there really are "Howell Mellons") a delightful small city where Sue's mother worked in a downtown shop. In late summer I had 4 tickets to the final Symphony summer concert at Riverbend Music Center. Riverbend, then still quite new, designed by architect Michael Graves, is the summer home of the Cincinnati Symphony/Cincinnati Pops, located on the Ohio River at Coney Island Park so we invited Jack and Margaret Towe to join us but when we stopped to pick them up, Margaret was in tears as Jack was in the midst of a toilet room renovation at one of his "Sign of the Cross" projects, so we took their young daughter Nancy in Jack's place. During the concert, it was announced that a new conductor, Jesus Lopez-Cabos, had been selected and that there would be a party and a reception after the concert for the Maestro at the Coney Island "Moonlight Gardens" dance pavilion (it was a Sunday night so apparently no scheduled dance). We really were not that interested, but Nancy insisted that we could not pass this opportunity, so we (at the end of a very long line) shook hands with Lopes-Cobos and his wife. Doomsday: Time moved on, there was no turning back. September 14, 1986, was Laura's 40th birthday and we had a cookout/picnic in our backyard nevertheless with many folks from Prince of Peace and other friends including the Schilkes who came from Brownsburg. There was a banner reading 'Lordy, Lordy, Laura's Forty." In addition to the preschool duties, Laura was taking piano lessons at CCM (teacher Marek Chwastek, a young man from Poland - whose wife was the organist at our wedding) and she was giving piano lessons to about 5 or 6 young children. Uncle Martin Runge died August, 1986, and except for Aunt Lydia in Wisconsin, the last of my mother's family so if there were more visits to Denison, it wouldn't be to see Uncle Martin. For Halloween that year I started the tradition of painting a face on a pumpkin which I've done this every year since (some faces very good, others complete duds) Laura started a Halloween pumpkin photo book (a carved jack-o-lantern pumpkin usually deteriorates after a few days whereas a painted pumpkin will last for weeks). We were in Michigan for the traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Dave and Sue's, which that year included a trip to Holly, Michigan, a small town that bursts forth once a year as a major Christmas attraction with all sorts of festivities and holiday shops (Dave's critique of shops in general: "Places where women go to buy things to hang on the walls"). We had our usual after church Christmas Eve party, then a few days later to the Towes for "Kings Day," but the highlight of the season was always the New Year's Eve party given by Joel and Marcia Hempel. A large fun-loving group, couples from Prince of Peace and other friends of the Hempels came streaming in. Joel would concoct an elaborate game involving a series of riddles which led to tiny numbered tabs hidden throughout their house (it must have taken hours to put this game together) and then there were mounds of pork, sauerkraut, desserts and other foods brought in by the partygoers (pickled herring was always on the menu). No evening could be as warm and gemütlich and a great way to end the year. Sadly, this tradition ended when the Hempels left Cincinnati. After a slow start, 1987 became another busy and eventful year. In February we again headed for Florida to visit Laura's parents, but this time in a roundabout way with the first stop was Asheville, North Carolina, where we took in an evening play by a local amateur group (a Noel Coward comedy), next day we toured the "Biltmore" at the Vanderbilt estate (gardens were not yet open), then on to Newberry, South Carolina, where we stayed at the home of Gordon and Audrey Henry, next stop Charleston, South Carolina where the old city is a treasure of 1700s architecture, mostly homes, still occupied, and many churches, all being carefully preserved and protected to prevent modern development, then finally, the drive down to Zephyr Hills in Florida where Laura's folks lived in a cramped trailer. Laura's Aunt Kate lived year-round in an adjacent mobile home park, "Sleepy Hollow". Laura's cousin, Larry Faber (Kate's son) was staying with his mother but had parked his trailer at the folk's park so this is where we spent our nights which though was cluttered, cold and reeked of tobacco smoke, but was free. At this time, Jess and Hilda Weaver, friends of Laura's folks from Michigan, had decided to spend their winters in Florida so we visited them at a trailer park just north of Zephyr Hills. On the return trip, we stopped at Civil War battlefields Chickamauga (northern Georgia) and Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga. Laura barely tolerated these battlefield excursions, but I couldn't pass the opportunity. In March my cousin, Martina Lewis, came to Louisville, Kentucky from California for a conference so Bill and Dagmar Schilke, Laura and I decided to meet her there. We toured the downtown area (much new development on the riverfront) and had dinner with Martina. Prince of Peace had their first weekend retreat in April at St. Anne Convent in Northern Kentucky. Built in 1919, the Convent still housed a few nuns, was well maintained and had a magnificent chapel and although used as a retreat center, it was still a convent, so men and women had to sleep on separate floors. I retreated late into the night working on church books and our income tax (due in a few days). About this time, we went to a wedding reception for the daughter of good friends from the Art Club, Paul and Barb Zentgraf and in April we finally had our hardwood floors sanded and refinished (first floor rooms) which was a mess but well worth it. Laura gave a piano recital at 346 in early May. Bill and Dagmar were there, as well as Chuck and Chyrl Brandt, other friends from Prince of Peace, and Jose and Tammy Quishpe (Jose and Tammy lived in Laura's apartment building on Race Street, and their daughters, Carmen and Amanda, attended Laura's preschool; Tammy was an Over-the-Rhine girl but Jose immigrated from Ecuador (he was very short, probably of full-blooded Andean descent). Jose worked as a machinist, was very intelligent and inquisitive, and was involved in the Hispanic community, even hosting a Spanish language radio news program. Carmen and Amanda looked very "Hispanic" but did not know a bit of Spanish, for as Jose said "in our house we speak only English." In early June (1987), the 17 year cicadas emerged which is unique to central and western Cincinnati (a separate 17 year brood emerges in eastern Cincinnati on a different cycle) and these large ugly insects come out of the ground by the millions, climb the nearest tree or bush, shed their underground skin, and unfold large transparent wings. They are pale green in color with red eyes, have no mouth parts or stingers, are clumsy fliers, and die within a few weeks. The males congregate by the thousands in certain trees, making a loud singing sound to attract females so the sound is deafening and standing under one of these trees is an incredible experience. For birds and cats, it was "manna from heaven" and they soon became engorged, but these flying swarms sent young girls shrieking in terror. About this time, Clara Moellering died rather unexpectedly (cancer) and Gertrude was quite upset as she was in decline and expected that her younger sister would be her caregiver. At the cemetery for Clara's burial service there were still many cicadas flying about but also mounds of the dead insects, like snowdrifts, Laura had enough of the cicada phenomenon so we made an escape to Michigan. Another June Wedding: On Saturday, June 27, 1987, Conrad and Rebecca Johnson were married at a riverfront park in Aurora, Indiana where it was a large wedding, mostly friends of Conrad and Becky. I recruited Erich Zwertschek to play his accordion for the reception. Bill and Dagmar Schilke were there and Caroline came from California but it was the last time I saw my oldest daughter. There was a professional photographer so Laura and I had our photo taken. Conrad and Becky moved to an apartment near Music Hall in Over-the-Rhine so Laura and I were alone in the big old house at 346 Terrace. Dave, Sue, and the boys came down to Cincinnati for the 4th of July where Jamie and Danny played in the riverfront fountain and Dave's assessment of the fireworks, "Not bad for a small city". Next day we went to "The Beach" waterpark where we floated, splashed and were propelled down awater slide (and were sunburned). Another wedding: On July 13, Gordon Henry's daughter, Laura, married John Drury in Cincinnati and Laura and I were at the reception. Several guests from Pella, Iowa, were there (Audrey's family) so we reminisced about the vanishing Dutch culture in that part of Iowa. On July 15, Glenn Lucas was installed as the Associate Pastor of Prince-of-Peace Lutheran Church. Glenn, a recent graduate of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, was originally from Chicago, his father was black, his mother white (the white members of the church considered him African-American, the black members considered him bi-racial). Pastor Lucas was married to a white woman, Donna, and they had an adopted son and soon had a son of their own. Pastor Lucas was young and inexperienced, but a quick learner and in a short time made a favorable impression. End of July I had an interesting medical experience which began with several yellow jacket stings, June in Michigan and several more stings early July in Cincinnati. Yellow jackets are fierce little insects, somewhat resembling bees (often mistakenly called "sweat bees" in the Appalachian dialect) but actually are a type of hornet. My immune system seems to have developed a defense against yellow jacket stings, so when taking out garbage one evening in late July, I was stung several times, felt a tingling sensation in my hands and feet, tottered back into the house and nearly fainted away. Laura called 911 and they instructed her to immediately remove the stingers (yellow jackets can sting repeatedly, but unlike bees, leave no stingers) and the emergency vehicle arrived shortly (I was semiconscious, but remember one of the men saying "Hey, this guy has got no pulse") and I was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed to Good Samaritan Hospital, only a short distance from 346. My body was soon covered with a rash, except where I had been stung and here the skin was perfectly clear so my immune system had done its job, but it had nearly killed me. I was given a shot of some sort, kept overnight at the hospital and discharged the next day with no ill effect and after a series of tests it was determined that I had developed a severe reaction to stings from yellow jackets and white faced hornets; I was given an injector which I was to carry at all times (soon misplaced and lost) and for several years had to go to a clinic every six weeks for a shot. In early August (1981) Laura's parents and their friends Pat and Earl Smith came down to Cincinnati for a few days so we took a riverboat cruise down the Ohio to Rising Sun, Indiana, a very old sleepy rivertown which is also the county seat of Ohio County, the smallest (and then the poorest country in Indiana. At this point the Ohio River runs north/south so the town faces east across the river, hence the name. The boat docked at a riverfront park and we explored the town, a quiet place of small wood houses and a nearly deserted downtown (all of this changed years later with the arrival of a gambling casino, the "Grand Victoria"). The county courthouse consisted of a single courtroom on an upper level (approached by broad stops, no handicap access here) with the county offices on a lower level, below the courtroom, and there was a small jail behind the courthouse. Later in the day the boat crossed to Rabbit Hash, Kentucky, which then, a probably still now, consisted of a general store (the general store was destroyed by fire in 2016 and totally rebuilt) and a few houses (Earl always remembered Rabbit Hash because the mayor was a dog but the mayor was not allowed into the general store because it sold groceries). It was a very hot day but Laura's father, Earl and I enjoyed the river breeze and view from the open top deck but the ladies preferred the air conditioned enclosed lower deck. That evening Earl and I went to a band concert in Burnett Woods, a short walk from 346. In mid-August, we decided to take a vacation trip to Wisconsin and Michigan. The first stop was Madison where I wanted to see my Iowa State classmates, Frank McNutt and Rollin Williamson ("Willie") who I hadn't seen since my drive to Cincinnati in December, 1965. Willie moved to Madison immediately on graduation, and as it was often his sojourn from St. Paul, Frank returned to Madison (his hometown) where they both were with the architectural firm Flad Associates and where Frank bought and renovated an old farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. I called ahead to reserve a motel room in Madison, but everything was booked (some sort of convention taking place) but Frank graciously invited us to stay at the "farm", where Frank's nephew was also living at the time. That evening we had a small dinner party (Frank did the cooking) and he invited Willie and Lillian (Willie's wife), but Willie was semi-retired (which surprised me) and he was off fishing somewhere. Lillian was there and we talked about old times at Iowa State (Lillian was a heavy smoker and died a few years later). The next morning Frank guided us to Frank Lloyd Wright's Unitarian Church (1947) in Madison. More Wisconsin: Next stop was Sun Prairie, where we visited Marietta's mother at the Barman farm (Sun Prairie is also the birthplace of Georgia O'Keefe, one of Laura's favorite artists), then it was up to the Wisconsin Dells and an excursion boat tour and after this we headed north to Frohlich/Runge heartland, Bonduel, where we stayed with Cousin Lorenz Froelich and Mary. One afternoon we visited Aunt Lydchen, sitting on the front porch of the familiar Froelich/Runge house, listening to Lydchen's many tales and her daughter (my cousin Lois) was there. I remembered Lois as a beautiful young woman, but she had suffered a brain tumor and several other medical problems so now she was a severely disabled old woman, incoherent, and seemed hardly aware of life around her. We went out to the Nicolaus farm to see Aunt Lydia and Cousin Roland but Lydia was nearly blind and the place was becoming shabby. Roland still had his cows, and for something that I always admired, he rescheduled the cows so that rather than being milked early in the morning and again in late afternoon, milking was done at noon and in the late evening as Roland was not an early riser and he liked listening to late night talk radio in the barn. That was my last visit to the Nicolaus farm. Lorenz had retired from his auto /school bus reupholstery business and was focused on drawing and painting although he had no formal art training (a true "primitive" artist), doing pen-and-ink drawings and then finishing the with watercolor paint. He remembered and drew with accuracy and detail the cars of the 1930's period (many of these models no longer exist such as Nash, Hudson, Packard, LaSalle, etc.) and he showed me a drawing he did of a Jewish funeral in St. Louis, again in great detail, from memory when he visited his Runge cousins in St. Louis many years ago. He signed his drawings "Fiedelbaum," saying that he didn't want his real name appearing on this crude work. He gave me one of his drawings (a railroad station, gas station, and several cars, in a small 1930's town, probably none of which still exist) and we had the drawing matted and framed. Soon thereafter a friend persuaded Lorenz to enter one of his drawings in a show and he won first prize, which was to show his work in a Green Bay gallery. Lorenz became a recognized primitive artist. Mary continued with her supervisory job at a Green Bay paper products plant. Leaving Bonduel, we drove north and east, over the top of Lake Michigan to St. Ignace, at the tip of Michigan's Upper Peninsula and from there we took a ferry to Mackinac Island (no cars allowed on that island) where we spent the day walking the island and visiting the usual tourist sites (included Fort Mackinac where America suffered an embarrassing defeat in the War of 1812) and where there was a military re-enactment by soldiers wearing early 19th century uniforms). We then drove south to the old home place on Cedar Island Road where in the evenings after dinner Laura and I washed the dishes, Laura's Dad watched a Tiger's game on TV, and nothing could be finer than sitting on the back porch at dusk watching the summer night set in. Back in Cincinnati Laura resumed teaching piano to young students but her own piano teacher joined the Air Force (probably a sure path to citizenship) saying "I do not drop bombs, I play in Air Force orchestra", so Laura had to find another teacher. Carl Payne was recommended, and he became Laura's longtime teacher. Carl's childhood home was just up the street on Terrace, and he gave lessons at his mother's house a few blocks west on Howell. In October Laura gave a piano recital here at 346. We also went up to Michigan again for the 80th birthday of Laura's father. During the summer and fall we had several back-and-forth visits with Bill and Dagmar Schilke, including concerts at Riverbend Music Center. Every Thursday evening, I continued going to the Art Club sketch group and that August, John Crane (then in charge of the sketch group) called, saying that the scheduled portrait model for that evening had cancelled so could Laura be a substitute? Laura dutifully posed, wearing a large straw hat, and she discovered that sitting as an artist model is no easy task. The painting I started did not merit further work, but Floyd Berg did a masterful pastel portrait, which he signed and gave to us (Floyd, then in his late 70's, was a professional artist, specializing in pastel portraits). We had the portrait framed and it hung for many years in the northwest corner of the living room (Laura finally took it down, saying "I don't look like that anymore"). There was another painted pumpkin for Halloween and the customary trip to Michigan for Thanksgiving. I believe that this was the year that I started the fruitcake baking tradition, usually about a month before Christmas (a memory here of Irma Fiene, Agnes Schau and Aunt Edna who for many years would get together in Charter Oak before Christmas for a day of baking stollen). I always enjoyed fruitcake, in spite of the many fruitcake jokes and the terrible (generally) quality of store-bought fruitcake, so I started baking my own and the recipe I use has generous amount of amaretto liqueur. Marietta Barman came for a visit in late November. She had moved to Milwaukee, and although Laura kept in touch by letters/Christmas cards, we never saw her again (Marietta died in 2009). Prince of Peace had another retreat at St. Anne Covent and one morning after a light snow had fallen, I walked alone up a hill to the Convent cemetery where the nuns were buried together (stone markers with no names) in an ever-growing series of circles around a common center, truly a "Friedhof". I had a deadline for a cost estimating project at the office, so I worked one night through, spreading my work out on tables in the dining room and I was still there when the nuns came down to start breakfast (they thought I was an early riser). The start of another tradition: Rich and Joyce Mellot decided to have a yearly Christmas brunch at their home on St. James (Sunday noon in mid-December) and many of the Paviliion "gang" would be there (even Bill Hutz and Cindy came up from Texas a few times). There were familiar faces and voices, but we had gone our separate ways and this was usually the only time we would see each other. The year (1987) ended with our pleasant and quiet get together on Christmas Eve after church, and the equally pleasant, but boisterous New Year's Eve party at the Hempels. Out West: In our part of the Midwest, when we think of travel, vacations or relocation it is usually to New York, Chicago or Florida (or for Michigan, "Up North") but the Far West is another country. Many of our kin, however, had settled in that remote and faraway place so in late February/early March of 1988, Laura and I decided to pay these folks a visit and see that part of the world. We flew out of Indianapolis (much cheaper than the Cincinnati airport) to Phoenix, rented a car and started our visit at the home of my cousin Paula and her husband Don Hassler who at that time were living an apartment complex in Phoenix. Paula was writing for a local publication and Don had an electronics business with a partner near downtown Phoenix (the personal computer industry was starting to take off and Don was quite busy doing consulting/troubleshooting). Paula and Don gave us a tour of downtown Phoenix where there was a large Victorian house from the 1890's, standing alone in a plaza, preserved as a remnant of "Old Phoenix", which seemed rather odd as Cincinnati had hundreds of such houses (although really only a few from the early 1800's), to Arizona State University in Tempe where we saw the Frank Lloyd Wright designed auditorium (built in 1964 after Wright's death), and ending the day at a great Mexican restaurant. Next, we drove out to Mesa where Laura's Aunt Betty and Aunt Laurabelle lived for many years in a mobile home park (these two ladies had traveled the world together, the Americas, Europe and Asia, sending souvenir dolls to their only niece, Laura). Aunt Betty was then bedridden with terminal cancer and had moved to a nursing home where we visited her and she was delighted to see Laura (she died a short time later). That evening we had dinner at the mobile home with Laurabelle and Laura's Aunt Dorothy, who was widowed, moved to Arizona and remarried. Next day Aunt Laurabelle gave us a wild ride over narrow roads into the Superstition Mountains where we saw the old Theodore Roosevelt Dam (the very first Federal Dam project, 1914), cliff dweller ruins (Anasazi) and then down through the desert to the ancient Pueblo ruin "Casa Grande." With our rental car, we then drove north to Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon. It was definitely not high tourist season (cold weather and a light snow), so we were able to get a room at the Grand Canyon Park Lodge (a historic hotel built on the rim of the canyon), and able to move freely throughout the Park with no crowds and little traffic. At this time, the Japanese economy was booming, so there were busloads of Japanese tourists (mostly young businessmen wearing suits) touring the Park and we did see one young Japanese tourist proudly attired in full cowboy regalia, probably purchased at the hotel souvenir shop. In a sign of the times: information signs in the hotel were printed in English, Japanese and German as at this time, the German economy was also booming. The Grand Canyon is spectacular and I walked along the rim one night in the bright moonlight, looking down into the dark where one could see dim campfires many miles below. On the drive back to Phoenix, we stopped for several hours of shopping in Sedona. The most exciting part of this trip (for me) was the finale. Paula and Don had a large RV (they did a lot of traveling in the West), which the four of us took to Yuma (Don did all the driving). My cousin Dick Schilke and his wife Diane lived in Yuma, where they had a small jewelry store/watch repair business. I hadn't seen Dick (my childhood companion from Sioux City days) in more than 40 years so it was intensely exciting, greeting him as he stood outside his shop, with that same Dick Schilke smile and there was more excitement to come. Cousin Martina (Paula's sister) had flown in from California, and Cousin Margaret (Copeland) and her sister Phyllis (Nicholson) would be arriving from Tucson (Margaret, from Texas, was visiting the Nicholsons in Tucson). I hadn't seen Margaret since she and Ben would pick me up at Iowa State for the drive to western Iowa, and I probably hadn't seen Phyillis since the Margaret/Ben wedding in Alta. It was a joyful time with six cousins who hadn't all been together since a 1940's family reunion in Sioux City. Dick and Diane had a home in Yuma on a quiet residential street and a pleasant back yard lush with flowering plants and we spent happy hours talking, reminiscing and looking at old photo albums. It was collectively decided that there should be regular Runge Cousin's reunions, and the first of these reunions should be in Cincinnati in 1989. As Yuma is virtually on the borders of Mexico and California, we spent part of one day in Al Godones, Mexico, and so that Laura could say that she had been to California, we drove to the state line. We went back to Phoenix with Martina as an added passenger, and more opportunity to talk about the old days in Iowa. Next day Laura and I were back from the semi-tropics to the Midwest winter. A recently hired cost estimator at AMK, Ralph Friedman, had come from California and he and his wife were renovating a house and were living temporarily with his wife's parents, but unfortunately the mother-in-law was allergic to cats so Ralph asked if we would "adopt" a cat for a few weeks. She was a young calico, named "Pita" (Ralph said this was an acronym for "pain in the ass"), bright, lively and loved to play "fetch" with plastic rings from milk cartons. We took Pita for visits to Gertrude Moellering at the nursing home (at this time, Gertrude could no longer take care of herself and was essentially bedridden so Laura and I would visit her every Wednesday evening). Ralph was an experienced estimator but a bit naïve in the matter of plants and gardens so when I mentioned that our backyard garden lacked sunlight, he recommended potatoes as they, after all, he reasoned, grew underground. In late 1987 I had designed and made a drawing for the renovation of the stage area at Prince of Peace (at this time, we were using a lower level multi-purpose room for worship and did not need a large stage) in which storerooms were added on either side, creating a narrow altar recess with an arched head emulating the existing window heads. This work was finally done in the spring of 1988. Also at this time, we had installed an alarm system at the doors of the church and parish house and one Saturday I had gone into the parish house office to do some treasurer work, assuming that the alarm system had been disarmed as there were people in the church but after a very short time a police officer appeared, summoned by the alarm system. After I had convinced him that I was the church treasurer and not an intruder, he wanted to see the rest of the place, especially the sanctuary and he was impressed, but as he was leaving he said (speaking of the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood) "This is no place for Lutherans." On one of our many trips to Brownsburg, we met a couple, friends of Bill and Dagmar (I can't remember the name). The lady rescued stray cats, and she convinced us that we needed a cat (by this time Pita had left) so in August the Schilke's arrived with 2 male kittens, complete with litter boxes, kitty litter and cat food. One was totally black - we called him "Spook", his brother was also black but had a small patch of white on his belly, we called him "Spot". They were lively, inquisitive and soon had the run of the house and the backyard. Laura wasn't really sure how to deal with kittens (at home in Michigan cats were not allowed in the house). Early one morning, as she came into the kitchen and saw two little black faces peering down from high on a cabinet, she let out a shriek, thinking they were bats. Another time she called me at work saying the kittens were high in a tree, meowing pitifully, so what should we do? Call the fire department? But then she said "nevermind" as the kittens were at the back door, wanting in. Carol Lakin, a long-time secretary at Prince of Peace, died suddenly in September. Spot died in October, although the kittens had been vaccinated for feline leukemia (an always fatal condition in cats) when they were first rescued from the wild in Brownsburg, it was too late as they may have contracted the disease from their mother. Spook was quite distressed, calling out and looking for his brother. Laura was still teaching piano and also continued taking piano lessons from Carl Payne, who then was teaching from and living at his mother's home in Clifton, on the far west end of Howell Avenue. Carl's mother, Dorothy Stolzenbach Payne, was a noted Cincinnati pianist and teacher, her husband (deceased) had been a member of the Cincinnati Symphony and the couple had been very active in the local and international music community (composer Percy Granger was a close friend). In 1935 Mrs. Payne, together with several of her friends and students, started an organization of professional and amateur pianists, teachers and serious students (all ladies initially) who would meet monthly at member's homes to play and listen to piano music and it was called "The Keyboard Club". In the 1980's this organization was still quite active (Mrs. Payne and several of the founding members were still performing and one longtime member, Jim Graff, and Mrs. Payne occasionally would do a 4-hand piece). The club had grown, meeting monthly, one group on Thursday mornings, another group on Sunday afternoons and as Laura was Carl's student, she was inherently invited into membership in The Keyboard Club. I tagged along, as we would go regularly on Sunday afternoons where Laura played and I listened. We decided it was time for a piano upgrade, so in October (1988) we purchased a mid-size grand, a "Howard" (a Baldwin subsidiary, sound board and keyboard from Korea, piano body made in Arkansas as Baldwin was no longer manufacturing pianos in Cincinnati) so with the new instrument we were now able to host Keyboard meetings at 346. We kept the Baldwin upright, so two piano pieces could be performed. The Prince of Peace retreat venue, St. Anne Convent in Northern Kentucky, received national exposure in 1988 when part of the movie "Rainman" (Dustan Hoffman/Tom Cruise) was filmed there and several other Cincinnati locations were used in the filming, including the University campus. Laura and I were walking through the campus one afternoon when we noticed a lot of activity near the stadium (a scene was being filmed involving the UC marching band and a crowd of football fans) at first we were just curious onlookers but soon we were recruited to be part of the crowd. I don't know that this scene ever made the final cut. Teachers and principals of Ohio Lutheran Schools had their annual convention in Cincinnati this year and for entertainment one evening there was a dinner cruise on the Ohio River (spouses were invited). As we were on the upper deck admiring the city lights, a speedboat raced by and a young woman on the boat flashed us with bare breasts. As the convention convened the following morning, the chairman announced that "There was no way that they had the money to provide that kind of entertainment". Although the "Pavilion Gang" no longer met at the Pavilion on Friday evenings, we did not give up our beloved Oktoberfest beer booth so in September our raucous group still got together for that occasion, including Bill and Cindy Hutz from Texas. That fall (October, 1988) Prince of Peace had raised enough money for a major renovation of the church kitchen and because the work involved plumbing and venting for a new stove, a building permit was required, so I had to make drawings, write specifications and deal with the Cincinnati Building Department. By the fall and winter of 1988 several traditions had become established including pumpkin painting for Halloween, Thanksgiving in Michigan, fruitcake baking in late November, Christmas brunch at the Mellott's, Christmas Eve party at 346 (we had started a new tradition - a major cookie bake in late December, for Christmas Eve and for gift packs to friends and neighbors, and there was always a cookie exchange with Bernice Abrams next door), and finally, the not-to-be-missed New Year's Eve party at the Hempels. The Christmas tree fascinated Spook. He would sit for a long time studying an ornament, then in a sudden acrobatic leap he would reach out and whack down the selected target so by Christmas Eve he had cleared all ornaments from the lower third of the tree. On a Christmas card that year, cousin Lorenz wrote that his artwork was doing well at various shows, but that he was being treated for cancer. A Year to Remember The year 1989 began quietly but soon Laura and I had to think about the Runge Cousin's Reunion in June, and coincidentally, the fifth anniversary of our wedding. On one of their visits to Cincinnati, Bill and Dagmar Schilke helped us find a suitable motel for the "Reunion Headquarters" (346 is a big house, but we couldn't provide sleeping accommodations for the whole group) so we chose a motel on Central Parkway (Day's Inn), not far from our house. Laura decided that the backyard needed a major makeover and somehow she persuaded Chuck Brandt (who had a pickup truck) to haul over a load of creosoted railroad ties, which we used to create new planting beds in the brick patio just north of the house and along the east edge of the yard. The garden area at the north part of the yard (which was mostly in the shade) was covered with a bed of pine bark nuggets creating an outdoor seating area and we bought a set of four chairs and a table, made of a heavy steel mesh (still in use 27 years later, due largely, I sure, to being taken to the basement each fall). I bought several 4-foot by 8-foot wood lattice panels and 4x4 treated wood posts to build a privacy screen along the east side of the yard so we were ready for the reunion. Not unexpectedly, Spook died of the same feline leukemia that had claimed spot a few months earlier. A big change for Laura: After 17 years as director of the Prince of Peace preschool, Laura decided it was time for a change and in March she began working for 4C (Comprehensive Community Child Care) a division of Cincinnati United Way (Community Chest) on Reading Road in South Avondale. The preschool was taken over by Audrey Turner-Berry. The 4C office was not far from AMK which made it very convenient for me to drop off Laura in the morning and pick her up at the end of the day (unless I was out of town, or as often happened, I was delayed in the evenings) but I continued as church treasurer, which kept me very busy. May: A big event in Brownsburg/Indianapolis. Dagmar Schilke graduated from college (UIPUI) so Laura and I were there for the celebration with a graduation ceremony at a downtown arena, Dagmar in cap and gown, their children were all there (Kathy, David, Kaaren and Joann) as well as Dagmar's brother. I'm not sure what her field of study was, or that she ever utilized her degree. June: The weather was perfect and the folks begin arriving for the "Second Runge Cousins Reunion". Bill and Dagmar Schilke from Indiana (their son David dropped in for one afternoon), Dick and Diane Schilke from Yuma, Paula Hassler from Phoenix, Martina Lewis from California, Dick and "Brownie" Runge from Iowa City, Clem and Carl Runge and Eleanor and Norm Holle from St. Louis (this group, driving together, somehow got lost and saw much of eastern Cincinnati), Conrad and Becky, and my brother Ken from Rapid City (Ken came early, stayed with us at 346 so he, Conrad and I took in a pre-reunion Reds game at Riverfront Stadium). When we picked up Dick and Diane at the airport, Diane remarked that "it was interesting that your airport is surrounded by golf courses," which was puzzling until we realized that in Yuma the only large green areas are golf courses, so as the plane was landing she saw all that "green". We had a cookout in the backyard, Bill Schilke gave a wine making demonstration, Clem Runge played (more or less) the new piano, and we did a tour of the City (Carl Runge was fascinated by the old City Workhouse, a huge landmark built in the 1860's (then no longer in use, but sadly torn down a few years later to make way for a new workhouse/jail, which actually was never built). We had schneken one morning for breakfast (a rich German pastry from the Virginia Bakery in Clifton, which no longer exists) and took a riverboat cruise on the Ohio. The main activity, however, was talking, backyard, front porch or wherever we happened to be. In the midst of the reunion festivities, Laura and I had our fifth wedding anniversary celebration. A good time was had by all and it is a wonderful memory. A sad note: After Ken returned to Rapid City, he called to say that he and Kathy had broken-up - not his wish, but Kathy wanted out of the marriage and they were divorced soon after. Later in June I had cataract surgery in my left eye as I had noticed that I was losing visual clarity in that eye. There was much improvement with a new lens implant performed as an outpatient surgery at the Cincinnati Eye Institute (Dr. William Faulkner). Another sad note: In July, Mary called to tell us that my cousin, Lorenz Froelich had died saying that he was wasted away by the cancer that he mentioned in his Christmas letter. Lorenz was buried in the cemetery at the St. Paul Lutheran Church in Bonduel, the Wisconsin town where he was born and lived the whole of his life. August: We had visitors from Michigan - Laura's folks and her Aunt Laurabelle, and Pat and Earl Smith (Earl thought that Laura's father, Ken Goodell, should not be driving, especially long distances, so the Smiths became additional guests and Earl did the driving). We did backyard cookouts, front porch sitting, and a Barleycorn Riverboat dinner cruise. Somehow we got them all housed as by this time we had a sofa bed so that Laura's folks could sleep downstairs (her father could no longer do stairs). September: Another busy month - Art Club evening riverboat/ice cream cruise, birthday party in Michigan for Laura's mother (many family members and friends). Keyboard meeting at Toedtman School of Music with Over-the-Rhine Steel Drum Band (many players from Prince of Peace) providing some of the music (Toedtman, where Carl Payne was a part-time teacher, is housed in a huge old house, built by a Cincinnati beer baron as a summer home in the country, now a lone oddity surrounded by the industrial wasteland of Sharonville), final Oktoberfest beer booth by the "Pavilion Gang" (only a few of us left with Bill Hutz absent for the first time), major work at Prince of Peace (removal of flaking leaded paint from exterior of church and parish house, required by City Health Department), sealing of exposed brick (also at church and parish house) and addition of clear plastic panels at church to protect the stained glass windows, and finally, the really big event - Conrad moving to Chanute, Kansas. (Sept., 1989) The Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum in Chanute, Kansas, is a small private museum housing much of the Johnson collection and dedicated to their memory, and is concentrated on their pioneering film making in the 1920s and 1930's, doing much of their work in the Solomon Islands, Borneo and East Africa. Much of what they filmed no longer exists. Martin and Osa were both from Kansas, where Osa (Leighty) was born in Chanute (Martin Johnson was a crew member on the "Snark, Jack London's boat which sailed to the South Pacific before WWI and they passed through the Solomon Islands when it was still a German territory). Martin Johnson died in a 1937 plane crash and Osa died in 1955, Osa's mother, Belle Leighty, still lived in Chanute and much of the Johnson material came into her possession and in the early 1960s when the Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum was organized by a group of local volunteers, Belle Leighty donated her Johnson material and this became the foundation of the museum collection. Chanute at one time was a major Santa Fe Railroad shipping and maintenance center and the railroad donated an unused freight building to house this start-up venture. From the time Conrad finished his master's degree work at Miami University he had been looking for something in the anthropology field. He had several temporary jobs, including working in a pizza restaurant so being hired as the director of the Chanute museum was a perfect fit. October Travels: At this time, Laura's parents decided to leave for Florida before Thanksgiving (and before the cold Michigan weather) but Laura's father was no longer driving long distances and her mother certainly wasn't going to drive all the way to Florida, so we volunteered to do chauffeur duty. We drove my little VW Jetta to Michigan and formed a two-car convoy (with their large Chevy sedan) for the long trip. We stopped for an overnight at 346 in Cincinnati, another stop in Tennessee, and then did the final leg to Zephyr Hills. My long drive with Laura's father (in the little Jetta) was uncomfortable at times for he had little interest in my classical music or "Lake Wobegon" tapes, and conversation was difficult. On the return trip Laura and I detoured for several days to Savannah, Georgia, staying at a bed-and-breakfast (East Bay Inn) in a historic part of town and we enjoyed our walks around Oglethorpe's well planned city. Another Passing: In November, Gertrude Moellering died at her nursing home, very old and alone as all her family had gone before. She, her sister Clara, parents and brother had come to Cincinnati from Hampton, Nebraska in 1911, as her father, Rev. Theodore Moellering had taken a call to be pastor of Concordia (then Trinity) Lutheran Church in Over-the-Rhine and after America entered the War in 1917, Gertrude worked in the German affairs section of the Swiss Embassy in Washington, D.C., and for many years whe was an executive secretary at the Gruen Watch Company in Walnut Hills (this company no longer exists). We enjoyed her many tales of growing up in the early 1900s on the Nebraska prairie with the summer lightning storms and winter blizzards, but my fondest memory is the "piano story", which is as follows: her mother (my grandmother's first cousin) ordered a piano, it was shipped by rail from Chicago, and brought to the house in Hampton by horse and wagon, which in itself was a major event, but the peak of excitement was the arrival (from Lincoln) of the piano tuner as he was driving to Hampton in an automobile and no one in that settlement had ever seen an automobile so the whole town gathered for the sight, and even the parochial school was dismissed for the occasion. After Gertrude died her nephew came from St. Louis to collect some photo albums, old books and a few other possessions from the Westwood house that she and her sister Clara had lived in for many years. One time they showed us a grey wool "traveling dress," beautifully handmade by their mother, and I've often wondered what became of that dress. In late fall, we decided we needed another cat so we adopted a female calico kitten from the Cincinnati SPCA. Laura named her "Sweet Memory" in remembrance of Gertrude Moellering but I simply called her "kitty cat". She was a pretty cat, never very large, loved to play games, immediately became my "best friend", tolerated Laura, ignored or rejected nearly all others, had a hysterical reaction to any cat which entered our yard (she was strictly an indoor cat) and had an unbelievable fear of any service or maintenance man who approached the house (even the sight of a service truck parked on our street would send her in panicked flight to hide under a bed on an upper floor). By Thanksgiving and the Christmas season of 1989 we had established certain routines and this year was no exception. The New Year's Eve party at the Hempels, however, was the last hurrah as we didn't know (nor did the Hempel's know) that they would leave Cincinnati the following year. Carmen and Amanda Quishpe came over after Christmas for an "overnight", and we went to the "Festival of Lights" event at the Zoo where there was a special pavilion for the kids, in which there were two polar bear heads (fake) mounted on a wall who would talk to the kids. Amanda (then about six years old) spoke to one head but got no reply so she walked away in disgust, but then the head said "Hello Amanda". Amanda was startled, but then returned and berated the head for not speaking to her before, whereupon the head simply said "I didn't feel like talking then". Mary Froelich, Lorenz's widow from Bonduel, wrote that she and Don Mueller were married in December. Don was a boyhood companion of Lorenz and sort of a Runge relative as his mother, Tillie, was a Rabe girl from St. Paul's, Hanover, in Iowa, and his Aunt Frieda, another Rabe girl from St. Paul's, Hanover, was married to Walter Runge, my Aunt Lydchen's brother; I know very few persons as pleasant and caring as Don Mueller. The 1980s, outside of my architectural career, passed by quickly in what seemed like a series of inevitable happenings, a dream that I watched from afar with one life ending and the beginning of a very different life. This is true in many ways, I suppose, for everyone. JOURNEYMAN ARCHITECT Passing into the later 1980s, the A.M. Kinney organization continued a slow decline, brought about mainly by the loss of process design work, highway and power plant construction and other large civil engineering projects which had been a staple for the company financially. There was also a period of poor management, wasteful spending and financially disastrous projects, largely brought about by the New York office. The architectural group, however, continued to be quite busy and productive. I was involved in many projects, large and small, throughout the Midwest and East Coast, most of which I hardly remember. There was an interesting project in Newark, Ohio (Newark, east of Columbus was a county seat and its late 1800's courthouse was beautifully restored. There was an Air Force base in Newark, and as it was no longer needed as a military airfield, a new use had to be found to keep the facility open and provide employment. President Reagan had promoted a new ICMB program and Newark was chosen as the site to calibrate the guidance systems of the missiles (the missiles, when launched high into the stratosphere, would seek out the north star for orientation and the programmed target). A large building was extensively renovated, with a raised floor system because of numerous underfloor cables, a large window on the northwall and a concrete pedestal whose footing extended down to bedrock. After the initial meeting for this project I rode back to Cincinnati with Don Reeder, then president of AMK - somewhere south of Columbus he ran out of gas. Fortunately, we were near an exit so I had to hitchhike to a nearby town for a container of gas. A friend, Dennis Dellinger, had started an architectural practice in Blue Ash (a suburb northeast of Cincinnati) and he needed help, so I spent several Saturdays in late 1987 and early 1988 at his small office, writing specifications. Much of 1988 and 1989 I was the project architect for a large commission from Eli Lilly. The company management decided that their main computer center at the headquarter complex just south of downtown Indianapolis was vulnerable to tornado damage so we were asked to design a new computer center (tornado proof) at their manufacturing campus southwest of the city. It was a 2-story building, with the computer center on the upper level, personnel offices, employee lounge, kitchen and dining room on the lower level and there were enclosed passageways connecting to other buildings (paperwork and materials were delivered by bicycle couriers). During this time, I also worked on a project for Frito-Lay in Frankfort, Indiana, where we did upgrades to an existing potato chip plant and it was fascinating to watch the fully automated operation, from raw potato to packaged and palleted end product, and memorable because Bill Hutz was the Frito-Lay project architect so we worked together again, but this time on a client/consultant basis. There was also a laboratory project in Western Pennsylvania, memorable because of one particular flight on the company plane where we would fly into a small regional airport in that mountainous area, and on one flight because of low clouds and overcast conditions the pilots could not find the airport. Fortunately, the airport had a central tower, who said they could hear us but not see us, so the pilots asked them to flash the runway lights, and we found the airport. This was an interesting experience. Other changes, as always, happened at AMK: A good friend, Bob Preslar, left to work for GE and they sent him to Australia (Bob and I worked and traveled together on many projects) and Mary Johnson died probably in her late 50's (our former "rumor control" when we were on the 4th floor). Mary never adapted to the fast-paced CAD environment at KZF (she followed Bill Wilson there in 1986) and she was one of the few women at that time to have an architectural degree, but she never followed through with the examinations required to become a registered architect, lived her whole life at the family home in Bond Hill (Mary was a heavy smoker). Walter Connelly died. Walter, who brought me into the Art Club, retired in 1985 (originally from Canada, where as a young man he ran the high hurdles in track), designed and had built his dream house on a lake in Northern Kentucky ('85-'86), but didn't live very long to enjoy it (the best laid plans--). Hugo Rooman retired in August, 1989. Rob Pipes, after finally getting married, and designing his own house, left to join a