Memories of Oktoberfest 1966

Me, Carol and ??? 1966-67 Germany

Surely going to The Oktoberfest in Munich is on everyone’s bucket list——I know it was on mine. But still, I was shocked at how many people from all over the world were there.  I had lived in Germany maybe a month and my high school friend, Carol had just arrived for her year in Germany.  So, of course, we decided to go to Munich for the Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest was far more than just beer and enormous tents with oompa music—it was a carnival with lots of rides, attractions and bright lights.  We were more entertained by the sights than by the beer but, of course, we had to give one or two of the tents a try.  I marveled at how many huge mugs of beer the be-dirndled waitresses carried. 

We were surprised when the whole place shut down at 11 PM, and we became part of a flood of thousands of party goers leaving the fair grounds.  Carol and I were technically college students 21 and 20 living abroad for a year.  We had had a great time but the mob leaving the grounds was a little scary.  I’d never seen so many drunk people in my life.  Carol and I managed to stick together at a time when there were no cell phones if we’d been separated.

Our “plan” after the Oktoberfest was to go to the Bahnhof (train station) get a train home to Memmingen or at least a train some place where we could get a room. 20somethings don’t always make the best back up plans. With thousands of party-goers milling around  the Bahnhof, we discovered that the last train for Memmingen had already left and there wouldn’t be another until the next morning.  For that matter, there were no trains leaving and we were stranded with hundreds or thousands of Oktoberfest refugees.  We decided to just hunker down like others were doing.  So, finding a spot on the bench, we tried to sleep until the guards came through and told everyone they had to leave because the Bahnhof was closing.

So we were on the streets of Munich without a place to stay.  We simply walked around outside until someone found a “back door”  into the train station.  So, we sneaked back in with about a hundred of our closest friends.  The station had minimal lighting and we found a spot on the steps to catch some sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, we were awakened by the rolling buckets of the cleaning crew.  These beefy women with their mops and brooms were scarier than the guards had been. They shooed us off the steps and out the door.  They were not to be argued with.  So, back out on the streets of Munich, we were beginning to get hungry.  This was NOT New York City which never sleeps—Munich was sleeping off a grand week of partying with no open shops or cafes.  We did finally find a place for coffee and a roll before we headed back to the Bahnhof and  a leisurely train ride back home.

From my friend Carol:  “Believe it or not, I found my journal from my stay in Germany that school year, but the details about Munich are sketchy.  I do know one thing...we didn't meet up in Munich.  I had already been in Memmingen , and we took the train to Munich on Saturday.  What I remember is that we had checked our luggage in the luggage room which was closed when we got back to the Bahnhof.  I don't know if the last train had left or not, but it didn't matter because we couldn't get our luggage.  I also don't remember being chased out of the station...all I have written is that we spent the night in the Bahnhof in the company of some American Air Force guys. “

I also wrote that we left Munich at 7:33 a.m. and got back to Memmingen at 9:00, after which we slept until noon and lunch at the Mädchenwohnheim, after which we napped again.  Somehow I got on the wrong train (really??) and had to transfer twice to get  to Stuttgart. 

I didn’t really keep much of a journal, but I did write letters home which my mother saved.  So, whose memories are correct and are there some memories we both have forgotten?  I found the letter. .. . .it’s very interesting.

Happy 51st Anniversary

 

I'd hoped at one time to have a 50th Anniversary party with our children, our siblings and a few cousins, but covid came and I was happy we could celebrate with our children and grandchildren (click here).  But, I missed celebrating with siblings.  We had a small family reunion this year with my siblings and our family at the Doubletree in Chesterfield. 

That's been our "go-to" hotel for many years because they have a full health club attached with indoor and outdoor pools and tennis courts.  They also have a small gym for basketball.  With 8 active grandchildren, it's been a wonderful place for the kids to work off some energy at our winter family gatherings.

We swam, played tennis, played games and some even went to the outlets shopping.  Mostly we just hung out and had a great time.  Kansas City, Minneapolis, Rhode Island, Ballwin and Union all came together for a Western Dinner on Saturday night.

We also managed to get some grandchildren photos in front of our house despite several clowning around!

Birth order and ages:  Brett 20, Davis 18, Roman 16, Libby 15, Eli almost 15, Anna 12, Sam 9 and Silas 7.

Stature, Nutrition and Horse racing

 I have always been "on the small side"--I am flanked by my Long cousins Bob and Steve---the three of us were born within 6 weeks of one another.  While many kids had wooden blocks on the bike pedals, I'm one of the few who had wooden blocks on the brake pedal in my first car.

When I reached my adult height of 5' 1.5", I looked around and decided I'd been "cheated".  I was smaller than both of my parents AND all of my grandparents.  Wasn't nutrition supposed to give me a boost?  I was determined to "show the world" that my height didn't matter.

 I tried out for every athletic team in high school, but only made the basketball team.  I think the coach thought I'd be annoying to the "forwards"  waving my arms, dancing and jumping around using distraction as my main weapon like a demented mosquito.  That was all for naught when we played Wellston high school: I thought those forwards were going to swat me right off the basketball court.  

But, I still puzzled why was I so short, but  saddled with the family name of "Long". God does have a sense of humor. I did not look at my dad's side of the family who bore the name "Long" but Mom's with the photo of my grandmother with her mother.  My grandmother was about 5'4" but her mother was below 5' and wore children's shoes. So, I always looked to Mattie as the reason I was so short. We have no photos of my great-grandfather G. W. Watson, but I assumed he was of normal height since Grandma was.

