40 years ago today, I woke up in Barcelona, Spain. Everyone got up early in anticipation of going home. We had been on the road for three weeks. We had been with each other for the three weeks. It would be nice to get home to my own bed and not have to live out of a suitcase for a while.
One of the unwritten rules I had to live by for the three weeks was not to take any pictures of the girls without makeup. I broke that rule that morning, as I had to take pictures of Sandra and Talula without makeup. They weren't thrilled, but my main reason for doing it was I had to use up the film in my camera, so that I could guard it from being exposed by any x-ray machine.
We got to the airport and onto the Pan Am plane to take us home. We didn't know that there was going to be one more stop before the trans-Atlantic flight. The plane stopped in Lisbon, Portugal. We wanted to get off of the plane and go into the airport to say we had visited Portugal, but the flight attendants wouldn't let us. They did let us go out on the tarmac briefly. So, in the three weeks, we had visited England, Italy, Israel, West Germany, East Germany, Switzerland, France, Spain and Portugal. 9 countries in 21 days. We were exhausted.
The flight home was long and boring. We tried our best to entertain ourselves. I watched the Sid Caesar film "Ten from Your Show of Shows". It was very funny. From where I was sitting in the plane, I could also watch the film "1776" which was being shown in another cabin. I also wrote music to a poem that I had written in Israel called "Save the World for the Children". Many years later, it was blessed by Pope John Paul II. The Pan Am plane landed at JFK in New York.
When we got to customs, the guy searching the bags found my rose that had been given to me in Switzerland. He got upset and started asking me a bunch of questions as to where it came from. They called a guy with the Department of Agriculture to look at my rose with a magnifier to see if there were any bugs on the rose. They didn't want anything strange to be brought into this country. The scanner saw nothing, but to be on the safe side, he broke off the flower, and handed the stem back to me. I was not pleased. I still have the stem to this day.
It was not long before our next plane took us back to Greenville. Most of us got a little sleep. Talula's head rested on Sandra's shoulder, and Sandra's head rested on my shoulder. I had a pillow.
One of the things we found, when we got home, were a lot of yellow ribbons. The song "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree" was very popular at that time. In fact, we had re-written the song while on the trip changing the line "It's been three long years" to "It's been three long weeks". Our families didn't know about that, but they got yellow ribbons to welcome us home.
Upon getting home, there was still some unfinished business. We all said goodbye to our fellow travelers. I made arrangements with Sandra to stop by her house in a few weeks and pick up some pictures she had taken and wanted to get some that I had taken. And then, there was the History course. I had to write a term paper on what I had seen. So, I wrote about the people and the experiences. The professor gave my paper back to me ungraded, and said I needed to write about the historical things I had seen. So, I went to the library and looked at a bunch of books and figured out what I had seen. It had been a blur. I got an A, but I couldn't swear in court that what was in the paper was what we actually saw.
It was a memorable experience. They say travel broadens one. I guess that is true. Although, I would like to go back and actually see the sights without fear of death. Talula, Sandra and I remain friends to this day. Many of the tour members are dead now. I sort of lost touch with them. 40 years is a long time. I pray they are okay. As for Sam, Omar and Sam? Well, you would have to ask them.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Barcelona
I have heard that Barcelona is a happening place now, but when we were there in 1973, we gave it the nickname of "Boring Barcelona". There just wasn't much to see there. We did see a stone carving by Picasso; the city hall; a cathedral; and the Court of Orange where Ferdinand and Isabella received Columbus. At the cathedral, Sandra pulled out a pair of glasses to look at a chandelier. I had never seen her wear glasses before, and I had known her for almost two years. She said she only used them to look at things she wanted to see. So, had she not seen much else on the tour? We also saw a statue of Columbus pointing toward the New World. That was where we were heading tomorrow. Back home.
Everybody was pretty tired. It had been a grueling 3 weeks of sights. An overload of the senses. Not to mention--the nerves. We went to a craft area, where they made glass and brass items. One of the ladies bought a brass sword letter opener, which was confiscated the next day by airport security. She never got it back.
We had the afternoon off. The girls and I wanted to go to the beach, which we had seen flying into the city the day before. We found out that the only way to get there was by train, and it was thirty miles away, so that idea was scrapped. We all took naps, and then it was out into the city again. I went back to the nine-story department store, and then the girls and I went shopping in dress stores. Sandra wanted to call home to say when she was coming back. The hotel still said we could not use their phones because of that strange fire in the country, but they did tell us of a post office that had phones nearby. Now, why would the post office's phones work, but not the hotel's? A question that was never answered.