start-up firm. Don Reeder died (heart attack, my age but a heavy smoker). Don grew up in Lincoln, Nebraska, was quiet and unassuming, saying he never understood how he became president of A.M. Kinney. In October, 1990, Jason Popelka and I went to a 3-day roofing conference in Denver (Jason was then the architectural specifications writer) and the event was useful, but the best part was a drive up to Rocky Mountain National Park one afternoon when we had some free time (Jason left next year for a job with HOK in St. Louis). I continued to work on several projects for Mead Johnson (acquired by Bristol-Myers) in Evansville, and a project for Fisher Scientific in Warsaw, Indiana (my first experience working with robots). Fisher manufactured medical devices and the plant manager was delighted with the robots, saying that they worked 24 hours, 7 days a week, never complained and never went on strike). There was also a new office/laboratory building for Witco in Houston, Texas, and a testing laboratory for the U.S. Navy in Norfolk, Virginia (large ships, aircraft carriers and cruisers, were visible in the harbor, but except for guards at the gate, we rarely saw a person in uniform as our clients were all civilian employees). There was an interesting project in Cairo, Egypt for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. A new building was needed for reconditioning and chrome plating of gun barrels for Egyptian Army tanks (this had to be done periodically to maintain firing accuracy) and the Egyptians approved of my design except that the window pattern had to be changed as when viewed in a certain way it resembled a cross which was not acceptable in Moslem eyes. We had a project in Duluth, Minnesota, consisting of renovations to several buildings at an EPA facility. The AMK project manager was Charles Winkler, he was from southcentral Texas and did not like snow (we had to visit the site several times in the winter, usually flying commercial to Minneapolis, and from there a smaller jet to Duluth). On one return, there was a heavy snowfall in Duluth and as we waited in the terminal, watching plows clearing the runway, Charlie became increasingly nervous so he finally went to the boarding desk and asked about the weather in Minneapolis whereupon the girl checked her screen and said "Sleet, freezing rain and somewhat overcast. Not bad." "Not bad!" Charlie cried out "What's bad?" In a somewhat better environment (spring time), we did a steam generating plant in Maryland for National Starch where the client insisted that they would work with the local building department but this was not done, so there was a building permit issue when the job was completed. We did a major renovation of offices and laboratories at an existing building for the dental school at Ohio State University in Columbus, in which a new ventilation system was installed in a very tight space. There was a noise problem when the system was put into operation, so we had to hire an acoustic consultant, who recommended a large sheet metal diversion chamber on the roof, and it worked. There was a very large project for Lexmark in Lexington, Kentucky, involving the production of computer chips in a totally clean atmosphere which became a very challenging design problem. Peter Refuse (another AMK architect) and I drove to Lexington many times and on one return trip we decided to go backroads instead of the interstate, and where we were held up in one rural area by a mule standing in the road. Another Ohio Project was for Dap Chemical in Tipp City, a few miles north of Dayton where the client wanted to expand the production of sealants manufacturing. There was much controversy over whether or not the facility would be considered a hazardous occupancy because of the storage and use of solvents. Al Hallum, the AMK project manager, modified an aerial photo of the site showing a mushroom cloud resulting from a huge explosion, but the client people were not amused. Finally, a local project, St. Mary's Seminary in Norwood, built in 1918-1920, abandoned in 1970's, stripped of nearly all furnishings, including the chapel, much of the plumbing and electrical infrastructure and the main boilers. The building was sold by the diocese for one dollar to an extreme conservative Roman Catholic group who wanted to create a retreat center (this group would meet at the site yearly to await an appearance by the Virgin Mary). The building was huge, 4 stories with hundreds of small bedrooms for the seminarians, apartments for the faculty, a large chapel, dining hall, infirmary, library, gymnasium, indoor swimming pool, bowling alley, recreation center (for card playing and billiards), 2 large interior courts, and strangely, only 4 classrooms. The north wing was divided by a masonry wall, basement to roof, which, on the north side of this wall, were the nun's quarters, their bedrooms, the main kitchen, laundry, sewing/linens workspaces, and a tunnel leading to a screened area in the chapel. The only penetration in this wall was at the infirmary, and I often wondered if there was a high rate of illness among the seminarians. AMK was commissioned to make drawings of areas to be renovated, bring these areas into code compliance and obtain building permits - I spent many hours, alone, going through long abandoned and empty spaces, in late afternoons especially (there were no lights), quiet, except for the sounds of an old building. I had a feeling of unease. Another local project, for the City of Cincinnati - a new roof for the main city bus (Metro) storage and repair facility. It was a huge roof, but had to be totally replaced as there were many leaks, the insulation did not meet current standards, and the original built-up roofing used coal tar, a wonderful material for waterproofing if the roof surface is flat. But if there is a slope, even a small slope, hot sun in the summer melts the coal tar into an oozing, slippery liquid which then flows into (and clogs) the roof drains, and causes the whole roof surface to slide downward, breaking loose flashings and roof curbs. The existing roofing and insulation were removed down to the metal deck, new insulation, roofing, flashing and drain lines were installed - a major and costly undertaking. The construction manager for the City, John Deatrick, many years later was the construction manager for the largest project ever completed in the region - new football and baseball stadiums and redevelopment of the riverfront (and many more years later, in 2015, was construction manager for the Cincinnati streetcar project), and he showed me his house in Mount Auburn, one of the oldest houses in the city, which he was restoring to its original appearance. There was a project for Alcoa in Lafayette, Indiana - cylindrical castings were made from pure molten aluminum for shipment to manufactures of aluminum products and the existing facility was being enlarged. Another lost opportunity came as we were commissioned by Cintas (a growing company) to do a uniform cleaning and distribution center, including offices for management and marketing, to become a prototype for many similar facilities throughout the country (I learned about regional practices for "right-hand" and "left-hand" coat hanger systems), but unfortunately there was a fierce debate between the client and our remaining architectural designer, Max Worthington, over the cost of construction so we did no more projects for Cintas. At this time, I also did a "pro bono" kitchen and dining room for a soup kitchen in Over-the-Rhine (getting a building permit from the City was probably the major effort). The A.M. Kinney organization continued its decline. Art Pfirrmann retired in June, 1992. Art was not an architect, but was the steadfast project manager for nearly all Mead Johnson/Bristol Myers work for many years, so I worked with him on many of these projects, and always appreciated his patience and forbearance with my "just in time" completions on scheduled dates (Art Pfirrmann died May, 2011). Max Worthington and Bob Buemer left for greener pastures, Erich Zwertschek retired, and Tom Lindsey, a promising young architect, left to join a local architectural firm. A young woman was hired who had a master's degree and taught a course in architectural design at the University, but she proved to be completely inexperienced in her understanding of architectural construction. I helped her design a stair (she had no idea how this was done) and so became her "friend". She did learn, however, how to alter the "title block" of drawings so that she could list herself as the "designer". She lived in Clifton, an old apartment building just north of Ludlow, and she told me of wild late night rides through the city on the back of her boyfriend's motorcycle, and of an incident (which I thought amusing), when after work she would shower then walk about in her apartment sans clothing and somehow guys from across the street got her phone number, called and said they enjoyed the show, "a bunch of perverts" she said, angry at being spied on. She often left her work unfinished or behind schedule, and began leaving the office to run personal errands or to go shopping, but when disciplined she threatened to sue for "sex discrimination". AMK management was perplexed as to how to deal with this situation but fortunately she left for a job in another city (followed a boyfriend who also relocated). A.M. Kinney Jr. (the owner of the company and generally known as "Junior") died while visiting his "dream home" under construction on the Carolina coast, and he was succeeded by A.M. Kinney III, (generally known as "Trip") who, while well meaning, was totally unprepared for management of a multi-disciplined consulting firm. Robert Thrun, the nominal head of the architectural group, left for a marketing job in Northern Kentucky and the remnant of the company moved to the first floor and basement of the building, abandoning the 3 upper floors (it was rather unnerving to walk through those empty spaces, cluttered with drafting tables and piles of old drawings, which once bustled with activity). The architectural group was reduced to myself, George Neilsen, Peter Refuse, Dave Stoll and a few CAD draftsmen (the stalwart Dave Stoll was totally engrossed in restoring an 1814 farmhouse in Southeast Indiana where he lived alone). There was plenty of unused space, so I was given my own office. My final years at AMK continued to be busy with productive architectural work. One of the most enjoyable projects of my career was for Sotheby's in New York City. We had done some building code studies for Sotheby's in '96, so when they decided that they needed a full-time architectural consultant, AMK was selected, and they wanted someone from our office at all times at their main building (Upper East Side, York and 72nd), as they were constantly renovating or needing studies for this building (their primary art auction center), or 2 other Manhattan locations. 3 AMK architects, George Nielsen, Peter Refuse and myself formed a "tag team," one flying in on a Sunday night, leaving on a Wednesday night, the next member flying in on Wednesday morning and leaving on a Saturday morning, so there was always a half-day overlap midweek, and this went on for several months, until there was a pullback at Sotheby's because of a price-fixing scandal involving Christie's in London and Federal investigations (the Sotheby's C.O.E., "Dee Dee" Brooks was indicted). Peter found a great little hotel, "Broadway Inn", a 3-story walk-up, near Times Square (46th and 8th Avenue) so I usually flew into Newark, and as the main Manhattan bus terminal was in Midtown I could easily walk to the hotel. George did not like staying on Manhattan so always rented a car and stayed at "Red Roof Inn" in Jersey City (on one occasion George and I were at Sotheby's for several days so I also had a room at this "red Roof Inn". George always had the same room, adjacent to a balcony overlooking the Newark Bay tidal flats, and on a warm summer evening, as we were looking out on this desolate landscape, George, with martini in hand, said "Ah- this is the life". From the "Broadway Inn" I usually took a bus up to Central Park West and then a crosstown on 65th, which turned back only a block from Sotheby's, which was much more interesting than taking a cab (I always found New Yorkers to be friendly and talkative - an easy way to start a conversation was to complain, usually about the weather or the bus service). Working at Sotheby's was a fascinating experience, and once, when I was taking measurements in the jewelry appraisal area, a woman, probably in her late 30's, came in excited because she had just spoken to Caroline Kennedy in one of the galleries - "It was better than sex, she said, but then after a pause "well, maybe not better than sex". This area had windows overlooking the main auction floor so she wanted to know, "Those men down there," (the ones holding up numbered paddles to make bids) "do they have money?" I said that perhaps some of them had money, but others might just be buyers for other clients. "Well," she said, "I'm coming back tomorrow, dressed to kill, and I'll meet some of those men with money." The young man in charge of Sotheby's renovations was from England (his first name was Conrad) and when I mentioned that I had a son named Conrad, he said that his mother's friends were very much opposed to this name, saying "Conrad! That's no name for a baby". A large Methodist Church in Northern Kentucky, built in 1930's, was Anglican style with raised chancel, pulpit, altar and railing but the current building committee decided that this was not liturgically "Methodist" so the altar, pulpit and railing were removed and the chancel converted into a choir area. For many months, I worked on a project for Aldrich Chemical who produced fine chemicals (used mostly in the pharmaceutical industry) and were relocating production from an old building near downtown Milwaukee to a new facility in a rural area northwest of the city (it was sad to see good Wisconsin farmland obliterated forever by a "big box" development). At this time, the work at AMK was becoming more of a drudgery - many small projects with demanding schedules and tight budgets. There was a project for Pillsbury in Wellston, Ohio (upgrading an existing facility) but was fascinating to watch a fully automated frozen pancake operation where ten arms with spatulas flipping ten identical pancakes on a heated conveyer, also a building code/feasibility study at a former guitar manufacturing plant in Kalamazoo, Michigan and a project to replace old elevators at several Cincinnati high schools. I did a complete architectural design for an office, laboratory and employee support building in North Bend, Ohio, unique because the exterior doors and other openings had to have airtight seals, and there was an alarm system and emergency air supply as the site had several large liquid nitrogen tanks, which, if there were a major leak, all living things in the vicinity would be suffocated. It was pleasing work, however, as I had complete control over the architectural design. One of my last projects at AMK was the Tom Geiger House in the Walnut Hills area of Cincinnati, which was a new building with apartments for battered women and their children, and included a recreation area and a complete childcare center. There were complex zoning issues as the site was the playground of a former Catholic parochial school (for the now closed Assumption Parish on Gilbert Avenue) and building code issues because of windows that had to be operable, but not to the extent that women could allow male friends into their bedrooms. The project was funded mostly by private donations and grants, but also by a small amount of city money, and for this reason the city insisted that the construction contract had to be given to a minority contractor, and that union labor rates had to be paid, so there was only one bidder, a small enterprise owned by a family originally from southern India (the darker skinned people of southern India were considered "minority"), but they had virtually no experience as general contractors, resulting in a continuing series of crises (and at a cost which exceeded our estimates). "Trip" Kinney was desperate to either lease a good part of our building, or even to sell it outright. Children's Hospital was looking for space, and I did a number of studies in which the lower floors of our building would be converted into a day care center (eventually Children's Hospital bought the entire property, converting the building to office space, and constructing a separate day care center behind the building). AMK had downsized from over 400 employees in Cincinnati (all the satellite offices had been closed, the Chicago office was the last to go), to about 40, and was relocated to a leased space on the 7th floor of the Federal Reserve Bank Building, 4th and Main, downtown. During all this turmoil, I received a call from KZF (an A-E firm with about 100 employees) saying that they were looking for a senior architect and I was offered a substantial increase in pay and a generous vacation package so I accepted. In September, 1999, after more than 33 years, I left A.M. Kinney Associates. PERPETUAL MOTION The 1980's were years of changes and the 1990's were years of continuing happenings, which for the most part, I was merely a spectator, watching events as they streamed by. In march of 1990 Laura decided to do the 10K Heartwalk, a Heart Association fund raiser, walking from downtown, out along Columbia Parkway above the river for 5K then back again, involving many thousands of walkers, water, music and food (sometimes) along the way but always food at the end - the weather (typical for Cincinnati) sometime warm and sunny, sometimes cold and rainy - I don't think I did the walk that year, but have done so every year since (another of our traditions, I walked for the last time in 2013). On a May evening in 1990 (high school prom night) Mary and Don Mueller were in Cincinnati. Laura and I joined them for dinner at La Normandie, a moderately priced restaurant below the very pricey Maisonette. Afterwards, during a stroll, Mary saw horses and carriages, and soon the four of us were taking a carriage ride. When we stopped next to a car, the car window opened, and a young man said to Don, "Pardon me, sir, would you have any Grey Poupon?" (At the time this was the commercial name of a very popular type of mustard.) This episode greatly amused Don. Easter dinner was at the Hempel's, but sadly Joel took a call to St. Louis, leaving in June, which again was the end of an era, and the ICCPE program at Prince of Peace faded away except for a volunteer counseling service by Jane Jansak and Sister Barbara. April, in Westerville, Ohio, where Karen and John Murdock had moved from Cleveland, we had a surprise 40th birthday party for Dave Goodell (Laura's brother). He was his usual curmudgeonly self, but enjoyed every moment of the celebration. 1990 marked the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Cincinnati Art Club and there were many festivities, including a formal dinner (which Laura and I attended). A good friend, Oren Miller, was president of the club then and did much of the work putting the celebration together, but sadly, Oren died a few months later (congestive heart failure, he was only in his 50's). A group of us from the Art Club, after the memorial service, held an "Irish wake". August, 1990, the big event of the year: The Third Runge Cousin's Reunion, Table Rock Lake in the Ozark region of Southwest Missouri, which came to be the grandest of all the cousins' reunions with most of the cousins (thirteen were there except for Roland Nicolaus who never left his cows in Wisconsin) and Gerda Heyse and Kathy Tax, who lived on the East Coast and many of the next generation, including Conrad and Becky, also making an appearance. Laura and I had purchased a new car in July (a white Chevrolet Lumina) so in early August we were ready for the long drive to the reunion. First stop was New Harmony, Indiana (in a far southwest corner of the state) where we stayed in the Red Geranium, a very modern hotel and conference center. New Harmony was created by a German Pietist group from Pennsylvania in 1814 who bought several thousand acres of wilderness and built a complete, functioning city, however, their leader, George Rapp, said they were directed by God to return to Pennsylvania, so the whole enterprise was sold in 1825 to Robert Owen, an English idealist who wanted to create a perfect community of intellectuals, writers and scientists, and this project continued for several years but ultimately failed financially. Many of the Harmonie and Owen buildings still stand, and there is an open-air chapel, designed by Philip Johnson, dedicated to the original Harmonie settlers (a fascinating place to visit.) The Reunion headquarters was at the Kimberling Arms Motel, which is on the lake and had a great dock facility, but did not have a suitable picnic area for our large group (about 40 of us) so Bill Schilke and I decided to scout out the area for a better site. We found, and reserved, a pavilion at Table Rock State Park, nearby and also on the lake. Clem Runge brought ample cheese from a recent Wisconsin visit, Bill Schilke brought several samples of his homemade wine, and there was plenty of food, beer, and wonderful conversations far into the night. One afternoon Laura and I drove into Branson (a tourist mecca) and took a land/lake cruise on a "duck" (WWII amphibious vehicle). After the reunion, we headed north, stopping at the Wilson's Creek Battlefield, near Springfield, Mo., Civil War, August 1861, (I wanted to see it - Laura wasn't much interested) significant because it kept Missouri in the Union. A small force of Federal regulars, supplemented by Iowa Militia (who wore grey uniforms) and German-American regiments from St. Louis, made a surprise attack on a much larger Confederate force, and all went well until the Germans mistook a Confederate counterattack for the Iowa Militia, and there was a language problem as German was not the lingua franca in southwest Missouri. We then drove north to Lamar, Mo. to see the birthplace of Harry Truman, and then further north into Iowa, where the first stop was in Charter Oak to visit Irma Fiene, Hans and Agnes Schau, then a quick look at Hanover Church, and finally a stop in Glidden, Iowa (in the heart of Iowa hog and corn country). Mark Schuler had been ordained from the Seminary in St. Louis and was on an academic track, but first had to serve time in a parish so he was pastor of Peace Lutheran Church in Glidden and Rhoda was continuing her advanced degree work, mostly by correspondence. They were living in the parsonage, shocked the local folk by removing wall-to-wall carpeting and refinishing the beautiful hardwood floors. Last stop was in Iowa City to visit cousin Dick Runge and Brownie (Miriam) where Dick was a professor in the University of Iowa German Department and Brownie was working at the University library. We drove around the old part of the campus and out to the old Delt house on North Dubuque where not much changed it seemed (fading memories from 40 years before). Early September we went to the wedding of Laura's close friend, Caroline Davidson to Charles Fehr at the Lutheran Church in Fairview/Clifton Heights (not far from my old house on Fairview Avenue, the Lutherans moved out a few years later). Caroline and Charlie were one generation removed from the old German Lutheran community in Over-the-Rhine, now scattered to Westwood and the suburbs, and they both worked in the City Finance Department. Caroline lived in an apartment building at the base of Clifton Avenue, overlooking Over-the-Rhine (her parents were no longer living) and Charlie (who never drove a car because of an eyesight problem) lived with his mother in Westwood so Caroline moved into the Westwood house. Laura's 4C office moved from Reading Road to a building on East McMillan in Walnut Hills. Another life changing event, but first, some background: (a) 346 Terrace is about 5 blocks from the University of Cincinnati, unfortunately mostly uphill; (b) two venerable Cincinnati institutions from the 1800s; the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music and the College of Music of Cincinnati, merged in 1955, and then in 1967 moved to the University of the Cincinnati, becoming the core of the music school, the College Conservatory of Music (CCM); (c) Laura continued her piano lessons with Carl Payne and we continued our membership in the Keyboard Club. In September, Atarah Jablonsky, an active member of the Keyboard Club, called Laura saying she had a problem as they were hosting an Israeli girl, 16 years old, who had a cello scholarship at CCM, but unfortunately, the Jablonsky's lived in Wyoming and a long distance from the city bus stop (Mr. Jablonsky was trained as a dentist but lost a hand in the war so he had some sort of sales job - for him a bitter experience). The girl, her name was Timora Rosler, was supposed to take a city bus then walk the remaining distance but this was a long and tedious journey, especially toting a cello so Timora started hitchhiking. Atarah thought that this was unacceptable. Atarah knew that we had a large house and lived not far from the University so she asked Laura if we would consider taking in the girl. Laura was somewhat taken aback, checked with me, and told her "perhaps". Atarah said, "We'll be there in 30 minutes" and when Atarah arrived with Timora, a very pretty, slender, dark-eyed girl, we gave them a tour of the house. Timora said "I like" and she moved in the next day. We put Timora in the small bedroom on the southwest corner of the second floor, and although Kittycat would have nothing to do with Timora, she was curious about this new person's room so Timora immediately kept the door shut, fearful that the cat would damage her cello. One night, shortly after she moved in, we had a very loud thunderstorm and Timora was quite frightened, certain that it was an Arab rocket attack. Although Timora's English was reasonably good, the University required her to take a remedial English class, where her classmates were "bayzballplayers" she said, "very stupid" (very likely they were football and basketball players on athletic scholarship, and probably barely literate). In one of her classes everyone was asked to give their name and tell where they were from - a student ahead of Timora said they were from "Palestine" and this frightened her, so she said "Timora Rosler, New York". She was sponsored by a Cincinnati Jewish organization, so in late September Atarah called Timora and told her that she and some other Jewish ladies were taking her (Timora) to a synagogue for a Rosh Hashana service. "What, exactly" Timora asked me "is Rosh Hashana?" She came from a very secular family and knew only that Rosh Hashana was some sort of holiday (as most Americans know nothing of the religious roots of Halloween or Mardi Gras) and after returning from the synagogue service, she said, it was "very boring". Daily life soon became very routine in the morning as Timora would walk to the bus stop with her cello (there was a dispute with one bus driver, which Laura had to resolve, about whether or not Timora would be allowed to board the bus with her cello) and I would pick her up at CCM after work. One Saturday afternoon when I came home I heard a lot of activity in the basement, and Timora came up, saying "the kitty is so poor", for it seems that Kittycat got into a pan of grease on the stove, knocking the pan to the floor and covering herself with grease and Laura was degreasing Kittycat with detergent in the basement laundry tub, saying 'Oh, the poor kitty". October, we went to Indianapolis for a Symphony concert, taking Timora along and staying with the Schilke's - after the concert we had a party at a Greek restaurant (lustily singing Greek songs) joined by Charles and Rosemary Rader, who were in the orchestra. November, we went to the Brandt's (at their house in Over-the-Rhine) for Jeff's birthday where Jeff put on a spirited show. Timora was not impressed. We had our usual Christmas Eve party after church (Laura would make a large pot of hot mull cider), always a pleasant event, and although we missed the Hempels, there were some new faces, Melanie Lieuwen, a young woman who was very active in working with our inner city youth (her parents, Francis and Trina Lieuwen were from the Netherlands - he from Holland, she from Freisland - they were not members of Prince of Peace, but very supportive of our work in Over-the-Rhine), and Else Tasseron, a woman in her 50s, also from the Netherlands (her ancestors were Huguenots, refugees from persecutions in France). Else, who was fluent in many languages, loved to tell the story of how, as a young woman, working for the International Council of Churches in Geneva, and not familiar with English idioms, shocked her fellows at dinner by announcing that she had just heard that the Archbishop of Canterbury had "kicked the bucket". After Christmas, we had a visit from Gordon and Audrey Henry, who were in Cincinnati to see their daughter Laura and we also had Carmen and Amanda Quishpe here for an overnight where Amanda spent a good part of the time chasing Kittycat. A good part of 1991 was occupied by our new "ward", Timora Rosler, for she was a talented cellist and soon was in demand for recitals and performances, both at CCM and elsewhere; there was a fellow Israeli at CCM, Yehonatan (Jonathan) Berick, a handsome fellow in his early twenties and a superb violinist (Timora's family was politically very liberal, Yehonatan definetly conservative). Yehonatan and Timora gave recitals together for their sponsors in the Jewish community (Yehonatan was living with a wealthy Jewish family in North Avondale) so we met several classical music devotees from that group (I knew one of the ladies from the Art Club) and also many students and faculty from CCM, including Henry Meyer and Peter Kamnitzer of the renowned LaSalle Quartet (Henry, 2nd violin, Peter, viola); the Lasalle was the quartet in residence at CCM for many years, formed by 4 young musicians in New York City, refugees from post war Europe (Henry said they were trying to decide on a name for their new group, looked up and saw a street sign, "LaSalle"). Timora by this time, had fallen in love with a fellow student at CCM, Christian von Bohries (Chris), a flutist, studying conducting, in his mid-twenties, fluent in several languages, intelligent and sophisticated, from Berlin, where his parents were archaeologists. "He is soooo German," gushed Timora ("of course" she said "Germans can be very dangerous" - words of wisdom from a young Israeli girl). In February Timora gave a recital at our house - Brandt's and Towe's were there, and Chris of course, as well as other musically inclined friends, including Curt and Ginny Wilhelm. Curt had retired from AMK but we would see them at every Symphony concert (Laura gave a piano recital at the Wilhelm house in Hyde Park where Curt was taking piano lessons but he never really got the hang of it). Bill and Dagmar Schilke came for a short stay, along with cousin Tina Lewis. Tina loved cats but Kittycat would have nothing to do with her and as they were leaving, Tina turned to Kittycat and said, "Goodbye you little creep." Late in April we, along with several others from Prince of Peace, went to St. Louis (Webster Groves) for Nathan Hempel's confirmation and where Joel had taken a position as chaplain of a large Lutheran senior center/nursing home (formerly a Catholic convent and retreat center) and Marcia also worked for the organization. We stayed with cousin Eleanor and Norm Holle, and Friday night we went to a fish fry (and bier fest) at cousin Clem Runge's Luthean church in nearby Ferguson. In May, Dave Goodell (Laura's brother) flew to Florida to drive Laura's parents back to Michigan for the summer, so they stopped in Cincinnati for a few days. Laura's mother said she was allergic to cats, so Kittycat was exiled to the third floor. Later in May Laura and I drove to Madison, Indiana, a historic town on the Ohio River where much of the early 1800s downtown has been preserved. We also toured the magnificent 1850s Lanier Mansion with its great lawn extending down to the Ohio (son/only Lanier child drowned in the river shortly after the mansion was finished). Early June we were off to Westerville, Ohio for William Murdock's high school graduation (Will was the oldest son of Karen and John). The ceremony was held at the high school stadium and to my astonishment everyone stood with the playing of "Deutschland Uber Alles", finding out later that this tune, the German and Austrian) national hymn was used for the Westerville High School Song, for apparently the high school music director (who composed the song) had immigrated from Germany. Afterwards, there was a party at the Murdock house. Timora meanwhile was very busy with her cello activities, performances and recitals, locally and in other parts of the country. Traveling by air was always a problem as she would never consider checking her cello as baggage and airlines generally required the cello (which in its case was huge) to have a separate ticket as it occupied a full seat. One time she asked me to help her practice crying as someone had told her that if she cried big tears, the airline would allow her to board without a separate ticket for the cello, and another time, at the airport, she asked me to stand at the boarding entrance with the cello and as she walked into the boarding ramp I was to pass the cello to her but it didn't work, with the result that an airline official took us aside and scolded Timora, but he finally relented, saying she could board without a separate ticket (this one time) as there were empty seats. Timora was very protective of her cello, and a seer had predicted a repeat of the great New Madrid earthquake of 1811, so she wrapped the cello in blankets and pillows but of course the earthquake never happened. Because of constant practice she was having arm and shoulder pains so an orthopedic specialist was recommended, which is how she met Dr. Uri Remea. Uri and his wife Yael who were originally from Israel, and soon became very close friends to all of us. In June,we decided it was time for a trip to Michigan, so off we went, with Timora and the cello (Timora did not like staying alone in our big old house). The best part of the long weekend was the canoe episode in which one could rent canoes at a small lake in Milford and paddle up a quiet river, with Timora, Danny and I in one canoe, Laura, Sue and Jamie in the other. I was no expert in canoeing but knew enough not to stand once we had cast off but this did not deter Timora, so we capsized several times as we were getting under way. Fortunately, the lake was only about 4 feet deep and Timora was having so much fun with this rural adventure that the cello sat silent the whole time. That summer (1991) we started thinking about renovating the first-floor bathroom which originally was a pantry, with a door to the kitchen, a swinging door to the dining room (which we called the "family room") and a large built in pantry cabinet with drawers, doors, a counter and large sliding glass doors. A previous owner had walled off the door to the kitchen, changed the swinging door to regular door, added a toilet and metal shower stall and bricked up the lower part of the window for a lavatory, but the space had no heat or ventilation. I drew plans which divided the space into 2 separate rooms, one a small hallway with the pantry cabinet, the other a bathroom with tiled floor and walls, toilet, lavatory and shower stall, plus the window was restored to its original height, with a double casement window (the new wall met the casement vertical mullion so there was an operable window at each room), a new door connected the rooms, and ducted heat and a ventilation fan were added to the bathroom. I acted as general contractor, getting bids for the labor and buying the materials (bathroom fixtures, window, tile, shower door, etc) and I did all the painting and also completely stripped and refinished the pantry cabinet and other wood frames and trim, all of which this kept me busy for several months. Kathleen Henson had a show of her work at a downtown restaurant, and we bought a beautiful framed and matted black-and-white print of Over-the-Rhine, which we often have hanging in the living room. Kathleen and her husband divorced later in the year and she reverted to her original name "Kathleen Prudence." In July, we went up the Ravinia Music Festival (Bill and Dagmar Schilke were with us) as both Timora and Yehonathan were invited participants (we also met with Uri and Yael Remea while we were there). Timora gave a recital at Uri and Yael Remea's house - Yael's father was an artist and his paintings were hung throughout the house, including a magnificent large painting of Jerusalem in the living room. On one of her performance trips, Timora was heard by a renowned Brazilian cellist who was also at Yale University so he invited Timora to play for him at his summer home in Western Maryland. On August 17, 1991, we were off to Maryland, but this part of Maryland is in the Appalachian foothills, more like West Virginia than the east shore. We had a room at the Wisp (a ski resort in the winter) near McHenry so while Timora was having her cello audience, Laura and I decided to drive to the Antietam Battlefield in central Maryland (Civil War, September, 1862). Antietam was the bloodiest one-day battle in American history (23,000 killed and wounded) where Robert E. Lee decided to cross the Potomac and "liberate" Maryland (a border State which was still part of the Union). The Confederates were surprised when the locals met them with indifference or outright hostility and the Union Army had an opportunity for a major victory (they had found a copy of Lee's battleplan) but the Union commander, McClellan, hesitated (didn't want to commit his "beautiful army" to battle, and thought, incorrectly, that he was greatly outnumbered by Lee) so the result was a bloody draw. Lee, however, was forced to retreat to Virginia, and thus the carnage was considered a Union "victory". We toured the battlefield and visited the Union cemetery (great circles of headstones, arranged by State, many with names unknown). I thought of the circles of graves at St. Anne Convent in Northern Kentucky. Timora was offered a very generous full scholarship at Yale, plus a dormitory room and food allowance and she accepted, but the head of the CCM cello department was furious at losing his prized pupil. August 24th, we were off again, but this time to New Haven, Connecticut, and Yale University, together with Timora, the cello and all her possessions. We found a motel near downtown and got Timora into her dorm, and she had to go through some sort of new student orientation which gave us a chance to explore the campus, which, as Yale is a private school, much of the campus is intermingled with the surrounding city (no eminent domain). With my gray hair and wearing a jacket and tie, I was stopped several times by incoming new students, asking a "professor" for directions. I did have a chance to look into the new architectural design studios which I think were updated from the Paul Rudolph days and the rare books library addition from the early 1980s designed by Gordon Bunstiaft (SOM). We had a free day before classes started so the 3 of us drove up to the hinterlands (there are, or were then, rural areas and quiet small towns in Connecticut), and then down the coast where we had a fresh seafood dinner in Guilford. End of August, we said our farewells, not certain that we would ever see Timora again (in truth, she became a dear friend and we were together many times through the years). At Prince of Peace, the preschool continued to survive, but it was becoming a struggle financially, and Susan Cacini took over as director in September. For some time, I noticed that the sight in my right eye was becoming clouded so in October I had cataract surgery in this eye resulting in a miraculous outcome, nearly perfect vision, but I still had to wear glasses when driving. Early November we went to a wedding in Indianapolis (Bill and Dagmar's son, David) which proved to be a short-lived marriage. From late summer until Mid-November I had been working on the final painting and refinishing for the new bathroom/hallway project, so when it was done, we decided to have a celebration. On Saturday evening, November 23, 1991, we had a "Bathroom Party", which was probably the largest gathering ever at 346 Terrace. There were friends from AMK, 4C, and Prince of Peace, Bill and Dagmar Schilke from Brownsburg, and Bernice Abrams, our next-door neighbor. Folks came with various bathroom related gifts - Bill Schilke made a miniature but very authentic, outhouse (eventually mounted above the door to the basement toilet room), and Rob Pipes brought a small scale, but functional plunger (which we actually used for many years). I created a game in which outrageous prizes were awarded based on numbers (sometimes rigged) drawn from a hat. It was a grand affair, but sadly, there would never be another quite like it. The next year (1992) was one of many travels - some planned, some spur of the moment, which started in late January with a trip to Grand Cayman to visit Pat and Earl Smith. The Cayman Islands are south of Cuba, west of Jamaica, remote and semi-arid, and a British possession (by the late 17th century Spain had lost control of the Caribbean except for Cuba, Puerto Rico and the eastern half of Hispaniola - Britain, France, Netherlands and Denmark divided up the rest). The largest island, Grand Cayman is only 22 miles long, with the highest elevation only 50 feet above sea level and until the island was "discovered" by tourists (and European bankers) in the 1970s, the place was a little-known backwater. The inhabitants were descended from a collection of shipwrecked sailors, pirates and runaway slaves who eked out a living fishing, raising goats on scrubby patches of land (which they called "plantations"), and salvaging shipwrecks. They spoke an English patois, and whether pink skinned or quite dark, considered themselves "Scotch-Irish" and they did not mix with Jamaican immigrants who worked in banks and tourist hotels in Georgetown, the only city on the island. On a vacation visit in the early 1980s the Smith decided that this would be an ideal winter getaway, so they bought several acres of land, part of it on the shore, in the very remote (at that time) east end of the island. At that time, there was no place on the island to buy construction materials; plumbing supplies or hardware, so everything had to be shipped from the U.S. or brought in as luggage, but year by year Earl built a comfortable home with modern plumbing and electricity. He built a workshop in which he made "worry boards" and other items fashioned from driftwood which were then sold at tourist shops in Georgetown. The island is surrounded by shipwrecks - a fleet of English warships ran aground in the 1700s near the Smith's place, so Earl decided to salvage two of the cannon, rigging a floatation device and bringing them ashore (the cannon were French, probably captured by the English during the Seven Years War, we know it as the French and Indian War). Earl constructed a large concrete tank to immerse the cannon in a constant flow of freshwater to leech out the sea salt (the metal would disintegrate if this were not done) and after about a 2-year bath, the cannons were cleaned and painted, then mounted in the front yard, on either side of a flag pole, which flew the Caymanian flag in the center with a U.S. and Australian flag in each side (Pat was originally from Australia). Earl also fabricated a beautiful dining table from the deck of a sunken yacht and on a wall, he mounted a large brass propeller salvaged from another wreck. Grand Cayman is surrounded by shipwrecks and Earl took us to the far east shore where there were still the remains of large sailing ship which went aground in the 1940s, and as the ship was loaded with lumber and most of the houses in that part of the island, Earl said, were built with lumber salvaged from that wreck. On the north side of the island there is a bay, which in earlier times, in late afternoons, fisherman would clean their catch, throwing the offal into the bay which attracted rays who came in from the sea and after time it became a habitual feeding time for the rays. By the 1980s this event had become a tourist attraction, and for a fee one could be boated from Georgetown to the bay, fitted with snorkel gear and given buckets of cut up octopus so Laura and I decided to give this adventure a try and we paid a fee, made reservations and were startled to find that we were the only passengers on a large sailing catamaran (there were 2 young crewmen, one an American, the other an Englishman from Kenya). At the bay, it was feeding time and the rays were waiting which was an amazing experience for me (Laura would not go into the water) as the rays would swoop in, carefully taking a handheld morsel. They were of all sizes, rough on their backs but very smooth on the underside but we were warned not to touch their tails. By far, the most memorable event was seeing the Milky Way as that part of the island had few lights and the night sky was clear. I hadn't seen the Milky Way in years, probably not since childhood in Sioux City (in cities now there is too much background light and air pollution, recently I mentioned this to a Cincinnatian who replied, "Milky Way? What's that?") so it was truly an incredible sight. The island natives, although evangelical Christian, were a very superstitious lot and they feared "duppies", spirit entities who roamed the island at night, so if a strange noise came from outside in the dark it was likely a duppy. Before there were roads (in the not too distant past) folks traveled along the shore on bike trails (cemeteries were on the seashore - inland was valued for "plantations") so if one were biking alone at night and it seemed that suddenly there was an added weight on the back of the bike, the advice was "keep pedalling and don't look back," and usually the added load would be gone as one passed a cemetery. If, at twilight, one were down by the shore and saw an old woman in the distant bush, beckoning, the advice was "don't go". I decided I had to find a duppy, so late one night I went down to the shore (Earl warned me not to go near a settlement for if I were mistaken for a duppy I might get shot). It was totally dark, no light except for the moon and stars, no sound except for waves lapping against the rocks but there were no duppies about that night, at least none that I could see. Laura was taking some sort of aerobics class at the University, and the ladies of Laura's class now saw a chance for a truly momentous occasion as the class leader had a slight connection to Richard Simmons (Richard Simmons was a nationally televised exercise guru although I never heard of him). He was coming to Cincinnati for some sort of health event, and the aerobic group was to participate on stage, with Richard Simons, in an exercise routine. There was much excitement and anticipation with the event taking place downtown at the Convention Center. I was positioned, festooned with cameras and surrounded by eager females, at the edge of the stage, with instructions to record this event. Richard Simons appeared and after some preliminary banter, he proceeded to pull the few hapless males in the audience, including myself, up to the stage for some chitchat and an exercise routine, but the aerobics class, ready and waiting in the wings, was totally ignored. There was intense disbelief and disappointment. I was puzzled by the whole affair. That spring (1992) Timora was back, and she gave a cello recital at 346 so we invited a group of friends and music lovers - the Schilkes were here, as well as Uri and Yael Remea, Yehonatan and Henry Meyer (we knew Henry Meyer through Timora, although the LaSalle Quartet had recently disbanded, he was still active at CCM). Henry Meyer was a Holocaust survivor, born in Dresden, a child prodigy violinist, he played with a chamber orchestra in Berlin, and I mentioned to him that a colleague had once had a brief encounter with Albert Einstein at Princeton, and asked Henry if he had ever met Einstein. "Einstein?", he said, "Of course I knew Einstein. He was a terrible violinist.", and he told of an incident in Berlin during a rehearsal of the chamber group, of which Einstein was a member, where he lost his place and one of the other players remarked "Albert! Can't you count?". During Timora's visit we also went to Uri and Yael's home for an "Israeli" dinner. April: My cousin Margaret (Runge) Copeland died, the oldest daughter of Uncle Barney. I saw her last at the Ozark Cousins Reunion and remembered the winter evenings, 1950s, when Margaret and Ben, driving from Cedar Rapids to Alta, would pick me up in Ames, driving me nearly all the way to Sioux City. Dad would meet us and take me the few miles more to home. In May, we visited Karen and John Murdock in Westerville, and from there we went to Columbus to see "Ameriflora" (this was a National event, commemorating the 500th anniversary of the Christopher Columbus discovery, and one of the city parks was converted into a large floral garden which was beautiful and impressive, but a financial flop). At the Ameriflora exhibit there was a "Mechanical Man' performer who he tricked Laura into giving him a kiss. That evening we had dinner at the "German Village", a former German working