I was born on March 6, 1918 in a section of Manhattan known as Yorkville. While I was still very young, my parents bought a restaurant and bakery shop on Third Avenue and j3t Street. We lived in a tenement apartment across the street from “the store.” Although I was very young, I still remember the toilet out in the hall with a very loud pull chain. The kitchen was the only warm room in the apartment, heated by a coal stove. We did not have the luxury of a regular bathroom with a bathtub. There was a large sink in the kitchen with some sort of a removable section which came out and thus became our bathtub. This was fine for my brother and myself. However, to this day I’m still trying to picture either of my parents (who were both rather plump) getting into this contraption to bathe.
Because my mother was the cook in the restaurant and worked all day, I was taken care of by German nannies. These were young girls who emigrated from Germany as did my mother and worked as serving girls here in America. Because of these girls not being able to speak English in our German household, my brother and I spoke fluent German. My parents were very hard working and in time their place became well known for its good food and delicious baked goods. In 1924 they had done so well they decided to sell “The Store” and take the family to Germany for a six month vacation. Thus started my first adventure.
After leaving the ship on which we crossed the Atlantic Ocean, we took a train to a large city to meet my father’s parents. As the train entered this very busy, noisy Bahnhof (train station), my brother Dick and I were already in the corridor that ran the length of the car, opposite the passenger compartments. He was holding me up so I could see this amazing place with so many trains moving back and forth. Suddenly there were loud noises of people screaming and glass breaking. A freight train on the track next to us, moving in the opposite direction, had a loose board or bar that was shattering the windows along the corridor of our train. My big, brave ten year old brother, Dick, saw this coming and dropped me to the floor and covered me with his body. I still have two small scars, one on my right wrist and one in my left eyebrow. Dick suffered a gash on his head. He was lauded by the Stationmaster for his quick warning. Many passengers in our car were able to duck below the window sills and escape more serious injuries than those in other cars who remained standing. After we and many others were treated we finally met our grandparents for the first time. My poor grandmother almost faInted when she saw our bandages.
I do not remember by what mode we traveled, but all of a sudden we were in the town of Schwanebeck. A true fairy tale picture of a town, complete with cobblestone streets, window flower boxes brimming with color, a town square with a well and so much more for me to discover.
I was to stay, much to my delight, with my grandparents for the next few months. My parents and Dick were going to visit relations and tour southern Germany, Austria and Switzerland My grandparents thoroughly spoiled me. I soon learned to call them Oma and Opa instead of the formal Grossmutter and Grossvater. Oma quickly packed away my beautiful citified clothes, that my mother took such pains choosing, and I soon blended in with the other children, wearing her hand made pinafores.
Every morning the women gathered at the town well to get their drinking water for the day and of course, gossip. This water was carried in two pails hung from a pole that went across your shoulders. Even children had their own pails in different sizes according to their height, and I was jealous of them. One morning when Oma and I were to go for the water, there next to her pails was a smaller set Opa had made for me. Proudly I walked with her, and the women and children at the well laughed and clapped when they saw me wIth my pails. My memories of that wonderful summer are overflowing. There was a small cobble stone courtyard behind the house that was complete fascination. To a city child, to find a hen- house with chickens that LAID eggs, two goats that gave milk and a pig and her four baby piglets was an incredible sight. I was thrilled when Oma allowed me to go to the hen-house alone and look for fresh eggs for our breakfast. How careful I was, not to break any as I put them into a basket. I loved holding the baby piglets and touching their smooth skin. I would have been heart broken, if I had known at the time that they were raised in order to be slaughtered for food need during the winter months.
I have one more quite vivid memory. Just outside of the town, there was this cultivated plot of ground. It was filled with apple, pear and cherry trees. There were raspberry and blueberry bushes and all sorts of flowers and vegetables. Every morning, after going to the well, the women and children with baskets strapped onto their shoulders would go to this beautiful garden and gather their food for the day. Needless to say, Opa made sure that I also had a basket, and made a big fuss as to how much I carried home. What a happy summer!!! I was almost sorry to see my parents and brother and knew we had to go home, to crowded, noisy, busy streets.
Perhaps because of this wonderful experience of almost eighty years ago, is the cause of my contentment living at The Fountains. The breathtaking scenery, beautifully cultivated farmlands, and small towns brings back memories of one the happiest times in my life.
Copyright © 2002-2010 Anne Humbach