My great grandfather, G. W.,  died when Grandma was very young---he was killed by a horse.  Oddly my mother's other grandfather was also killed by a horse before my grandfather was born.  Mother reasoned that they were probably racing horses like teen agers race cars today.  

Being a genealogist, I searched Newspapers.com for articles about each of my great grandfathers  to find out more about their deaths (both before death certificates in Missouri).  I still haven't found anything about their deaths but I did find something very interesting.  There was a G. W. Watson racing horses from New Orleans to St. Louis.  I have no proof that this is my great grandfather other than the name, a connection to horses, in the Mississippi River valley and there is no record of him after 1909 (my great grandfather died before 1910).  The article pictured was about the Delmar race track in St. Louis.  Note how much he weighed--105 pounds.

I am going to assume that G. W. was a very small man.  While still puzzling over my grandmother being "normal" sized, I have begun reading the historical novel HORSE by Geraldine Brooks. In the book, the former slave, Harry, recalls how he achieved his small stature by having his growth stunted by his owner so he could be a jockey.  As a child if he gained weight, he was only fed one turnip and a pint of milk. . . .

Dollie Cates and Vennie Watson

Both Mattie and G. W. grew up in very poor families who lived in Tennessee and Arkansas.  She was a servant for another family at 12 years old.  He was also "farmed out" as a young teen. Undoubtedly they both had stunted growth.  When G. W. died, Mattie went to live with the Cates family as the house keeper.  Grandma grew up within that family and is even pictured with Dollie.  I think Grandma's height is thanks to the good nutrition provided by the Cates family. (click here for more about the Cates family and us)

So, why am I so "below average" in height?  Looking at photos of Mattie's distant cousins, they were all small.  So Mattie's genes made me naturally small, but nutrition and exercise have helped me attain and  maintain my height.  Like my great grandfather who used his small stature to become a jockey, I turned away from basketball and competed in gymnastics where being small was an advantage.

 G. W. being a jockey also explains why my grandparents went to Fairmount Park every weekend the horses were racing.  Horse racing was in their blood.  And, me?  One of my favorite memories of visiting Dave's parents in Arcadia, California was going to the morning workouts at Santa Anita to watch the horses and jockeys "warming up" before the races.  I may not ride, have never owned a horse, but somewhere in my ancestral past is a love of horse racing.

Mental Illness or Neurological

 When I think about it, one book probably influenced my perception of mental illness and especially schizophrenia (is the ability to hear voices a curse or a gift) That is Oliver Sachs' book The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat.  

The book describes neurological "problems" that Sachs has encountered but often he finds "the cure" is worse than the illness.  And it also got me thinking, how much of mental illness is neurological? Should we seek cures or is treatment enough?  At what point do we seek treatment? I think I began accepting mental illness as a condition like diabetes or arthritis after reading this book.  As with other neurologically diverse people, do we treat them, confine them just because they are different or do we wait until they can no longer function safely in society?

Will we evolve to be more accepting as many are now with people with Down's syndrome, trans/gay and with autism?

My fear with the conservative view that gun violence is the result of mental illness, is that we will go backwards and start committing people who are "different" to a life time of confinement.

Covid 2022

 After getting Covid 19 in January despite limiting our exposure to others and wearing a mask, I have been

firm about people wearing a mask in my house. Dave had had a home health nurse coming to check his vitals and his skin tears.  She wore a mask, and we wore KN95 masks.  I sat in another room while she attended to Dave but opening the door for her coming and going was enough to give me Covid 19. I had been vaccinated and boosted (3 months earlier), celebrated Christmas without family, wore a mask and still got it.  Thankfully I wasn't terribly sick and could still help Dave.

I've gone for a year cleaning my own house because I haven't been able to find anyone who would wear a mask while cleaning.  When Dave's grab bar in the bathroom was pulled out of the wall, I had to find a handyman who could install it---a handyman who would wear a mask. . . . I finally found one, but had to listen to his covid denial.

He told me about his mother who was in pain and couldn't get a knee replacement because of covid limiting surgery. I said nothing. He told me about his father-in-law who was in the hospital with covid, died of a heart attack, and they put that he died of covid on his death certificate. Therefore all of the covid deaths were lies---people were dying of other things not covid. I said nothing.

He told me that he was super healthy, never wore a mask and hadn't got covid. .. .but, then, he told me something that I felt I needed to respond to.  He had a very strong immune system. . ...I looked him in the eye and said, "I had a very strong immune system and never got sick until it got out of control.  I have auto-immune disease: Reynaud's Syndrome, Sjögren's Sydrome, Alopecia areata AND auto-immune hepatitis---my immune system is so strong it is rejecting my liver.  In order to live, I must take medicine which weakens my immune system.  Be very careful."  He looked at me with shock in his eyes. He left a little shaken, I think.

I don't always have a chance to respond to negative looks at me wearing a mask in public. I've thought about making "calling cards" saying "I've been wearing a mask in public since 2016".  After an hour long consultation with an infectious disease specialist, we developed a strategy to "cope" with my medically induced condition.  The difference between 2016 and 2022  is cold and flu had a season and I had some "normal" from April to November. "Normal" was still wearing a a mask in elevators, waiting rooms, and church but being able to take it off once I could determine it was a "safe" place with no one coughing or sniffling.   

During cold and flu season, I stayed home and isolated only shopping at 5 AM or on-line.  Covid, though, hasn't developed a "season" so I have to be cautious year around, now.  I'm still not eating in restaurants, going to church or going maskless in public, but thanks to quality masks and the vaccine, I am able to see family, friends, go to medical facilities without too much anxiety. I don't pray for a cure. . . .I just pray for a season.