class neighborhood south of downtown Columbus, which had become a restaurant/entertainment destination. Henry Meyer invited us for lunch on Ludlow in Clifton, and after his usual outrageous stories and jokes, he poured out a sad story. A very talented young Russian violinist, Anna Vaiman, had been offered a full artists diploma scholarship at CCM, but unfortunately, there were no funds to cover her room and board. "Okay, Henry," we said, "we get the message, we'll take her in". He said that would be wonderful, and she would be arriving in September. At AMK, after 25 years, employees were given an all-expense paid one week trip to Paris, and although they were one year late (it was actually my 26th year), I was allotted this benefit, probably one of the very last as the company was having financial problems. We decided that September would work best with our schedule and elected to extend the trip to 3 weeks - a week in Paris, plus a week each in Germany and England (AMK paid the roundtrip airfare for 2, plus the equivalent cost of a first-class hotel), so to stretch our dollars, we booked a room in a small hotel, "Hotel Grandes Ecoles" on the Left Bank (a good choice as it is one of the most highly rated small hotels in Paris). I spent a good part of the summer researching travel books and making phone calls for reservations at various hotels in Europe. There was another Runge Cousins Reunion, this one in Rapid City, South Dakota with my brother Ken was the host. I wanted to drive, but Laura couldn't get away from work so I left early on Thursday morning, July 16, 1992, and drove the whole distance to Sioux City, and then the next day to Rapid City, arriving at the designated motel reunion headquarters late Friday afternoon (Laura flew out on Saturday morning). It was a long drive but I occupied myself listening to German language tapes (preparation for the upcoming Europe trip). It was another enjoyable reunion, but much smaller than the grand affair at the 1990 Ozarks Reunion. Ken's large family was there (at this time Ken and his wife Kathy had separated), as were Bill and Dagmar Schilke, Dick and Diane Schilke, Paula Hasler, and Conrad (Conrad flew in from Kansas City so I picked him up and dropped him off at the Rapid City airport). One day a group of us drove north into a remote area of the Black Hills where Ken and a lady friend had brought property (Ken built the house, she paid for most of the materials, but by the time Ken finished the work the whole arrangement had collapsed), and then on to Deadwood, visiting a gambling casino where Kris (Ken's daughter) had recently worked. All of us did manage to get together on the last day for a picnic in a Rapid City park. On our return drive, we took a detour through the Badlands, then on to Sioux City where we visited Harold and Fae Hirsch, who still lived in same house on Lakeport Road, the last of my parents' close friends from Redeemer Church as all the rest had either died or had moved away. As we traveled east across Iowa we stopped in Charter Oak to see Irma Fiene and Agnes Schau, then on to Glidden for an overnight visit with Mark and Rhoda Schuler. Next it was on to Iowa City for a short stay with cousin Dick Runge and Brownie, and during that stay we drove out to the nearby Amana Colonies (founded in the 1840s by a German communal group) where we toured one of the last of their woolen mills and I saw a chance to practice my German with one of the older ladies who told me (in German) that sadly, few of the younger generation spoke German, although the high school had started teaching modern High German. For the last leg of our trip we drove straight east, around Chicago and up to Laura's home place in Michigan. It was a relaxing time; the huge garden was in full bloom and blueberries were in season (this was probably one of the last times we went picking at our favorite blueberry patch as shortly it succumbed to a housing development). We spent a good part of August getting ready for the European trip, so when Anna arrived in early September we had only a few days to get acquainted before we sent her to a temporary shelter, the home of Wayne and Toni Meyer, who had a large house on Senator Place, not far from 346, with a piano and 2 teenage daughters (Wayne was a former colleague at AMK and now had his own consulting business). In their younger married days, Wayne and Toni had driven through the Baltic States and Russia in what was then the "forbidding" Soviet Union. Early in the morning, September 7th, 1992, Laura and I left Cincinnati, bound for Orly Airport in Paris. In Paris, we did all the usual tourist things (we had six days) - climbed the Notre-Dame tower steps, walked the Champs-Elyées, viewed the city from Sacre-Coeur, etc. - what a marvelous and beautiful city, walkable by day or night, and with an amazing subway system. One day we took a train out to Versailles (I had to see if the station, Gare Saint-Lazare, had changed much from the Monet painting - it hadn't) and at the Versailles Chateau Park, which is vast, we saw a delightful little girl chasing a squirrel, holding out a morsel and calling "bon appétit". One evening we had a dinner/river boat cruise on the "Bateaux-Mouches", and on a Sunday morning went to a Lutheran Church (there were several in Paris) but to Laura's dismay the service at this church was in German, not French. Although we had lunch one day at "Les Deux Magots," we learned very quickly to eat at small neighborhood cafes and brasseries rather restaurants at popular tourist areas, and we also learned that at French laundromats the machines Paris in October, 1992 take tokens, not coins. On our first evening in Paris we walked up our street, Rue Cardinal Lemoine, to a memorable small square, Place de la Contrescarpe, lovingly described by Hemingway in one of his short stories (The Snows of Kiliminjaro). It is my favorite place in the city, and I go there, with Laura or alone, whenever we are in Paris. After a week we rented a small Italian made car and headed east on a main highway, stopping for lunch at Reims (where the Gothic cathedral is still undergoing repairs from WWI), and as we drove into Alsace I wanted to avoid going into Strasbourg to cross the Rhine, so I turned off the main highway with the intent of taking backroads to the bridge at Achern, north of Strasborug which was bad mistake as I discovered that on minor roads, the road signs listed the next village or town, and we had a small map which listed only larger towns or cities. I was lost, so we stopped at an Alsatian hamlet, Niederschaflosheim, where I saw an older couple working in their farmyard and asked directions "zu die Brucke nach Achern" but because of my limited German and their Alsatian dialect I had a problem understanding what they were telling me. Fortunately, their son just then arrived, and as he spoke English, told us we would have to go back to Haagunau and from there pick up the road to the bridge. It was getting dark and starting to rain, and once again I was lost, and as I was standing, looking at a sign post and holding our map, a car came by and stopped. I said "Brucke nach Achern", the driver gestured to follow and he led us directly to the bridge approach, and soon we were in Achern (never had a chance to thank this good Samaritan). Achern was just a few miles south of Bühl, our bed-and-breakfast, "Die Grüne Bettlad," a 17th- century inn, for which we had reservations (the place was beautifully furnished, but because of our late arrival we really didn't have a chance to enjoy it). We did discover that a German hotel breakfast ("Frühstück"), unlike the croissant, butter and jam typical in France, consisted of various breads, cheeses, sliced meats, jams, butter and boiled eggs, all in generous portions. After a too short stay we drove north, skirting Stuttgart, and a few miles east to Goppingen/Fauerndau/Eschenbach where my great-grandmother, Kathrina (Bezler) Dicke was born in 1834 (she wrote a memoir when she was 92 years old, describing the town in great detail) and we drove up to the church (Württemberg is the only Lutheran state in southern Germany) where there were 2 bronze plaques at the church entry - one, dated "1914-1918" had about a dozen names, the other, dated "1940-1945" had about 40 names. At the church cemetery (Friedhof) there was a man, probably in his 80's, and a younger woman (possibly his daughter) who spoke no English, although the woman knew a little. I asked them about the Bezler family, "Oh yes," the old man said, pointing with his cane at a newer grave "the last of the family, Bertha Bezler, was buried at that grave," (we found out later, that in most German cemeteries, after 50 years or so, old grave sites are recycled to make way for new graves), a very practical (and German) use of limited land space. I asked about "Zum Goldenen Lamm," the inn operated by Kathrina's grandfather and they said the old place had been torn down, replaced by a new apartment building, (the old man had to laugh at my German grammar, but the woman said "Well his German is better than your English"). I mentioned that part of the town, as Kathrina wrote in her memoir, was known as the "Tirol," possibly because of the nearby Schwabishce Alps - the woman said she never heard of that name, but the old man said, again pointing with his cane, "Oh yes, I remember, many years ago, that part of town was called the Tirol.". Once again we had to dash off, this time north to Bad Hersfeld, in Hesse (during the Revolutionary War, most of the British mercenary soldiers were Hessians, and many stayed in America after the war), where we had reservations in a 500-year-old inn, "Hotel Zum Stern" but again, after a quick breakfast, we had to be on the road, this time traveling east. We came to the border of what until recently had been "East Germany", and saw there was a huge complex of abandoned sheds where all vehicles traveling into the East were meticulously searched and delayed for hours, sometimes for days. The contrast from West to East was unbelievable. In West Germany, the houses were white with bright red tile roofs and carefully manicured yards, everything neat and orderly, but in East Germany, everything, the houses, walls and roofs were a dismal gray, forlorn and bleak villages with unkempt and overgrown yards. Occasionally we did see a small shop with a crude sign "Blumen" or "Bäckerei", the first indication that the old way of life was coming back. First stop was in Eisenach where we drove up a steep road, past tour buses and through crowds of tourists, to the Wartburg Castle, where in his 1521 exile, Martin Luther translated the complete Bible from Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek into German (creating the foundation for the modern High German language), then down into the town of Eisenach where we toured the small house where Johann Sebastian Bach lived as a boy. Back on the Autobahn (by this time most of these express highways had been restored by the West Germans) we drove further east, then north to Wittenburg where we tried to find the "Schlosskirche" and Martin Luther's door, but we didn't have a map and time was running short so we then drove north on a pleasant two-lane road to Berlin. Berlin is a huge, sprawling city with many districts, ring roads and incredible traffic (my first impression was that in Berlin there must be a million cars but only 900,000 parking places, so there is an endless stream of cars looking for a place to park). Late in the afternoon we found our hotel, a small walk-up hotel (Hotel-Pension Nürnberger Eck), on the second floor of an old building which somehow survived the war (nearly all of Berlin was destroyed by bombing raids and end of war street fighting so most of the city is either restorations or completely rebuilt). This hotel was recommended by Chris von Bohries because of its location and low price, and it was on Nürnburger Str., just a short walk to the Kurfürstendamm (Ku-Damm), the main up-scale shopping street in Berlin, the Tiergarten (zoo and park), the Gedächtniskirche (Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, only the tower of this huge church remains, the steeple sheared off by a bombing raid in 1943), and the Kaufhaus Des Westens (KaDeWe), supposedly the largest department store in Europe. One day we walked out to Charlottenburg to see the palace (the Prussian version of Versailles) and to the ägyptisches (Egyptian) Museum to see the bust of Nefertiti (this museum has now been moved to a restored building on the Museum Island). Berlin has an extensive public transportation network, buses, light rail (S-Bahn) and subways (U-Bahn), and at the stations there are no gates (strictly an honor system where one buys a ticket from a machine and gets on for a good Prussian wouldn't think of getting on without a ticket. Street parking is also by an honor system (during the day there is a two-hour limit) so one places a card ("Ankunftszeit Karte") in the car window with the arrival time indicated, and before the time limit has expired one was expected to leave the parking space (I asked the lady at the hotel desk if one couldn't change the indicated arrival time and stay longer, but she was shocked, saying "Oh! One would never do that"). After a few days, our Pension reservation ended so I had to find a different place which was at the "Hotelpension Schöneberg" in the Schöneberg district, a new hotel about a mile south of the Mitte District (city center). We went up to the Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate) where rows of tables were set up, selling East German paraphernalia of all sorts (uniforms, communist medals, etc.), to the "death strip" (most of one "Wall" had been removed in 1990) which then was a barren stretch of no man's land, and to the Reichstag, which was partially restored and occupied mostly by a history museum as the German parliament (Bundestag) had not yet moved permanently to Berlin from Bonn. We also went into East Berlin, saw the great cathedral (Berliner Dom, heavily damaged during war, restoration nearly complete), Nikolaikirche (oldest church in Berlin, 13th century, badly damaged but largely rebuilt), and the Museum Island (five museums, severe damage from bombing raids) where we went to the mostly restored Pergamon Museum to see the Pergamon Altar (170 B.C. Greek, now Western Turkey) and other Roman, Greek and Near-Eastern antiquities. We experienced a Berlin laundromat which was a large space with many washers and dryers, uniformed attendants, and a wall of lighted panels, one for each machine, where one would preselect water temperature, type of soap, bleach, etc., before loading the (correctly numbered) machine so it was like the control room of a space ship, quite a contrast from Paris. Eating in Berlin was another interesting experience as we always had a substantial breakfast at our hotel but had to find places to eat later in the day. There are American steak houses, numerous French and Italian restaurants, many East European establishments (we ate at a Croatian restaurant one evening) so I asked someone if there were any German restaurants and was told that there probably were in East Berlin, but was advised not to go there for a meal. At one Berlin place, I asked, in my very best German, for a beer, whereupon the waiter said (in English) "You want Miller or Miller Lite?". One day we decided to drive up to Selz in Vorpomern (the larger eastern part of Pomerania went to Poland in 1945) where my grandfather, Carl Runge, was born. Selz is about 80 miles north of Berlin, just off Highway 96, only 30 miles from the Ostsee (Baltic). In an industrial suburb, Oranienburg, on the north edge of Berlin, the highway was being completley rebuilt so there was a detour and once again I was lost. I pulled over to the side of road and as I was studying a map, a Trabi pulled up behind us (the Trabant, or "Trabi", was a miserable little East German car whose production ended with reunification) and a young woman came over and asked if we were lost. She was blond, pretty, but with bad teeth (east German dentistry) and spoke almost no English so I explained that we were looking for Highway 96 going north and she proceeded to give directions as follows: go to the first "Ampel," turn right, go to the next "Ampel," turn left, etc. but when I told her I wasn't certain what she meant by "Ampel", she said, in English, "Ampel, red, yellow, green" (a traffic light) so said yes I understand, and once again she repeated the detailed direction, but she sensed that I was still confused. Finally, she said in German to follow her, she would take us around the city to the highway and as I thanked her and said something positive about her city (the outskirts were certainly more pleasant than the inner city), she said "Nein, es ist hasslich" (its ugly). As we drove north the land changed with rolling hills, lakes and pine forests, much like the part of Wisconsin where the Runge's settled in the 1860's. We stopped first in Burow, the village where my great-grandmother, Friedrika (Bietz) Runge was born, and a local said he knew of no one with the name "Bietz", and that there was no church in Burow, but there was a church in Selz, a few miles to the west (he spoke no English as no one in this entire region spoke English for in school the children were forced to learn the hated Russian language, of which not one word was ever uttered). We drove on back roads to Selz (small North German towns were very different from those in South Germany with wider streets, low houses) where the church in Selz is on the west edge of the village. There were 3 men in black suits standing at the gate of the church yard and they looked at us in a very unfriendly manner, but when I said we were Americans and that we were visiting because my grandfather had been born in Selz, they immediately broke into smiles and shook hands (we found out later that East Germans who had fled to the West were coming back to claim their property, so our car with its French plates certainly appeared to be that of an emigré) - the large older man said he was an undertaker, and the other men were his assistants, that a girl had died and the funeral would be arriving shortly from town and that the funeral would be at the adjacent graveyard, but we certainly could go into the church. The church was dark and unkempt, obvious water damage and lighting by candles only, but definitely Lutheran with an altar in the front center, flanked by a pulpit on one side, a lectern on the other, an organ in a loft above the entry. When we came out, the funeral procession had arrived and it was like something from the 17th century with men in black hats and suits, women in long black dresses, the pastor (from a larger nearby town), robed, with a traditional split clerical collar and cap. Prayers were said at the open grave and then each person would pass by, dropping, flower petals from a basket into the grave. The undertaker must have mentioned that there were "Americans" in the church, as during the ceremony we were given many over-the-shoulder glances, and immediately after a group (mostly older women) rushed over to speak to us, saying no there was no longer anyone with the name of Runge or Bietz in the area, but one old women said, pointing to a newer grave, that she remembered that many years ago there was a Runge buried in that place. The undertaker told us that a tree had fallen on the church roof many years ago and the damage never repaired, and that "before Hitler's time" there was a Runge family who had a horse farm west of Selz. We drove a few miles west to Kriesow, just over the border into Mecklenburg, where my great-grandfather, Friederich Runge was born. At a small, newly opened shop, the lady said there were Runge's in Mecklenburg towns to the north, but by that time it was late in the afternoon, so we had to leave for the drive back to Berlin (we made no attempt to trace the Froehlich family roots as my father's family were from east of the Oder River, a part of Germany which no longer exists). We left Berlin early in the morning, driving west on the Autobahn (by this time I had become an experienced Autobahn driver so if one were in the left lane and saw, in the rear-view mirror, a car coming in the distance and flashing its lights, immediately get over to the right lane, as a BMW or Mercedes would soon come roaring by at a very high speed). A few hours west of Berlin the traffic came to a complete stop, apparently, some sort of accident as we could see helicopters coming and going in the distance ahead, so we sat for more than two hours (people got out of their cars to have roadside picnics or to play cards) when suddenly the traffic moved again but there was no trace of an accident (the Germans were very efficient in cleaning a site). We drove into Westfalen (a large state on the west edge of Germany) where I wanted to see the small town of Werther, the birthplace (1822) of my great-grandfather Peter Heinrich Dicke, but it was getting very late because of the long traffic delay, so we had to push on to our night's lodging, Schlosshotel Lembeck. This castle, converted to an inn, is in a 17th century, moated castle (it really was surrounded by a water filled moat), with large antique filled rooms and beautiful grounds. This part of Germany is in the lower Rhine bottom lands, totally flat, not far from the Dutch border. The next day we spent as much time as possible exploring Lembeck Castle and its surroundings, but had to move on to our next destination (by this time my German had improved to extent that I was comfortable using it). We crossed the Rhine, wide and meandering here, a few miles more to the Netherlands, crossing the border and leaving the "Fatherland." We drove across a short part of the Netherlands and through northern Belgium to Brugge. Brugge (Bruges in French) is in the Flemish speaking part of Belgium near the coast, a thriving commercial center in the 18th and 17th centuries until the harbor silted in where much of the city was abandoned, but some of the population, most of the old buildings and a thriving lacemaking industry remained so the city has a network of canals and many bridges (Brugge in Flemish means bridges, Brucke in German) and has become a major tourist destination. We had a room in a small hotel near the city center, explored the old town, took a canal boat ride, then rushed off to Calais (we were once again in France). In Calais, we first had to find the car rental return office, then got ourselves (and our luggage) to the boat deck and by late afternoon we said goodbye to the Continent and were on our way across the channel to Dover. We ferried across the channel, from Calais to Dover, by hydrofoil, a fast and smooth ride, where at Dover we had to go through customs (the U.K. was not part of the European Community) but with our American passports we had no problem. There was quite a commotion, however, involving a crowd of East Europeans, most of whom seemed to have some sort of temporary visas which were being closely inspected (after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Western Europe was flooded by East Europeans). We took a train to Victoria Station, near the center of London, we had reservations at the Jenkins Hotel, but it was late in the day and were in unfamiliar territory (although Laura had spent some time in London many years before) so we took one of the ubiquitous London taxis to our destination. The Jenkins was an older, very British, 4-story walk-up (no elevator and we were on the top floor) on the north edge of Bloomsbury, and where the breakfast was also very British - fried eggs, toast and jam. We did all the usual tourist things - Tower of London and the Crown Jewels, changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, St. Paul's Cathedral (we were in the crypt where I was admiring Christopher Wren's architectural model but it was late afternoon and it was announced that visiting hours had ended as Evensong was about to begin so having never experienced Anglican high church vespers we decided to stay and because there were only a few congregants we were seated in the choir, directly across the from the Cathedral boys' choir, and adjacent to the High Altar), and the British Museum (Elgin Marbles and Rosetta Stone where I was astonished that this priceless artifact was openly displayed with no protective barrier). One evening we took the Underground (London Subway system) to St. Martin-in-the-Fields on Trafalgar Square to hear a German chamber orchestra (the conductor, whose English was limited, when explaining a flute passage, meant to say "songbirds" - he said "chickens"). We experienced a London laundromat: not high tech like Berlin but more modern than Paris, probably similar to its American cousins. At the airport ticket counter, we presented our tickets which had us going to Atlanta, with a layover, then changing planes for the final leg to Cincinnati, but the man at the ticket counter said he could put us on a flight directly to Cincinnati and that it would be boarding shortly, so this considerate gentleman saved us many hours of travel time, and by the afternoon of September 28, 1992, we were back home. The Brandts picked us up at the airport, and Kittycat was overjoyed to see us again (Bernice, our neighbor had come over every few days to give her food, water, and companionship), even acknowledging the presence of Laura. We next had to bring Anna back to her permanent "home". Wayne Meyer was a gracious temporary host, even took her to the giant Labor Day fireworks event on the Riverfront (this puzzled Anna as she asked "Is Labor Day like the 4th of July?", actually, I do not understand why Cincinnati has this firework display on Labor Day, apparently, a local tradition). Anna's violin: Anna brought with her a priceless Italian violin, same period as the Stradivarius instruments; Anna's father, Mikial Vaiman, who died when Anna was only 8 years old, was a world renowned violinist (he played in Carnegie Hall, accompanied by Anna's mother, Alla Jacova) and during one of his concerts in St. Petersburg (then Leningrad) he was approached by an old lady who had been from an aristocratic family in czarist times, saying that she had kept (secretly) a violin which had been in her family and asked him if he would want to play it. It was a beautiful instrument and he played it from then on and after a few years, when the lady was very old, he asked her what would become of this violin - "you keep it" she answered. Anna was able to get the violin into the U.S. passing it as a student violin of no particular value (it would have been considered a national treasure by the Soviet Government). Anna settled in nicely (Timora's room on the second floor) and was doing quite well at CCM. Starting another tradition: In October Laura began singing in the Martin Luther King Coalition Choral, a volunteer singing group which would perform every year in Music Hall on Martin Luther King Day. I would drive Laura to rehearsals, sitting in the back, reading until it was over, and one evening, the director, Kathy Roma, came back and asked me if I had ever sung in a choir, so when I said yes, baritone, many years ago in a church choir, she said they needed more baritones and she expected me to be at the next rehearsal. We did a trip to Michigan in October (Laura's parents hadn't left for Florida yet) but because Anna was now with us we decided to have a big Thanksgiving meal at 346 (Anna's first Thanksgiving in America), so the Brandt's were here (Chuck did the turkey carving), as well as Else Tasseron and a friend of Anna's from CCM, Natalie Mamleew. Natalie, a serious violin student, was from Germany, a pretty young woman, a bit eccentric at times, she spoke English with a very British accent (having lived in London for a time) and also knew French, but she was not German, saying "The Germans will never accept me, as I do not look like a real German". Natalie did have a fascinating family history, as her grandmother (on her father's side) was a Ukranian living in Leningrad, who attracted the eye of a Red Army hero, a Tatar, who, because of his status, when he demanded her as a wife, she had to comply and they had a son (Natalie's father) and during the German invasion (1941-1944) her grandmother worked for the Germans as an interpreter, so when the German army retreated from Russia, Natalie's grandmother left also, taking her son, who then grew up in Germany where he met and married Natalie's mother, Dagmar, who was of Austrian and Croatian descent. Natalie had an older sister, an aspiring opera singer (who was very eccentric). Because she was Anna's "best friend," Natalie was often at our house. Anna returned to Russia for the Christmas break at CCM. We had the usual Christmas Eve gathering at 346, mostly friends from Prince of Peace and I continued as Church Treasurer, but it was not as hectic as when Joel Hempel had the ICCPE program. Susan Cacini kept the preschool going until June, when, after more than 20 years, it was decided to end that program. The Church janitor, Harvey Smith, was a problem as I had to do the paperwork to garnish part of his salary to the County for child support (several women and many children eventually appeared, so Harvey had virtually no income - which was probably appropriate as Harvey did almost no work). That summer Pastor Glenn Lucas took a number of young people to New Orleans for a Lutheran Youth Gathering. Because the number of older, longtime members was fading away and because we knew the Ohio District subsidy would not go on forever, Prince of Peace decided to hire a full-time fundraiser, her name was Rene Scar, and seemed to be an ideal choice, African American, apparently experienced in fundraising, and married to an inactive (white) Lutheran pastor. She started in December, but very soon became a problem, as she was domineering and demanding, greatly vexed Jan Michelson, the Church secretary, and stressed Pastor Lucas, and most disappointing, seemed to make no effort in writing grant proposals or performing other fund raising activities, so after 3 months she was fired, and she immediately sued the Church for racial discrimination, which resulted in a long and costly legal battle. After Christmas, Carmen and Amanda were here for an "overnight" during which we went to the Cincinnati Zoo Festival of Lights, including some time at the ice skating rink, and this proved to be quite an experience as neither of the girls had ever been on ice skates. 1993 was probably not as rushed as the previous year but it certainly was eventful (another series of happenings over which I seemed to have little control). Anna returned from Christmas break with the announcement that she had married, saying his name was Gleb Drosdov, who had some sort of musical background, and was studying violin making at this time. Natalie went back to Germany over Christmas and took a vacation trip into the Austrian Alps with her mother. Laura and I sang for the first time in Music Hall (the first of many times) with the Martin Luther King Coalition Choral on Martin Luther King Day (January 18), which was quite exciting to be on the stage of this great hall. On March 4, 1993, we left for the 5th Runge Cousins Reunion in Yuma, Arizona (the first "unofficial" reunion took place in Yuma in 1988). We flew first to Phoenix then traveled to Yuma with Paula and Don Hassler in their motor home, where the reunion headquarters was at the home of Dick and Diane Schilke. There was a large group (6 cousins, everyone from the Ozarks reunion except my brother Ken, the St. Louis folks and Margaret) plus Conrad came all the way from Chanute, Bill Schilke's youngest daughter, JoAnn, flew in from L.A. with her fiance, Ken Lehmer, and Phyl and Glen Nicholson (from Tucson) brought Ben Copeland who was visiting from Texas. There was much time for conversation and generous quantities of food thanks to Dick and Diane, and several of Diane's friends. We took a tour of the old Territorial Prison and to an overlook to see a rare event - water in the Colorado River (there had been heavy rains, also rare, in central Arizona). A group of us went to nearby Algodones, Mexico, where, at a quiet outdoor café, Ben told us about Margaret's final days and after the reunion, we drove back to Phoenix in the motor home, this time with Cousin Tina along (more time for recollections of old days in Iowa). Back in Cincinnati we had the monthly Keyboard Club meeting at our house, Anna had several "gigs" and recitals around the city, including at the wedding Pam Melton's daughter (Pam, a longtime friend of Laura's from 4C), and in May we were in Michigan for Jamie's confirmation at Faith Lutheran Church; in mid-July, we went to Chicago (Ravinia) with Bill and Dagmar Schilke to connect with Timora (see my Chicago memoir) and Anna returned to St. Petersburg for the summer. At this time, Conrad was supervising the renovation of the old Chanute passenger station into a new space for his museum. (Conrad and Becky had separated as Becky had chosen a career path which did not include Chanute, Kansas). In June, the Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum opened in the renovated Santa Fe passenger station. The original (long abandoned) station was a large building, with more space than needed by the museum, so half the building (and probably half the renovation cost) became the Chanute Public Library. The new museum had professionally designed exhibits, a small theater, a library (for an extensive book collection) an art gallery, a gift shop, and staff offices. It was truly a magnificent small museum and Conrad did a fine job in putting it all together. Caroline continued working for Warner Brothers in L.A. Later in July Laura was spending more time in Michigan as her father's health was failing (a second hip replacement was not successful with chronic infection and his one functioning kidney was beginning to fail). On a Friday evening after work I drove alone to Michigan (Laura had been there that week) but shortly before I arrived a major storm came through and with fallen trees blocked roads and power lines down, I had to take several detours. It was very late when I finally made it to the house on Cedar Island Road - power was out in the whole area, but volunteer fireman had set up an emergency generator which had just enough power for the refrigerator and freezer, and an air conditioning unit, and had to be replenished with fuel every few hours so that became my job (Dave and Sue, who lived in an adjacent home, were gone, for the weekend). It was a harrowing time, and so exhausted Laura's mother that she had to be hospitalized for several days. Laura's father, Kenneth E. Goodell, died on July 23, 1993, at home, in his bedroom of more than 50 years, which looked out over his garden and fields. We were Michigan again for the funeral. Our friends, Chuck and Chyrl Brandt, had taken up river rafting and in August decided to try the New River in West Virginia and they invited us to join them. I had gone rafting on the New River some 10 years before with the "Pavilion gang" but Laura had never been rafting and was a reluctant participant and there are a few things that I remember from this rafting adventure: there is virtually no level ground in Charleston, WV, we stayed in a motel near Beckley (no tent camping) and were bused to the raft launching site, the New River Gorge was as beautiful and spectacular as I remembered, and there were 3 rafts in our group plus a kayak at the rear to pick up seafarers who went overboard. Our raft guide was an earnest young fellow, but one of the other guides was a wild man, whose name was "Bobo" and he wore a Nazi helmet (the guides had a contest to see who would be thrown the highest at a major bump in one of the rapids and Bobo was the winner, but unfortunately by the time he came down the raft had shot ahead). The day ended with an outdoor cookout washed down with ample beer; on the trip back to Cincinnati, we spent a few hours in Point Pleasant, WV, a small city on the Ohio River, site of a 1774 battle between Indians and white settlers who were swarming into the area (the Indians, led by Chief Cornstalk, were defeated). Anna had gone back to St. Petersburg for the summer, leaving her violin but I was concerned as this violin was much more valuable than our house, with the exception a window unit in our bedroom, the house was not air-conditioned (Cincinnati summers can be hot and humid), and also, we would be out of town several times during the summer. There was a violin shop near Music Hall, the Bass Viol Shop, which had a climate controlled storage vault so I took the violin there and asked the owner if he would store it over the summer but he took one look at this violin and said there was no way that he wanted to be responsible for such a valuable instrument. He reluctantly agreed after I signed a waiver taking full responsibility. Irony: a few weeks after I picked up the violin in September (much to the relief of the shop owner), there was a fire at the shop and many violins stored there were damaged or destroyed. September 20, Anna was back in Cincinnati with new husband, Gleb, in tow and an announcement that she was expecting early in 1994; we put them up in the front bedroom on the 3rd floor (it is larger and had twin beds). Anna was immediately back at CCM and Gleb set up a violin shop in the basement. After 11 years, I was finally able to pass on my job as treasurer of Prince of Peace Lutheran Church. Timora's parents, Yorum and Rina Rosler, invited us to visit them in Jerusalem, an opportunity we couldn't pass up and at that time Delta had a direct from Cincinnati to Zurich, Switzerland (Zurich is the financial capital of Switzerland). We left on the evening of September 24, but had a long layover in Zurich because September 25 was Yom Kippur and the Tel Aviv (Lod) airport was closed until after sunset. The layover in Zurich was an interesting experience, for as we were changing from Delta to El Al, we were bused to a far edge of the airport where there was a small El Al terminal surrounded by Swiss soldiers with automatic rifles and where we were interviewed extensively and our luggage carefully inspected before we could board. Yorum picked us up at the Tel Aviv airport and drove us up on a winding road to Jerusalem where the Roslers lived in an apartment building on a quiet street in West Jerusalem and where Timora's younger brother, Nimrod, was still living at home. They were gracious hosts, taking us throughout the Old City and beyond and as the Old City was an easy bus ride from West Jerusalem, on our first days we saw the Western Wall (Wailing Wall), Dome of the Rock (with its golden dome, the dominant symbol of Jerusalem, built over the bare rock which might have been the site of Solomon's temple, and which the Muslims believe was where Muhammad, after his night ride on his magic horse, sprang into heaven to meet Abraham, Moses and Jesus, who proclaimed him the true prophet of God - a hoof print of Mohammad's horse is supposedly visible), El-Asqsa Mosque (Yurum was not allowed to enter as he was carrying a Bible, and also, Orthodox Jews do not go up to the Temple Mount for fear they might set foot on the Holy-of-Holies), the "Upper Room" (a Crusader structure), the great Armenian Cathedral (Armenia was the very first Christian nation), the Church of the Holy Sepulchre with its many chapels for rival Christian sects (a small bit of bare rock, supposedly the original Golgotha, and "Christ's Tomb", a rebuilt structure over the site of the original tomb which was totally destroyed by Muslims in the 9th century. Yurum took us to a far perimeter of the Church where there were a few rock cut tombs still remaining after early Christians had removed most of the hill so that the designated "Tomb of Christ" would be above ground and this particular tomb was chosen by Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine). The Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, which is nearly adjacent to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (this church, which has the highest tower in the Old City, was built by Kaiser Wilhelm in 1898) so Laura and I decided to climb to the top of this tower for the view (we had to climb past the church bells to the platform above the bells) and the view was indeed magnificent, but as we lingered we failed to notice that everyone else had departed and that it was noon, with the floor begining to creak and then vibrated as the bells began their thunderous noon peal. The sound was deafening - we were trapped until the final chime had sounded. Jaffa Gate, the only entrance through the Old City wall large enough for a bus, was cut into the wall to allow the Kaiser to ride in on horseback, followed by the Kaiserin in her carriage. Just east of the Old City wall we visited the Garden of Gethsemane and the Mount of Olives (slope of the Mount which faces Jerusalem is covered with a Jewish cemetery, as those buried here will see Jerusalem on the day of resurrection). The Roslers took us to New (West) Jerusalem where we visited the Knesset (Israeli Parliament, tapestries by Chagall), the Israeli Museum (which included the "Shrine of the Book", a circular structure which houses the Dead Sea Scrolls) and Yad Vashem (Holocaust museums and monuments, including the Oskar Schindler plaque). They even drove us west to Ein Kerem, traditional birthplace of John the Baptist and Virgin Mary's visit to Elizabeth (Church of the Visitation). On our own, Laura and I took a bus tour east of the city down to Masada and the Dead Sea (fascinating to see the ramp and camps from the 73 A.D. Roman siege of Masada, still intact, preserved in the waterless desert), which included a drive-by of the Qumram caves (Dead Sea Scrolls) and a dip in the Dead Sea at Ein Gedi (water wings not required). Yorum very much wanted us to see the kibbutz where he lived in his younger days which was in the far north of Israel, and to avoid the West Bank, we drove along the coast to Akko (Acre) and inland from there. Acre was the last Crusader stronghold in the Holy Land, falling to Muslims in 1291, and we explored Crusader ruins and the old city walls, and ate at a seaside fish restaurant, Abu Christie, operated by a Christian Arab family (Yorum insisted on selecting the fish, from the Sea of Galilee). As we drove inland we stopped at a high point from where one could see both the Mediterranean and the Sea of Galilee. At the Kibbutz Yorum greeted several friends (now middle-aged or older and he was startled that one female friend from commune days had become religious), we stayed overnight at the guest house and ate in a common dining hall, but much of the old kibbutz had changed. There was still some agricultural activity but the primary business was a factory, most of whose workers were local Arab women. The husband of Yorum's friend worked as an auto mechanic in a nearby town and these changes distressed Yorum. We drove up to the Golan Heights and down to the Sea of Galilee and this is where things got interesting as Yorum's car (a small French car) started having a serious mechanical problem (something to do with the hydraulic system). Yorum found a garage where the mechanic did a temporary repair with a warning that the car could not be driven a long distance so Yorum was certain that the circuitous route around the West Bank would be too risky. He asked me if I would mind if we drove directly back to Jerusalem through the West Bank and since my response wasn't negative, in the late afternoon we crossed the Green Line into the West Bank (soldiers guarding the checkpoint expressed concern). After a few miles Yoram came to a sudden halt- there was a young Israeli soldier hitchhiking - "When driving in this area", Yoram said, "it's always good to have a soldier in the car". The soldier, probably about 18 years old and with a large automatic rifle, climbed into the backseat next to Laura - "In this car, "Yorum said, "we speak only English" whereupon the soldier said he couldn't speak English. Yorum was outraged, "This dummy can't speak English," and he went into a tirade about the quality of education in Israeli schools as we sped through the night on a narrow, winding road. In Jericho Yorum took a wrong turn (I noted that the road sign pointed to Ramallah) and in a panic, he made a hasty U-turn so when we reached the Jerusalem checkpoint the young soldier exited the car, much relieved I'm sure. We spent a few more days in Jerusalem where it was during the time of the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkot) so many homes had temporary canopies under which people celebrated late into the night. We walked more of the Old City, including the Via Dolorosa, the traditional path of Christ from the Pontius Pilate trial to Calvary (most of which is actually a Roman road that did not exist at the time of Christ). Yorum wanted to show us his old neighborhood, forgetting that it was Saturday, and driving into the area we were turned back by groups of angry Jews shouting "Shabat! Shabat!", whereupon Yorum said the neighborhood had been taken over by Orthodox Jews who were opposed to driving on the Sabbath. On our last Sunday, we decided to go to the Lutheran church in the Old City, to what we thought was the scheduled English language service and we were running late but as we approached the church we could hear the traditional Lutheran liturgy being sung and as we entered and sat in a pew, we discovered that it was an Arabic service. In what I thought could be at truly momentous experience, we decided to take Holy Communion, which would be in Jerusalem and in Arabic, a language related to the Aramaic spoken at the time of Christ but when he came to us, however, the pastor switched to English (how did he know that we were Americans?). At the end of the service, Germans came pouring in, so we never figured out what happened to the English language service. We left Israel on Monday, October 4th, with a stopover in Paris, which we extended to 5 days (one does not make a short stopover in Paris). Because we did not make Paris reservations weeks in advance, we had to find a hotel on short notice, which happened to be a fortunate choice, as it was the Hotel Sorbonne, a small hotel immediately across from the Sorbonne and just around the corner from the square facing the University, the Place de la Sorbonne. We were on the top floor (5th, no elevator) but could look directly down into the Sorbonne classrooms and across rooftops to the dome of the Pantheon. The hotel had a small lobby, usually occupied by the owner's mother and her small dog and she warmly greeted all who came in, the location was ideal - in the heart of the Latin Quarter, a short walk to the Luxembourg Gardens, the Pantheon and my favorite little square Place de la Contrescarpe. On one of my evening strolls, probably returning from some grocery shopping, I was stopped by a young couple who asked me, in terrible French, if the nearby Pantheon was Notre Dame (the Pantheon, a domed classical building was built as a church in the late 1700s by Louis XVI, - the unlucky King who lost his head in the Revolution) but these people were actually from Denmark and spoke very good English so I was able to point them in the right direction. Paris is a walkable city, day and night, and one evening we went to a concert in Sainte-Chapelle, a magnificent stained glass chapel built by Louis IX (St. Louis) to house the Crown of Thorns and pieces of the True Cross, which he purchased from the Emperor of Constantinople, at a cost much greater than the cost of the chapel (the relics were destroyed in the Revolution). The most memorable part of this stay, for me, was the long subway ride to Saint-Denis, at the far northern edge of Paris, where the ancient basilica houses the tombs of French kings and queens going all the way back to Clovis (Hludowig) the first Frankish king. During the Revolution, the tombs were smashed open, bones scattered about the grounds and ancient crown jewels melted down for the gold and later the bones were collected and heaped into large crypts under the church (Laura thought it was all very spooky). Of interest were some of the 16th century tombs with lower effigies in royal attire, effigies above completely naked (Catherine de Medici in the buff). One day we went up to the huge Pompidou Center, where, at a lunch counter, Laura was dismayed that she couldn't remember the French word for juice and overhearing this, the counterman leaned out and said "jus". Back in the land of English speakers (or the Cincinnati version of English), we returned to our jobs and the usual routines. Kittycat was delighted to see us, although Anna had taken very good care of her. Anna worked unceasingly with her violin at CCM but her shoulder began to bother her and she went University Hospital for rehab which Henry Meyer thought was nonsense as "In my day," he said "we played through the pain". That fall he invited Anna, Gleb, Laura and me to his place, one of the elegant old houses on historic Riverside Drive, on the Ohio River, in Covington. That fall Laura and I also resumed rehearsals with the Martin Luther King Chorale. Anna played a violin concerto in November with the Northern Kentucky Symphony (now the Kentucky Symphony) with the the Schilkes and Natalie joined us in the audience. On a Sunday afternoon in early December the Keyboard Club met at our house where Laura played in a two-piano piece. Christmas 1993: Pre-Christmas brunch at the Mellots, fruitcake and cookie baking, many cards to be written and sent, and the traditional Christmas Eve gathering at 346 with the Brandts, Towes, Else Tasseron, Anna and Gleb, although the group getting smaller as the years passed. Dinner after Christmas