We headed over to the post office, and after a lot of charades and gestures, we explained what we wanted to do. Sandra finally got through to the operator what she wanted, and then she was able to talk with the folks back home. Her spirits were lifted.
We had seen the prettiest and the ugliest that Europe and Israel had to offer. We were going home tomorrow. At least, we hoped so.
Everybody was pretty tired. It had been a grueling 3 weeks of sights. An overload of the senses. Not to mention--the nerves. We went to a craft area, where they made glass and brass items. One of the ladies bought a brass sword letter opener, which was confiscated the next day by airport security. She never got it back.
We had the afternoon off. The girls and I wanted to go to the beach, which we had seen flying into the city the day before. We found out that the only way to get there was by train, and it was thirty miles away, so that idea was scrapped. We all took naps, and then it was out into the city again. I went back to the nine-story department store, and then the girls and I went shopping in dress stores. Sandra wanted to call home to say when she was coming back. The hotel still said we could not use their phones because of that strange fire in the country, but they did tell us of a post office that had phones nearby. Now, why would the post office's phones work, but not the hotel's? A question that was never answered.
We headed over to the post office, and after a lot of charades and gestures, we explained what we wanted to do. Sandra finally got through to the operator what she wanted, and then she was able to talk with the folks back home. Her spirits were lifted.
We had seen the prettiest and the ugliest that Europe and Israel had to offer. We were going home tomorrow. At least, we hoped so.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Alto
We were leaving Paris for our last stop of our tour, which was Barcelona. I went by the perfume shop near our hotel in Paris to pick up the Paco Rabanne for me, since the girls said it smelled good on me. Anything for them. The morning was cold and rainy as we headed for the airport.
The Air France jet flew out of Paris for Barcelona. It was an uneventful flight, although the group was getting a little tired of all the places. It had been almost three weeks of airplanes, trains, buses, cars, and a lot of walking. As the plane began its descent into Barcelona, we saw a beach nearby and thought that would be a great place to go to on our free afternoon tomorrow. The beachgoers waved at our plane as we were landing.
We got our luggage, and I went toward the door of the airport. In all previous arrivals, we had just been zipped through and hadn't had to stop for customs. Behind me, I heard a man's voice yell "Alto!! Alto!!". I didn't think anything about it, and I thought to myself that I was more of a baritone or bass, and I kept walking. Right before I got to the front door of the airport, a soldier stuck a machine gun in my face and yelled "Alto!!". I figured that meant "stop". He motioned me over to the customs table. When I tried to explain that I was an American and not Spanish, he nudged me with his gun, and I complied. I could see the news report of "American shot by Soldier at airport". That wouldn't look too good.
Spain was still run by the dictator Franco, and it showed. The soldiers were on the street, and obviously in the airport. There were pictures of Franco everywhere, and streets were named after him. The city was very dark.
We got to our hotel, and found the rooms to be very sparse. Just a bed and table with a bathroom. There was a speaker on the wall that we could tune in music with, but there was just one station. In Paris, the view from our hotel window was the Opera House. The view from our window in Barcelona was a grey stone wall.
The girls and I walked around the downtown area that afternoon and found a nine-story department store. They had everything. One of my regrets is that I didn't buy the Spanish Beatle records they had for sale, but I was not into collecting then. We looked at clothes and housewares, too. There was also an open-air food market near there. They mostly had vegetables, fruits, and fish.
One of our tour members was a woman who taught Spanish in high school back home. She was looking forward to using her second language in Barcelona. That night, we ate at the hotel, and she couldn't read the menu. She found out that the Spanish she taught, and the Spanish they spoke in Barcelona, was totally different. It was the same experience I had in Paris. It turned out that she taught Mexican Spanish, and I learned Riviera French. Why couldn't everybody speak the same? So, we had to depend on the waiter to bring us something edible.
Since this was our last stop before going home, some of the people wanted to call home to tell them when we expected to arrive. The desk clerk told us that there had been a fire in the countryside, and all phone lines had burned, so there was no way for us to call out. His story didn't hold water, but we had to go with it. I felt very alone in Barcelona.
