My dear Jim, and family!
Hurray!! You apparently are still alive — I deduce this from the fact that a letter from the administrator in America arrived here in recent days. We don't want to doubt it — miracles do still happen in our materialistic age — but I know well that I am one of those who, if they had a right, would enjoy making fun of people who don't write much. But as Julius Schulz used to say: A little humour must be allowed. I'm glad we're in contact again, and especially glad because you had little of a sad nature to report.
What kind of academic degree is it that your son is showing off in cap and gown in the photo — does it correspond to the local Diploma exam or something like a Doctorate? I have the feeling that Arvid is still a bit young for the latter, but I know neither his exact age nor the American educational pathways and titles. By the way, in the photo he bears a certain resemblance to Martin, but that's probably just because Martin wears a very similar beard — roughly the same size and the same shade of red.
So you've been on great travels. Wonderful. When someone goes on a trip, they experience interesting and stimulating things. And the continent where you've settled is certainly worth a trip — only it's unfortunately a bit far from here, and the journey there makes transport costs not insignificant. I would give a great deal to see you again before one of us sets off on the greater journey but as long as my children still need my support, I am quite content that we manage to get to know Western Europe a little. Europe has quite a number of trips worth taking.
America probably offers the more spectacular natural wonders, but Europe has a continuity of cultures with which one feels a stronger connection: Celtic – Roman – Germanic, in chronological sequence but also as overlap and blending — that is truly fascinating. Here in Baden too, the Celts first settled, then were driven out by the Romans, or absorbed, then they were driven out by the Alemanni and partly "assimilated", and in the 5th century the Franks under Clovis arrived.
Something of all of them has remained. In the Middle Ages, monasteries like Maulbronn, Calw and others nearby played a major role. I mean more precisely not Calw but Hirsau — geographically almost the same place. Hirsau was a Benedictine foundation influenced by Cluny and played a large role in the Investiture Controversy, siding with the papacy. Maulbronn on the other hand was a Cistercian settlement brought about by Bernard of Clairvaux.
Naturally, what mostly remains now are rather meagre ruins, and what was built afterwards is clearly Gothic, but still — a ground on which Western culture and history has played out most intensively. And if you don't take the somewhat too-wide surroundings into account, you have the Middle Ages almost "in person".
Our trips to France have also been particularly lovely in that we always drive south at the end to the coast — so in 1973 we first visited the largely intact Celtic stone monuments, then grazed Burgundy — Vézelay, Cluny, Tournus — so, the Middle Ages — and then in the south were greeted by what is essentially ancient Rome, though the Middle Ages are still very much alive there too, just think of Aigues-Mortes, that Crusader fortress, but also the arenas, aqueducts etc. — that is purely Roman.
Above all, the glorious sunshine on the Côte d'Azur. I don't miss a car with air conditioning, by the way — that applies naturally to areas up to about latitude 43°, because I haven't been further south than Provence, but there was just the right thing for me, an open sunroof. In June–July I might have put on a Van Gogh-style hat during the midday hours — I bought one in Arles but have barely used it. If I really follow through on my intention to travel to Greece next spring, I'm already looking forward to it now. America, however, is, as I said, a bit far away. I'm naturally not silly enough to say that the grapes are sour just because they hang too high for me, but since they do hang so high, I had the opportunity to discover that strawberries are also an excellent fruit.
I've enclosed a few photos with this letter. They are, as you'll easily recognize, not from this area. I've always wanted to show you a little of Northern Germany, and the occasion arose as follows: We have, in the 29 years we've spent in Bremen, taken both city and countryside so much to heart that I decided to put together a Bremen-and-surroundings album for Dette's birthday. I made a few prints from my old photos of recent years and then made a selection for her to browse through. Dette was thrilled — "over the moon" — even more than I had expected, and from the many duplicates I had left over, I'm now sending you a few as well.
The atmosphere of the area can of course only be fully appreciated if you know the area well, but perhaps the photos give a small impression of what we have left behind, even though we love it. Now the local autumn is doing its best to convince us of the beauty of Southern Germany, unfolding a riot of colour that the North simply cannot offer. Everywhere around us there is a great deal of forest, whether we look out the window or drive a short distance, and it is mostly deciduous and mixed woodland — whereas in the North there was more pine to be found — and this makes the whole landscape so colourful that it defies description. The sight has an effect on me like a stimulus. Autumn in this way conveys no sense of death, quite the opposite — more the mood of a carnival of life. When I drive through the countryside, I feel almost intoxicated.
I haven't seen Remate again yet.
I believe I already wrote that, through my pension matters, I was forced to dig up old acquaintances, as I had to document all activities since my 14th birthday, either through official records or through witnesses. In this way I tracked down Rosenhagens in Hamburg, Ellen Seebeck (née Hahn) in Wolfsburg, Werner Glasenapp in Essen, Olga Raht near Hamburg, and various others somewhere in Germany. I then visited the Rosenhagens and Hahns; with the others I only telephoned and exchanged letters. In doing so I learned that Willi Fink and his wife, as well as his sister-in-law Hedi Range, live in Pforzheim. My dearly and deeply beloved Hedi I have already visited several times. She has since married, has children — two of them in America but still living at home — and is about twenty years old. She is also a grandmother several times over, is a mature woman, has completely grey hair, is diabetic, and is also quite severely handicapped by arthritis. All of this has made her quite stout. I would never have recognised her at first glance. But we get together quite often and chat about old times.
I think I'll stop for today, so there's still something left for next time. And now you have the "Black Peter" (i.e. you're left holding the bag), so to speak, because by the schedule it's your turn to write a letter.
"So, first of all, warmest greetings to all of you! Your Little One."