at Else Tasseron's apartment where Laura and I were there along with Trish and Dave Rahner and much of Else's fine needlework was on display. On December 11, 1993, Aunt Lydia Runge Nicolaus died in Wisconsin. She was 101 years old, the last of my mother's siblings, and the last of that generation of the Runge family. Winter of 1994 was unusually cold in Cincinnati (24 degrees below zero on January 19), and more snow than usual; Laura and I sang again with the Chorale at Music Hall on MLK day (Anna and Gleb sat through the program, probably just to see what it was all about) and afterwards we drove home through the snow up the long Ravine Street hill. On January 19, in the evening, Mary Lynn Bukey (Laura's friend from 4C) had a baby shower at her home for Anna with many ladies at the party, including Else Tasseron, Chryl Brandt, Becky Pittenger (from Keyboard) and Natalie. (Gleb and I were the lone males.) On January 30, 1994 the big event happened when Michael (Misha) was born at Good Samaritan Hospital a few blocks from our house, and in a few days Anna and baby Misha were home at 346. My old friend from Sioux City, Philip Otten, and his new wife Joanne, came for a visit in February 1995 (his first wife, Joyce, had died). Philip had retired and was then living in Grand Rapids, Michigan but it was the last time I saw Philip as he died some years later, 1999, I think so another link to the Sioux City past faded away. In March, the husband of my cousin Eleanor, Norm Holle died (cancer) unexpectedly for he wasn't that old. Norm was a country boy from Illinois who came to the city to make his fortune and the Holle home in Dellwood became the social center of the St. Louis Runge clan. I went to St. Louris with Bill and Dagmar Schilke for the funeral. Late in March we did our annual 10K Heartwalk and I took Anna and Gleb to Chicago for an immigration status upgrade (see Chicago stories). My longtime dentist, Dr. Barton Fogel, had injured his hand, so he took on a temporary partner, Dr. Frederic Arnold, to help him during this period. Anna and Gleb were complaining about dental problems so I asked Dr. Arnold if he had ever had a Russian patient, whereupon he threw up his hands "Oh my God! Not more Russians! Russian dental work is a disaster!", but he said O.K., bring them in (In Russia, dental work was free, and worth every cent). The corrective work for Anna was not complex, but for Gleb it was another matter and after a preliminary exam and X-rays, Gleb and I were sitting in the waiting room when Drs. Fogel and Arnold peeked around the corner, and beckoning, said C'mere Gleb" and I didn't see Gleb for quite sometime as he had a badly abscessed tooth (it had to be pulled) and an infected gum, which if not treated immediately, could have been fatal. Dr. Arnold never charged for this work. New York City, 1994: I had been to New York many times (all work related), but except for a brief "honeymoon" stay with Marie, had never been there as a tourist. Timora had several cello activities scheduled in New York and wanted us to meet her there but hotel rooms are costly on Manhattan so Laura and I found a bed-and-breakfast in a residential area on West 55th, in a place that was the small apartment of a young woman (her name was Gail Gondek) who needed to supplement her meager income as a dressmaker. We did all the New York City things that we could squeeze into a few days (April 29-May 2) - Central Park, Rockefeller Center, Radio City, Bryant Park, a concert at Lincoln Center, and the Metropolitan Museum but Timora wanted to see the Museum of Modern Art (ticket prices were not so outrageous then). She had a rehearsal on the Upper West Side (we had lunch at Au Petit Beurre, Broadway and 105th), and on the Upper East side Timora had an evening recital at the Hotel Wales where we had a post concert celebration (Christian was there with us) at Busby's, Madison and 92nd. Early in June we were in Michigan at the 50th wedding anniversary party for Pat and Earl Smith (Pat was an Australian "war bride", Earl was in the Army Air Corps, stationed in Australia) and on June 9 Laura and I celebrated our 10th anniversary in Cincinnati. The following weekend we were back in Westerville, Ohio, for another high school graduation party, this time for Michelle Murdock. Conrad was in Cincinnati the next week and we had a picnic at the Zoo with Anna, Gleb, baby Misha, Natalie and Conrad. On June 24, we were off to St. Louis for another Runge Cousin's Reunion, this one thoroughly planned and organized by Richard Runge, Clem's oldest son; the St. Louis Runge's were well represented including cousins Clem, Eleanor and Carl, as well as many descendants from the next two generations. My brother Ken was there with his new wife Ann, cousins Bill Schilke and wife Dagmar, Dick Schilke and wife Diane, Paula Hassler and husband Don, and Conrad. Carl's daughter Carla was there which brought back a memory that I hadn't seen her since she was a little girl, on a visit to Sioux City many years ago. Friday night we were treated to an outdoor barbecue, prepared by Dave Runge, (a professional chef) Clem's youngest son and on Saturday we helped inaugurate the new St. Louis light rail system with trips to the Arch (beer pause with cousin Clem), renovated Union Station (photo-op with the whole reunion group) and various museums. We went to an outdoor theater performance Saturday night (Muny in Forest Park) and did more sightseeing on Sunday. It was a very busy weekend. After the reunion, we drove west to Chanute (a very long drive from St. Louis to Southeast Kansas), with a stop at Ft. Scott, Kansas, an 1800s cavalry outpost, built to protect the then western frontier, now a historic site, with the buildings carefully restored (the only casualty in the Fort's long history was a cavalry officer who accidentally shot himself when dismounting from his horse). In Chanute, we visited the Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum in its new location (the old Santa Fe railroad depot) with professionally designed galleries and displays, a theater, library, gift shop and even a private office for Conrad which was all quite new, having been dedicated in September of 1983. My brother Ken, and Ann, stopped by on their return drive to Rapid City. We stayed at the Tioga Hotel, only a block south of the Museum (at six stories, Tioga is the tallest building in Chanute, once busy with travelers when Chanute was a bustling railroad center, now mostly for long term elderly residents). On this trip to Chanute we met Miss Judy Powers for the first time where she was working as a clerk at the Neosha County District Court in Chanute (the County Seat is actually in nearby Erie, but Chanute is a much larger, and more active center). After Chanute, we headed north for the long drive to Western Iowa, with a quick visit to Irma Fiene in Charter Oak, a stop at Hanover Church, then on to Glidden to see Rhoda and Mark Schuler, and finally (by then it was July 1) to Iowa City for a visit with cousin Richard Runge and Brownie (Miriam). We took a nostalgia drive around the Iowa University campus, I saw a new research building designed by Frank Gehry. Back in Cincinnati it was the start of a very busy summer when on July 13, Yorum Rosler, Timora's father, arrived by bus from New York. Yorum, intense, inquisitive and restless, wanted to see Cincinnati and also had a meeting arrangement about possible employment. During a layover at the Columbus, Ohio bus depot he encountered a group of Amish people - "They looked like Hasidim," (the men had beards) "they dressed like Hasidim," (women in long dresses and covered heads, men in dark suits and broad-brimmed black hats) "they talked like Hasidim," (the Schwab dialect of the Amish is a cousin of Yiddish, an old German dialect spoken by the Jews in Central Europe, the Hasidim refuse to speak Hebrew) "but they weren't Jews! Who were those people?". I explained to Yorum that the Amish were a pietist sect from Alsace and the Upper Rhine who had come to America in the early 1880's. On that same day, Alla Jochova, Anna's mother, arrived by air from St. Petersburg, so the house was fully occupied. As Yorum's employment possibility did not materialize, I took him around the city and we visited various museums, and on his last day he said he would really like to see more of "those people" (the Amish), so we drove east to Brown County where there are several Amish settlements and at an Amish store (baked goods, jam and wooden furniture) we were given a map showing various Amish Farms, but were told that everyone would be at a particular farm where a new barn was being built so Yorum, of course, said that is where he wanted to go. At the designated farm, we arrived just at the end of the mid-day meal and all the men (probably 30 or 40) were sitting on a fence along the road so Yorum immediately wanted to stop a take photos. I said absolutely not, as the Amish do not want to be photographed, but I could see that up the road, under the shade of trees, the horses and buggies were parked (the Amish travel only by horse-and-buggy) so I told Yorum if we drove up there, some Amish men were certain to make an appearance. And indeed, after a short time, an older man and two younger men, speaking their German dialect, came up the road to see what we were about. I told the older man that we had come to admire the horses (they were beautiful animals) and that my friend, Yorum, was visiting from Jerusalem, whereupon the old man answered solemnly "We are all from Jerusalem", at which Yorum exclaimed "You're from Jerusalem?", but after a moment he said "Oh, I think I understand." Yorum and the old man (who spoke very good English) then had a long discussion on philosophy and Amish religious beliefs. I'm not sure what Alla thought of her 3 week stay in Cincinnati as she lived in St. Petersburg, a world-class city, and had traveled in Europe (as a pianist she had accompanied her late husband, Mikial Vaiman, when he played at Carnegie Hall), but we gave her tour of the city, saw an opera at Music Hall and a performance at the Playhouse, Yorum entertained her during his stay and Conrad and Judy stopped in for a time, but her focus, of course, was to see Misha, her new grandson. Among the more memorable events of Alla's stay had to be the "Night of the Possum" (there is a wooded area down the hill to the south of 346 and a large wooded park, Burnett Woods, not far to the east, so we often had nocturnal visits from opossum who would lurch through our yard). One evening, as Anna and Alla were sitting in our backyard picnic chairs, they saw (and were frightened by) a gray very ugly animal, the size of a small dog, moving slowly by but I assured them that it was probably an opossum, a harmless scavenger, feeding mostly on food scraps, worms and insects, and quite shy of humans and the following night, another encounter, only this time the possum shuffled directly over to the chair where Alla was sitting and put his front paws (possum have long claws for digging) on the arm of the chair. Anna and Alla came screaming into the house. In September, there was a major change for Laura as she left 4C, began working for the University of Cincinnati, the Arlett Center for Early Childhood Education and Laura was at Arlett for 5 years (she kept in touch with her good friends from 4C). We made our usual trips to Michigan over the summer and fall, and Anna was back at CCM, studying directly under Kurt Sassmannshaus, the head of the violin department, and with Henry Meyer always keeping watch. Natalie, a lesser violin luminary at CCM, was a frequent presence at 346. I finally decided that something had to be done with the front door so I stripped the many layers of old paint, taking care not to disturb the leaded cut glass, refinished the wood and replaced the very inappropriate aluminum outer door with a new fully lighted wood storm/screen door. Laura and I were both working full time, Gleb was working at a violin shop in a northern suburb, and Anna was at CCM most days, so someone had to be at the house with Misha. Gleb's mother, Bella, came to the rescue. Bella was a high school English teacher in Russia, so language was not a problem and she spent much of the fall and early winter taking Misha on long rides throughout Clifton in a baby stroller. One evening Gleb said "I think I go to store" wherupon his mother, whose English was very correct said "No! you should say 'I think I shall go to the store'". Many of our fall and early winter activities by now had become routine including rehearsals with the Martin Luther King Chorale, pumpkin painting for Halloween, Keyboard Club at our house, getting fresh apples in Michigan, the Christmas brunch with the "Pavillion Gang" at the Mellott's, and our Christmas Eve party (the Prince of Peace group diminishing in number, but Anna and Gleb filled in). We had a quiet New Year's Eve dinner ending a very busy 1994. 1995 was the start of another adventurous year, or at least because it was much different than the year before, it seemed adventurous. The first two weeks of January I was in Chicago (a project for AMK) and after that it was generally normal activity. We sang with the chorus on Martin Luther King Day in Music Hall, had a big birthday party for Misha (1 year old), and this was the year that we started going to Cincinnati Symphony concerts on a regular basis as AMK had good balcony seats (the office had 2 tickets for the entire season, which could be purchased, at a discount, by employees), and we discovered that Curt Wilhelm (recently retired AMK structural engineer) and his wife Ginny were concert regulars, with full season tickets, so we would meet with them and a number of their friends during intermission. We had regular Sunday dinners with Anna, Gleb and Misha, and usually Natalie (Natalie had a room in an old house on the upper end of Ravine Street) and I got Natalie to model, with her violin, at a Thursday night Art Club session. In March Laura flew to Florida for several days to visit her mother, and at the end of the month we did our usual 10K Heartwalk. Easter dinner at 346 included "honeybaked ham", with Chuck and Chyrl here, along with Anna, Gleb and Misha and, of course, Natalie (Anna and Gleb still lived on the third floor; Gleb found a job at a violin shop in a northern suburb and he bought a very cheap used car - he came home late one afternoon reporting that a wheel came off his car on the Norwood lateral (a freeway extension connecting I75 and I71) - he abandoned the car and walked home - I drove him immediately to the accident scene but the car was gone - it had been towed to the police impounding lot - we went down to the lot the next day, paid the fine and left the car to be junked - Gleb had to commute by city bus; Anna finished her Artist Diploma work at CCM, but was not able to find permanent employment because of her student visa limitations - she was offered a job with the Marinsky Orchestra in St. Petersburg, and so in June, she and Misha left Cincinnati, to be followed by Gleb in July. At the invitation of Anna's mother, Alla Jachova, we had been planning a trip to St. Petersburg for several months (getting clearance and visas for travel to Russia had taken several months). We left Cincinnati on June 17, flying Delta to Frankfurt, and then on to St. Petersburg via Lufthansa, arriving on June 18, at the St. Petersburg airport, where international flights arrived and departed from a small, crowded building, far from the main terminal and there were long lines to customs, but surprisingly, we were waved through after only a cursory inspection of our papers. Alla was waiting for us at the gate and she drove us to the city in her small Lada (a Russian made car), first through countryside, then past a large monument marking the German siege line of WWII, through suburbs with dreary blocks of postwar housing and finally into the old city, which actually looked very European (most of the buildings, 3 or 4 stories in height, built in the 1800s, were designed by French, German and Italian architects). The weather was quite warm, very unusual, Alla explained, for St. Petersburg in June. Alla lived in a house, her very own house, which in America would not be unusual, but in Russia, at this time, it was incredible. Near the center of the old city there is a large gold domed church, St. Nicholas, built in the late 1700's, which the Soviet government allowed to remain as a church (foreign visitors were shown this church as an example of religious tolerance in the Soviet Union) so the church grounds became a large public park. In the 1970's the city government decided to tear down an old czarist era structure on a large corner site directly across from this park, building a luxury (by Soviet standards) apartment building, 3 stories in height and two individual houses (very rare at that time) one facing the park, the other facing a side street around the corner; the apartments were reserved for highly favored Soviet citizens and the houses reserved for citizens of the highest rank. Anna's father, the internationally acclaimed violinist, Mikial Vaiman, was deemed worthy of receiving one of the houses so he selected the one facing the park and the sister of Anna's mother, Emma, was also married to a noted violinist so they received a unit on the top floor of the apartment building. At this point a crisis developed as an American defector, apparently with much highly secret intelligence information, appeared on the scene and as a price for his defection he demanded a young Russian wife who could play piano (a request easily fulfilled by the Soviet authorities) and a house which happened to be the new house being built which faced the St. Nicholas park. Anna's father would not give up the house promised to him, so the American had to be satisfied with the house facing the side street. Anna's father died when she was 8 years, but Alla was allowed to stay at the house, and when the Soviet Union collapsed, she was allowed to buy the house (the land, however, remained in the hands of the city). When we arrived in St. Petersburg Anna and Misha had preceded us by several days and were settled in at Alla's house, but Alla's sister, Emma, had moved to Germany so Laura and I were given her apartment for our visit (Emma's husband also had died and her son, Anna's cousin, was studying violin in Germany). The apartment was large and completely furnished, including a library with a grand piano); the first night in St. Petersburg was unforgettable as Alla prepared a grand dinner, served in the dining area of her house, and we then went for a walk in that part of the city, along the canals and through the park at St. Nicholaus Church (it is truly a beautiful city and at that time of year it is still twilight at midnight). The changes in recent years were many and profound with the name change of course (Leningrad during the Soviet era), statues of Lenin and other Soviet notables were gone, churches were reopened (one evening when strolling along the Griboedova Canal, we came upon a large old church where Anna said, "Look! It's a church!" and I said yes, obviously, it's a church, but Anna said "No, you don't understand, before it was potato warehouse."). There was a major restoration of many old buildings, the State stores were gone (private shops and American type supermarkets were beginning to appear, during Soviet times there were separate stores for meat, dairy products, bread, etc. and separate lines to order, to pay and to pick up so shopping was a long and tedious process), and American apparel was sought after (a woman selling souvenirs on St. Isaac's Square was wearing a Cincinnati Reds sweatshirt and we saw a street musician with a cap reading "Paul's Pest Service"). Alla made certain that we had an English speaker with us when we went to major sites, including Natasha, a young woman who taught English at a public school who walked us through the Hermitage (wanting to take a photo afterward at Palace Square, I said "you guys stand there", whereupon Natasha said "Oh, in America women also are 'guys'"), and Yuri Predtechensky, a retired physicist who had worked on a guided missile projects, was our guide at the Peter and Paul Fortress, but for the most part Alla, Anna, or both were our escorts. On June 21, the highlight of "White Nights," Anna took us to the River Neva where there were all night celebrations and the 3 large bridges were raised at midnight and we walked the city until dawn (it never really got dark). One afternoon, Anna showed us the "Architects' House", which had housed the architects' society during the Tsarist period. She said there were magnificent murals in the lobby so we went in (she had to stay outside with Misha and the stroller). There were two older women sitting at the entrance, saying something in Russian, but looking at the artwork, we ignored them but finally, one of them said in a loud voice "was tun sie hier?", so I had to make a quick explanation in German (we found out later that at most public buildings, older lady pensioners were posted at entry doors as "guards"). As music was central to the life of Alla and Anna (Alla taught piano at the prestigious St. Petersburg Conservatory) we attended orchestra and ballet performances at the Marinsky Theater (Kirov during the Soviet era so the ballet company, when touring in the U.S., continued to be known as the "Kirov Ballet"). The Conservatory and Theater were only a short walk from Alla's house. We walked Nevsky Prospekt (the "main street" of St. Petersburg) many times and visited the huge Lutheran Church there (the church had been converted to an indoor swimming pool during the Soviet era and was undergoing restoration so Anna was astonished that it had ever been a church), and appropriately, there was now a German beer garden in the church courtyard. One day Alla took us to the Tsarist palace complex at Tsarskoe Selo, about 10 miles south of St. Petersburg, heavily damaged during the German occupation and still undergoing restoration, accompanied by Tamara Predtechensy, wife of Yuri, as Russians paid only a fraction of the admission fee charged to foreign visitors, it was always a good idea to be accompanied by Russian speakers (many Russian emigres would return to St. Petersburg for visits and in a restroom I heard a young boy say "Grandpa, can we speak English now?"). One day we went to Peterhof, another Tsarist palace complex on the Gulf of Finland, about 10 miles west of St. Petersburg, damaged and neglected during the German occupation but largely restored and our "guide" this time was Vladmir Predtechensky, the younger son of Yuri and Tamara (his older brother, Boris, was an aspiring architect/artist in New York City). We traveled by hydrofoil boat to Peterhof and returned by bus and rail with a stop at Vladimir's technical college (he had to pick up some materials), a cheerless complex, concrete and masonry, from the Soviet era, the grounds overgrown and neglected. Nearly all our evening meals were at Alla's house, always starting with a soup course, always delicious and with a fresh vegetable salad. Alla's backyard abutted the backyard of "the American" where he and his Russian wife raised flowers but he never really learned to speak Russian (we exchanged only a brief hello), he longed to return to America, which was not possible so he was a man without a country and probably lived out his days in St. Petersburg. Early in the morning of July 2, Alla took us to the airport, we said our goodbyes', and after much pushing and shoving we were able to get to our boarding gate (there was a stopover in Helsinki where that sleek and modern airport was quite a contrast to the international terminal in St. Petersburg) and by the night of July 2, Laura and I were back in Cincinnati, exhausted but delighted with our Russian adventure. Later that week I took Gleb, heavily laden with suitcases, to O'hare in Chicago and we never saw him again. After returning to Russia he soon left for Germany to seek his fortune - he and Anna separated. Although since early summer I had been stripping old paint from the front porch railing (the paint was so thick that the original shape of the posts was nearly lost under the years of layers) we decided it was finally time to rid the house of its conspicuous yellow trim so we hired a painting crew who started on July 7 and they finished after 10 days of scraping, sanding, priming and painting (I furnished the paint and picked colors that were compatible with the brick color) and also, I told them not to do the wood trim at the front door and windows as I wanted strip, expose and clean the intricate patterns and carving. Late summer of 1995 came with some unexpected changes: Friends of ours, the Rahners (Dave Rahner, M.D., was one of the founders of the Crossroads Medical Clinic in Over-the-Rhine), said they had a friend who had taken a position on the faculty at U.C., and could we take him in for a few weeks while he sold his house in Syracuse, NY and moved his family to Cincinnati. We thought, why not as we had an empty bedroom on the second floor. The name of our temporary guest was Ed Daly and the "few weeks" became more than a year. Another Guest: Dagmar Schilke had a niece, just returned from Germany where she had studied museum conservation and had a temporary job in Indianapolis whose name was Liisa Merz (pronounced "Murts"), a delightful and serious young woman in her mid-twenties (we had met her on one of our trips to Indianapolis). Liisa was offered a one year fellowship in the conservation department at the Cincinnati Art Museum and needed a place to stay. She arrived in early September with all her belongings, and some furniture so we put her in the front bedroom on the third floor (I patched and painted this room after Anna and Gleb left). Also in late summer, I picked up Natalie at the airport (returning from Europe to finish her Artist Diploma at CCM) and she complained about the difficulty of getting through customs and back into the U.S. (she had dual German/Austrian citizenship and some sort of temporary student visa) so I suggested that it would be much easier if she married an American. "I," she said in her British accent" will never marry an American!" (Natalie learned English when her family lived in London). In less than a year Natalie was married to an American. September happenings: My old VW Jetta (purchased in 1982) was beginning to fail so I traded it in for a new 1995 Jetta (Northland Motors in Norwood), which would be the last new car that I would buy for my own use. From far distant Kansas Conrad sent word that he and Judy had married (eloped) on September 18, and as Judy had a house in Chanute, Conrad's address became 20 S. Tennessee Avenue. On September 29 Natalie finally gave her Artist Diploma recital at CCM (violin) and after the recital (it was in the evening) Laura and I took her out to celebrate, together with Kirt Hutchinson who made it a foursome. Kirt lived in the same house as Natalie and absolutely adored her (Natalie seemed to accept his devotion). In October, we took a river cruise with Chuck and Chyrl Brandt during the "Tall Stacks" meet in Cincinnati where there were riverboats from all along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, mostly pleasure boats (the summer boating season was over), of all sizes and shapes, 30 or 40 in number, but only a few true steamboats with operating paddlewheels. The October Keyboard meeting was at 346. I probably hadn't had a birthday celebration since Sioux City days (except for the 1976 event in Rapid City) but November 10, 1995, was my 65th, some sort of milestone apparently, so Laura, had a dinner party, for which Natalie actually baked a cake, our "in house" guests, Lisa Merz and Ed Daly were here of course, as well as Conrad, who was in town, and Kirt Hutchinson, who was becoming a regular. In late November Laura went to a NAEYC National Convention in Washington, D.C. where coincidentally there was a rare and very special art exhibit at the National Gallery, a collection of paintings by the 17th century Dutch artist, Johannes Vermeer ("Girl with a Pearl Earring") so Laura did not miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. Henry Meyer heard our stories of the wonders of St. Petersburg and so decided that this was something he had to see, although it was late fall, the leaves were gone and ice was forming on the canals (Alla was his host), but he thought it was magnificent. We have a book of his photos. In December, Laura's mother decided to go to Arizona for Christmas to visit her sisters Dorothy and Laurabelle so we decided it would also be a good time for family visits (my family and Laura's.) We drove to the Indianapolis airport (much cheaper than flying out of Cincinnati) landed in Phoenix December 18, rented a car and drove out to Apache Junction where Laura's Aunt Laurabelle had a double wide unit in a mobile home park. We took a day trip up to the Superstition Mountains (Laura and I, Laura's mother and Aunt Laurabelle) but this time I did the driving. Another time the 4 of us went out to see Aunt Dorothy for dinner and a traditional Bowmaster card game (Laura's cousin Ralph was there, retired and living in the Phoenix area). My cousin Paula Hassler, invited us over for Christmas where Don and Paula were there, of course, as well as Paula's children, Bill and Nori Muster, and after dinner and drinks presents were opened, which was a bit awkward as Laura and I had not planned to be at this Christmas event and certainly hadn't brought anything from Cincinnati (Paula had quickly got and wrapped presents for us) but it was a very strange Christmas (totally secular). We also drove down to Tucson to visit my cousin, Phyllis Nicholson where her husband, Glen, had died unexpectedly the year before, shortly after they had moved into a new home, so she was living alone (except for a dog). I drove (without Laura) to Yuma to visit my cousin Dick Schilke and his wife Diane and I spent a morning at Dick's watch and jewelry shop where it was fascinating to see Dick expertly and quickly replace the watch batteries for walk in customers. Dick suggested that I take a different route back to Phoenix, a road straight north of Yuma through the desert. A few miles from Yuma I came upon an unforgettable sight - an encampment of hundreds of motor homes, trailers and RV's, parked in this barren, desolate area (it cost little to camp there and cheap medical/dental care was only a few miles away in Mexico) which for me it was a sad thing to see and I hoped that I would never have to live that way. By December 28, we were back in Cincinnati and looking forward to a quiet New Year's Eve. 1996 - The number has a pleasant sound - my 65th year on this earth - retirement age for many and time for a slowdown (no foreign travel for Laura and me this year). The week after New Year's we were at a King's Day party at the Towe's and in February there was a birthday party for Amanda Quishpe at a Chinese restaurant. Liisa was seriously involved in an Asian martial art sport, Tae Kwon Do, both in Cincinnati and Indianapolis club and, in making a banner for them, somehow got gold leaf and glue tangled in her hair. In March Laura and I did the annual 10K Heartwalk. By this time Kittycat had figured out that Ed Daly was the first one up in the morning, so she no longer woke Laura at first light and poor Ed had to take care of her breakfast demands. Life and work became routine as I went to AMK, Laura and Ed to UC and Lisa to the Art museum so except for Kittycat, the house was empty during the day (weekends were not routine). After much persuasion, Kirt Hutchinson won over Natalie, and after a short engagement they were married (civil ceremony on April 12). Kirt had an engineering degree from UC, worked at a chemical plant in Cincinnati (they made powdered dyes, colorful, but stifling work. He was originally from Dayton, Ohio, but his parents were divorced and, except for his father, he seemed to have little connection to his family. We had a post-wedding dinner at the revolving restaurant on top of the Riverview Hotel in Covington where there were only five of us, Kirt and Natalie, Laura and I, and the bridesmaid (a friend of Natalie from UC). In early May, we went to Michigan for Dan Goodell's confirmation, and a few days later we met Conrad and Judy, briefly, at the Cincinnati Airport, a layover on their way back to Kansas (they had been to an American Institute of Museums convention where Conrad had received a "Professional Excellence" award). A major event occurred in May as we made the final mortgage payment on the house so 346 was ours, free and clear. Another late spring happening: Liisa was in a Tae Known Do meet at a northern suburb when she called, saying she had been kicked in the lower back, couldn't drive, and could hardly walk so we brought her home, set up a temporary "sick room" on the first floor (she couldn't do stairs). Liisa didn't want her mother (Dagmar's sister) to know, but the word got out and her mother called and suggested that Lisa take up ballroom dancing rather than Tae Kwon Do. On a Sunday afternoon in early June, Laura gave a piano recital at the home of Curt and Ginny Wilhelm in Hyde Park (an unusual architect designed house, probably from the 1920's where the Wilhelms had lived for many years and as they were rock-ribbed Republicans, had a large collection of elephant figurines. Concert Grand: Sometime in June a friend from the Keyboard Club told us about the annual World Piano Competition and said they needed host families (with pianos) to house the out-of-town competitors. We thought this would put our grand (mid-sized) piano to good use, so in early July we were at the airport to pick up Igor Resnianski. Igor was Russian, but studying in Texas, he was an excellent pianist, spoke good English and had an absolutely delightful personality. A friend of his from Russia, Anton Mordasov, who had just won a competition in Montreal, decided to enter this competition also, and when Igor discovered this, he called his friend, and speaking in English said, "Anton! Why you come to Cincinnati? Why not let someone else win?". The competition was held downtown at the Aronoff Center and Anton did win the top prize (gold medal, $10,000 and a concert performance at Lincoln Center in NYC), but Igor won the silver medal (second place), which obligated him to return to Cincinnati for a master class/fundraising recital. It was such a great experience that we decided to sign up for the next year. Back to the Big City: Anna Vaiman called from St. Petersburg, saying that the Marinsky Orchestra and Opera would be at Tanglewood and Lincoln Center in late July. Not an opportunity to be missed, so Laura and I flew into Albany and rented a car but there was some confusion about the schedule and we missed the Tanglewood performance. Undeterred we drove to NYC, found a motel in Paramus, NJ (across from the Upper West Side) and went over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan where we met Anna at the hotel (north of Lincoln Center, rooms rented by the Marinsky), did a driving tour of the City (driving in Manhattan is a bit harrowing but finding a parking space is impossible), met Boris Predtechensky (see our 1995 trip to St. Petersburg) and visited the shop where Anna kept "the" violin. Anna got us tickets for the Marinsky Opera performance at Lincoln Center, and afterwards, walked back to the hotel along Broadway with Anna and Denis (Marinsky double bass), stopping at a sidewalk café which made it an unforgettable evening. Road Trip: John and Karen Murdock had left Ohio for Charlotte, North Carolina (John had taken a job with a bank in that growing city), and newlyweds Kirt and Natalie Hutchinson had moved to Wilmington on the coast (Kirt had taken a job with Corning Glass in Wilmington), so in late August Laura and I were on the road again. First stop was Charlotte where John and Karen had a house in a new subdivision, bordering a golf course and Michael, their youngest was in a public high school (William was at Ohio State, Michelle at U. of Dayton). We did a tour of the city, and one day went up to Mocksville, NC, to visit an old Sioux City friend, Gordon Ruby ("Gordie") who I hadn't seen in nearly 40 years. He graduated with an engineering degree from Iowa State, but we kept in touch (Christmas letters) but I was astonished when we met as the lean and wiry kid I knew was now an exact copy of his stocky father (Carl Ruby). We reminisced about Sioux City days and our families (after his father retired, his parents went back to Lake Mills, Iowa, a Norwegian community, where his widowed mother died in a house fire and that his younger sister, Ruth Ann, was in poor health). He asked for advice about an expansion plans for the local Lutheran Church (not many Lutherans in that part of North Carolina). Gordon died the next year (I still have memories of the house on Paxton St. at Ceclia Park, Gordon's basement photo dark room, his mother's Norwegian Christmas pastries, Carl Ruby and my Dad in gemütlich conversation after dinner). Kirt and Natalie had little money and almost no furniture so they rented a run-down small "furnished" house on the edge of Willimington where Kirt did a lot of work on the house and yard to make the place livable and we brought a rocking chair from Cincinnati. Wilmington is an interesting old city, trying to make a comeback as a tourist destination where we visited the WWII battleship North Carolina, now a permanently docked museum, and had dinner at a riverfront restaurant. Party Time: September 14, 1996, Laura's 50th birthday. Some might want this occasion to be downplayed but Laura wanted a celebration, and a celebration it was, probably the largest group we've ever hosted at 346 including Ed Daly and Liisa Merz of course (by this time Liisa was becoming seriously involved with Hung Le from the Indianapolis Tae Kwon Do club, so he was here), Laura's mother, Dave, Sue, Jamie and Dan from Michigan, William and Michelle Murdock from their Columbus and Dayton schools, the Schuberts and Rahners with all the kids, Jose and Tammy Quishpe with Carmen and Amanda, Caroline and Charlie Fehr, our neighbor Bernice Abrams, Laura's 4C friends - Annette Rehn and Pam Melton (with Bob Melton), and numerous friends from Prince of Peace - the Brandt's, Towes, Ohlmansieks, Sippels, Pastor Johnson and his boys, Smithy Calhoun, Deborah Leavel, Melanie LIeuwin, and probably a few others I can't remember. The weather was perfect so folks were spilled out into the yard and front porch. From Dave and Sue, Laura received a cap which read "Still perfect after all those years" (Dave knew how to nail his sister). Jamie, Dan, William and Michelle disappeared for a time but when they returned Laura discovered that her car was filled with black balloons. It was a grand affair but sadly, we saw all our friends many times through the years, but never again all together in a group like this. Liisa left for Indianapolis in September and we missed her vigor, wit and always inquisitive mind. Kittycat, who tolerated Laura and Ed because they fed her in the morning, would have nothing to do with Liisa so Liisa, in turn, dubbed her "Miss Hissyface". Before she left, Liisa helped organize, and got me involved, in the reincarnation of "The Art League". Some historical background: In the early 1900s an organization was formed to enhance visual art at the Cincinnati Public Schools which was called The Art League and pennies were collected from children and the money used to buy paintings, sculpture, murals, tiles and Rookwood drinking fountains. The Art League program became defunct by the 1930s and over the years many of the paintings ended up in store rooms (a janitor's closet in one case), or simply just disappeared. As revised, The Art League sought to collect, preserve catalogue and properly store those paintings and Liisa was responsible for much of the effort to save a mural at the old Condon School, a building which was being demolished. The rest of 1996 was more or less routine - we started rehearsals for the Martin Luther King Choral, pumpkin painting for Halloween, and fruit cake baking (had to be done a month before Christmas). Laura gave a presentation at a NAEYC conference (Ohio Chapter) at Bowling Green State U., after which we went up to Michigan. November 20, Igor arrived for his obligatory piano recital/master class with the recital a formal dinner affair at the Queen City Club (I had to borrow a Tux from Carl Payne), an elegant old establishment with large portraits of Generals Grant and Sherman in the dining room. December Keyboard meeting was at our house, Rich and Joyce Mellot had their annual Christmas brunch (a chance to reconnect with the old Pavillion gang) and we had our annual Christmas gathering here at 346 (the group was getting smaller). The Daly's finally sold their house in Syracuse (Ed had gone there for Christmas) so we picked up the whole family (Ed, Anne and the 4 kids, Madelein, Chloe, Alexander and Berenice) at the airport and they stayed with us until they could move into temporary housing provided by the University. The kids ranged in age from about 3 to 9 and were completely bilingual (Anne was French) having spent part of each summer at the family vacation place in Brittany. The eight of us had a great New Year's Eve party. 1997 - Another very different year (actually it seems that every year was very different than the one before as life was certainly not repetitious. We did the usual M.L. King day choral sing at Music Hall (at this time, I was going to NYC nearly every week for AMK work at Sotheby's), and in February we went to dinner at Ed and Anne Daly's as they finally had a (semi-permanent) home, a rental unit in a Mariemont row house. The big events of the year began on March 15 when we left for another sojourn to Europe. Timora was studying/working in Amsterdam and invited us to come for a visit but at that time there were no direct flights from Cincinnati to Amsterdam so we flew into Paris, went to Gare du Nord and took a highspeed train (Thalys) to Amsterdam. Gare du Nord is the main transit center in the north of Paris, serving subways, city buses, light rail, national and high speed trains (in Paris, trains go to stations on the periphery, trains do not go through Paris). After a few hours (at top speed, the landscape of northern France and southern Belgium is a blur) we arrived at Amsterdam Central Station, which is the main transit center for that city, on the north edge of the old city center, serving street cars, city buses, local and international trains. Our hotel, Hotel Piet Hein, on the south edge of the old city center, an old establishment, but renovated, modern, very neat and clean, and an easy walk to most of what we wanted to see. We connected with Timora (her school was not far from our hotel) and she rode throughout the city on her "junk bike" (better bikes had a tendency to get stolen), and then we set out to explore the city. We took a canal cruise for general orientation (the old city grew along a series of canals) and went to the oldest church in Amsterdam, the Oude Kerk (1300s) which had a magnificent pipe organ (someone playing Bach), but most of the windows were white frosted glass with only a few broken remnants of what must have been beautiful stained glass. I asked the girl at the reception desk about the windows and she said it happened on a German bombing raid, but this didn't sound right as I was certain the Germans never bombed Amsterdam so I did some research finding that the original stained glass windows were smashed in a 1500's Protestant uprising. When we exited at the rear of the church we were astonished to find we were in the center of the "red-light" district with women on display in their underwear at large windows along the street, mostly Asia and West Indian, not very attractive I thought. I mentioned this to Timora, who said the better-looking girls come out at night, and to prove her point, one evening she took us down a very narrow, crowded street where she would say "Now look at this one," pointing to one of the ladies on display "she isn't too bad". We toured many historic buildings, Rembrant's house, the Anne Frank House, the Rijksmusem (Rembrant's "Night Watch"), the Van Gogh Museum (200 of his paintings), other museums and a diamond cutting center. There is a large National Monument at the Dam, a memorial to WWII which it seemed rather innocuous, and when I mentioned this to our hotel clerk, he said that while most people were reluctant to think about it, "more Dutchmen died fighting for Hitler than against him." One evening Timora took us to the Concertgebouw for an orchestra concert (she had just won a cello competition), and another evening we went out for a traditional Indonesian feast. Timora had a new boyfriend, Allen Kamp who had a checkered past, as he was born in New Jersey (still an American citizen), moved with his parents to Israel, then to South America, and finally to Amsterdam where his father had a business (most of his family and his grandparents lived in the US). Allen worked in marketing for a chocolate factory and one night the 4 of us went to the factory (closed for the night) to pick up several pounds of "rejects", very fancy and delicious chocolates nevertheless. On our last day in Amsterdam we shopped for Dutch cheese (we also bought a sugar dispenser, which we still use, every day) and on March 21, we took the high-speed train back to Paris. Paris: Back to our favorite hotel, the Hotel dela Sorbonne, top floor again so we could look over rooftops to the Pantheon (and down into the classrooms of the Sorbonne), and a chance to explore parts of Paris we hadn't seen before. It was early spring but the weather was clear and warm (the first flowers were beginning to bloom). We headed for the Marais, a 17th century part of the city, just northeast of the center with many elegant homes from that period, did a quick tour of the Picasso Museum, and walked the Place des Vosges, probably the stateliest of all Parisian parks (also did a quick tour of Victor Hugo's apartment, which overlooks the Vosges) and on the way back we stopped to see "the oldest tree in Paris" (1601), which, frankly, appeared to be clinging to life. The next day we were off to Versailles (by train, from Gare St. Lazare) at the invitation of Anne Daly's grandparents, Claude and Jacqueline Barbazanges, who, much to our relief, both spoke excellent English. M'sieur Claude had a particularly fascinating life, drafted into the French army at the beginning of WWII, captured by the Germans, paroled, and after the war, spent several years in America working and traveling as an expertise in metallurgy and alloys. "The first American I saw," he said, "was a dead one" (paratrooper, Normandy, 1944). Mdme said "I read only English novels". The Barbazanges lived in a magnificent second floor apartment which was once part of the 18th Century home of a noble family in the city of Versailles, where after an excellent meal (in the Barbazanges dining room Claude arranged for an English-speaking tour of the Palace (we didn't mention that we had seen much of this on a previous visit to Versailles). The following day we did a quick walking tour of our "neighborhood" - Pantehon, Cluny (Musee National Du Moyen Age, Roman baths, tapestries), Place de la Contrescarpe (not to be missed), and finally down Boulevard Saint Germaine to the church (Saint-Germain-des-Pres, one of the oldest in Paris, partially destroyed in French Revolution, early spring flowers blooming in churchyard) and Les Deux Magots (this Bohemian café is now a tourist favorite). The last full day on this Parisian trip we took a train (from Gare de Montaprnasse) to Chartes as I always wanted to see the great cathedral (Notre-Dame-de-Chartes) and its incredible 12th and 13th century stained glass windows, many destroyed in French Revolution but with the remnant preserved and being restored (we managed to slip into a tour conducted by a very knowledgeable Englishman). Last morning in Paris we said goodbye to the "hotel lady" and her dogs at the lobby of Hotel de la Sorbonne. Back in Cincinnati it was springtime, best season of the year, where we did the usual 10K Heartwalk, had a visit from Else Tasseron, then Conrad and Judy, Bill and Dagmar Schilke for a May Festival Performance, and finally, Rhoda Schuler from St. Paul (Rhoda wanted to see Margaret Towe who was undergoing chemotherapy/cancer treatment, perhaps a last goodbye). Early June we went to Michigan for a graduation party, Jamie Goodell, Laura's nephew. June 10, we were off on another European trip, to St. Petersburg, Russia and this time in Alla's house (she put us in her piano studio, second floor, facing the street and St. Nicholas park, a great space except for streetcars which loudly rounded a curve below our windows). Misha, who was 3 years old, had a room across the hall, and though he was going to an American preschool, would not speak to us (he understood us perfectly when we spoke English), but entertained us with a solo on his very small violin and showed us his collection of toys (including our gift of a wood truck made by Bill Schilke). Laura and I walked much of the city (18th and 19th century St. Petersburg is a place of stunning beauty with many rivers and canals, classical buildings designed by Italian and French architects, grand palaces, magnificent bridges and imposing public spaces) and Misha accompanied us on many of these walks. Browsing through the Hermitage we came upon an inconspicuous room (unmarked in the museum guidebooks) with a small sign that this was art acquired during the Great Patriotic War (Russian designation for WWII) but the room was crowded with people, viewing the paintings, mostly French Impressionist and I saw a large painting by Degas which fascinated me, "Vicomte Lepec Crossing the Place de la Concorde With His Two Daughters" (I wanted to know more about this painting, so back in Cincinnati at the Art Museum library I found a Degas book with a copy of this painting, stating that it had been in a private collection in Berlin, disappeared during the 1945 battle, presumed no longer in existence). With Alla and Misha spent a full day at Peterhof and as it was White Nights time in St. Petersburg (never totally dark) we walked the city one night with Anna; large Lutheran Church on Nevsky Prospekt closed for major restoration (a new floor had to be installed over what was a swimming pool. Anna was playing with the Marinsky Orchestra so we went to a concert and afterwards met Valery Gerguiev, a rising star in the conducting world. On our return flight, there was a layover of several hours in Frankfurt, so Laura and I went by light rail for a quick look at the city. Frankfurt, almost totally destroyed by WWII bombing raids, has been rebuilt and is now the banking center of Europe with many new office towers rising above restored older buildings (birthplace of Goethe, many restored churches and the great cathedral significant in German and Lutheran history). Back in Cincinnati for a busy summer where we hosted a pianist again for the World Piano Competition. The pianist arrived in early July from Poland, Rafal Luszczewski, spoke excellent English (American English as he lived in Florida for a time). We had a backyard cookout with Rafal, Ed and Anne Daly and the kids. Rafal was a superb pianist and we were surprised that he didn't make the final cut and on the evening that the finalists were announced, I was on the sidewalk outside the Aronoff Center with Rafal and another Polish pianist (a young woman). Rafal was very angry, saying "It's those Russian judges, They don't like Poles". The other pianist tried to calm him down saying that the selected finalists were really quite good and when a panhandler approached, the young women said she would give him something as soon as the argument was over but Rafal's rant continued with the other pianist saying she thought the judgment was fair, so the panhandler waited patiently, but finally left. Later in July Paula and Don Hassler arrived in their RV as they were making a grand tour from Phoenix to the East Coast (unbelievable that Don maneuvered that unwieldy vehicle through downtown Manhattan) and were on their way back home so we gave them a tour of the city and Laura and Don made music (piano and bassoon). Early August Laura's cousin Fred Pearsall, his wife and friends were passing through town so we met for dinner at a Northern Kentucky restaurant. In late August Laura's mother came from Florida (we picked her up at the airport) for a week's stay and then in early September we all went to Michigan for Dave and Sue's 25th wedding anniversary celebration where the main event was at Sue's church (Faith Lutheran), so we spent a good part of the day setting up tables in the church basement, sorting plates and dinnerware (everything had to be properly matched), and I was recruited to give the presentation speech and toast (non-alcoholic) and happily there was a large crowd of friends, neighbors and relatives. In late September, we went apple picking at an orchard in Northern Kentucky with Ed, Anne, the kids and Anne's brother, Martin, who was visiting from France so we all busily picked apples, except Martin, who wandered off to a nearby meadow and picked wildflowers. About this time Margaret Towe died (cancer). Margaret was a founding member and pillar of Prince of Peace Church, dedicated and active in the Church and Over-the-Rhine, there was no one who could take her place. In mid-October, we started rehearsals (Tuesday nights) with Martin Luther King Choral which by this time it had become a fall routine. The son of an AMK colleague (Larry Prusiner, retired and moved to California), Dr. Stanely Prusiner, a neurologist, won the 1997 Nobel Prize in medicine). A wedding in Indianapolis: October 19, Liisa Merz (one of our "girls") married Hung Le at a Lutheran church in Indianapolis, followed by a dinner and reception at an event center where it was a warm autumn day, the grounds were spacious and rich with fall flowers. Liisa was a beautiful bride and we met her parents (Dagmar Schilke is her mother's sister) who traveled from the East Coast and Hung's family, who came down from Chicago (the family had originally escaped from Vietnam). Travels West: In mid-November Laura went to a conference in Anaheim, California with not much time for sightseeing. But she did make it to the Crystal Cathedral, at the time one of the wonders of Southern California, a mighty mega church with thousands of devotees (Rev. Dr. Shuler/"House of Power"). A dozen years later, in financial ruin, the magnificent glass edifice sold in bankruptcy. There were the usual Christmas activities with dinner at Ed and Anne Daly's (they were renting a row house in Mariemont) - helped the kids decorate the Christmas tree, Christmas party at Rich and Joyce Mellot's (the once-a-year gathering of the old Pavillion gang) and our Christmas Eve party after service at Prince of Peace. After 15 years, I gave up my position as Treasurer and became the Financial Secretary. As Financial Secretary, all I did really is collect, record and deposit the weekly income as Chyrl Brandt had taken over as Treasurer. One of the few exterior walls of the house without a window or door is the north wall of the large second floor bedroom (the bedroom which Laura and I used) so in December we hired a contractor, "Handyman Connection," to insulate that wall (2 inches of closed cell foam board with a gypsum board face) and the effect was dramatic with no more freezing wall behind our heads on cold winter nights. I also stripped the wallpaper, patched and painted the walls and ceiling of this room and also this year (late summer) I finally finished sanding and painting (urethane) the wood front porch deck. In fall we also replaced the sink and countertop in the upstairs bathroom which because of a continuing moisture problem (hot showers, cold walls) this room needs a partial patch and painting makeover every 2 or 3 years. 