The Air France jet flew out of Paris for Barcelona. It was an uneventful flight, although the group was getting a little tired of all the places. It had been almost three weeks of airplanes, trains, buses, cars, and a lot of walking. As the plane began its descent into Barcelona, we saw a beach nearby and thought that would be a great place to go to on our free afternoon tomorrow. The beachgoers waved at our plane as we were landing.
We got our luggage, and I went toward the door of the airport. In all previous arrivals, we had just been zipped through and hadn't had to stop for customs. Behind me, I heard a man's voice yell "Alto!! Alto!!". I didn't think anything about it, and I thought to myself that I was more of a baritone or bass, and I kept walking. Right before I got to the front door of the airport, a soldier stuck a machine gun in my face and yelled "Alto!!". I figured that meant "stop". He motioned me over to the customs table. When I tried to explain that I was an American and not Spanish, he nudged me with his gun, and I complied. I could see the news report of "American shot by Soldier at airport". That wouldn't look too good.
Spain was still run by the dictator Franco, and it showed. The soldiers were on the street, and obviously in the airport. There were pictures of Franco everywhere, and streets were named after him. The city was very dark.
We got to our hotel, and found the rooms to be very sparse. Just a bed and table with a bathroom. There was a speaker on the wall that we could tune in music with, but there was just one station. In Paris, the view from our hotel window was the Opera House. The view from our window in Barcelona was a grey stone wall.
The girls and I walked around the downtown area that afternoon and found a nine-story department store. They had everything. One of my regrets is that I didn't buy the Spanish Beatle records they had for sale, but I was not into collecting then. We looked at clothes and housewares, too. There was also an open-air food market near there. They mostly had vegetables, fruits, and fish.
One of our tour members was a woman who taught Spanish in high school back home. She was looking forward to using her second language in Barcelona. That night, we ate at the hotel, and she couldn't read the menu. She found out that the Spanish she taught, and the Spanish they spoke in Barcelona, was totally different. It was the same experience I had in Paris. It turned out that she taught Mexican Spanish, and I learned Riviera French. Why couldn't everybody speak the same? So, we had to depend on the waiter to bring us something edible.
Since this was our last stop before going home, some of the people wanted to call home to tell them when we expected to arrive. The desk clerk told us that there had been a fire in the countryside, and all phone lines had burned, so there was no way for us to call out. His story didn't hold water, but we had to go with it. I felt very alone in Barcelona.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Paris
40 years ago today, it was Sunday, and we were in Paris. The tour began early with a visit to the Louvre. They told us no pictures with flash bulbs allowed. I took some pictures without a flash. You can kind of make them out, but the lighting was just not very good in the museum. But, we got to see the Mona Lisa and some other works, so it was worth it.
We left the Louvre, and the bus drove around Paris. We ended up at Notre Dame, and attended a service. Most of it was in Latin, and I didn't understand what they were saying, but I really liked the liturgy and music. I decided that if I wasn't Baptist, I would be Catholic. It was hypnotic. The stained glass window inside the cathedral was breathtaking.
After lunch, we went to the Museum of Modern Art. There was a man outside on roller skates, and he was dancing. He was very good. Inside were works by Picasso and others. I don't know why, but at every museum we would go to, the others would ask me what the artist meant in his work. Most of the time, I would just make up something, and the others would say they saw it. Kind of strange.
We then went to the overlook toward the Eiffel Tower. One of the disappointments of the trip was that we didn't get to go to the tower, but rather look at it from afar. It was the same overlook that Hitler used to survey the city. That was kind of spooky.
We left there and drove some more around the city. We went by Montmartre, the Moulin Rouge, the National Academy of Music, the Ministry of Justice, the Ritz Hotel, and the Presidential Palace. We were told that the guard at the palace wouldn't smile, so the girls took it as a challenge. They got off of the bus and tried to flirt with the guard, but no luck. They really worked it, and finally his lips moved ever so slightly. Success.
We then went to the Arch de Triumphe. I wanted to get a picture up close. We got out of the bus, and I was almost run over by cars flying in all directions. There were no traffic signals, and even if there were, nobody would have obeyed them. But, I got my picture.
The bus tour ended, and we headed back to the hotel. The girls and I went shopping at a couple of stores, including a perfume shop. They tried several fragrances, as did I. They really liked Paco Rabanne pour Homme for me. I went back to the store the next day to get a bottle. We had a light supper, since Sandra couldn't eat much with her broken tooth, and then it was back to the hotel.