1998: Another busy year, perhaps not as hectic as 1997. We started with a New Year's Day dinner at our house with Ed and Anne Daly and the kids, then the following Saturday Jeff Brandt had an open house party at his newly acquired and partially renovated building on a hillside overlooking Over-the-Rhine, and finally on Sunday, a party at Chuck and Chryl Brandts. We had the ususal intense rehearsals with the Martin Luther King Choral for the performance in Music Hall on MLK Day, and then brought January to a close with a Super Bowl party at Pastor Chris Johnson's apartment in Northern Kentucky, but winter wasn't through with Cincinnati as on February 4, we had 11.8 inches of snow, an all-time record. Planned and unplanned: On Feburary 8 we hosted the monthly Keyboard Club meeting, a scheduled event, but then we had an unscheduled event. The World Piano Competition office called, saying that one of the 1997 winners (see the Rafal piano story) was coming to perform at a fundraising dinner, but that his original host family was out of town, and would we take him in? Except for Kittycat we had an empty house, so we thought, why not. His name was Armen Babakhanian (we called him "Armen the Armenian"), a short man, but with powerful arms and hands, he played with great intensity. Laura came home one afternoon and was surprised that he was practicing on the Baldwin upright rather than the grand, for it seems that his enthusiastic pounding had broken one of the hammers. Nevertheless, we went to Armen's concert at the Queen City Club and had the piano repaired the next week. Phoenix Reunion: In early April, we were off to Phoenix again, flying directly out of Cincinnati this time but before the official start of the reunion we drove out to Apache Junction to see Laura's Aunt Laurabelle, still living in the same mobile home park but by this time Laurabelle was becoming impaired by arthritis, was no longer driving and had a live-in couple who did a lot of homecare (the lady was in some sort of clown organization which entertained at nursing homes). Friday evening (March 6) we were back in Tempe, at Paula and Don Hassler's home, the reunion headquarters (the house, spacious and with a backyard pool, actually belonged to Nori Muster, Paula's daughter, who was living in California at the time). Bill Schilke brought in a collection of his handiwork, a wooden Civil War era railroad engine, trucks and various other vehicles, all beautifully made by Bill, which he and Dagmar were transporting to a grandson in California. Saturday morning, we picked up Conrad and Judy at the airport, did a quick tour of the Arizona Capital grounds, then joined the reunion group for a very chilly baseball exhibition game (Don said it wasn't supposed to be that cold in Phoenix). That evening Don had arranged for group dinner at the Pinnacle Peak Steakhouse which by this time we were joined by my cousin Phyllis from Tucson and some of her family, cousin Dick Schilke and Diane from Yuma, and Dick's children, Rick and Linda, and Ben Copeland and his new wife Loretta (Ben's first wife, my cousin Margaret, died in 1992) and Diana and Richard Runge from St. Louis who had also braved the baseball game that afternoon. Sunday morning, we had a wild brunch at Ed Debevic's Theme Restaurant and Sunday afternoon Laura and Don gave us a piano/bassoon concert in the Hassler "music room". Somewhere in all this activity, Laura, I, Conrad and Judy, found time to visit the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix. In 1997 my cousin Dick Schilke had a severe stroke which left him partially paralyzed (he was overweight and a heavy smoker) so we got together at the motel Sunday morning before he and Diane left for Yuma. As we said our goodbyes', Dick and I, boyhood friends from long ago in Sioux City, knew that we would never see each other again, at least not on this earth. On Monday Laura and I were back in Cincinnati. Late winter and early spring we did the usual (other than work), dinners with the Brandts and Dalys, the 10K Heartwalk, Ballet and Sympony concerts, and the MLK Choral had a special concert, so there were rehearsals for that. April 17 Laura took a 4-day trip to Florida to visit her mother. Anna phoned from St. Petersburg saying she would be in New York City with her orchestra (Marinsky) and that Alla and Misha would come also, so the first week of May Laura and I had to be there and we found a Bed and Breakfast on the West Side not far north of Lincoln Center. By this time Misha was a very active 4-year-old and had developed a relationship with the doorman at their hotel. We had only a few days so had to confine our sightseeing mostly to Midtown and the playground at Central Park is only a short walk from Alla's hotel but Misha refused to get on the carousel until Anna went with him, and then he didn't want to stop his whirling adventure. We had a late lunch at the Carnegie Deli, a quintessential New York corned beef on rye followed by an enormous portion of cheesecake. The next day subway up to the Children's Museum (diminutive compared to the Indianapolis Children's Museum, but Misha loved it) then a subway down to Lower Manhattan and the World Trade Center where we spent a lot of time on the top observation deck with daylight fading to dusk, we could see for miles, the city lights breaking gradually below (World Trade Center no longer exists, "9-11", 2001). One evening we went to a concert at Lincoln Center where there is a memorable photo of Alla, Misha and me at the fountain. At the end of May we were in Frankenmuth, Michigan, for a get-together with Dave and Sue Goodell, and Karen and John Murdock, then early June another trip to North Carolina, this time Charllote, for Michael Murdock's high school graduation, then down to Willmington to visit Kirt and Natalie where the Hutchinsons had moved up in the world since our last visit as they now had a new house in a new subdivision (the house had a screened side porch with the screens soon ripped out by a large stray dog, "Toby," which Natalie adopted). Natalie was giving violin lessons, playing in the local symphony orchestra (pro bono), and had learned how to drive, which made us all quite nervous when she was at the wheel. One day we went to the beach at nearby Fort Fisher and, as Willmington was the last deep water port in Southern hands (Civil War), in January, 1865, the Union launched a massive bombardment and amphibious assault on Fort Fisher which completely overwhelmed the Confederate garrison. Natalie had no concept of the Civil War, so in her mind the Union was the "enemy" who had invaded her adopted homeland. Kirt quietly tolerated Natalie's quirks. Summer in Cincinnati is hot and humid so we finally had a central air conditioning system installed (a blessed relief for the first 2 floors, but we still needed a window unit for the third floor), and to complete the "modernization" we had a new toilet installed in the basement. We also signed up for the full summer opera series, agreed to house another competitor for the World Piano Competition, and had a busy summer with cookouts/dinners with the Brandt's, Daly's, Jose and Tammy Quishpe, Kurt and Ginny Wilhelm. Dmitri Teterin arrived from Russia on June 29 for 2 weeks of intense keyboard activity. He was tall, cool, self-assured and spoke excellent English (as a teenager he was Mikhail Gorbachev's personal pianist during a state visit to Canada) and after the first round he announced that he would win the gold medal. Our mid-sized grand, he decided, was not suitable, so he made arrangements to practice on a full-sized concert grand at CCM and on the day before the final round, he asked Laura and me to listen as he played his piece de resistance, a full concerto movement. We sat in a small CCM practice room, the space mostly taken by a concert grand but the mask of self-assurance was gone and he was concerned and nervous. Dmitri did win the gold, so there was another post-concert dinner. Lucy Girl: In June, we were approached by an organization that brought foreign high school students to America for a year of study and cultural experience and they were looking for housing so we agreed, although somewhat reluctantly. Lucy Scherer arrived August 8. Lucy was from a small town in Bavaria, north of Regensburg, where her parents operated a restaurant, and was enrolled in a dance program at SCPA (School for Creative and Performing Arts, a Cincinnati Public School which specialized in the arts, hence the school name). We were surprised when she got off the plane in crutches as she twisted her knee at a rough game during an orientation week at Yale. A spunky girl, she said "No problem, I can sing" so she entered the vocal arts program at SCPA. Lucy was a very pretty girl, 16 years old, and spoke excellent "American" English and she made friends with another exchange student, a tall red haired German girl, Paula, who sometimes stayed with us. One evening we came home to find Lucy and Paula sitting on the front steps as Lucy had accidently locked herself out and they were waiting anxiously, saying "Paula needs to go to bathroom real bad". Although she was supposedly in Cincinnati for some serious study, it soon became apparent that Lucy's (and Paula's) main interest was boys (I recall that at a host family meeting, an older man, who had been with the exchange program for some time, advised me "Never try to understand the mind of a teenage girl"). Peter the Cat: Natalie's mother, Dagmar Mamleew, enrolled in some sort of homeopathic study course in Tuscon, Arizona (probably not the sort of thing allowed in Germany) - she had an old and not very healthy cat, Peter. Because of Peter's fragil condition, no kennel in Germany would take him so Natalie and her mother devised the following: Dagmar and Peter would fly from Frankfurt to Cincinnati, Natalie and Kirt would fly from North Carolina to Cincinnati, Natalie would exchange a large suitcase, which she had packed with things for her mother, for Peter, Dagmar would fly from Cincinnati to Tuscon, Natalie and Kirt would return to North Carolina with Peter and after her stay in Tuscon, Dagmar would pick up Peter in North Carolina and return to Germany. Because of an overnight layover, we would meet Natalie and Kirt at the airport, help with the exchange, and take them back to our place for the night. All went as planned, except when Natalie and Krit went to the baggage carousel, Dagmar's large suitcase was there, but no Dagmar, no Peter. We spent the next hour (Kirt burdened with 2 heavy suitcases), trudging from terminal to terminal, looking for Dagmar (and Peter). Natalie was getting desperate so we decided the only possibility of making a connection would be to go to the Tucson boarding gate but Dagmar wasn't there. They were about to close the gate when a very large airport security guard appeared, leading a dazed older woman with a cat carrier and there was time for only a few words and the exchange of Peter for the suitcases. Back in Cincinnati, Natalie and Lucy had a delightful conversation in German/English and I called my cousin Phyllis in Tucson, told her to meet a very confused older woman, with a serious case of jet lag, arriving on a flight from Cincinnati. Natalie's mother later said she was astonished when a woman was waiting at the airport with a sign reading "DAGMAR MAMLEEW" (Dagmar was fluent in English, German, French and Russian, lived in Paris and London, but somehow had neglected to arrange accommodations in Tucson). Phyllis found Dagmar a place to stay but the stress of travel and new surroundings were too much for Peter the Cat so in spite of Natalie's loving care, Peter died in North Carolina, never to return to Germany. Midwestern Adventures: On August 23, Laura, Lucy and I left for a weeklong journey with the first top, St. Louis. We had a room at a motel and some of my Runge cousins met us there, where we would continue on to a Runge mini-reunion at a St. Louis restaurant, but Lucy had disappeared. Cousin Eleanor said there was a nearby mall where we would undoubtedly find Lucy (Eleanor was right). The mini-reunion was great as it included first cousins Clem, Eleanor and Carl, as well as Clem's 3 sons, Richard, Don, and Jeff (and wives) and Carl's son, Mark (and wife). Our next stop was St. Charles, where we walked the historic old downtown (now very touristy) and then had dinner with a German classmate of Lucy and her host family. Next morning, we drove west on I-70 with a stop in Fulton where in 1946 Winston Churchill made his famous "Iron Curtain" speech, and where we saw a statue of Churchill, a relocated and restored 12th century London church, and part of Berlin Wall. After many hours of driving, crossed from Missouri into Kansas and down to Chanute (many Europeans have no concept of the vastness of the Western Plains so Lucy was getting carsick). In Chanute, we stayed with Conrad and Judy where one day we went to the farm (Judy's homestead) still operated by Judy's brother and saw the enormous towering machine with a glass enclosed control cabin at the top, used to harvest the many acres of corn, and back in Chanute visited the Safari Museum (much of the credit for the success of this small private museum in Southeast Kansas belongs to Conrad, his hard work and insight). Early one morning we headed north (a 2 car convey as Conrad and Judy came along for this part of the journey) through Kansas City, visited the Pony Express Museum in St. Joseph, crossed the river into Nebraska, had dinner at a Persian restaurant in old downtown Omaha, then across the Missouri River again, into Western Iowa with winding roads, hills, fields of corn, "God's Country". In Charter Oak, we stopped to see Agnes and Hans Schau (Agnes, one of the few remaining of my mother's cousins, and looked at old family photos), had hoped to see Irma Fiene one more time (another of Mother's cousins) but she had died recently at a rest home in nearby Mapleton. Hanover church (St. Paul's): A few miles northeast of Charter Oak, Grandfather's church, the large adjacent parsonage where Mother lived until her marriage, the church on "Hanover Hill," white and with a high single steeple which could be seen for miles against the empty sky and all around were the rolling clay hills and distant ridges of Western Iowa, treeless, faraway and beyond, memories of festivals on the church lawn, ladies in aprons, platters of food, rows of tables, tablecloths, farmers with red sunburned faces and white foreheads. Lucy read epitaphs on old graveyard stones, saying "People don't speak like that anymore". Perhaps not in Bavaria, but these were North Germans (Lucy and I did have our arguments over word pronunciations, "I may be from Bavaria, but I can also speak proper German"). We went into the church where Laura played a few old hymns on the pipe organ, and in a small storage room off the balcony, there is graffiti in large letters, dated 1906, "A. Runge" and "E. Runge". We spent the night in Denison (county seat of Crawford County), saw Uncle Martin's old house, at this point Conrad and Judy left us for return to Chanute (many memories of Charter Oak, Hanover and Denison, perhaps seeing it all for the last time). Iowa City, a very different part of Iowa where we stayed in the same motel as Dick Runge and Brownie (their house, badly damaged by a falling tree in a storm, was undergoing major remodeling), German food and browsing at the nearby Amana Colonies, dinner that evening in Iowa City (joined by daughter Christina Runge with Lucy sent off to a teen party). Brownsburg, Indiana, final stop on this epic journey where we visited Bill and Dagmar Schilke and their son David, and finally back on the road to Cincinnati. Lucy was enrolled in SCPA, the vocal arts program, but not a serious student (she and Paula were often at the Ludlow business district, where the college boys hung out). She developed an interest in a fellow student, but he lived in a distant part of town where a nearby family there was also involved in the same foreign student program and they had space for another student, so Lucy asked to be moved (told the program supervisor that she was not happy living with us). Early October Lucy was gone (her grandmother wrote from Germany apologizing for Lucy's behavior) and Laura said "No more German girls," (Lucy did give us tickets to a November SCPA performance of "Music Man" in which she had a singing part). With the Lucy episode past, we were back to our fall routine, including rehearsals with the MLK choral, trips to Michigan and Chicago, dinner with the Schilke's in Brownsburg and with Ed and Anne in Mariemont, and symphony concerts. Dimitri was back for his required World Piano Competition performance and in November Laura went to Toronto for several days for an early childhood education conference. We went to a Thanksgiving party at Jeff Brandt's house on an Over-the-Rhine hillside, where the remodeling and restoration of the upper floors was nearly complete. December: the usual pre-Christmas activities, brunch at Mellot's, party at Schuberts and Christmas Eve at our house. Christmas dinner with the Brandt's at our house and then we were off to Florida. We stopped in Macon, Georgia on the way (I remember walking an old neighborhood on a cool late December evening), toured an antebellum mansion the next morning, saw the "Cannonball House" (a cannonball embedded in an outside well, a salute from General Sherman's army as they passed by in 1864 on their march to the sea). In Florida we stayed with Laura's mother in Zephyr Hills, took a trip to Florida Southern College (Lakeland) to see the Frank Lloyd Wright architecture, up to Dade City one evening with Laura's mother and her Aunt Kate to see the Christmas lights (at the Sleepy Hollow mobile home park, many folks remove their decorations the day after Christmas), and spent a quiet New Year's Eve at Sleepy Hollow (a few sounds of distant revelry) where midnight is past bedtime for most of these folks. 1999: Last year of the 20th century. When I was younger (much younger) I have little thought of that faraway time but now, someone born, say in 2010, will give little thought to another faraway time, the previous century, especially the last year of that ancient past. Now it's January 1st of a new year, where we were in Zephyrhills, Florida and Laura's mother made a New Year's dinner, Aunt Kate was here and we played a game of Scrabble. Thus, began the last year of the 20th century. Back in Cincinnati, beginning the mid-winter routine including rehearsals with the Martin Luther King Choral and a concert at Music Hall, Symphony concerts at Music Hall and Keyboard Club Sundays. We did go to Ed and Anne Daly's in Mariemont for dinner and Pastor Johnson had a Super Bowl party at his place in Northern Kentucky. In February, we bought new covers for the Knoll "Betoria" chairs (the old covers were starting to disintegrate) and in March we did the 10K Heartwalk. April: Another trip to Florida, not to be missed, it was for the 80th birthday of Laura's mother (at the time, 80 seemed to be really old). On the way down, we stopped at Andersonville Prison National Historic Site, a notorious Civil War prisoner of war camp where some 13,000 Union captives died of disease, privation and starvation. The stockade has been partially rebuilt, enclosing what was once just bare ground with no shelters of any kind, and we visited the cemetery where soldiers were buried by State, where, surprisingly, the largest number, by far, were from Tennessee, a reminder that east Tennessee, for the most part, remained loyal to the union. We had a grand birthday party at the Sleepy Hollow mobile home park in Zephyrhills. Dave and Sue, with Jamie and Dan, were there from Michigan. Aunt Kate from just across the road, Kate's granddaughter, Karin Lloyd (Laura's second cousin) who lived in Zephyrhills, Jess and Hilda Weaver (old friends from Michigan who had a winter home in Zephyrhills), plus several older ladies from the park. We also went out for a birthday dinner at a restaurant in Lakeland. On the way home, we stopped for gas in southern Georgia where we noticed a lot of people gathered at a TV in the gas station (it was April 20, 1999, the day of the Columbine High School massacre) and also on the way back we took a side trip to Rome, Georgia as Laura wanted to see the Martha Berry Museum, her home and the College gardens (Martha Berry began teaching children in a one-room log cabin in the late 1800s and the school eventually developed into Berry College). May: The warm weather season begins and we went to Michigan for Jamie Goodell's high school graduation, Bill Schilke and Dagmar were here for a May Festival weekend, next weekend Tex Zimmel's wedding (probably last time to see many of the old Pavilion gang) and then the first weekend in June Laura and I had an open house party to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. There were many guests from the 1984 event (Bob and Charlotte Hullinger - he was the pastor who married us, Conrad and Judy - Conrad was an usher, George and Karen Nielsen, Rob and Jan Pipes, Erich and Melinda Zwertschek, Larry and Sarah Pockrass, Bill and Teri Wilson) plus many new friends which made it a truly great anniversary celebration. Conrad and Judy were here the next weekend so we went to the ballpark for a Red's game, and the following Saturday Laura and I went to one of our favorite operas, Mozart's Don Giovanni. At this time, there was also an unfortunate happening as after an internal dispute, Laura was no longer employed at the university of Cincinnati Arlitt Center. At the end of June, we were at the Ravinia Festival Chicago to see Timora which I wrote about this in my Chicago memoir. July: World Piano Competition time: Kensi Yamaguchi arrived on July 8 and although he considered himself Japanese, he had studied in Berlin for many years. The following Saturday we had a backyard picnic with Ed and Anne Daly, their kids and Kensi where I told Kensi I had trouble distinguishing between people who were Japanese, Chinese and Korean whereas Kensi scoffed "Of course I can tell the difference". Later, as we were driving past the campus, we saw a female Asian student, dressed in typical American coed fashion and I asked Kensi "Is she Japanese, Chinese or Korean?". Kensi paused, then thoughtfully answered "With young girls it's hard to tell.". One of the judges for the young competitors group was Japanese, Keiko Alexander (she was married to an American) so she invited us, Kensi, and a Japanese man who was a judge for the primary competition, to her home for a traditional Japanese dinner - the Japanese gentleman was very formal (we noticed that he and Keiko never made eye contact) - the meal was delicious, with many courses of Japanese food (the Japanese judge, noticing that Keiko's piano was piled with music scores, said that this was not a proper way to treat a musical instrument). Kensi said that the judge spoke a very strange Japanese and we found out later that he had been working in Berlin for many years and that all his competition notes were written in German. After dinner, we all went to a concert at Riverbend where it was a hot, humid night but the Japanese judge kept his dark wool suit on the whole time. The next morning, we dashed up to Columbus for the wedding of Michelle Murdock and Randy Clark (they met while students at the University of Dayton). Michelle is a tiny girl and Randy is a big guy, so they made an interesting couple. The reception was at a downtown hotel, and all the Murdocks were there (parents John and Karen, plus William and Michael), Dave and Sue Goodell, Jamie and Dan from Michigan, so it was sort of a family reunion (Laura and I were seated at a table with Karen's brother, Carl Holstein, and his wife, Sharon Holstein, as remote as possible from Karen, as Karen and Carl were not on speaking terms). We had to be back in Cincinnati on Monday to see Kensi Yamaguchi off. Kensi had won a small prize so wanted to go to California as he heard there were many "real" Japanese speakers there but I told him he didn't have enough money for a round trip to the West Coast, so he opted for a quick weekend in Chicago (while we were in Columbus). Unfortunately he encountered no Japanese speakers (the clerk at one shop, Kensi chagrined "I know he was Japanese, but he would speak to me only in English.") so a disappointed Mr. Yamaguchi returned to Berlin. End of July Jose and Tammy Quishpe had a high school graduation party for daughter Amanda and she had a University of Dayton scholarship. August: A big event for me (Laura was a quiet observer), as it was the 50th reunion of the Sioux City East High School Class of 1949, which was actually a double reunion, the midyear class who graduated in January (my class) and the much larger June class. Because Laura had a job interview Friday morning August 6, a stop in Iowa City to visit Dick Runge and Brownie, and a monumental rainstorm in Western Iowa (the highway was shut down for more than an hour), we did not arrive in Sioux City until long after midnight (too late for the initial welcoming party). The affair was at the Hamilton Inn, a motel near downtown and first thing on the agenda Saturday morning was a visit to the alma mater, East High School in Morningside, an interesting and architecturally significant 1920's building (which, unfortunately, was torn down a few years later - asbestos problem). I began encountering old classmates and most of the guys I recognized, but the "girls" were middle aged ladies, who, I was certain, that I had never seen before (as Laura said "Jerry didn't recognize them, but they all knew Jerry"). Peters Park was starting to look a bit dilapidated and deserted but fortunately, my brother Ken and his new wife, Ann, were in town so they, Laura and I, together with Gordon and Audrey Henry (Gordon was in '49 June Class) went to lunch at a restaurant north of downtown. Ken and I visited the old house at 4016 4th Avenue which looked much the same and boyhood memories returned. I connected with several people I hadn't seen in 50 years who were mostly retired, some divorced and remarried, not many still in Sioux City, as Texas, Colorado and the West Coast seemed to be the choice for either career or retirement (I was the only person from "back east" in my class). A few of my classmates that went with me to the University of Iowa in '49 were there including Richard Koelling, Jerry Stone (still working part time as a geologist) and Karl Scheld (we joined a fraternity together our freshman year). I jokingly said to Karl that I was still working "as I hadn't yet accumulated a million dollars in my investment portfolio" and then Karl, who was with the Federal Reserve for many years, and then in academia, gave me a look as if to say why wouldn't one have a million dollars in investments? There was a banquet that evening with Bob Eidsmoe as the MC (Bob, '49 June Class, was one of the few who remained in Sioux City, becoming a successful lawyer). I had a conversation with Pat Pentony as it seems she and I were at Iowa State at the same time, she in married student housing, I at the fraternity (very different lives) and I also met briefly with Mary Lou Head remembering that we were in kindergarten class together at Washington School. The next morning it was all over as the East High School Class of 1949 had vanished with one lone soul, Jim Wanned ('49 June Class), still wandering the empty corridors. Laura and I toured the nearby Riverboat Museum and had lunch with Ken and Ann at a restaurant on lower 4th St (lower 4th was now a 'historic district' and the once grand vista of 4th Street, as it ran west from the Floyd River, through downtown, to where it turned at the base of Prospect Hill, was gone, interrupted by a 1980's hotel/shopping mall "urban renewal" project). That afternoon we went to the Sioux City Art Center, a new building near the river, an impressive cultural center for a small city and hat evening we had dinner at the Green Gables restaurant (a Sioux City establishment going back many years) with Ken, Ann, and Ann's parents, Roy and Helen Jorgensen from Vermillion, South Dakota (about 30 miles west of Sioux City), and then we all went to Grandview Park (another Sioux City icon) hoping there would be a concert at the Bandshell (not that Sunday evening). Next morning, Monday, August 9th, we began another epic journey, driving northeast to Minneapolis/St. Paul. I had driven this way many, many times over the years (1956-1966) so I knew every bend, crossroads and bridge, every town and hamlet in that part of northwest Iowa and southern Minnesota. Those were happy times (I'm not sure Marie enjoyed the long drive), for a while it seemed each year we went with a new baby. In Minnesota Laura and I took Interstates from Worthington to the Twin Cities (these Interstate highways didn't exist when I last made the journey) where we spent the night in St. Paul with Mark and Rhoda Schuler and as they bought a house on Marshall Avenue directly across from the Concordia University campus, Rhoda took us on a tour of the campus (Mark was on the faculty) showing us many new buildings which was quite a change from when Concordia was an all-male pre-seminary college. Next day we did a quick tour of the Twin Cities including the Delt House at 1717 University Avenue (where I spent two idyllic summers, '56 and '57), the University Weisman Art Museum (architect Frank Gehry), Como Park flower gardens, house a 1384 Raymond Avenue (memories, bright and dark). Last day in St. Paul we had lunch with Jerry Mundt (my old classmate from Iowa State) and his wife Diane, and then we were off to Wisconsin, where we stayed at the home of Mary and Don Mueller in Bonduel. One evening the Muellers hosted a mini Froehlich (Froelich/Frohlich) family reunion - my cousin Dolores and her husband Alvin Schroeder, her brother Keith Froelich and his wife Jeanette, and Lorenz Froelich's daughter, Connie Holewinski, so together with Laura and me, it was the largest gathering of this family in some time. On August 13, we began the next leg of our journey which was to Michigan but rather than taking the long drive around the Upper Peninsula we decided to take a car ferry from Manitowoc, Wisconsin, across Lake Michigan, to Ludington, Michigan. On the way, we stopped in Green Bay where I called another old classmate from Iowa State, Jim Schlueter (Jim was in the process of closing his office, soon to retire and he told me that Willy's wife, Lillian, had recently died, all depressing news, for had so many years gone by?). The day was sunny and the lake was calm when we loaded our car onto the ferry (S.S. Badger) at Manitowoc, but a short distance into the lake a storm began to brew and not just a passing storm, but a fierce gale, with torrents of rain, high winds and towering waves (even the regular lake commuters were uneasy) and Laura and I chose to stay on the top deck rather than venture into the crowded, seasick misery of the lower decks. The captain turned northeast, heading into the storm so as to lessen the roll and pitch of the ship, but unfortunately that put us far to the north of our destination, so as we neared the shore there was an abrupt turn to the south, the yaw of which was so great we thought the ship was about to capsize. When the ship reached Ludington in late afternoon the sun was out and the storm had passed. From Ludington, we drove about 130 miles northeast to Dave and Sue's cabin (in Michigan, folks go "up north" for vacations, weekends and holidays) where Laura's mother was there for the week. Dave had made several improvements, so the place was quite livable, and together with a large piece of land and woods, it was very isolated (which Dave and Sue loved) but I noticed that evenings when we sat in the yard, the distant sound of an approaching car would put an end to this solitude until the gravel road clatter faded away (and this was a frequent occurrence). One day we drove to nearby Lovells, Michigan, a hamlet where Sue's mother, Jean Chall, bought a log building which housed a shop selling an amazing array of lures and other fishing gear, and a collection of quality clothing, moccasins and jewelry (for the wives of the fisherman), and where she lived in an attached apartment. After a few days, we began the long trek south, the end of our multistate adventure, and by August 16 we were back in Cincinnati. A photo arrived by mail showing the East High School reunion group, but for the most part these people were strangers, unless it was someone who I saw occasionally, if I did have a memory, it was as that person was 50 years ago in Sioux City. I then realized, sadly, that all the young girls that attracted me through the years were now middle-aged women (some perhaps no longer living) for as the saying goes, "time is cruel and relentless." September 1999: A month of change. After more than 33 years at A.M. Kinney I started a new job at KZF (more details in my work memoir), and Laura began as director of a Montesorri preschool/kindergarten in Kennedy Heights (a racially, culturally and economically mixed neighborhood in northern Cincinnati. George Nielsen arranged a dinner get-together with Hugo Rooman, Erich Zwertschek and myself at Nicolas, an up-scale Italian restaurant in Over-the-Rhine. We were longtime AMK compatriots (Hugo and Erich had retired, I had moved to KZF) but it was the last time the four of us would see each other together. Laura and I also did a quick weekend trip to Michigan to bring summer to close. Autumn was the start of another season and the usual activities including Keyboard, MLK chorale rehearsals, symphony concerts, etc., but a sad note - the Daly's (Ed, Anne and kids) were gone as Ed had taken a position at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. There were parties at Wayne Meyer's house in Clifton, Hans Liebenau's birthday at Grace Lutheran in Westwood, and another at Jeff Brandt's house high above Over-the-Rhine. An Israeli clarinet player, Adi Zekcher, came to Cincinnati to audition for an open position at the Symphony and he stayed with us for several days but the sound of clarinet practicing can be grating after awhile. Adi did not make it into the Symphony Competition for this orchestra can be fierce with 80 clarinet players vying for this position). Chuck and Chyrl Brandt were here for Thanksgiving dinner. Christmas season: We did the usual tree and decorations in front room even though we would be away for much of the season. Christmas dinner at the West Side home of Charlie and Caroline Fehr, with Charlie's Aunt, sister of his late mother. Charlie and his mother had lived in this house for many years, so most of the furnishings, the artificial tree, the Christmas decorations were all from that time which was a bit stifling somehow. On Monday, December 27, we began our final journey of the 20th Century, first to Charlotte, NC, to see John and Karen Murdock, then down to Wilmington, NC, to visit Kirt and Natalie Hutchinson (Natalie was obsessed with their dog "Toby"), and where Kirt had bought a large oil painting (probably painted in the early 1900s), a strange and somewhat disturbing depiction of a Middle Eastern caravan. On the evening of December 29, Laura and I arrived at the Sleepy Hollow mobile home park in Zephyrhills where nothing much changed and as it was a few days after Christmas, many of the Christmas decorations (plastic and foam Santas, reindeer, artificial trees with artificial snow, garish lights) had already been taken down, as that seemed to be the custom for many of these "snowbirds" (the decorations would go up immediately after Thanksgiving), but it was pleasant to be back in the familiar surroundings of Laura's mother's place. There was much anxiety (promoted especially on TV news programs) about what might happen with the change from the 20th to the 21st century because of all the computer and electronic systems so there were warnings not to be on elevators, airplanes, or public transportation at the stroke of midnight. Michael Murdock stopped by with a friend who was on his way to New Year's celebrations in Miami, and wanted to be certain that he would be on a flight at midnight (he was sure that there would be some sort of special happening). Laura's mother had a New Year's Eve party, only a small group consisting of Aunt Kate, Jess and Hilda Weaver. It was just another quiet New Year's Eve in Zephyrhills, the end of the 20th century (no catastrophes on land, sea or air). LAST HURRAH I started working at KZF Design (originally Kral, Zepf and Freitag) on September 7, 1999, where their offices were on the top floors of the Baldwin Building on Gilbert Avenue just west of Eden park (at one time, before it was remodeled into an office building, the Baldwin Building was the manufacturing home for Baldwin Pianos, premier keyboard instruments, now virtually extinct). The view looking south was spectacular (overlooking the downtown to the distant hills of Kentucky) and I had the good fortune of getting a desk near the south facing windows. In addition to Bill Wilson, who was primarily responsible for my move to KZF, there were other former colleagues from AMK including Wayne Wheeler, Bob Schmitz, Steve Campbell and Chester Lewis. There were about 25 in the architectural group and one of the architects, Dan Groene (also a fellow Lutheran) had a young son just enrolled in the Kennedy Heights Montessori Center, where Laura had taken a job as the new director. After a brief orientation period, I was asked to work at the Northern Kentucky office. KZF had opened a new office in Covington (just across the river and near Mainstrasse, a 20 minute drive from Clifton) politically required to get a large Federal prison project in Eastern Kentucky (the"Big Sandy" prison) where they desperately needed help with architectural detailing, specifications, hardware schedules and various other mundane tasks. The project was under construction and every few weeks another phase of the work had to be issued for bidding, and one week, on an overcast winter day, I followed Duane Singleton, the KZF construction supervisor, on a wild drive to Big Sandy prison for an inspection of the work. Generally, I was at the Kentucky office 4 days each week and back at the Cincinnati office on Fridays (late afternoons in winter I remember great flocks of ravens coming into the warmth of the city from the countryside, roosting in the trees of Eden Park, an unforgettable sight). The culture at KZF was much more informal than at AMK, a bit raucous at times, much like the early days at Hammel and Green in St. Paul. Laura and I went to the KZF Christmas party and at that time the "social chairman" was a lady obsessed with gambling so she hired a firm who set up a complete gambling hall with a roulette wheel, black jack tables, etc. (fake money but real prizes). It was quite an experience. I became friends with George Kral when I found out he was originally from central Nebraska, actually not far from Sioux City. George was in his 80's but still came to the office very day (Zepf was dead, Bill Freitag had been ousted in some sort of internal power struggle although I knew Freitag through the AIA). I asked George how he happened to be in Cincinnati which is a long way from the Nebraska prairie and he told me his story. His parents were Czech immigrants with a struggling farm and little money (this was during the 1930's Great Depression) and the small high school George attended had a scholarship to the University of Nebraska, awarded to the top student of each senior class. George was a good student, but there was one boy who ranked higher and thus received the scholarship so George was certain that he would have no chance of going on to college. The school principal, a kindly man, knew how disappointed George was, called him into his office, and told him there was a college that had a co-op program where one could work part-time, earning enough money for part-time classes, tuition, and expenses. That college was in Cincinnati, Ohio. By the summer of 2000, I was back in the Cincinnati office (Baldwin Building) working on various projects including major renovations at the Cincinnati Art Museum, new dormitories at the University, a major project at the University campus consisting of a student recreation center with basketball/volleyball courts, running track, swimming pools and exercise rooms, plus classrooms, a dormitory, cafeteria and a new seating section at the north end of the football stadium, and a major renovation of the Covington Basilica( a controversial project because of the altar relocation) where I was involved during most of 2000 through 2001. The Covington Basilica is a huge structure, modelled after the Reims Cathedral (except the towers were never built to full height), with 3 pipe organs and the largest stained glass window in North America (north transept), built in the early 1900's by a newly appointed Irish archbishop who could not abide the existing cathedral, Mutter Gotteskirche, built in German Baroque style, late 1800's, by the largely German Catholic population of Covington (my great-grandmother, Kathrina Bezler, worked as a housemaid for a short time in Covington, but left as there were so few German Lutherans); exterior stone work was cleaned and repainted, flashings replaced, roof repaired, stained glass windows cleaned and repaired (exterior and interior), elaborate wood screen (probably from 1920's) removed from chancel, wood confessionals removed, toilet rooms enlarged to accommodate the crowds of tourists, and a large baptismal pool added at the entrance. A retirement party was held for Wayne Wheeler in April, 2000 (another old friend fading away). A group of us would take noontime walks through Eden Park and Mount Adams (mostly from the architectural and civil/structural group as the mechanical and electrical types preferred staying in the office to play video games). We also formed a "dive club" in which on Wednesday noon we would go out to a "dive' (of which there were many in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky) for lunch. Mike Smith (architectural spec writer) had a classic description of a "dive": A group goes into a small restaurant, sitting at a table and when the server comes to take orders, one of group asks if he could have his water in a clean glass so the server returns with a tray of glasses and says "O.K., which one of you guys asked for a clean glass?". "That," Mike said "is a dive". There were 6 or 8 of us in the "dive club" (the females had soon dropped out, saying that the women's restrooms in most dives were "gross"). KZF had another large Federal prison project in Hazelton, West Virginia (Robert Byrd, a powerful member of the Senate from West Virginia, steered many Federal projects to his home state). Hazelton was a small settlement in a far northeast corner of West Virginia, only a few miles from the Maryland border and the top of a mountain had to be removed to create a site for the prison. Duane Singleton was the designated construction supervisor, but because he was still involved in completing the Big Sandy prison, and because I had worked on the Big Sandy project (which was very similar to Hazelton), I was asked to temporarily take over as construction supervisor at Hazelton. This was in January of 2002. I soon had established a routine, leaving very early on a Monday morning, driving up I-71 to south of Columbus, picking up I-70 east across Ohio through Wheeling, West Virginia into Pennsylvania, south on I-79 to Morgantown, West Virginia, then east on I-68, arriving at the site shortly after noon and retracing the same route, I would leave Thursday afternoon, and be back in Cincinnati that night so as to be in the office on Fridays. The first few weeks I stayed in a motel in Morgantown until Duane found an apartment in Morgantown (tiny Hazelton had no motels). A construction management firm from Pittsburg was in overall charge of construction and they pushed a rigorous schedule, keeping me very busy. I usually brought in something for a quick lunch but occasionally I would join the group for a noon meal at the only restaurant in the area, a noisy little place serving mostly construction workers and truckers but the menu was limited, usually an open-faced sandwich, consisting of 2 slices of white bread, topped with pork or beef, a mound of mashed potatoes, all covered with a generous ladling of hot gravy (light color for the pork, dark for the beef). It was fast, cheap and filling. The construction managers had erected a village of temporary buildings, housing offices for the various contractors, consultants and supervisors (my office was in one of those buildings) and it was a twisting, bumpy ride further up the mountain to the construction site (4-whieel drive vehicles required). The prison itself was huge with a dining hall, food storage and prep areas, gymnasium, chapel, workshops, library, common rooms, hundreds of individual cells, and a separate high security wing for dangerous inmates. A few things I learned about Federal prison practices, such as guards in direct contact with inmates are never armed, and every few months, guards are moved to other areas of the prison (or to other prisons) as the guards, who generally are not mental giants, would soon be manipulated by some of the cleverer inmates. By the end of April, I was back full-time in Cincinnati, working on various projects and doing building code compliance reviews for other projects, one of them being the Taft Museum for which KZF did the new parking garage and all the structural, mechanical and electrical work for the new addition and renovation (Ann Beha, Boston was the design architect) and for which I did the code and building permit work. Another project was the Contemporary Art Center with Zaha Hadid as the building designer, KZF was the architect of recordand for which I was involved in drawing prep, code and permit work. 2 architects from Zaha's London office (both Americans) came to Cincinnati as part of the shared work agreement (they dressed completely in black per the dress code of the London office) and every few weeks a senior architect would come from London to oversee progress. He was Iranian (dressed in black of course) and always after arrival spent the first hour on the phone, speaking in rapid German (in a loud high-pitched voice) which I thought was rather odd as Zaha's office was in London. One of his colleagues explained that he was speaking to his mother in Berlin. Another project was the Lawrenceburg, Indiana fire station, which, with the advent of casino gambling in this small city, money started flowing in, the city fathers decided to spend some of it on a new fire station and as designed by KZF, the new station had a second level which had only mechanical equipment spaces and an exercise room for use by the firefighters. This level was accessible by stair but also had a fire pole down to the engine bay. All building permits in the State of Indiana must be approved and issued by the State Building Department in Indianapolis and they ruled that fire poles not only were not in compliance with the building code but that fire poles were inherently dangerous. I presented our design to the State Fire Marshall who stated that all fire stations must have a fire pole, regardless of whether or not they had a practical function and on December 3, 2002, I had to appear before the Building Department in Indianapolis to request a variance (exemption) to the language of the code. The variance was approved and we got the permit. By early 2003 the work load at KZF was in steep decline but I kept busy writing a new code manual for the office and going out with Jon Bennett (head of the KZF design/build outreach) to give code seminars at various contractor and developer offices until finally, in March, I was "farmed out" to Jacobs Engineering in Forest Park. Jacobs had a large pharmaceutical project for Abbot in Puerto Rico and a very tight schedule so they desperately needed someone to adapt the Abbot drawing and spec standards to this project and to write new spec sections for which there were no Abbot standards. Some background: In the 1980s a group from AMK (John Hermann, Gary Gentzler, Roy McGuire, Vern Schnabel, and others) broke away to found a new A-E firm which they named Camargo. This firm was very successful, and in the late 1990's Camargo was purchased by Jacobs, a large, national A-E firm (none of the original Camargo founders were still at Jacobs) and a number of AMK people had moved to Camargo/Jacobs over the years, among them George Brabender, now a project manager, and recently returned from Ireland. I ran into him one day, noticed he was much older, graying hair, but still with the same mischievous grin. "George," I said jokingly, "I thought you were dead" whereupon he replied "Somethings are worse than death" (he said he was thinking of retiring soon). Also, working temporarily at Jacobs, there was Peter Refuse, never robust, now a gaunt figure, often standing alone outside, smoking (smoking was not allowed in the building). At the end of June, I had finished my work at Jacobs and was back at KZF where work was still very slow, there was major downsizing and I had little to do. July 18, 2003, I retired and this was my last day at KZF. Sue Shinkle, who worked mostly with architectural specifications at KZF, and a victim of the downsizing, decided to start a restaurant in Georgetown, Ohio, where her mother lived (Georgetown, the county seat of Brown County, is nearly 20 miles from downtown Cincinnati). Sue, a very ambitious young woman, bought an old building in the center of town and started doing much of the renovation work by herself, but she needed a building permit, and with that, a set of drawings. In September 2003, I helped her put together the required drawings, including a site plan and constructions details, and we met with the Brown County Building Commissioner to get the necessary permits. Sue had no money to pay me for my work, but promised a full dinner, with drinks and dessert, for Laura and me, at her new restaurant, which she named "The Alley Cat Café". We never made it to Georgetown, and sadly, that small city apparently wasn't ready for an upscale restaurant and bar, so Sue had to close the place in 2008, sell the building and auction off all the furnishings and equipment. Dick Hird, formerly the structural spec writer at AMK and who now had his own consulting business, called several times to persuade me to join an AMK alumni group which would meet for breakfast the first Monday of every month at the Bob Evans restaurant on Montgomery Road in Kenwood so finally, on December 1, 2003, I went to my first gathering of this group which I called "the Old Guys Breakfast", (originally there were 15 or 16 regular attendees). Chris Shekro would call me without fail on the Saturday before each meeting as a reminder (Chris had been an electrical engineer at AMK and after retiring had set up an office in his basement, complete with drafting board, catalogues and electrical manuals and during the breakfasts his conversation inevitably turned to past electrical engineering projects). Chris grew up in Over-the-Rhine in the 1930s when it was a white, working class neighborhood and where his parents were Macedonian Slav emigrants who hated and feared Muslims. The language of his parents was virtually unknown in Cincinnati so Chris was astonished when he heard two girls at the Coney Island swimming pool conversing in Macedonian Slav (one of these girls became his wife). Several of the "old guys" were veterans of WWII and one of the most interesting was Doug Beers, a process engineer at AMK, who grew up in Maine/New Hampshire, where his widowed mother remarried and Doug's stepfather sent Doug to Iowa State in Ames, Iowa, as that was his stepfather's college (quite a change for someone who had never left New England). This was in the late 1930s and the compulsory ROTC artillery unit still had horse drawn French 75's of WWI vintage, one horse team pulling the gun, another the caisson with each team having 2 riders and Doug was one of these riders. During WWII Doug was in an armored engineering unit ("we cleared mine fields, blew up obstacles and repaired bridges, sometimes under fire"). After the war in Europe he was stationed in a small German city on the River Main, preparing for landings on Kyushu, which thanks to Hiroshima/Nagasaki never happened. After the war Doug married a Midwestern woman from a prominent family who were major donors for the carillon bells at the Iowa State campanile and each summer the family would gather for a meeting at the campanile. Joe Matthews, a retired accountant, was a regular, usually the first one there (I was usually one of the last ones to arrive), lived downtown so as to never miss a game of his beloved Reds. Glen Caldwell, a retired mechanical engineer, was a good old farm boy from Kansas and by tradition always told a joke at the end of each meeting. Bob Wier who even after the onset of dementia never tired of telling about his days as head of the mechanical department at AMK (he died March, 2010). I would pick up Erich Zwertschek at his retirement home, Scarlet Oaks in Clifton. (Erich died January 2010, "Ich hatt' einen Kameraden"). Sam Fang, process engineer, never missed a meeting until he got very old was born in China but family was Christian so had to flee in '49 with the communist takeover (Sam died in 2013). George Brabender and Gary Gentzler were frequent attendees. Dick Hird's eyesight was failing so he could no longer drive and Chris Shekro called me in 2013 saying he was having a problem walking and likely would no longer be coming. The group gradually dwindled until there were usually only 5 or 6. Finally in May of 2014, Doug Beers and I were the only ones present and then in June and July I was alone (Barbara, who had been our waitress for many years, said "Where are all your guys?"). I was not going to be the last man of a "last man club", so July 2014 was the end of the "old guy" breakfasts for me. In early October 2006, I was putting in storm windows on the west side of the house when Dave Stoll, who was still at AMK, came walking up, asking if I was interested in doing some consulting work. AMK had a joint project with Process Plus, a firm in Forest Park, to do a pharmaceutical production plan for a building being renovated and they needed someone with pharmaceutical experience to do a preliminary design and cost estimate. I thought, why not, so I spent most of October at the office of Process Plus where not surprisingly I encountered several former AMK people. Early 2009, I got a call from Jim Bartley, managing director of AMK, saying they had a major project with the Veteran's Administration for reroofing several buildings at their hospital/rehab facility in Dayton, Ohio. It was an immense project and AMK desperately needed someone with roofing experience for design and detailing work and specifications. On February 12, 2009, I signed an agreement to work with AMK as an independent contractor so it was "old home week" when I returned to AMK with George Nielsen as head of the architectural group (but spent most of his time in Lexington on a construction management project), Dave Stoll, ever loyal and now a senior project architect (Dave lived alone, restoring an 1813 farmhouse in rural Southeast Indiana), Larry Humpert, architect/project manager, had left AMK to start his own firm in Northern Kentucky, now back at AMK, John Schickner, now head of the small mechanical department (John and I had worked together on many, many projects), John Gravelle, an unflappable cost estimator, also responsible for organizing specifications (Laura and I took care of his cat "Pita" many years ago), and a most pleasant surprise, Bob Preslar, recently retired from G.E., back in the U.S. and hired by AMK as project manager for the V.A. project (Bob and I worked and traveled together many times over the years). I began work immediately, many trips up to Dayton to familiarize myself with the project. Some buildings were very large, others quite small, some only 10 years old, others 70 or 80 years old, some with flat built-up roofs over concrete, others with shingles over steeply pitched wooden structures. Some roofs were covered with mechanical equipment (which could not be moved or shut down) and there were sky lights, vents and chimneys. All roofing and insulation had to be removed and replaced, flat roofs properly sloped, roof drains added, relocated or removed, nearly all flashings replaced, and roof drainage brought into compliance with modern codes so this work kept me busy for many months. One Monday morning when I came in there was a somber air about the place and several of the women were in tears as it had just been announced that John Gravelle had died of a heart attack that weekend (he was only in his 50's). By late 2009, most of the roofing project was finished and I thought I was finished, but not yet as something completely new and different came up. AMK was selected for another project for the V.A. in Dayton, consisting of interior renovations for several areas of their main hospital building so once again I was attending client meetings, developing details and writing specifications, but it was much more enjoyable work (no more trudging through snow and freezing rain), selecting carpets, laminated and wall coverings, plus coordinating colors and materials. This work went on for several months, until early spring this project also came to an end so April 13, 2010 was my final day at AMK. It had been nearly 54 years from my Iowa State graduation with an architectural degree. 54 years of uninterrupted work in the profession (except for vacations and a few sick days) so it was probably a good run. I should mention that at first I missed going to work as it was just a short city bus ride from Clifton to downtown, and working downtown (I started my career in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota) is what I really missed, especially long walks on the city sidewalks during lunch breaks. That last day I packed my briefcase and took a city bus up the hill to Clifton which was the final goodbye to a long career. Postscript: Hammel, Green and Abrahamson moved to downtown Minneapolis, changed the name to HGA, and became a national architectural sensation, KZF in 2011 moved from the Baldwin Building to a well-designed building renovation in downtown Cincinnati and managed to survive the devastating 2010-2013 downturn in architectural work. AMK continued to decline and by 2014, the firm's architectural group ceased to exist. TWENTY FIRST CENTURY Originally, I intended to end this memoir December 31, 1999, but as I thought about it, much happened in the following years (although earlier I wrote about my architectural career and, separately, Chicago happenings which extended well into the 21st century). I've also taken quite a hiatus in memoir writing (it is now the Spring of 2015) so getting back to the year 2000 is a challenge. Laura and I have lived in this big old house for nearly 31 years (we celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary last summer with an open house party) but now the days are getting longer so must begin readying house and yard for summer. Crocus along our front walk bloomed last week, so there were memories of the last time Marie and I were together at crocus time many years ago. Often, suddenly, find myself thinking about events and friends from long ago, such as college days, Minneapolis/St. Paul and especially boyhood days in Sioux City where I have a vivid memory of the Ruby house on Paxton in Cecelia Park (north edge of Morningside), Gordon Ruby, "Gordie" a close friend from church, his parents Carl and Ruth, sister Ruth Ann, Carl's practical jokes and soft mischievous laughter, and his basement carpentry shop, Gordie's photography hobby and darkroom, his mother's Norwegian pastries, and gemütlich dinner evenings. They are all gone now, and I'm probably the only one who remembers that house on Paxton (my brother Ken, was too young). So, enough nostalgia and back to year 2000. New Year's dinner with Laura's mother and Aunt Kate in Zephyr Hills. None of the horrific millennium events predicted by the doomsayers happened (planes falling from the sky, elevators speeding out of control, etc.). By January 4th we were back in Cincinnati, immersed in usual mid-winter activities including MLK Chorale rehearsals, Chorale performance at Music Hall on Martin Luther King Day, Keyboard Club, Symphony, and Pastor Johnson's Super Bowl party at his place in Northern Kentucky. Laura left her job at the Kennedy Heights/Montessori Center but was soon working at Cincilingua, a private school downtown specializing in teaching/improving spoken English for adult foreign students and immigrants. February 18, we were in Brownsburg for a busy weekend which meant dinner with Liisa and Hung on Friday, Indianapolis Symphony Saturday night, an after concert get together with Bill and Dagmar, Charles and Rosemary Rader, Sunday baptism at Messiah Lutheran Church for Jonathan, (Liisa and Hung's firstborn), followed by a luncheon at their home in Avon (we stayed with the Schilke's, Avon is just south of Brownsburg). Winter had ended so Laura and I decided it was time for another Paris trip. After the annual 10K Heartwalk (downtown Cincinnati) we were on our way, arriving in Paris March 29. Delta was still flying into Orly but by then we knew the bus lines to our Left Bank destination. Unfortunately, the familiar Hotel Sorbonne was booked for that period, but we found a room in a nearby area, Hotel de Bresil, top floor, no elevator (Sigmund Freud stayed here in 1885). A few days strolling and savoring this part of Paris (Boulevard Saint-Germain, St. Sulpice, Arc de Triumphe, Musee d'Orsay, Place de la Concorde, and, of course, Place de la Constrescapre). One day we decided to go out to Fountainbleau (southeast of Paris) to see the Chateau which meant a subway to Gare de Lyon, a train to the outskirts of Fountainbleau, and finally a bus through town and out to the Chateau. At some point a group of teenagers got on the bus (probably ages 14 or 15) who had a radio and were loudly acting up. We were not certain where to get off, saw a street sign that read "Chateau Boulevard" and got up to leave, when one of the teenagers, a boy, stood before us and announced in very correct English "This not the stop for the Chateau. The Chateau stop is much further". The Chateau stop was indeed much further so that young gentleman saved us a very long walk. The Chateau, originally a 12th century hunting lodge, was enlarged and rebuilt many times over the next centuries, with a magnificent gallery and ballroom, a favorite of Napoleon and Empress Josephine. Napoleon said a final farewell to his army (after Waterloo) from the entrance stairs (Cour des Adieux). Back in Paris that evening we went to a concert at Salle Pleyel (a major concert hall) - Music Hall in Cincinnati is a much more elegant space, I thought, and the Cincinnati Symphony was much superior to the Orchestre de Paris. Saturday, we were off to see our friends in Versailles, Claude and Jacqueline Barbazanges (subway to Gare St.-Lazare, train to Versailles, Gare St. Lazare not much changed from the Monet painting) for a wonderful visit and dinner in the beautiful Barbazanges apartment and Saturday evening a pipe organ concert at St. Eustache. Early Sunday morning I listened to Bach on a pipe organ coming from a nearly empty church near the Pantheon and later Laura and I strolled the Luxembourg Gardens which were in full bloom with spring flowers. Sunday afternoon we did a quick tour of the Louvre and finally spent a quiet evening on Ile de la Cite where Notre Dame sat in stately silence without the crowds of tourists, and the bird market was closing. Monday morning, we were off to the airport for a flight to Cincinnati. A curious happening at d'Orsay: An aside of our Paris trip occurred at the d'Orsay Museum which has a fine collection of paintings that Laura and I rarely missed. On this visit, we went to the restrooms at a lower level on the south end and the French, not being fastidious about such things, had no doors at these restrooms so one could easily look inside where the women's room, as usual, was crowded and with a long line. As I waited in the hall for Laura, an attractive young woman came down the stair, looked at the long line at the women's room, then walked into the men's room, standing just inside but with eyes averted as there were men at the urinals (the urinals were just out of sight, the stalls were further inside). I heard the men exclaim loudly (in English, possibly an Israeli accent) "Excuse me! This is a men's restroom! This is a restroom for men!" There was no response from the young woman and when our 3 heroes emerged from the restroom, she walked back to the stalls. As the men went up the stair I heard one of them say "Perhaps she was really a man who looked like a woman" so I've often wondered who these guys were and why they spoke English in that unusual accent. Spring and summer of 2000 were very busy with trips to Michigan, Laura to Columbus for a conference, met the French ambassador at a reception (he was in Cincinnati to promote additional Delta flights to Paris). Bill and Dagmar were here for May Festivals, and as this was the summer of the "Big Pig Gig", there were hundreds of fiberglass pigs, decorated and reconfigured, throughout the downtown and environs beyond ("Swine Lake", a group of dancing pigs at the ballet theatre, "Andy Warhog" at the Art Museum, etc.). Laura put together a photo album of this porcine event (because of its hog industry history, Cincinnati at one time was known as "Porkopolis"). Runge Cousins Reunion: Now scheduled biennially and in the year 2000 it was the Schilke's turn, in Brownsburg, Indiana, starting on a Friday night, June 2 at the Schilke home. Bill Schilke had built a new deck, complete with benches and tables, all in wood with a high gloss natural finish and Hung, Liisa's husband, had prepared a feast of traditional Vietnamese dishes (Liisa, while not technically a Runge, was Dagmar's niece and having lived with us in Cincinnati, was considered "family"). Saturday noon there was a picnic and Saturday night a barbecue, all on the Schilke deck and backyard where it was a bit chilly that night as it was early June. The Schilke clan was well represented including daughters Kaarin (New York) and JoAnn (California) with husbands, and son David (Indianapolis). There was a large contingent from St. Louis and Uncle Martin's 3 (Paula, Tina, and Dick) so I really must mention Nori Muster (Paula's daughter) who years ago worked in Cincinnati on the riverboat "Delta Queen", and Don Hassler (Paula's husband, who died in 2013) always a warm and agreeable friend, interested in the lives of other folks. Conrad and Judy travelled all the way from Chanute and were at our house in Cincinnati the next week. Next weekend we were in Michigan for Dan Goodell's high school graduation party (combined with graduation party for Jason, Sue's nephew, son of Dennis, although Dave and Sue did most of the work). Dave rented a large tent and when the rock band "entertainment" ended we had a very pleasant afternoon and evening with many friends and relatives including William and Michael Murdock, Michelle and Randy, Laura's cousins Dick Bowmaster and Carl Holstein, and even her aunt Clara Pearsall. Visitors from France: In the summer of 2000 Cincinnati was hosting some sort of international textile event and at this time Laura was studying French at Alliance Francois, who had a school in Cincinnati. One of Laura's teachers, who knew that we had a large house, asked if we could house 3 people from France who very much wanted to attend and we agreed. Our guests arrived on June 21, a direct flight from Paris, a man and 2 ladies, Yvan Walford, Helen Ladoux, and Jacqueline Velard, all very much interested in weaving, but speaking almost no English (except Helene, who was somewhat conversant). We picked them up at a downtown hotel and generally transported them to various events mostly at the Convention Center downtown. There was an evening session but they assured me that they would return by taxi, which they did, arriving very late, laughing and excitedly telling me of their adventures, which I didn't completely understand but Laura (with her French comprehension) did get the full story the next morning. It seems our 3 visitors found a French speaking cab driver, but unfortunately he was a recent immigrant from French Africa, had just started driving a taxi, and was not at all familiar with Cincinnati and as there are many streets in the Cincinnati area which incorporate the word "Terrace," they had an interesting tour of the metropolitan area, until the poor fellow finally found his way to our Terrace Avenue (he did not charge them for these many late-night miles). One evening we took them to a restaurant in Mt. Adams and on an after dinner stroll we came upon a stretch limousine, which for our French friends this was a phenomenon never before seen. They were amazed, chatting with excitement and taking photos and the limousine driver (waiting for nearby clients) was gracious, fully opening the side doors allowing us to peer inside at the garish décor, couches and minibar. Laura's cousin, Fred Pearsall, came by for an overnight visit at this time. Early in July we had 3 people from Venezuela over for a cookout (Laura was working with them at her Cincilingua job) and because it was close to July 4th there were fireworks sounds all around, which puzzled our guests. I asked them how they celebrated independence in Venezuela? "Miliary parade" they replied, Mardi Gras? "Military parade", new year? "Military parade," other holidays? "Military parade". Needless to say, they were not fans of the then dictator Hugo Chavez. Busy time the rest of July: World Piano Competition pianist arrived July 11, whose name was Melanie Hadley, from St. Louis, the only American we've ever hosted which was her very first competition and she didn't make it beyond the opening round. Bill and Dagmar Schilke were here that weekend for an opera. Dagmar had become quite an opera aficionado, driving to New York often for the Met (staying with daughter Kaarin) so whenever Dagmar did a New York trip, Bill would compensate by buying a new tool for his wood shop. End of July we drove to Chicago where Laura went to some sort of early childhood education conference (see Chicago Memoir). Going West: Early August we had 2 wedding invitations, one in Seattle and the following week, one in St. Paul. We decided to do both so we flew into Seattle on August 11, rented a car and found a motel. Jack Towe's daughter, Karis (Nancy), was getting married to Jonathan (Ton, pronounced "Tahn") Cadey (Nancy/Karis and Ton both had jobs in Seattle) and as Nancy grew up in Cincinnati there was a definite Cincinnati connection. Nancy's siblings, David and Christie were there, as well as Chuck and Julie Schubert and their boys, Chad, Travis, and Ryan (and Jack of course). The wedding was at Calvary Lutheran Church and Ton's family were there from Minnesota. We spent some time exploring Seattle, mostly the old downtown (Pioneer Square, underground tour and the early high-rise towers), Puget Sound beach and the Aurora Bridge Troll. On an overcast morning, we decided to drive out to Mt. Rainier, taking a chance that the weather would clear (the Schuberts had driven out the week before, disheartened to find the mountain shrouded in clouds) and as we neared the mountain the skies suddenly cleared and we beheld a majestic sight. At Mt. Rainier, we hiked through fields of wild flowers up to the snow line where we encountered a group that looked familiar, and discovered that they were Minnesota people from the wedding. Other Seattle happenings: we met with Jim Kaska and Tom Swift, old friends from Gamma Pi/Delta Tau Delta, Iowa State (spoke by phone with Ted Marston, another good friend from Gamma Pi), toured the Pike Place Market (mounds of fish) and met with Marlin Huisinga, a colleague from years ago at AMK in Cincinnati, who gave us a tour in his BMW (Marlin had his own architectural practice, doing quite well specializing in retirement communities). On our last day, we decided to go up to Victoria, B.C. (by sea, on a high speed catamaran). It was a beautiful day, and we explored the historic old areas, lush gardens and downtown Victoria. August 17, flew from Seattle to Minneapolis/St. Paul, rented a car and found a motel. Liv, the middle daughter of Kathleen Prudence (Henson) and Mike Henson (another Cincinnati connection) was getting married to Aaron Arendt (Liv had a job in the Twin Cities, Aaron was from there). We had a pre-wedding brunch at home of Mark and Rhoda Schuler in St. Paul, directly across from Concordia University where Mark was on the faculty (remembering the happy times we spent with Rhoda and Mark when they were in Glidden, Iowa), then to Sculpture Garden in downtown Minneapolis. We went to an outdoor wedding that evening at the backyard of a home in St. Paul overlooking the river (a bit awkward as Kathleen and Mike were divorced and Mike's new wife was at wedding), followed by a reception at a nightclub in Minneapolis. Saturday morning did a quick tour of downtown St. Paul, then over to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts where we saw a wonderful tangle of glass (orange) from Venice by Chihuly hanging in the lobby (in a few years Cincinnati Art Museum would have a twin, blue, in their lobby). The Twin Cities and suburbs were a maze of freeways, hardly recognizable from my days there in the 1950's, so sadly for me the character of cities had changed. Saturday evening held a final get together with Rhoda and Margaret (Margie) McDonaugh (another Cincinnati wedding guest) at an ice cream parlor on Grand Avenue in St. Paul and Sunday morning a flight back to Cincinnati. Late summer: Time for a bit relaxation and "porch sitt'n", a KZF picnic at Coney Island and another trip to Michigan. September 10 our "daughter" Anna Vaiman returned to Cincinnati (this time for good we hoped). She arrived with her new husband, Leonid (Leony) Sirotkin (Gleb was long out of the picture). They had been in the Marinsky Orchestra (St. Petersburg) for some time but the schedule was exhausting, pay was low and there seemed to be little future. Leony's brother (who was director of Metropolitan Opera Chorus in New York) persuaded him to apply for a PhD program (English horn) at CCM (College Conservatory of Music, University of Cincinnati) which Leony did, and he was accepted and Anna was able to enter the U.S. under Leony's visa. They arrived with little more than their luggage and moved into our third-floor bedroom. Anna promptly started at CCM as an adjunct teaching violin and once again the house was no longer empty. It was a warm and pleasant time. Fall 2000: The large sugar maple in our front yard turned a beautiful golden yellow, but sadly, had to get the yard ready for cold weather. As usual the busy season, however, was underway with Symphony concerts, Keyboard Club, MLK Chorale rehearsals, Halloween (pumpkin painting/trick or treat night) and another trip to Michigan. The big event was November 10, my 70th birthday (was I really getting that old?) and Laura wanted to have party (an event that happens only once in a lifetime, I suppose). There were many old friends, Chuck and Chyrl Brandt, Bill and Dagmar Schilke, Erich and Melinda Zwertschek, Curt and Ginny Wilhelm, Jack Towe, and much food, with Anna and Laura providing violin/piano entertainment. Thanksgiving dinner was at our house with Chuck, Chryl and Jeff Brandt, Anna and Leony. December 2000: Winter is here! We went to the Indianaolis Symphony concert in downtown Indianapolis, Dagmar displayed her basket collection (she was into basket weaving at this time) and a stop to see Liisa and Hung before our return to Cincinnati and then to the KZF Christmas party at the Westin, Christmas brunch with the old Pavillion gang at Rich and Joyce Mellot's home and pre-Christmas dinner at our house for the Venezuelans (Laura's students from Cincilingua). Anna and Leony went back to St. Petersburg for 2 weeks and came back with Misha. Christmas day we went to Caroline and Charley's for dinner and on December 27 we all went downtown to show Misha the train display at the CG&E buildign and Christmas decorations in the Carew Arcade (these venues no longer exist) and then had a delayed Christmas Eve, opening presents with Anna, Leony, and Misha. On December 28, we left for Florida, to Sleepy Hollow, the mobile home park in Zephyr Hills where Laura's mother always had dinner waiting for us when we arrived. We took a walk in the cool evening air to view the Christmas decorations (plastic snowmen, animated reindeer, etc.) and as we learned from previous visits, most would be gone the day after New Year's. We had a quiet New Year's Eve and Laura's Aunt Kate came over for a glass of wine. Year 2000 was busy with many activities and happy times but there was one sad happening as my dear cousin, Dick Schilke, died in November, not unexpectedly. I remember him not so much as the big jolly fellow in Yuma, or in a wheelchair at the 1998 Phoenix reunion, but back in boyhood days when we were covered with yellow dust from the claybank on West Fourth in Sioux City, or hiking to the War Eagle monument high above the river, or to Riverside Park (a fun house and roller coaster). This is the Dick Schilke I remember. Year 2001: The restful New Year's holiday was soon over and we left for the long drive home. There is a small town, Millville, north of Cincinnati on the road to Oxford (the road east goes into Hamilton, west into Indiana) and I went through this pleasant village many time when Marie and the kids were camping in Hueston Woods or later when Conrad and the girls were students at Miami University in Oxford and there was a sign as one entered the town, proudly proclaiming that Millville was the "Birthplace of Kennesaw Mountain Landis, first commissioner of major league baseball". The reference to "Kennesaw Mountain" puzzled me (I knew it was a major Civil War battle) so the father of Landis must have been in that battle. On our drive back to Cincinnati, I had to see the Kennesaw Mountain battlefield park in NW Georgia (Laura was not enthusiastic about this excursion) where in 1864 General Sherman's army was repulsed in a bloody assault on dug in Confederates at this mountain, but Sherman, with his battle - hardened Midwesterners, marched around the mountain and continually outflanked the Confederates, finally reaching Atlanta. Back in Cincinnati we were immediately busy with final rehearsals with the MLK choral (concert on MLK day in Music Hall). Laura started as director of the Peaslee preschool in Over-the-Rhine, Alla, Anna's mother, arrived from St. Petersburg on January 12, and we had another delayed Christmas dinner and gift exchange (I can't remember where we put Alla, but once again we had a houseful. We had a birthday party for Misha at "Chuck E Cheese's" (7 years old) and Misha started classes at Mercy Montessori (a small private school, as Anna had visited Cincinnati Public Schools and determined that this was not a place for serious learning). Alla and Anna give a piano/violin concert at the February Keyboard Club meeting, February 17 and on March 2, Laura was in Florida to visit her mother (flew out of Dayton, much lower cost than Cincinnati airport and rented a car at Tampa airport). We took a weekend trip to Michigan and end of March did the annual 10K Heartwalk. Laura was trying to bring some order to the chaos and haphazard environment at her new job at Peaslee. The building, relatively new, was once a Cincinnati Public School system elementary school, but it no longer had any connection with the Cincinnati Public Schools so the program was funded by various donations, and mothers of enrolled children paid nothing. The children ranged in age from infants to preschool and the staff, mostly neighborhood ladies and friends of the previous director, had little training in dealing with young children and little inclination to that end (their main interest was in socializing during an extended breakfast). Generally, Laura could not replace these women, but she did succeed in hiring a few people who actually had an interest in working with children (among then, Sunita, a lady from India and she and her husband became good friends over the years). The new hires caused considerable resentment (among the original staff) so it was a very trying environment for Laura. We took another trip to Michigan in early April, followed by Easter Sunday dinner at our house with Anna, Leony and Misha (Misha decorated Easter eggs for the occasion). We all went to the Zoo, Sunday at 6, and then Laura and I went to Michigan for Mother's Day as Laura's mother was back from Florida. The major event on May 14 was Leony's recital (English horn) at CCM accompanied by two of his Russian friends, Eugene Kaminsky and Eva Ostrovsky, and post recital reception at our house with the Russians, various CCM types and Henry Meyer. Bill and Dagmar Schilke were here the following weekend for a May Festival performance and on Memorial Day we went to a cookout at Brandts. Friday, June 1, 2001 we left for St. Louis with Chuck and Chryl Brandt (they did the driving) for the wedding of Nathan Hempel. The affair started with a Friday evening outdoor party and dinner at Aaron Hempel's (Nathan's brother) and the wedding was Saturday at Laclede Chapel (Laclede is a Lutheran retirement community, formerly a Roman Catholic convent, and Joel Hempel was the chaplain and Marsha had an administrative position, with facilities that ranged from independent living to total care, "God's waiting room" as designated by Joel). The chapel was magnificent, but the stained-glass windows all depicted important Roman Catholic church fathers and prelates from the St. Louis area. "Not very Lutheran" I noted to Joel so he led me to a side aisle in the back where there was a stained-glass window of Jesus Christ: "This", Joel said "makes it Lutheran". Joel officiated at the ceremony (the bride's name is Amy and she and Nathan had a baby daughter but the marriage was not long-lived). We had brunch on Sunday at Joel and Marsha's home in Webster Grove and another trip to Michigan in mid-June. World Piano Competition: Cuong Van arrived on July 2. Cuong Van was from Vietnam but currently studying piano at Cleveland Institute of Music (CIM), and was accompanied by a female friend Dobbie Mun (Korean I think), also a pianist but not in the Competition so the house was filled with piano music, morning, noon and night. Cuong Van was a master pianist and he won Gold (first place) at the Competition, after which there was a dinner and ceremony on July 10 for the winners at the Westin Hotel which Laura and I attended this as well as several preliminaries at the Aronoff. Summer Opera series, several trips to Michigan and a KZF picnic rounded out the summer. In September Laura and I decided to take a brief vacation trip. First, we had a hearty lunch at Golden Lamb (built 1803) in Lebanon, Ohio, then to a bed-and-breakfast in historic Waynesville (now mostly souvenir and antique shops, Wanesville is known for its annual Sauerkraut Festival in the Fall). At first we thought that we were the only guests at our bed-and-breakfast, Hammel House (built in the early 1800s), but in late afternoon two ladies arrived on bicycles (they had biked all day from the Cincinnati area) and after dinner they were ready to party and invited us to a late-night card game, but after a busy day in the Waynesville shops we were bushed and so declined the invitation (besides, it was way past Laura's bedtime). Next morning (after breakfast) we were off to Ceasar Creek State Park (just east of Waynesville) and Pioneer Village (historic log buildings from early 1800's). September 11, 2001 ("9/11"), a date that forever changed much of our lives, I was at KZF, all of us watching in disbelief the TV coverage from New York City. That same month there was incident in Over-the-Rhine involving the police shooting of a young black man so there were boycotts, marches and finally, riots with the police essentially abandoned OTR and sadly, the burgeoning Hispanic population vanished overnight, as did most of the relatively stable families. OTR was largely depopulated, which in turn created the conditions for the gentrification which occurred a decade later. Other September happenings: Alla visiting again from St. Petersburg, birthday party for Laura (September 14), Oktoberfest in downtown Cincinnati, start of Symphony season and final trip to Michigan to see Laura's mother before her return to Florida. (At some time late September or early October, after a rainstorm, Alla was trapped on the front porch by a very wet, angry raccoon and I'm sure, back in Russia, Alla had stories to tell about the wild animals in America). October: Rehearsals start for the MLK choral, we went to an open house party at the new home of Wayne and Toni Meyer in Northern Kentucky, and to a birthday party for Jose Quishpe at a Greek restaurant here in Clifton, and finally pumpkin painting and trick-or-treat Halloween. Cooler weather has arrived with Laura and I in Michigan the first week in November, walking around Teeple Lake (not far from Laura's girlhood home on Cedar Island Road), where there was a cold breeze blowing off the water (not yet frozen, but definitely past the boating season). November 10th Laura left (flying out of Dayton) for a quick visit to her mother in Florida and later we went to the Brandt's (together with Anna, Leony and Misha) at their home in Over-the-Rhine, for Thanksgiving dinner. The next day Kirt and Natalie (and dog Toby) were here for a visit so we had dinner at our house, entertainment provided by Misha playing his child-sized violin. The end of November Anna (violin) and Leony (English horn) gave a recital at CCM. The big event on December 9th was the "Starling Kids" Orchestra at CCM Watson Hall where Misha plays a violin duet. We did have a bit of excitement in early December, when after a heavy rain, the basement was flooded with storm water so Anna and I formed a "bucket brigade" to scoop water out the basement door. I called Roto-Rooter and after checking, they said tree roots were causing the blockage. We went to the KZF Christmas party at the Phoenix downtown (no Christmas brunch at the Mellot's this year) and Leony and I put up the Christmas tree (in the traditional place, the front window). We had a Christmas Eve party after church with a few friends from Prince of Peace, then Christmas present opening time with Anna, Leony and Misha. Then we were off to Florida on the 28th for a quiet New Year's Eve in Zephyr Hills, ending a quiet and generally (for us) uneventful year. Year 2002: Another New Year's dinner at the Sleepy Hollow Mobile Home Park, and then we are on the road again, back in Cincinnati, as on January 5 Chuck and Chyrl Brandt were here for dinner and a post Christmas gift exchange, then the sad yearly chore of taking down the tree whose needles are dry and starting to fall, ornaments are removed and packed into the appropriate boxes, light strings unwound, an finally the bare, forlorn once admired "Tannenbaum" is dragged through the front door and out to the yard. We did the usual intense MLK choral rehearsals and the annual performance at Music Hall. End of January there was a birthday party for Misha (8 years old) with presents, games and several kids (mostly from Misha's school). After more problems with basement flooding we had Roto-rooter do a total correction so first day of February they removed part of the basement floor, cut away the offending tree roots and installed a new drain line tap. Misha was fascinated by the whole operation, especially the concrete floor patching. Our February activities included dinner with Caroline and Charlie Fehr, a Super Bowl party at Schuberts, Ballet, Keyboard, etc. On February 17, we left for a major Florida trip, where we had a pleasant time with Laura's mother and Aunt Kate, also Laura's second cousin Karen Lloyd and Kate's great grandson Christopher. We enjoyed walking to the old downtown of Zephyrhills where there was an ice cream shop and a small park. We also went a few miles north to Dade City, the county seat, in the heart of the orange grove country, a quiet town, still mostly untouched by the spreading Disneyworld/tourist culture. On our return trip we stopped to see the Dade battlefield (Bushnell, Florida) a silent, empty trail through the trees, and a few monuments, where on December 28, 1835, a party of soldiers, led by Major Francis Dade, on horseback, were ambushed by Seminole Indians and there were few survivors (It was a Pyrrhic victory for the Seminoles as a vengeful U.S. Government sent an army, driving the Seminoles out of central Florida, either to exile in Oklahoma or to the Everglade Swamps in southern Florida). We then went on to Milledgeville in central Georgia (at the time of the Civil War, Milledgeville was the state capital, not Atlanta). Milledgeville is now a quintessential southern town with a traditional county courthouse, well-manicured grounds of a school for the education of young southern ladies (Women's College of Georgia) and stately antebellum mansions. The old state capital, an incredibly ugly building in Gothic style, is now a military academy, graced with a large Confederate war memorial. We stayed in a large old mansion near the downtown, now a bed and breakfast. Milledgeville had the misfortune of being in the path of Sherman's March to the Sea - not much damage, but the Yankees did hold a mock session in the Capital and blew up a Confederate arsenal (the explosion blowing off the roof of a nearby Methodist Church, an incident which the townspeople have not forgotten. March: Back in Cincinnati, Laura flew to Phoenix for the funeral of her Aunt Laura Belle, Mesa, Arizona. Quong Van was here again, as a gold medal winner in the 2001 World Piano Competition, he is obligated to teach a master class and play a recital at the Queen City Club which we attended, of course, I wearing a borrowed tux. We visited the Schilkes in Brownsburg and did the annual 10K Heartwalk. April: The usual Symphony concerts, Xavier piano series, Keyboard (Laura was one of the judges for young pianists) and Laura was in Columbus for an early childhood seminar, but big event was the wedding of Michael John Murdock, April 27, Brecksville, Ohio. There was a reception and dinner at the Hilton Garden Inn in Twinsburg, a happy gathering of friends and relatives with John and Karen Murdock, of course, plus William and Michelle, Sue and Dave Goodell, plus Jamie and Dan. The marriage, unfortunately, lasted for only a little more than a year. First week in May: We took a trip to New York City, one of our favorite places. We hadn't been there in a while; flew into Laguardia, stayed at an inexpensive hotel (Riverside Tower) on 80th Street, Upper West Side, but spend most of our time in Midtown, Lower Manhattan and Central Park with quick tours of Greenwich Village and Washington Square, Times Square at night, viewed the art at the Metropolitan roof garden, the incredible collection at the Frick, lunch at the now closed Tavern on the Green in Central Park, and a stop at the forever under construction Cathedral of St. John the Divine (ran into a Russian friend selling sketches at the south end of Central Park) saw enough for one trip. Back in Cincinnati we started rehearsals with a massed choir for the upcoming groundbreaking of the Freedom Center on the riverfront. Conrad and Judy were here for a visit in mid-May. The downtown was decorated with large vases of flowers ("Cincinnati Blooms") and we also took in a May Festival concert. June: Summer was definitely here and Alla arrives from St. Petersburg, Misha gave a violin recital at CCM and rehearsals with the Freedom Center choir became more intense. Later in June we went to the biennial Runge Cousins Reunion, this time in St. Louis (actually St. Charles on the northern edge of greater St. Louis). The opening event, June 14 was in the backyard of Rich (Clem's son) and Diana's home in Lake St. Charles with a good-sized crowd. Saturday afternoon we did a tour of Missouri River wine country (Missouri valley, just west of St. Louis, is actually the oldest wine district in the U.S.). Saturday evening there was a cookout and food fest in the backyard of Mark (Carl's son) and Patricia Runge in St. Peters (probably one of the last times that Clem, Eleanor and Carl were together as they were scattered in different parts of greater St. Louis). Laura and I brought a collection of old Runge/Dicke photo albums which thoroughly engrossed the gathering - Laura had put the old, somewhat disintegrating pages (originally assembled by my mother) into new protective covers and into new albums. Sunday there was an outdoor farewell brunch at the St. Charles Wine Garden. All in all a great reunion. Immediately after our return to Cincinnati, there was a groundbreaking ceremony for the new Freedom Center and a massed choir marched across a bridge from Northern Kentucky (to symbolize, I suppose, the escape from slavery to freedom in Ohio). Laura Bush was one of the celebrities in attendance (the site, on the Cincinnati riverfront, is a prime location and a competition could have been held to select a renowned international architectural designer but instead an architect was selected for political reasons, resulting in a very mediocre design). The Freedom Center, in spite of a huge infusion of federal, local and private grants, has not been a financial success. July, World Piano Competition: We hosted another pianist, Eun Joo Chung, originally from China, but like most of the other competitors, studying in the U.S. Another gold medal winner! This time we went to the awards ceremony, July 7, at the Westin Hotel (once again I had to borrow a Tux). We did another trip to Michigan to see Laura's family and some old friends (Pat and Earl Smith, and we walk down the road to visit Jesse and Hilda Weaver). July 20, there was a retirement party for Chuck Brandt (after decades of teaching high school chemistry). Joel and Marcia Hempel, son Aaron came from St. Louis for the occasion. August: Typical hot summer in Cincinnati, ice cream social at Taft Museum, Tennis Masters Tournament in Mason, numerous cookouts, and getting ready for the big event, a major trip to Europe (I spent much time researching and calling for reservations along our planned itinerary). We left for Amsterdam August 24, flying Continental through New York. I remember an anxious start to our trip as our scheduled flight out of Cincinnati was cancelled, but the Continental desk assured us that the next flight would get us to New York in time to catch the Amsterdam flight which meant we had to race the full length of the New York terminal getting to our gate in the nick of time. Timora met us at the Amsterdam airport (Schipol) and whisked us immediately to a home (David and Louisa Kamp, originally from New Jersey) for a dinner reception where we met friends and family. Next to our temporary housing, Timora had found a place not far from the apartment where she and Allan lived, south of the old center, near the stadium which had been built for the 1928 Olympic Games. I remember going up very steep stairs to a top floor sleeping space which had a great view of that part of the city. Our hosts, a gracious couple, were friends of Timora, he was Dutch, she was French, but both spoke perfect English. After moving in we walked over to Timora and Allan's place for an evening get together which was crowded as Timora's family had moved in for the occasion, Rina Rosler, her mother, and Nimrod, her brother and Nimrod's wife (Yoram, Timora's father, was staying in Rotterdam where he was doing research on Erasmus, a 16th century Dutch philosopher and theologian). There was plenty of food (Allan is an excellent cook) and Nimrod entertained us by speaking English with an Indian accent (he and his wife just returned from a trip to India). Saturday morning, August 25, was the big event, Timora and Allan's wedding. The wedding hall was in the old city, on the Prinsengracht canal (in the Amsterdam center, everything is on a canal). The hall was filled with magnificent floral displays, which Rina had somehow arranged to be brought from Israel through a florist she knew in Amsterdam. As Laura and I entered we were given programs (printed in Dutch) and the men were given yarmulkes but as we knew little Dutch and certainly were not Jewish we elected to sit in the back, as far back as we could. Timora started the program with a cello / piano duet, and then, much to our surprise, the ceremony proceeded totally in English (except for a Hebrew chant by a cantor) although the rabbi briefly chided Allan for seeing him rarely, if ever, at the synagogue, a glass was broken, and then it was all over (use of English actually made sense as Timora's family knew no Dutch and Allan's family travelled mostly from New Jersey or England). Following the wedding it was immediately back to the Olympic neighborhood to catch a glass enclosed boat for an afternoon river cruise throughout the city with food, drinks and socializing with friends, old and new, from the wedding party. Saturday evening there was another big event as the wedding hall had been transformed into a banquet and party venue where there were mountains of catered dishes, all carefully selected by Timora. After the Feast (at sit-down tables) the floor was cleared and the party began, and the MC (who was not Dutch) declared that at night "The Dutch go wild", but as the evening wore on, the Dutch, engorged with food and drowsy after many drinks, began to drift off so by midnight the hall was nearly empty. So much for the Dutch going wild. Next day Laura and I walked the old city - visiting familiar places and seeking out the new - Laura went shopping and I had an Amstel at an outdoor cafe on the Prinsengracht. It was a beautiful sunny day, but sadly it had to end. Next morning Timora drove us (no more "junk bike") to Centraal Station where we caught the high-speed train to Gare du Nord in Paris, and from there the RER to the Luxembourg station only a short walk from our favorite lodging, Hotel de la Sorbonne where from our upper floor room we could see across the rooftops to the southeast, the dome of the Pantheon glowing in the setting sun. It was August 27. First day, back in Paris again, we walked, explored and marveled (no natural beauty here but the beauty of a city, man-made over years). We looked into the opulent foyer of the Opera Garnier but didn't want to pay the fee to see the interior. That evening we met Hélene and Herve Ladoux for an organ concert at Notre Dame. Hélene (who spoke little English) had stayed at our house in the summer of 2000 but she and Laura kept in touch through letters and it was our first meeting with Herve (Hélene's husband) who, much to my relief, did speak some English. We agreed to meet again during our Paris visit. Next morning took RER all the way to de Gauelle airport (end of the line) north of Paris, to meet Chuck and Chyrl Brandt. It was their first visit to France (Chuck had told us "I'm not getting off the plane until I hear English voices") but their flight was early and it was a long walk from the RER station to the Delta gate. We saw Chyrl immediately, but Chuck, overcoming his apprehension, was outside looking for us. After retrieving the luggage (two enormous wheeled travel cases as Chyrl had packed every possible need for their trip) we trudged back to the RER station for the long ride back to our Luxembourg stop (no escalators at the secondary stations so we had to lug the cases up stairs to the street level). We had reserved a room for the Brandts at our hotel (fortunately at a lower level as there was no elevator in Hotel de la Sorbonne) so while Laura was helping Chyrl settle in, Chuck and I sat at an outdoor café in the Sorbonne plaza, having a beer and admiring the young female students passing by. Next day, after a long night's sleep to allow the Brandts to recover from jet lag, we did a quick tourist overview of Paris (top deck of Arc de Triomphe Pantheon, Place de la Concorde, Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, and Montmarte with the view of the city from Sacré-Cover and the many wannabe artists at Place de Tertre). Evenings, while others had turned in, I would wander the city, usually to get a few snacks from a small grocery near the Pantheon run by an Algerian. One evening I was approached by a couple who asked me, in very bad French, if the Pantheon was Notre Dame, so after establishing that they spoke English (they were from Denmark and spoke very good English) I informed them that they were off by six centuries and in the wrong part of Paris. Another time, when taking an early morning stroll along the Seine I was approached by 3 men, who in terrible French, asked me if there were an ATM machine nearby (they were Australian), so in American English (which they seemed to understand) I told them to try the commercial strip on Boulevard Saint Michel. The highlight of my evening walks was on August 30 when I heard the sound of sirens, music and shouting from Boulevard Saint Germain and went down to investigate and I saw hundreds of people on rollerblades, some in groups, some in costumes, all having a great time, racing along. Cross streets were blocked by police and the route was lined with spectators. Next morning in the lobby of our hotel I asked Herve what this was all about (we had arranged for Herve and Hélene to meet us that morning for a Paris excursion) and he said somewhat disdainfully, that it was some sort of ridiculous official event which occurred every few weeks in the evening along certain streets of Paris. First we had morning coffee, then Herve and Hélene gave the four of us a tour of the Marais section of Paris and for lunch an "authentic" French restaurant; that afternoon we did the obligatory visit to the Louvre Museum where we entered at I.M Pei's glass pyramid, viewed the Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, etc. and finally at the lowest level, the original medieval base of the fortress (for me, the most interesting part of the Louvre). Next morning, we met with Herve and Hélene again, walked the old city southeast of the Pantheon, Place de la Contrescarpe of course, and from there down narrow Rue Mouffetard (the original Roman road to Lyon) to buy cheeses, cold cuts and bread for a picnic at the Luxembourg Gardens. Sunday afternoon we spent getting ready for next phase of our journey, including a visit to a laundromat (one of the mornings at our hotel, Laura and Chyrl were having the standard French breakfast, croissants, butter, jam and coffee where the elderly serving lady referred to them as "coquettes" eating alone without the men and Chyrl never forgot the "coquettes" incident). Monday morning, September 2, we took a subway to Gare de Lyon, and we were on our way by main-line train to Lyon and slow but scenic local train to Chamonix in the French Alps. Chamonix: A small city in the mountains is in a part of France that we had never seen. The hotel I chose (Hotel de l'Arve) was on the edge of town, at the base of the mountains and next to a small, clear rushing river, the Arve which was idyllic, except that it was a long way from the station, so we had to drag our luggage the whole bumpy distance (travel would be much more enjoyable with no luggage). Next morning, we did Mont Blanc which at 4807 meters is the highest peak in Europe. We took a lift to 3842 meters, cold, ice and fog at that level, although a few hardy climbers going a bit higher. We had an evening respite at a fondue restaurant (Chamonix is very proud of their local fondue). Next morning, we were on the road again, this time to the bus station for a ride through the recently finished Mt. Blanc tunnel (the longest tunnel in Europe) passing under the mountain and emerging at a small town in Northern Italy. While Laura and Chyrl watched over the luggage, Chuck and I walked over to the railroad station as I had selected a train route to Turin (Torino) and from there a direct main-line train to Venice. It was a small station and the single station master said simply "no train!" (the only English he knew) so we checked the schedule and arrival time but again the man said "no train!". Puzzled, we went back to the bus station, where fortunately we met an American girl who said "Of course there is no train - the tracks were washed out and there probably will be no train for days, perhaps weeks". She recommended that we take a bus to Milan (Milano), and from the bus depot a subway to the train station. Again, while Laura and Chyrl watched the luggage, Chuck and I set out to find the nearest subway station whereupon Chuck, who was our designated Italian speakers, asked a cab driver where the subway was and the cab driver pointed down (which was quite correct as the subway was indeed down there somewhere). I remembered that tobacco shops sold subway tickets and there was a nearby shop, we bought tickets and they directed us to the subway stop, just down the street. We made it to the Milan train station, again hauling our luggage up to the correct platform, and on Wednesday afternoons, September 4 we finally arrived at the Venice railroad station. Venice (Venezia): The station is not in Venice so we had to cross a causeway to get into the city then trundling our luggage along a canal until we finally reached the hotel I Found near the city center, Hotel Falie. In Venice, there was water everywhere, stunningly beautiful, once a maritime power throughout the eastern Mediterranean, now reduced to a historic artifact, supported mainly by the tourist industry (of which we were part). We began with a water taxi tour of the city (much less expensive, and more comprehensive than hiring a private gondola), floated along the Grand Canal, saw the historic Rialto Bridge, encountered hordes of tourists and pigeons at St. Marks (Piazza San Marco). Returning to our hotel one afternoon we were startled to find a young American in the lobby; probably no more than 15 years old, who had got himself a prostitute and was trying to rent a room for only one hour (the hotel clerk sent them away). For a souvenir Laura bought a beautiful paper-maché Venetian mask. When we left the hotel, Chuck decided that we had enough of hauling luggage and hired a small boat (he went along to keep an eye on our luggage). On Friday noon, September 6, we left the Venice railroad station for our next destination, Florence. Florence (Firenze): The commercial and military power of Renaissance north central Italy, is now mostly a cultural center, and supported mainly by tourists. I had found a hotel near the city center, Albergo Fienze, but again, a long way from the railroad station, so once more the daunting task of hauling our luggage through the streets (at least there were no hills). We set about being tourists and there was much to see - Ponte Vecchio across the Arno (bridge is lined both sides with jewelry shops), Michaelangelo's David, we saw the original and the full sized copy at the Pallazzo Vecchio, the "Old Palace", built 1298, at city center (the old central post office in Sioux City, built late 1800's, has a tower modelled on the Pallazzo), Uffizi art museum (the major art museum of Italy, swarming with tourists), bronze doors of the Cathedral baptistery, and the highlight of our tour, Brunelleschi's dome at the Cathedral (built in early 1400's, largest dome in Europe at the time). At a small church across from our hotel we heard a Bach pipe organ concert on Saturday afternoon. Early Sunday morning, September 8, back to station for a high-speed train to Rome. Rome (Roma): Another tedious trek with our luggage in tow from the train station to the hotel I had found near the city center, Hotel Parlamento, except when we got to the listed address, I found no trace of a hotel. I asked at a nearby gelato shop where they said they knew of no hotel by that name, and I asked a policeman but received the same response. I was ready to give up in despair when Chyrl saw a small plaque on a building (directly across the street from the gelato shop) which said "Hotel Parlamento". The hotel was not at street level so first we had to walk through some sort of auto service area, then up a long flight of stairs, until we found an elevator which took us up to the hotel lobby. Hotel Parlamento (near the Italian Parliament Building) was actually quite a find as the upper deck had a great view of the city and the man at the lobby desk was friendly and spoke good English (Chuck labeled the fellow "Luigi"). After a night's rest from the exhausting events of the previous day we set out to do Rome - Colosseum, Forum, Pantheon, Trajans Column, various triumphal arches, surviving temples on the Tiber, St. Peters and Sistine Chapel at the Vatican (Chuck had his Swiss Army knife temporarily confiscated at the museum entry), Hadrian's Tomb, traditional coin toss at Trevi Fountain (Chuck used a Sacajawea dollar, which the Italians don't consider real money and for that matter, most Americans don't either), late lunch at a restaurant in the old Jewish quarter, where Laura made the serious mistake of ordering a cappuccino, which the waiter disdainfully announced is served only in the morning. Rome's streets are awash in motor scooters, incessant noise early morning until late at night, seems to be main method of city travel, although there are buses and a subway (graffiti covered). It was not unusual to see a young woman, business suit and briefcase, skirt hiked up, roaring down busy streets on a motor scooter, and Laura and Chyrl were nearly run down (by a motorscooter) at a crosswalk, but Chuck, not remembering a good Italian expletive, shouted "Formica". One day decided to go out to Ostia Antica, the ancient seaport of Rome. "Luigi" warned us about "gypsy" girls at the railroad station and on the way, we stopped to see the remnant of Diocletian's Bath, a portion of which was converted to a church so Chyrl wasn't allowed to enter as she was wearing shorts. The bath remnant was immense soaring space, with remaining Roman columns extending upward 7 stories. While Laura and I were inside, Chuck was mobbed by a group of "gypsy" girls who skillfully pickpocketed him, even his billfold and passport from a "deep pocket, but unbelievably, a young girl returned everything to Chuck, with an apology. "Luigi" said this (the return of stolen items) could happen only if this incident were observed by police. We spent much of the day at Ostia Antica, a remarkable well preserved Roman site. On our last evening in Rome found an actual (no tourists) Italian restaurant hidden away in a second floor, not far from our hotel (wine bottles arrayed high on walls all around, waiters had long poles to retrieve). Next morning, a cab to the airport and direct flights back to Cincinnati, Friday evening, September 13. Don and Mary Mueller, from Bonduel, Wisconsin, stopped by for a visit, and next day, Saturday, September 21, William Murdock and several friends were here from Columbus to see the Cincinnati U / Ohio State football game and they were expecting an easy win for Ohio State, but were astonished and horrified was their team was nearly upset. Getting into the Fall routine - Symphony concerts, MLK choir rehearsal, a trip to Michigan, pumpkin painting for Halloween (this year's face was based on the mask we brought back from Venice). Leony's parents, Anatoly and Ella Sirotkin, were here for dinner on November 10 (which also happened to be my birthday). Another trip to New York City, November 21 through 24 as Laura wanted to go to the NAEYC national convention. We stayed at the small walk-up hotel, Broadway Inn on 46th at 8th Avenue, where I spent many nights when working at Southebys. Not much time, but Laura was free late afternoon and evenings, so we made the most of it - Times Square, Bryant Park, shopping at Macy's, Laura ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza (Laura was greatly amused when the young girl at the skate rental gave her the "Senior Rate"). Thanksgiving: We had dinner at the Brandt's house on Broadway in Over-the-Rhine where Jeff Brandt and Angela were also there. Our 1990 Chevy Lumina was starting to show its age, so on December 1, we bought a 2003 Chevy Impala (using the discount available through Dave Goodell, a longtime GM employee). Misha gave a violin recital at CCM on December 15. We had a gorgeous Christmas tree (in the front window as usual) and Christmas Eve present opening with Anna, Leony and Misha (the traditional Christmas Eve gathering of folks from Prince of Peace had dwindled away). On Christmas day, we left for Florida (we spent the night in Calhoun, GA, where we found that not many restaurants are open on December 25, but we finally found an all-night pancake house, and they were busy). We had a restful time at the winter home of Laura's mother after a very busy year. Year 2003: With a dinner and toasts, we brought in the new year in Zepherhills, just the 2 of us, together with Laura's mother and her Aunt Kate. Next day we were on our way back to Cincinnati for the usual winter activities - Laura still a director at Peaslee, I was still with KZF, and rehersal with the MLK choir. We did take quick trip to Brownsburg, Indiana, January 11, for 50th wedding anniversary of Bill and Dagmar Schilke where there was celebration at a Brownsburg restaurant then an "after party " at home of Liisa and Hung Lê. We sang again at Music Hall for Martin Luther King Day and the weekend of February 15-16, Laura and I went to several "Fine Arts Sampler" events as it was the 20th anniversary of our "first date" at a Sampler weekend in 1983. Big dress-up event, March 11, at the Queen City Club downtown: Eun Joo Chung, who we hosted for the 2002 World Piano Competition, was back to play a fundraising recital required for Gold Medal winners so once again I had to borrow a tux from Karl Payne (this time he said to keep it as it no longer fit him anyway). End of March we did our annual 10K Heartwalk. April 12, we are on the road again to Florida, where at this time I should note that at a very small town, St. Elizabeth, just north of Dade City, with large Baptist church next to the highway, and they had a sign in front "St. Elizabeth Baptist Church" which was geographically correct but denominationally utterly incongruous (I was bemused whenever we passed that sign). We were in Zephyrhills for the birthday of Laura's mother (her 94th), so we celebrated (with Aunt Kate) at John's Steakhouse just down the street (one of the few restaurants that Laura's mother considered acceptable). We then went down (with Laura's mother) to Lakeland for a day to see some of Frank Lloyd Wright's buildings at Florida Southern College and colorfully decorated fiberglass "swans" throughout the city of Lakeland. I had the time to do some yard cleanup, washed and waxed the car, and we looked in at Christopher Lloyd's school (Aunt Kate's great grandson), and another birthday get together with Aunt Kate and Jess and Hilda Weaver from Michigan (the Weavers had a house near Zephyrhills where they spent the winters). On the way back to Cincinnati I wanted see, once more, the Chickamauga battlefield in far northern Georgia, in particular the place where the corp's commanded by General Thomas, "The Rock of Chickamauga", held off the Confederates (Sept. 1863) allowing the defeated Union army to escape to Chattanooga (General Thomas, a Virginian and West Point grad, but unlike Robert E. Lee, remained faithful to the Union and earned his fame with the destruction of the Confederate "Army of Tennessee," Nashville, Dec. 1865). After Chickamauga Grant and Sherman took command and the Union Army would then move south relentlessly. Laura and I celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary with the Brandts, June 7, at the Palomino, a newly opened (then) restaurant, downtown, overlooking Fountain Square. Next day Misha played with the Starling Orchestra at CCM (Alla was here from St. Petersburg), an outdoor cookout at Jeff Brandt's house on Mulberry Street in Over-the-Rhine, a trip to Michigan where we meet Dan Goodell's fiancée, Emily, and that ended our early summer. World Piano Competition time again: We host Yunjio Chor from China but he didn't make it to the final round and leaves on July 4. On that same day, we go the Brandt's "new" house for a cookout. This the house, built in the early 1900's, is on 425 McDowell, Columbia-Tusculum, an old neighborhood on east side of Cincinnati, a small 2 story frame, but with a driveway and garage, so Chuck no longer has to park his BMW on the street (the house actually belongs to Angela, Jeff Brandt's new wife, and they moved into Chuck and Chryl's Broadway house in Over-the-Rhine). I retired from full-time work at KZF on July 18 (I cover this event in another part of my memoir). Kittycat is still with us but not as lively, getting older as we all do. On July 19, Laura and I leave for another trip "out west". First stop is St. Charles, Missouri where we meet Conrad and Judy and visit the Runge cousins (my first cousins) now scattered in St. Louis area, Clem, living in the Missouri Veterans Home, Carl, living in a somewhat disheveled place in a St. Peters mobile home park with his dog Nestlé (Carl, nearly blind, spends his time on talk radio and composing "city name" riddles, such as "Some young fellows watched Miss Lupino working in her garden" and because I was of a certain age, I knew immediately that the answer was "Boise, Idaho"), and Eleanor Holle, in a retirement community apartment. We had dinner that evening with Richard Runge (Clem's oldest son), his wife Diana, Conrad and Judy, at a restaurant in St. Charles. We left next day, with Conrad and Judy, making some wine buying stops in Missouri Wine Country (Mt. Pleasant Winery, Montelle Winery), then on to Chanute (another stop on the way, "Precious Moments" center in Carthage, Missouri as Judy was a collector). Several days in and around Chanute, where we stayed at the home of Conrad and Judy (always enjoyed relaxing in a lounge chair in their living room, looking out a window at the quiet street), and we also went to some surrounding areas, including Gas, Kansas (I had to take a photo of a sign "Bank of Gas"). I had to see the Mine Creek Battlefield, the site of the only significant battle of the Civil War in Kansas (Confederate General Sterling Price put together a ragtag army, many from the pro-slavery area of northwest Missouri and fell upon lightly defended towns in east-central Kansas then moving slowly back south, wagons loaded with plunder - caught by Union Army regulars, including Iowa cavalry with repeating rifles, October, 1864 - disaster for the Confederates); back to Cincinnati via a stop in Iowa City at home of Dick and Brownie (Miriam) Runge, July 27. Cuong Van, winner of 2001 World Piano Competition (we hosted him then and again in March 2002 when he was in Cincinnati for his follow up recital), invited Laura and me to Cleveland for his final recital at CIM, August 20, and we went to an after-concert celebration at a Cleveland Heights restaurant. Conrad and Judy here the first week of September and we toured the newly opened Contemporary Art Center (one of the last projects I worked on at KZF). We were up to Michigan September 12-14 and visited Pat and Earl Smith at their place on Union Lake where Earl was always busy with projects on the house (which had been their primary home before they began wintering in the Cayman Islands) and Earl also had a large garden which he put in every spring down by the lake. We also got together with John and Karen Murdock, and Michael with (still married) new wife, Rebecca, at a restaurant in Brighton (John Mudock was now working for GM in downtown Detroit and thinking about renovating the old family place in Brighton). Laura and I are involved in the typical end of summer activities in Cincinnati including Octoberfest with the Brandts, Reds baseball game, and the Clifton Street Art Fair. For a late summer project, I decided to scrape, sand, seal, prime and coat with urethane the original standing seam metal roof over the back porch and bathroom. I had a quote form a roofing contractor who wanted to install a plywood deck and asphalt shingles, but fortunately I rejected this idea. Laura is back to work as director of the Peaselee preschool, also continuing to serve as congregational president at Prince of Peace, and teaching part-time at Cincinnati State. At this time, Anna, Leony and Misha had moved to an apartment at 514 Riddle Road in nearby University Heights so this big old house was empty (temporarily). October: Cooler weather, finally, leaf raking time (large tree in front turns a beautiful golden yellow, but sheds a lot of leaves), Saturday night symphony concerts and start of rehearsals with the MLK Choral. We went with the Brandts to view boats at "Tall Stacks" (a gathering of 30 or 40 riverboats from the Ohio, Mississippi and Missouri Rivers although only a few actual high stack steam boats, but most are diesel powered with fake stacks, and fake paddle wheels). Chuck and Chyrl Brandt, 'no longer living in Over-the-Rhine, leave Prince of Peace for King of Kings, a large congregation in a far northern suburb. Halloween with the annual pumpkin face painting and trick or treat night brings October to a close. November: Chuck Brandt is 60 years old which seems not possible, but nevertheless, there was a birthday party at Nicholson's, a downtown bar/restaurant (Scottish theme, more or less) so Laura and I were there, Chuck and Chyrl of course, Jeff Brandt and his new wife, Angela, and Angela's mother Shirley and her husband, Dennis Wilson (Angela's mother was divorced from Angela's father and had remarried). We take trip to Chicago for a NAEYC convention (covered in my Chicago Memoir). November 15 Misha played a violin recital at CCM with Kurt Sassmannhaus's Starling Orchestra and I had to bake fruitcakes that week so they would be properly aged by Christmas. Thanksgiving dinner is at our house with Brandts (Chuck does the mashed potatoes and carves the turkey), Anna, Leony and Misha. December: KZF Christmas party (retirees always invited), then the annual task of buying a tree (at this time, we would get a tree from a tree lot at the Methodist Church on Clifton Avenue, then carry it back to the house), setting it up in the front window (as always), with lights and an ever-increasing number of ornaments. Christmas Eve was at our house with Brandts, Anna, Leony and Misha, a repast of Christmas cookies and fruitcake and the opening of Christmas presents. Decmeber 26 we left for Florida, the annual visit to Laura's mother in Zephyrhills where one we evening drove to Dade City so her mother and Aunt Kate could see the houses which still had their Christmas lights. We had a New Year's Eve party with Aunt Kate, Jess and Hilda, next door neighbors. It was all over by midnight. Year 2004: At the Sleepy Hollow mobile home park in Zephyhills, Laura's mother had new neighbors in the unit immediately to the west. Their names were Dave and Dawn Miller, a retired couple originally from North Carolina, and their unit had a large addition which Dave called the "Florida Room" (not sure where Dave came up with this designation). He had done extensive research into the genealogy and history of his family. Unfortunately, the "Florida Room" was discovered to have major mold and dry rot problems, so much of the room had to be rebuilt at considerable expense. In any case, Dave, Dawn and Aunt Kate joined us for a New Year's dinner. By January 5 we were back in Cincinnati. Winter music: Many cold Saturday evenings at our beautiful concert hall and the great orchestra (CSO) including a notable concert on January 10 with Sergei Nakariakov, world renowned trumpet player (more of that to come). January 13 Leony gives his doctoral recital at CCM (oboe), accompanied by an array of noted musicians from CCM and the CSO and we have a major party after the concert. January 19, we sing with the MLK Choral at Music Hall, something that has become almost routine (although may months of rehearsals and preparation are required). January 31, Sergei Nakariakov arrives to stay at our house, followed the next day by Maria (Masha) Meorovitch, his piano accompanist. Sergei is a delightful guest, young (probably in his late twenties), but practicing constantly, which torments the cat. He gives master classes at CCM and then a concert in February 4 and after the concert he was swamped by CCM students asking him to sign their programs, instrument cases, or anything else (Sergei was, after all, a world-renowned trumpet player). There was another after concert party, this time at Uno's in Clifton. Early February Alla arrives for a brief visit, staying with Anna and Leony at their Riddle Road apartment where Alla prepares a major feast for all of us and we take Alla to the airport on February 12. Laura is fully immersed as director of the early childhood program at Peaselee, and I keep I touch with the AMK "old guys" at their monthly breakfast get together. March: We take a quick trip to Michigan (Brighton) for a baby shower for Emily, daughter of Michelle (Murdock) and Randy Clark, first grandchild of John and Karen Murdock (Karen is Laura's cousin, her only female cousin). Easter Sunday, April 11, we have dinner at our house with the Brandts and Jack Towe (Margaret had died the previous year). April 17, we are off to Florida again (Zephyrhills), this time for a birthday celebration (the 95th for Laura's mother). Dave and Sue came down from Michigan. The official birthday dinner was on April 19 with Aunt Kate from across the street, next door neighbors Dave and Dawn Miller, Jess and Hilda Weaver, plus other Sleepy Hollow friends. Weather is very warm so Laura uses the Sleepy Hollow pool. April 25, we are back in Cincinnati, Laura and I decided that this is the year to completely renovate the kitchen. First step (end of April) is to replace the ceiling so I tear out the old ceiling acoustic tiles and support framing, and hire Joe Sharpsair (I worked with him at KZF and Joe is always looking for an opportunity to earn additional income) to help me install a new gypsum board ceiling and light fixture. May: On the 4th we start rehearsals with a massed choir which has been assembled for the dedication (start of construction) of the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, on the riverfront, planned for late August. On the 8th we do the annual Crossroads Hill Climb - many steps but a great view of the city. On the 17th, our friend Henry Meyer (who never fully recovered from the hit-and-run accident, in a wheelchair and speech somewhat slurred) was inaugurated into the Classical Music Hall of Fame with the ceremony at Memorial Hall where Anna plays a violin solo. On the 24th we go to Misha's school for a special program, and on the 26th we take a big step in our kitchen renovation, signing a contract with Classis Kitchen Design as the primary contractor for the kitchen renovation (by this time we had selected tile patterns and colors from Mees Tiles). On Saturday, the 29th we go to a 60th wedding anniversary celebration for Hans Liebenow and his wife at Grace Lutheran Church, and the next day to Taste of Cincinnati with the Brandts. May was a very busy month. Endless Summer: June 1 we depart for St. Petersburg. Travel to Russia is much less stressful than in time past as there is no long waiting for forms (and at a high cost) from the Soviet Embassy in Washington so not much different than traveling to any country outside of the European Union except for certain visa and passport requirements. This time Misha travelled with us (his usual visit to St. Petersburg for the summer). We flew out of Cincinnati directly to De Gaullle in Paris, a huge airport with a bus system which circles around to the various departure gates (there was a direct flight from De Gaulle to St. Petersburg). As we were waiting we noticed that Misha was speaking to a middle-aged Russian couple (the man looked rather sheepish) whereupon Misha explained that he told the man he should be careful with his language as there were people who could understand what he was saying. The St. Petersburg airport was much changed from 1997 as there was a new terminal building for international flights with the whole operation much more efficient (no more pushing and shoving) and there was a mall with "duty free" shops. Alla, as usual, was there to meet us. We stayed at her house, the second-floor piano room with large windows overlooking the St. Nicolas park and where we were awakened each morning by the streetcar "thump" as it rounded the curve directly below our windows). The city was changing as the Soviet era (along with the former name "Leningrad") was fading away. There was a supermarket chain where Alla did much of her grocery shopping, Nevsky Prospekt was crowded with tourists and high end shops, older (pre-Soviet) buildings were being restored (mostly stucco in bright colors). We spent a lot of time just wandering the old city which with its canals is probably one of the most beautiful cities in all of Europe. We went with Alla and Misha to Peterhof on the Gulf of Finland, then down to Tsarskoe Selo (about 15 miles south of St. Petersburg to see the Catherine Palace and in particular, the Amber Room, which, after years of reconstruction the room had just been opened to the public, so there was a long line, but somehow Alla was able to get us in with little waiting (the Amber Room - commissioned in 1709 by King Friedrich of Prussia, a spectacular room whose walls were covered in richly colored decorative amber panels, but his son, Friedrich Wilhelm was obsessed with building Prussia as a military state, and so traded the Amber Room to Tsar Peter the Great for a regiment of tall soldiers. When the Germans occupied this area in 1941, they reasoned that, after all, the Amber Room was a German artifact, and so sent the amber panels back to Königsberg in East Prussia where the panels were probably destroyed or buried in rubble by a British bombing raid in 1943. The Russians very much wanted to rebuild the Amber Room, but unfortunately they had only black-and-white photos and the true colors were a mystery. Remarkably in the 1990s a fragment of one of the original panels showed up in a German flea market, and this enabled the Russians to proceed with a reconstruction). Viewing the reconstructed Amber Room was probably the highlight of our trip. One day we (Laura, Misha and I) had a personally conducted tour of the Peter and Paul Fortress by Anatole Sirotkin (Leony's father English was limited but he had memorized a complete narrative (possibly from an English language guidebook) although we were familiar with everything but didn't want to interrupt his recital (Misha said "this is so boring"). What I really wanted to see was the firing of a salute at 12 o'clock noon as had happened every day since Peter the Great (we heard it from a distance) and when I mentioned this to Anatole, he immediately took us to the site, bribed the guard, and we were allowed to ascend to the parapet where we had a great view of the city but I was disappointed with the gun which I thought might be a pre-1914 piece, but it was a modern field gun. One afternoon we went by tram with Alla to an old neighborhood north of the Neva for a memorial service in a small Orthodox Church for Alla's mother. There was no sermon or eulogy, only a prayer by the priest and liturgical music from a small choir but it was a beautiful experience. Later we went to an old (pre-Soviet) pharmacy which still had the original furnishings including a cash register manufactured by "National Cash Register Company, Dayton, Ohio". We spent a good part of one day at the Hermitage where Alla got special passes for us to see the Imperial crown jewels (an area not generally open to the public) and we also took a brief look at the room of "unacknowledged" art as I wanted to see again the "nonexistent" Degas (Viscount Lepec Crossing the Place de la Concorde With His Daughters). We went one evening to hear the St. Petersburg Philharmonic and met with our friend Gergiev, so shook the hand of somehow who had shaken hands with Putin. We went (with Misha) to the home of Anatole and Ella Sirotkin (Leony's parents) in a district on the far northwest outskirts of St. Petersburg, where the neighborhood was mostly Soviet era high-rise concrete apartment buildings (heavy, dark, and foreboding) in a forested area, but the Sirotkin apartment, though small by American standards, was bright and cheerful, with a balcony overlooking the trees below. Ella had prepared a fine Russian feast (Misha was our interpreter, but after a while he got tired of this and conversation became quite limited). Anatole took us on a long walk down a wide boulevard to the Gulf of Finland which had no beach, just a very rocky shore, but many people were out and about. Laura did have a chance to visit several small shops that had recently opened in Alla's neighborhood. On June 14, we left St. Petersburg (sadly, for the last time), and through Paris again, we were back in Cincinnati that afternoon. Back home for a few days, attending to household essentials, and on June 17 we were off again (driving) to the 2004 Runge Cousins reunion in Door County, Wisconsin where our gathering place was the Bridgeport Resort in Sturgeon Bay. Door County is a peninsula, Green Bay on one side, Lake Michigan on the other (which made me think of Jutland, home of one of the ancient peoples who with the Anglo-Saxons ventured across the North Sea and formed our language). The site was chosen by Richard Runge as he had been there before, and it was less than a day's drive from Bonduel, which Richard remembered from boyhood (his father, Clem, was my oldest cousin); another cousin, Mark Runge, had driven all the way from Merril, Wisconsin, as he wanted to see the place where Carl Runge, his father, had been born (Carl, was Clem's younger brother). Door County is a beautiful area, and although now heavily infested with resorts and tourist sites, it still retains much of its original charm. One day the entire Runge clan (except for Richard, who had eagerly looked forward to this event, but was taken ill) departed for Bonduel where the old Froelich-Runge house (of which I had many boyhood memories) was now the Bonduel Community Archives (a distant cousin, Mark Runge, who apparently had a bit of money, purchased the place and donated it to Bonduel and if he had not done this, the old house probably would not have survived). We Runges explored the archives (much Runge material) and the nearby downtown. Back in Door County, Conrad, Judy, Laura and I spent a day touring the upper part of the peninsula, much of it unspoiled shoreline and the next day Laura and I drove back to Bonduel to spend some time at the home of Don and Mary Mueller. One afternoon we drove out for dinner at the invitation of my cousin, Delores (Froelich) Schroeder (the old Schroeder farm in Oconto Falls) and it was probably the last gathering of the remnant Wisconsin Froelichs. I asked my cousin Keith Froelich (Delores's brother) if I could make copies of some of the old Froelich photos whereupon he told me this sad story: his mother, Aunt Esther, had possession of the photo albums and in her old age she moved in with another older lady, and apparently both of these old ladies suffered some degree of dementia. When Aunt Esther died, and before Keith and Delores had a chance to retrieve very much, the old lady said "Oh, I threw all that old stuff out" so that was the fate of the Froelich photo albums. On our drive out to Oconto Falls, we passed through the small settlement of Advance, where my Mother's Tante Clara and her husband, Emil Peterman, had a general store which had fallen into ruin. June 21, we were on the road again for the next phases of our June adventures where we saw the many sites and natural beauty of Northern Michigan (cold and windy along the shore of Lake Michigan, but inland it was early summer among the trees and small lakes). We spent the night in St. Ignace then took a ferry out to Mackimac Island which is always a place of natural wonder once away from the tourist hordes in town. Back on dry land we headed south reaching Dave Goodell's house building camp on June 22 (west of Gaylord) where he was living in a camping trailer. The house was nearly finished but had no plumbing, so Laura and I stayed at a motel in Atlanta (the Elk capital of Michigan) a few miles to the east. One day Dave took us to the U.A.W. resort education center on Black Lake north of Onaway (this was at a time when the U.A.W. was a wealthy and powerful organization). One afternoon drove down to Lovells, where Sue Goodell's mother, Jean Chall, and Jim Sorenson operated a unique, one of a kind, retail store (high end woman's clothing / infinite collection of fishing gear) and there we had an evening cookout. June 25, we began the final leg of our early summer travels, to Frankenmuth (driving the many miles from Northern Michigan to West / Central Michigan). Lutherans from Franconia settled this area in the 1850's, and although Franconia is on the far northern edge of Bavaria, in the 1950's much of the town was redone in a fake Bavarian architectural style, certainly not the actual genre of Franconia. We met up with Dave and Sue Goodell, and John and Karen Murdock as it was our 20th wedding anniversary (somewhat belated) so we explored the town and celebrated with dinner at one of the German restaurants. Saturday evening Sue, Karen, Laura and I went to a service at the huge St. Lorenz Lutheran Church but unfortunately the pipe organ was silent (undergoing repair). Later that evening, at our motel, the celebration continued and Sue got carried away after just a few sips of champagne. Sunday evening, June 27, we were back in Cincinnati. Midsummer memories: Laura is back as director at Peaslee which is stressful as usual (absentee and alcoholism problems with staff) although Sunita and a new young woman, Alyson Utteback, provide some stability. We both work to improve the play area and a riding path on south side of the building. We resume rehearsals with the NURFC choir (National Underground Railroad Freedom Center), but do take a bit of time to relax with a pre 4th of July dinner at the home of Caroline and Charlie Fehr at their home in Westwood (Laura provides a lot of the food and Charlie must show photo albums of their latest trip). World Piano Competition time: We pick up Jei-Yern Ryu at the airport on July 5 (the competitor who we host), she is Korean but currently studying at University of Michigan in Ann Arbor (great pianist, she placed fourth in competition, which is a major achievement). Conrad and Judy here for a visit July 21-24. We select and order tile patterns and colors from Mees and kitchen installation finally starts August 16. Laura is offered and accepts a new job as director of the pre-school at Concordia Lutheran School (her time at Peaslee has been frustrating and shows little signs of improving). We enjoy various summer activities with our friends Chuck and Chyrl Brandt who seem to have settled into the small house in Tusculum but drive way out to King of Kings Lutheran in Mason. NURFC Choir rehearsals become more frequent and intense with a grand opening (beginning of construction) is evening of August 23 which is a big event including mass choir march across the river on the old suspension bridge (Laura Bush is here for ceremony). Laura starts orientation for her new position at Concordia School. Chuck and Chyrl Brandt celebrate September 10 birthday of their first grandchild, Calvin. Oktoberfest downtown, and on September 19 the annual inaugural Keyboard Club concert. Suddenly summer is over. Shorter days, cooler weather, leaves starting to fall with outdoor furniture going back to the basement although seems that not long ago I brought everything out into the spring sunshine. Clifton street festival September 26 with the Brandts and our tree in front will soon display its coat of beautiful golden leaves (last year, sadly as a disease is slowly killing this tree). There is bad news from Florida as Laura's mother fell and broke her hip but fortunately Laura's brother, Dave, is able to take some time off, spending several weeks in during a rehab period, and when it becomes apparent that Laura's mother could not maintain herself alone in Florida, Dave moves her to their home in Michigan (Cedar Island Road, not "up north"). We had a busy October with the kitchen installation finally complete, I strip and refinish doors, windows, and baseboards. Followed by Halloween pumpkin time I buy a large pumpkin, design and paint a face, and Misha is here on Halloween dressed all in black. Frantic November: Annual ritual of leaf raking and chopping into mulch, party to celebrate Leony's return with Symphony European Tour, joint celebration of birthdays (Chuck Brandt and me) at Indigos in Hyde Park and Amanda Quishpe moves into the small bedroom on the second floor (Amanda planning to enroll at the University so we offer her a room). November 24, we leave for Michigan. Thanksgiving dinner in Michigan was a major event in 2004. Laura's mother is at Dave's house, Dan Goodell just became engaged to Emily Hoff, so several members of the Hoff family were present, Sue's brothers, Chuck and Dennis Chall are at the table, and finally the pièce de résistance, Sue's mother, Jean Chall and Jim Sorenson came down from "up north" with an assortment of homemade pies. A warm fire (hardwood logs in a large fireplace) in the "John Deere" room and a heavy Michigan snow made the weekend complete. Saturday night, November 28 we were back in Cincinnati. Christmas 2004: First week in December is fruit cake baking time (I had to get this done right away so that the cakes would be properly aged by Christmas and Laura is starting to decorate the house (she is also very busy with various duties at Concordia School), birthday party for Chyrl Brandt on December 11, KZF Christmas party at the Phoenix, annual trek to the Methodist Church on Clifton to select tree and haul (on foot) back to house, and finally Christmas cookie baking / decorating (by now I have developed a routine for this project). The tree is a big one (over 7 feet tall), which is hauled into the front room, secured, strung with lights and decorated. I start writing cards late at night and we have various Christmas dinners and gifting events with Anna, Leony and Misha, Caroline and Charlie, Chuck and Chyrl Brandt, and of course Amanda who is now a live-in. On the morning of December 24, we leave again for Michigan (no travel to Florida this year, which is a blessing). Christmas Eve dinner this year is with Laura's mother and the complete Goodell family (Dave, Sue, Jamie, Dan and Sue's brother Dennis) and on Christmas morning Dennis and his children, Jason and Becky, are over for gift opening. We have a relaxing week at Dave and Sue's house with Scrabble in the evenings with Laura's mother (she usually wins). There is a New Year's Eve dinner (Dan and fiancée Emily Hoff are here) and a quiet evening bringing to a close what had been a very busy year. Year 2005: After a farewell New Year's Day dinner in Michigan, we are back in Cincinnati that evening, Laura and I are both busy at Concordia School getting the place ready for reopening after the Christmas / New Year's break. Rehearsals resume with the Martin Luther King Choral, and for something different this year we sing at the Warren County Correctional Institute (a minimum-security prison) where there is an intense security check, both entering and exiting. We sing as usual at Music Hall on Martin Luther King Day, Fine Arts Sampler weekend is February 12 and 13, Anna has a CCM recital with Sandra Rivers on Feb. 23, and we have a belated birthday party at our house for Misha on February 26. Déjà vu (all over again): Laura's mother could tolerate the Michigan winter only so long, so by February she was back at her place in Zephyrhills, Florida, Concordia School was closed Easter week so March 25 (Good Friday) we were back on the usual route to Florida; Easter service at the local Lutheran Church (near Zephyrhills) then Easter dinner with Laura's mother and Aunt Kate. We had warm weather so I cleaned the yard, washed and waxed the car. We visited Jess and Hilda Weaver at their house (now firmly established in an actual house, except for a few summer months in Michigan. Forsythe, Georgia, a historic and very traditional southern town which has a county courthouse square with an obligatory statue of a Confederate soldier. We are back in Cincinnati April 2 (springtime has arrived and we do the 10K Heartwalk the following day). Jamie Goodell here April 21 (something about a truck exchange) when he said "I didn't know you guys lived downtown," "Downtown?" I questioned, "Yeah, big buildings and no place to park" was his response (I think the nearby hospital or Ludlow business district, for Jamie, were "big buildings"). We were back in Michigan for an April 24 wedding shower in Brighton this time for Dan Goodell and Emily Hoff. May 2, we do the Crossroad Clinic Hill Climb which means climbing with many steps (it's a long climb to the top, but great views of Over-the-Rhine). Taste of Cincinnati May 30, Alla in town for a visit, cookout at our house with Anna, Leony and Mishsa on June 5, and finally last day of school at Concordia (summer vacation). June 10 and we are off to Midland, Michigan for a wedding, the marriage of Dan Goodell and Emily Hoff. This was a major event and we booked a room at the Ashman Court Hotel which was the center of most of the activities (actual wedding was at a church on June 11). There was a dinner party at Hoff house evening before wedding (the Hoff house was large, newly constructed at a development around a small artificial lake - Mr. Hoff is a pilot for a Dow Chemical jet). After the wedding, there was a dinner and nonstop party / dance with many guests from both families. Post wedding, Laura and I spent the day exploring Midland which is a company town (Dow Chemical) so everything is clean and orderly with beautiful parks but unfortunately it was a short stay. Sunday night, June 11 we were back in Cincinnati. Midsummer (but no idyl): World Piano Competition starts and we hosted Christine Yang (from Taiwan) June 23 to July 3. Elsa Tasseron (who had moved to Albuquerque) visited us July 8 to July 14 (Chuck Brandt gave her an exciting ride in his new BMW convertible - top down) and another memorable event occurred when Kitty cat, who could not abide strangers, actually sat on Elsa's lap while she was knitting. July 15, we were off on another adventure, this time a mini-reunion of Runge's in St. Charles, Missouri. I'm not sure how this came about (probably organized by Mark Runge) Conrad and Judy came from Chanute as St. Charles is always a great place to gather. Back in Cincinnati we went to see Garrison Keiller at Riverbend. A capital adventure: End of July and for the next twelve days Laura and I traveled with the Brandts on a major European cruise. We booked through Vantage and it was titled "Capitals of Europe" which sounded great and the price was very reasonable. We flew from Cincinnati directly to London and from there were bused to Southampton where we were somewhat disappointed to find that the Vantage group was quite small (about 10 people) and the ship, the "Golden Princess" was not part of the Vantage system (the ship was huge - current cruise ships are even larger). On this ship, there were two restaurants which served reasonably good meals as part of the cruise cost, but there were also numerous bars and specialty restaurants, the center of the ship was a giant shopping mall, there was an art gallery, photo studio, movie theater, fitness center, swimming pools, a complete gambling casino and a large performance hall, essentially a floating resort (at the start of the cruise there was a lifeboat drill). First stop was at a port on the coast of Belgium, where one had a choice of bus trips to Brussels (the actual capital of Belgium), to Brugge (Bruges in French) or to Ieper (Ypres in French, "Wipers" to the British soldiers). Laura, Chuck and Chyrl decided on Brugge - a beautiful and historic city although Laura and I had been there on a previous European trip) and I, of course, selected Ieper, the site of many great battles during World War I. The language in this part of Belgium (Flanders) is Flemish, definitely not French (the bus driver's name was Hans). There were many people on the bus and from their accents I thought they were probably from North Dakota, until I heard the way they pronounced "about" and then I knew they were Canadians - probably mostly from Manitoba (many Canadians died in the Ieper battles). 250,000 British soldiers are buried in 161 cemeteries around Ieper and the bus stopped at Tyne Cot, one of the largest cemeteries (some British soldiers thought the area reminded them of cottages along the River Tyne back in England although the "cottages" were actually German pillboxes). At one of the final battles, a massive British bombardment completely destroyed the low-lying area's drainage system so the battlefield became a sea of mud and vehicles, guns and whole regiments disappeared into the quagmire, which is why so many soldiers are listed as missing. The tour also stopped at site where the defining English language poem of the "Great War" was written: "In Flanders Fields" (the author was killed at a later battle elsewhere in France). The Germans also had heavy losses, but unlike the British cemeteries with rows of individual white crosses, the Reich soldiers are in mass graves, each marked by a somber gray cross and with names carved together on a stone monument. Later, we visited a well-done battlefield museum in Ieper which so engrossed me that I didn't realize that the tour group had left but fortunately on the bus some Canadians said, "There was an American with us," so the tour leader and bus driver sought me out. I should mention that at the end of the war Ieper was largely in ruins and the British wanted to keep it that way as a memorial. The Belgians, however, rebuilt the town (the British did build a very large arched structure "Menin Gate" with the carved names of more than 54,000 missing but they ran out of space so several thousand more are carved onto a wall at Tyne Cot). Among the rebuilt buildings is the Cloth Hall, now a tourist center with modern toilet rooms. In the men's room, I noticed what I thought were full-length mirrors on either side of the original massive columns but on closer inspection I realized that they were actually windows which looked into the women's rooms which was an interesting Flemish touch. Back on the boat we headed north (into the North Sea toward Scandinavia) and the part of the tour I enjoyed above all else for in the evening and at night I would be nearly alone on the open top deck (most of the passengers were watching a show in the main performance hall, at the casino or in one of the many bars). One night I was alone except for a small middle aged Englishman (probably from Kent by his accent) when we saw a large sailing vessel in the distance, sails furled for the night so jokingly I said "Look - it might be the Flying Dutchman", "Oh no," he said in a serious voice, "It's a boat returning to England from a sailing meet in Bergen". On to Norway where we docked in Oslo (another capital), land of tall blond girls and expensive beer. We visited Vigeland Sculpture Park (all sorts of contorted Scandinavian bodies, in stone), the Viking Museum and Akerhus Fortress. On to Denmark, docking in Copenhagen (capital number three) with obligatory photos at statues of "The Little Mermaid" and Hans Christian Andersen, changing of the guard at royal palace and walk through city down to Tivoli amusement park. Best memory: lunch at a small, cozy beer tavern somewhere in central Copenhagen. Berlin (capital number four) dynamic, ever-changing, capital of the new "vaterland", like an American city in many ways but with a very different past. Berlin is an inland city so our ship docked in Hamburg and we took a fast train into the city where we saw much construction everywhere, especially in the city center (near the Brandenburg Gate there was a large banner which said, in English, "Good girls go to heaven - Bad girls come to Berlin" so I made Laura stand there and took a photo). I especially wanted to see the newly completed Jüdische Denkmal (Jewish or Holocaust Memorial). The German word for memorial (denkmal), roughly translated "think back once more" somehow seems more meaningful, but in any case, the memorial, designed by an American architect, Peter Eisenman (also designed the DAAP building at U. of Cincinnati) consists of a field of granite blocks, one meter square, placed to form passageways about 3 feet wide, about 2 feet high at the perimeter but gradually rising to about 10 feet high as one walks into the center (very effective). We also walked over to the Reichstag (new dome by architect Norman Foster) but there was a 2-hour long line to get into the building. We had lunch at the huge enclosed mall at Potsdamer Platz, saw the Berliner Dom and the other usual sites at the city center, including a large park at the former death strip / Hitler bunker site. Chuck wanted to see "Checkpoint Charlie," but now just a tourist site with performers in fake U.S. and Russian uniforms. Finest moment: At a bookstore in former East Berlin to buy a city map (stadtplan) clerk asked me if I were a German (she spoke little English). We stopped to see the 1936 Olympic Stadium (huge structure) on way out of the city. Netherlands: Ship docked at Rotterdam where we met Timora and son Amitai, (about 3 years old and tri-lingual: Dutch, Hebrew and English). Timora drove us to Amsterdam (not far as the Netherlands is a small country) where we dropped off Chuck and Chyrl, then to Busum (a suburb of Amsterdam) where we stayed at the home of Timora and her husband, Allan Kamp (the Brandts had a series of misadventures getting back to Rotterdam). France: The ship docked at Le Havre where again we had 3 choices: Bus trip to Paris (another capital), bus trip to D-day sites in Normandy, or bus trip to Giverny / Rouen in Normandy. We chose the latter. Normandy (Normandie in French) was given to the Viking (Northman) chieftain Rollo in the 10th century with the provision that they stop plundering the French interior, but unlike the Saxons who settled England with their families, the "Northmen" took local women for wives so within a few generations the Norse language and religion were lost (the Christianized Norman, William the Conqueror, spoke a very corrupted Latin: Norman-French). Our first stop was the home and gardens of Claude Monet in Giverny, and we enjoyed very much the delightful countryside of Normandy, stopped for a picnic lunch at a rural restaurant, then on to Rouen, the principal city of Normandy (Jeanne d'Arc was burned at the stake here in 1431). England: Final stop of the tour, ship docked again at Southampton and we were bused for a return to London (the last capital of the European tour), but we had several wonderful days in London. The Vantage tour put us in the very elegant Royal Horse Guards Hotel in the very heart of London and we couldn't' have found a better location - (an easy walk tot Westminster Abbey and Trafalgar Square). On arrival, our small Vantage group was given a general bus tour of the city and from then on we were on our own. We visited the usual sites (Piccadilly Circus, Houses of Parliament, London Eye, Buckingham Palace, etc.). Laura and I slipped in the National Portrait Gallery for a quick look at their incredible collection. We were fascinated by the recreation of the Sherlock Holmes Baker Street lodgings (there is a fierce rivalry between two groups - one group considers Holmes a fictional character, for the other group he was a living being). Too much to see in such a short time but tour had ended and we were back in Cincinnati August 12. A typical late summer with cookouts in our backyard, a combined birthday party for Anna and Leony, and a one year old birthday party for Calvin (the Brandt's first grandchild so this was a major event). Up to Michigan week of September 17-18 where we caught Pat and Earl Smith before they escaped the cold weather to their winter retreat in Grand Cayman. Autumn (I like the sound of German word "Herbst" better) with the usual Halloween pumpkin painting and trick-or-treat night, and then the big event, my 75th birthday party, first with a large group of friends (also Conrad and Judy) at the Montgomery Inn Boathouse, and then another party at our house. 75 is really old remembering that Martin Luther (same birth date, November 10) lived to be only 63. Leaf raking and mulching (retribution for all the beautiful fall foliage), and end of November is fruitcake baking time. Christmas season is generally a repeat somehow of previous years, with the KZF Christmas party at the Phoenix downtown (retired but still invited to this and other KZF events), selecting a tree as usual from the Clifton Avenue church which Laura and I then hauled back to the house, Christmas decorations on the tree and throughout the house (nussknacker figurines - mostly gifts from Conrad), pre-Christmas party and gift exchange with Anna and Leony, and finally a visit from Sumita and her daughter. Christmas day we leave for Florida. As we've done for several years we visit Laura's mother in Zephyrhills where Laura and I take a walk the evening we arrive to view the Christmas lights, foam plastic snowmen and mechanical reindeer before they are dismantled (Christmas is over in Sleepy Hollow) and we also visit Aunt Kate and other friends. December 31st Bob Lloyd and daughter Rebecca (Aunt Kate's great-granddaughter probably about 12 years old) drove us up to a site north of Dade City (not the actual battlefield) for a reenactment of the 1835 battle which was quite an impressive display with soldiers in authentic uniforms and a Seminole Indian encampment. New Year's Eve: With a quiet game of Scrabble (Laura's mother won, as usual), the year 2005 (and this memoir) come to a close. During the course of writing this memoir and in the many subsequent years it has taken me to put it all together, many of the people that I named have died. I thought I should list these people and the death dates (approximate in many cases). Gerda (Nicolaus) Heyes Rolland Nicolaus Alvin Schroeder Ted Marston (Gamma Pi) Henry Meyer Clem Runge Eleanor (Runge) Holle Larry Pockras George Krall Lois (Froelich) Weik Diane Schilke (Yuma) Bob Wier David Schilke Carl Runge Richard Runge (Clemśson) Karen Nielsen William (Bill) Schilke Don Hasler Phyllis (Runge) Nicholson (Tuscon) Jess Weaver Jim Sorenson Tammy Quishpe Jerry Mundt Erich Zwertschek Richard Runge (Iowa City) Diane Runge (St. Louis) Dolores (Froelich) Schroeder Doug Beers John Bredenbeck (Gammi Pi) 1999 1999 2003 2004 2005 2005 2006 2006 2006 2007 2007 2010 2010 2010 2011 2012 2013 2013 2013 2013 2014 2014 2015 2015 2016 2017 2017 2018 2018 CHICAGO Chicago was never my home but it is a place of many memories, and perhaps as a separate story, a way of masking some long ago less than memorable events. For a boy living in a small city in Western Iowa, Chicago was a distant, almost mythical place, too far and out of reach (as Grandfather would say "You can't get there from here"). Uncle Al worked in an office at the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad depot before being transferred to Des Moines. The Milwaukee Road ran a diesel powered "streamliner" passenger train, the "Hiawatha," from Chicago to Sioux City. The engine and cars were painted orange with black trim and there was a club car at the rear with a rounded, glazed end, where wealthy men from Chicago (I imagined), smoked cigars and enjoyed drinks while seated in leather chairs. Every evening, shortly before ten, the Hiawatha entered Morningside from the southeast, sounding a horn at each crossing, a signal for Grandfather to turn on the nightly news. When I was working at Park Market, on quiet summer afternoons, the guys behind the meat counter would listen to a baseball game, always the Chicago Cubs from Wrigley Field. I'm not sure how the play-by-play was sent to Sioux City (probably by teletype or telephone), but the local announcer had a way of recreating the crowd sounds and the crack of a bat. Chicago Girl: On a warm spring evening in 1949, out of boredom or perhaps in need of company, I went alone to the weekly teen dance at Longfellow School. These dances were City sponsored events and accessible only to public school students and although I had graduated in January, I was still on the student roster and so was admitted. I chatted for a while with a few friends and decided to leave. "You're not leaving already?" There was a pretty girl sitting at the check-in table who I had never noticed before. She said she was helping her sister who worked for the City, supervising the dance. She was slender with light brown hair in soft curls, an eager smile and laughing blue eyes. Her name was Joan Potter. She was 18 years old, visiting her married sister in Sioux City. Joan was from Chicago. She said her check-in duties were probably over for the evening and she was ready to leave, with her sister's permission. I offered to walk her home (Her sister lived in the east side of Morningside). It was the beginning of a seven-year relationship. Miss Joan was a gracious and loving young lady who I can now remember as I should always have done. Miss Joan had to leave after a few days, but she was at our house one evening and immediately went into the kitchen to help. "That girl is very forward," Mother said. Perhaps, I thought, but she was, after all, a Chicago girl. About mid-term in 1949, probably late October, after I was a pledge at Delta Tau Delta, there was a house dance and I invited Miss Joan. She arrived at the Iowa City station happy and excited. I asked Helen Keagel, a girl I knew from East High, to find Joan an empty bed in her dorm. I remember little of that weekend except that in boarding the train to see Joan off, I missed the last call and the train left the station. The conductor allowed me to ride to the next town without buying a ticket. I hitchhiked back to Iowa City. Miss Joan made a visit to Sioux City in the summer of 1950 and I remember going to a dance at the summer dance pavilion in Riverside Park, with Joan's sister and her husband where there was a live dance band, probably on a Saturday night. These summer dances were major social events in Sioux City at that long-ago time. In early spring of 1951, probably March, I finally made it to the great city. Lenaghan and John Hunt, a freshman from Glenwood, decided that they wanted to see Chicago and John Hunt had a car. We made a deal (Miss Joan had issued invitations) in which I would get a ride and they would get a place to sleep. I'm not sure how Joan's parents tolerated all this. I should mention that Joan actually lived in Elmhurst, a western suburb of Chicago, where her family was part of the hard-working middle class (her father had done much of the work on their house). In addition to the sister in Sioux City, there was an older brother no longer at home, and two younger sisters and a brother still at home. We left Iowa City after Friday classes, and drove through the night for endless miles through small towns in Northern Illinois (no interstate highways) before finally reaching the Chicago suburbs. I'm not sure what Lenaghan and Hunt did on Saturday (they had the car), but Miss Joan took me on a Chicago tour. I can clearly remember the Museum of Science and Industry with its coal mine and the German U-Boat U-505 (how could such a small vessel be such a menace?). We drove out to the Adler Planetarium to view the Chicago Lakefront, then and now a magnificent sight. It would be many years, under very different circumstances, before I would see that part of Chicago again. A few things can be remembered clearly, but most things are blurred or forgotten. Miss Joan came to Sioux City for another visit in the summer of 1951. She had gone for a swim in the Lewis Park pool and I told her I would pick her up with my friends Gordon Henry and Don Brown (one of them had a car). Gordon and Don were much impressed at the sight of Joan in her swimsuit. In the early summer of 1953 faithful Miss Joan paid another visit, although I was mostly recovered from my Lupus episode but still housebound. Miss Joan was in Sioux City for a visit in the summer of 1954 when her sister was living on the north side of town and her brother-in-law had taken a job in California. Joan's sister was a social worker for either the city or county where her clients were mostly dysfunctional Native American families and she told of one young boy who begged his mother to take him to a "Powwow" as he had never seen a real Indian (the Winnebago Tribe across the river in Nebraska had a Powwow every summer). Joan and I walked the streets of north side neighborhoods, talking and laughing. She was always cheerful, never in a bad mood. It would be Miss Joan's last visit to Sioux City as her sister moved to California later that year to join her husband. About this time Miss Joan had decided on nursing as a career. She was at the University of Illinois, Champaign/Urbana for two years, then finished her studies at the University of Illinois Medical Center in Chicago. For all these years, there were regular letters (not always answered faithfully), on rose colored stationary, written in a beautiful cursive hand (does anyone still write this way?). In March 1956, Chicago was the second destination of the Senior Architectural tour. This part of our trip was focused primarily on Mies Van der Rohe, of Bauhaus and Barcelona Pavilion fame, and at that time he was the undisputed übermeister of the architectural design community. We visited his recently completed apartment buildings at 868 Lakeshore Drive, and the campus of the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT). Mies, as director of the IIT architectural school, had developed the campus master plan and designed most of the new buildings. Directly across the street to the east (South State Street) there was a late 1800's working class Chicago neighborhood, doomed by the planned future expansion of IIT. Somehow, this eclectic collection of "blighted" old brick buildings seemed to have more life than the new highly ordered and pristine "Bauhaus/Miesian" campus. We had lunch one day at the Berghoff, but this historic German restaurant is no more (a current imitation was opened in its place). If one could live a life over again there might be some things we would change, and I've pondered this; I would have done something differently, certainly, but for the most part, I wouldn't (or couldn't) have made a fundamental change. In the spring of 1956 Miss Joan invited me to a formal dinner and dance for her graduation from nursing school. I caught a ride with two of the Chicago area Delts who were going home from the weekend. We must have left earlier in the day for as we neared my drop-off place late afternoon in the Chicago area the guys made a wrong turn and we were soon in an all black neighborhood. They were terrified and panic stricken, driving to an "escape route" as quickly as possible. Coming from a Western Iowa city with a minuscule black population and attending schools with virtually no black students, I was fascinated. I had never seen more than a dozen blacks at any one time, and here there were hundreds. After being safely delivered to my drop-off point, Joan picked me up and we drove the final leg to her house. We hadn't seen each other in quite some time and Saturday morning as we were talking, I realized that she was no longer the 18-year-old girl from that spring evening in Sioux City. Seven years had gone by and we both had changed. She said she would be working at a Chicago area hospital and wondered if I had thought about working in Chicago. I didn't mention that I had following job interviews in Kansas City and Minneapolis/St. Paul. That afternoon Joan and her mother went to pick up her gown and to see a hairdresser. While they were gone, Joan's sister (who was engaged with a wedding coming up soon) posed a startling question: "Are you going to marry Joan?" I was stunned as the thought had never entered my mind and I hadn't considered marriage to Joan or anyone else for that matter. After the long struggle to get through school I was free at last. Joan's graduating class was large. They rented a ballroom on the top of the Hilton Hotel, just south of the Loop. It was an elegant affair with a live orchestra, ladies in gowns and gentlemen in tuxes. A night to remember, and what I remember most clearly was the long outside balcony with a view out over Grant Park to the darkening lake beyond. The next afternoon Joan drove me to my pick-up point, but we didn't say much and there was a sadness about her. The guys were waiting when we arrived. She asked me again about working in Chicago. The laughing eyes were gone. I told her I would write (but I never did). Miss Joan Potter and I never saw each other again (I hope she soon forgot me). "You're not leaving already?" That summer I met a 20-year-old Minneapolis girl, but that's another story. During my early years in Minneapolis/St. Paul, the Chicago image began to fade. I did go to a talk by Frank Lloyd Wright in which he vigorously promoted his plan for a mile-high tower in Chicago (it was never built). On the return from our East Coast honeymoon trip, Marie and I bypassed Chicago for by then we had had enough of large cities (Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Washington). This waning image began to change when I joined the architectural firm Hammel and Green (later Hammel, Green and Abrahamson, finally HGA). Jim McBurney was an accomplished architectural renderer at Hammel and Green (he produced full color, gouache, perspective drawings of proposed buildings, now a dying art, replaced by computer drawn images) and he also did some drafting work. His renderings usually included a carefully hidden crouching Bengal tiger. Jim was a big guy, in his late thirties, drove a decrepit MG Roadster (probably held together with baling wire and duct tape), married with two daughters. He was a good friend and often when we worked late at night he would bring in a recording of Wehrmacht marching songs to keep us awake. Jim was from Chicago. His late father was on the University of Chicago faculty and his mother still lived in the same house in the neighborhood where Jim grew up, where she was the last white person on her street and refused to move. About once a month Jim would fly into O'Hare and take the El down to South Chicago. He had to walk the last few blacks, a gauntlet of taunts, spittle and potshots. Jim's sister lived in the Chicago area so she would meet him and unload a month's supply of groceries while he watched her car (his mother was fearful of leaving the house). Jim would return from this ordeal stressed and a bit shaken. It was a part of Chicago that I never experienced. This happened in the late 50's and early 60's. George Klein, a senior partner at HG&A was also a high-ranking officer and jet pilot in the U.S. Naval Reserve, and through him, we acquired several projects for the Navy. One of these projects was the renovation of several WII era wood barracks at the Glenview Naval Air Station, just north of Chicago (now closed as the folks in the northern suburbs found the roar of jets landing and taking off to be intolerable). As there were no drawings of these buildings, a group of us were sent to the site to collect the required information. George Klein was the project manager, I was the project architect, and there were five of us on the team. In the fall of 1963 we flew into O'Hare, probably on a Boeing 707 (my first flight, which I didn't mention and after that first flight there would be hundreds more as I never missed an opportunity to fly and looking up at a plane I would wonder where I would be going if I were on that flight). The barracks, two stories with large open spaces, each originally housed more than 100 men. Now they were occupied by a few old Chief Petty Officers ("Chiefs" as George called them) living out their days until retirement, still walking as if they were on the deck of a rolling ship. Each Chief had a full wing to himself where there were TV's, pool tables, ping pong tables and lounge furniture of every description. One Chief had a large model train layout. The buildings were suffering from neglect, as window panels were missing and birds had moved in. The Navy plan was to divide the open spaces into four-man apartments, each with separate toilets and showers. The Chiefs were very interested in our invasion of their home. When told of the plans one old Chief said, "Why? What's wrong with the place now?" He may have been right for in a few years, Glenview Naval Air Station was gone. For dinner that evening we went to "Old Town," then the latest tourist attraction. After a few drinks, George (who was no teetotaler) decided that we should explore downtown Chicago. At some point, we found ourselves at the Marina City construction site on the Chicago River (Architect: Bertrand Goldberg). The concrete structures of the towers were complete (known to the locals as "the corncobs"). The night guard appeared and apparently intrigued by a group of men in suits, looking up at his buildings and speaking a strange language (Minnesota English), he said the service elevator in one of the towers was operating, and offered to take us up to the roof. It was a clear night, and from the concrete roof deck we could see the whole of brightly lighted downtown Chicago and east out to the black void of Lake Michigan. In December 1965, I started a new career as an architect at A.M. Kinney Associates in Cincinnati, Ohio. We sold our home in St. Paul, and the whole Family moved (another Chicago by-pass) in January, 1966, to Cincinnati - but that's another story. Shortly after I arrived at AMK, the firm acquired a company plane, a twin-engine turboprop seating two pilots and seven passengers. The plane, named "Faith Wing," was fast, but very noisy and unfortunately not pressurized, so we flew through the weather, not above it. I had many bumpy flights on that plane, usually fatigued and with a headache from the engine noise. In the spring of 1966 Mr. Kinney Sr. decided to form a team of pharmaceutical design specialists, and that this team should visit a recently completed project for Abbot Laboratories in North Chicago, designed by AMK. Mr. Kinney was immensely proud of his new toy, so all of us, including Mr. Kinney, packed ourselves into Faith Wing for the flight to Chicago. Mr. Kinney was absolutely delighted that his plane was assembled into a line with large commercial jets coming into O'Hare. He had the pilots radio ahead for a limousine and after deplaning, we waited 45 minutes so Mr. Kinney Sr., who had a very short fuse, was furious and berated the driver when he finally arrived (the driver a mild, polite fellow, said nothing). We were delivered to a downtown hotel. Mr. Kinney had made dinner reservations at his favorite downtown restaurant and he instructed the driver to pick us up one half hour early to guarantee that there would be no further waiting. When we assembled at curbside at the designated time, the limousine was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Kinney was beside himself. When our ride finally arrived, Mr. Kinney ripped into the driver (the same poor fellow) demanding to know why he was one half-hour late. This time the driver spoke up saying he was not late, but one half-hour early per his instructions. At this point, Mr. Kinney realized that Chicago was on Central time. He apologized profusely and the driver received a very generous tip. The firm had a branch office in Chicago (actually in downtown Evanston) directed by a true gentleman architect, Hans Friedman. During my AMK years there were many project and marketing trips to Chicago, sometimes by air, often by car. There were nearly always major traffic slowdowns on I-94/I-80 where I-65 from northern Indiana fed into the Chicago area. Driving north on I-94 into the city there were several large low income housing towers, east of the highway, including the notorious Robert Taylor Homes, still quite new in the 60's, but gradually over the years becoming largely empty fire blackened hulks. The towers were eventually demolished and the site is now a park. In taking the El from downtown out to O'Hare I became aware of the changing demographics of Chicago as we traveled west. In later years, because of lower air fares and the availability of flights we often flew into Midway rather than O'Hare. There was a project in downtown Chicago, a high-rise tower, the Armco Building (later Standard Oil/Aon Center), designed by Edward Durell Stone, clad in white marble. This cladding, in thin panels, was not suitable for the variations of the Chicago climate and was starting to warp and become unstable; some pieces had actually fallen; we could only recommend that the building be re-clad in another material (which was eventually done at great expense); the view from an upper floor meeting room was spectacular. A few times, when I had a schedule break, I stopped in at the Chicago Art Institute, one of the world's finest art museums. In the late 1970's I spent much of my time working on a large project for Armour Pharmaceuticals in Kankakee, Illinois, about 40 miles south of Chicago; I would fly into O'Hare, and meet the Armour van for a way-over-the-speed-limit drive to Kankakee (Armour got into the pharmaceutical business as a spinoff of their large meat processing plants in Chicago and the pancreas of hogs was used in making insulin, the only drug at that time to control diabetes). It was a large project, with research and clinical testing laboratories, state of the art clean room drug manufacturing, and a major upgrade and expansion of their insulin production. We had started final drawings when Armour sold their pharmaceutical division and at about the same time a much less expensive synthetic insulin was developed so the project was cancelled. Marie had never set foot in Chicago. In March, 1981, she went to Chicago to die, but that's another story. June 9, 1984, Laura Goodell and I were married; again, that's another story. A different kind of Chicago experience: In July, 1993, Timora Rosler, the Israeli CCM cello student who was with us in '91-'92, was invited to participate in the young artist's program (Steans Institute), at Chicago's Ravinia Festival. Another friend and former student (violin) at CCM, Yehonatan Berick, was also invited. Timora asked us to come for a weekend so without hesitation we were on our way to Chicago. Along the way we were joined by my Indianapolis cousin, Bill Schilke and his wife Dagmar, who were classical music aficionados. The Ravinia Festival is in Highland Park, a northern suburb, and the longtime summer home of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. There is an open-air music pavilion surrounded by trees and lawns, performance halls, practice studios, and for the students, dormitories and a dining hall. Patrons arrived by car or by a special train from downtown, many seated on the lawns with picnic suppers (always with wine, sometimes even with candelabrum). We attended some of the afternoon recitals and Timora came up with tickets for the evening concert. Laura also had to see the Chicago Botanical Gardens in nearby Glencoe. One evening we had dinner with the Schilkes at Convito Italiano on the lake in Wilmette. On our return, we stopped downtown to take the Architectural Boat Tour, a great way to view the many and varied buildings which make Chicago such a fascinating city. A quick trip: in March 1994, Anna Vaiman (A Russian CCM violin student who was with us periodically for several years) and her then husband, Gleb, had an appointment with a Michigan Avenue lawyer who specialized in immigration cases (they were trying to get their immigration status changed to "political refugees"). We left early in the morning (Laura babysat 4-month-old Misha), but as the lawyer delayed the appointment time, I gave Anna and Gleb a quick city tour, including the Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette, an incredible and intricate structure in cast white concrete (the Baha'i religion originated in Iran in the the 19th century but when the Ayatollah Khomeini and the Islamic Fundamentalists came to power in 1979, the Baha': population was exterminated). The lawyer told Anna and Gleb they were two years too late as the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991 so immigrants from Russia were considered "economic" not "political" refugees. We returned to Cincinnati late that night with the "student visa" status unchanged. The long stay: in January 1995, the Chicago office received a major commission from the City of Chicago Public Schools in which all the city schools were to be evaluated to determine if they should be: A. Abandoned, B. Renovated and upgraded, or C. Left as is with only minor repairs or renovations. The scope of the project and the time schedule were such that the Chicago office needed help. A team of four was selected to spend two weeks in Chicago. I was the architectural component, Dave Brendamour was the mechanical engineer, I can't remember who did the structural/civil, and the electrical engineer, an unforgettable character whose name I've forgotten, was a temporary AMK employee. We were put up in the lowest price motel the Chicago office could find (somewhere in a northwestern suburb), given a quick briefing and then sent out into the Chicago winter. At each school on our list we were to investigate the general condition of the building, the structural integrity, code compliance, the mechanical and electrical systems, interview the principal and other key staff members, and then prepare a report with recommendations and cost estimate for any improvements or renovations. We did one school in the morning, one in the afternoon, and paperwork in the evenings. We did one large vocational school on a Saturday. The schools varied in age from the late 1800s to the 1970's. On some days it was bitter cold and there was always snow on the roofs (as the architect I had to inspect the roofs, usually accompanied by a hapless school maintenance man but the other team members saw no reason to climb up to the roofs). Most interesting were a group of 1920's elementary schools in the north and west parts of the city, well-built and well-maintained, with virtually identical floor plans but each with a different design motif (Georgian, Gothic, Classical, etc.). We visited a Spanish bilingual school on the near south side where the kids, as in all the schools, were fascinated by our work, and some in the typical Chicago lingo said, "Hey, whatayadoin?". In our interview with the principal, he explained that although half the classes had to be taught in Spanish, most of the kids knew little or no Spanish, but were sent to the school because they had Spanish surnames, but on the other hand there were Latino immigrant kids, generally a very transient group, who knew little or no English. The result, according to the principal, was an educational disaster. One day when we were in an old Polish neighborhood on the near west side, we stopped for lunch at a "Polish Smorgasbord" (a mixed linguistic metaphor if there ever was one). The food was great, but the electrical engineer, first in line at the cash register, exclaimed in a loud voice that these "Goddamn Chicago Polacks" had ripped him off. After calming him down we explained that he had paid the bill for all of us. On our free Sunday afternoon, I convinced the guys that we should visit the Chicago Art Institute, except for the electrical engineer who proclaimed that "there was no way in hell" that he would ever set foot in an art museum. I persuaded him that on Sunday afternoons the place would be teeming with young females and he could park himself on a lobby bench for "girl watching" so a good time was had by all. That evening we treated ourselves to a feast at the Italian Village on Monroe Street. Another quick trip: In July 1995, I drove Gleb and two grossly overloaded suitcases to O'Hare. He and Anna had decided to return to Russia because of visa problems (Anna had finished her studies at CCM and was not able to find an orchestra job which would give her "green card" status). Last Chicago projects: In the 1980's AMK did an award-winning design for a new corporate headquarters and research facility for Nalco Chemical Company, relocated from Chicago to Naperville, about 25 miles west of Chicago. Formerly a quiet farming community, Naperville was being engulfed in urban sprawl. From '96 through '98 I was involved in several smaller projects and studies at the Nalco complex, and finally in the design and construction of a new childcare center. Our design team, usually George Nielsen, Tom Lindsey, John Schickner and me, generally drove, taking the I-294 bypass southwest of the city. Anna Vaiman in Chicago: After Anna, Gleb and Misha returned to St. Petersburg (Leningrad during the Soviet era) she and Gleb divorced and Anna joined the Mariinsky Orchestra (Kirov during the Soviet era) under the direction of Valery Gergiev. In 1998, the Mariinsky was touring the U.S. and Anna called saying they would be performing November 10th in Chicago. Although we had heard the orchestra in St. Petersburg (and met Gergiev) we wanted to see Anna so Laura and I picked her up (the orchestra was housed at an old hotel about two miles north of the Loop) and delivered her to Orchestra Hall on Michigan Avenue. Anna had tickets for us and the soloist was pianist Alexander Toradze. After the concert, we had a late dinner at Italian village. On the night walk back to the car park gusting winds along Monroe street were blowing debris, trash cans and anything else that wasn't secured (Chicago is, after all, the "Windy City"). During this trip, Laura and I went out to Oak Park to see the Frank Lloyd Wright house. Wright, as a young architect, lived and worked here from 1889 to 1908 with his growing family. It was fascinating to see the ingenuity and developing talent of a person who would become one of the world's premier architects. Timora Rosler back at Ravinia: Although still in Amsterdam (we had visited her there in '97), Timora called to invite us to a special concert at Ravinia, Yo-Yo Ma with the Chicago Symphony, June 26, 1999. She had been asked again to participate in the young artist's program at Ravinia, so that weekend Laura and I were once more on our way to Chicago. Timora was excited about seeing this world-famous cellist so she decided that one Saturday morning we should all go to the rehearsal. She marched into the pavilion, with us in tow, and took a seat near the front, much to the consternation of the security people (the rehearsal had begun). Timora announced that she was in the young artist's program, that she had come especially to see Yo-Yo Ma, that we were her guests, and that she was not leaving. After some debate among the staff, we were allowed to stay. Yo-Yo Ma seemed unperturbed by all the commotion. Timora was bored by the confines of the Steans Institute so we took a sightseeing drive through the northern suburbs and stopped for dinner at Convito Italiano in Wilmette. Laura has been a long-time member of the National Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC) and in November 2003 their national convention was in Chicago. Laura decided to attend and I tagged along. We stayed at the convention hotel north of the Loop (the actual convention site was McCormick Place) and while Laura was attending sessions I explored the surrounding area on foot, including the "Gold Coast" with its remnant of once fashionable homes, the recently restored Water Tower (a survivor of the Chicago fire), and the new Museum of Contemporary Art, designed by German architect Josef Kleihaus (Building is great, but I though the collection was a bit thin). One evening we connected with a young friend from Cincinnati, Carmen Quishpe and had pizza at Deux Pizzeria on Wabash Avenue, where she had worked at one time. Laura did some shopping along the nearby "Magnificent Mile" (North Michigan Avenue). Another evening we took the free trolley out to Navy Pier, a bit tacky except for the magnificent stained glass museum at the far end. On the post-convention Sunday, we had brunch at the Atwood, an elegant old Chicago establishment on Washington Street, saw the incredible Tiffany ceiling in Marshall Field's (now Macy's), and finally made a quick visit to the Art Institute (where we ran into George Nielsen, from AMK in Cincinnati, and his wife). The Runge Cousins Reunion, June 2004, was in Door County, Wisconsin. On the way Laura and I drove through Chicago on I-94, not the I-294 bypass, because I wanted to see the place again. The traffic wasn't that bad, actually, as long as one stayed in the express lanes. (We returned to Cincinnati by way of Michigan). Long time no see: After an absence of several years, Laura and I went to Chicago in August 2010. I had been promoting this trip for some time as I wanted to see the new addition to the Art Institute by architect Renzo Piano. We traveled with our friends Chuck and Chryl Brandt on the "Mega Bus," a new low-cost mode of transportation, which uses a large double-decker bus, starting with a curbside pickup on 4th Street in Cincinnati, a brief stop in Indianapolis and a curbside drop-off on Canal Street near the Chicago, Union Station, after a six-hour drive. We booked rooms at the Palmer House, a very elegant old Chicago hotel and had an obligatory dinner at Italian Village. Next morning, we toured Millennium Park, did a photo op at the "beam" (Cloud Gate), several hours at the Art Institute (including a very pleasant lunch at the Court Café), then late afternoon to the Sears (Willis) Tower Skydeck. Laura had to see the whole of Chicago, but was uneasy looking straight down through the glass floor. That evening we met our friend Carmen Quishpe who recommended Gene and Georgetti's, a traditional Chicago steakhouse north of the Loop on North Franklin, where the five of us had a great dinner. Next morning, we did the Architectural Boat tour on the Chicago River and saw that much of the city had changed since we last did this in 1993. (Fortunately, the familiar rumbling roar of the El is still a part of the Loop ambience). We were back in Cincinnati late that evening. I will always remember the many, many drives to Chicago, approaching the city from the south on I-94, usually in heavy fast moving traffic, past abandoned and empty industrial areas, old brick buildings and church spires, the El marshalling yards, the massive Robert Taylor towers, and finally in the distance the Sears Tower, rising out of the haze like a far away mountain, forever beyond the next rise. Afterword No one knows why Jerry stopped writing memoirs with the year 2006, for the best was yet to come. In September of 2007, Kristina Neumann, our last student arrived from Wisconsin where she had just graduated from Concordia University. She was accepted into the fully funded, MA/PHD program in the Classics department at U.C. She lived with us until 2014 when she married Wes Jackson, finished her PHD., and moved (2015) to Houston, where she now teaches at the University of Houston. As a historian, Kristina could counter many of Jerry's interpretations of historical events - so we always had a lot of interesting discussions (read that arguments!) ongoing. She brought much to our home: friends, cats, books, books, books! The red "chucks" shoes she gave Jerry for his 80th birthday were a memorable gift, but she also typed most of this memoir, and for that, we give her many thanks. Thanks also to Sara Irey, our neighbor on Terrace Avenue, who finished the typing for us. And thanks also to Kayla Stellwagen, our DAAP student in 2017-19, who did the final editing for us. Laura and Jerry's 30th Wedding Anniversary Celebration, May 2014 Kristina Neuman (7 years), Amanda Quishpe (1 year), Misha Vaiman (4 years), Laura Goodell, Anna Vaiman (5 years), Ed Daly (1-1/2 years), and Jerry Froehlich Return to Index - click here