The night was cool and misty. The girls didn't want to go out in that weather, but I did. I walked over to the Seine, which was not far from our hotel and walked along the bank. There was no one around, and I felt pretty safe. I then headed up to a park nearby, and sat in a chair near a fountain. Even though it was misty raining, I still felt safe, as no one was around, or so I thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man coming toward me. I got up and began to walk away. I saw he was following me. I felt he wanted to rob me, so my pace got quicker. So did his. By the time I got to the edge of the park, I was jogging. So was he. I dodged a few cars to try and lose him. He kept up with me for a couple of blocks down side streets, but I lost him. A scary end to a nice day in Paris. When I got back to the room, Mr. Vivian asked me where I had been. I told him for a walk. He was surprised, as the weather was a little gloomy. I couldn't tell him the truth about almost being mugged. I think if Mr. Vivian knew half of what had gone on with us on our trip, we would have put him in the hospital. Thankfully, he didn't.
We left the Louvre, and the bus drove around Paris. We ended up at Notre Dame, and attended a service. Most of it was in Latin, and I didn't understand what they were saying, but I really liked the liturgy and music. I decided that if I wasn't Baptist, I would be Catholic. It was hypnotic. The stained glass window inside the cathedral was breathtaking.
After lunch, we went to the Museum of Modern Art. There was a man outside on roller skates, and he was dancing. He was very good. Inside were works by Picasso and others. I don't know why, but at every museum we would go to, the others would ask me what the artist meant in his work. Most of the time, I would just make up something, and the others would say they saw it. Kind of strange.
We then went to the overlook toward the Eiffel Tower. One of the disappointments of the trip was that we didn't get to go to the tower, but rather look at it from afar. It was the same overlook that Hitler used to survey the city. That was kind of spooky.
We left there and drove some more around the city. We went by Montmartre, the Moulin Rouge, the National Academy of Music, the Ministry of Justice, the Ritz Hotel, and the Presidential Palace. We were told that the guard at the palace wouldn't smile, so the girls took it as a challenge. They got off of the bus and tried to flirt with the guard, but no luck. They really worked it, and finally his lips moved ever so slightly. Success.
We then went to the Arch de Triumphe. I wanted to get a picture up close. We got out of the bus, and I was almost run over by cars flying in all directions. There were no traffic signals, and even if there were, nobody would have obeyed them. But, I got my picture.
The bus tour ended, and we headed back to the hotel. The girls and I went shopping at a couple of stores, including a perfume shop. They tried several fragrances, as did I. They really liked Paco Rabanne pour Homme for me. I went back to the store the next day to get a bottle. We had a light supper, since Sandra couldn't eat much with her broken tooth, and then it was back to the hotel.
The night was cool and misty. The girls didn't want to go out in that weather, but I did. I walked over to the Seine, which was not far from our hotel and walked along the bank. There was no one around, and I felt pretty safe. I then headed up to a park nearby, and sat in a chair near a fountain. Even though it was misty raining, I still felt safe, as no one was around, or so I thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man coming toward me. I got up and began to walk away. I saw he was following me. I felt he wanted to rob me, so my pace got quicker. So did his. By the time I got to the edge of the park, I was jogging. So was he. I dodged a few cars to try and lose him. He kept up with me for a couple of blocks down side streets, but I lost him. A scary end to a nice day in Paris. When I got back to the room, Mr. Vivian asked me where I had been. I told him for a walk. He was surprised, as the weather was a little gloomy. I couldn't tell him the truth about almost being mugged. I think if Mr. Vivian knew half of what had gone on with us on our trip, we would have put him in the hospital. Thankfully, he didn't.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
The Train
We left Lucerne 40 years ago today by train. Our train and individual compartments within the train, and the four girls and I chose one. There was a glass door and windows facing the aisle, so all could see in. Mr. Vivian asked us not to close the blinds. I guess he didn't want any hanky panky.
The train went through the mountains and into France. We were heading toward Paris, which would be the next stop in our journey. Somewhere along the way, the train picked up a bunch of Portuguese soldiers. Having had the experience the night before with Swiss soldiers, I wasn't too thrilled about this new group of soldiers. They were supposed to be in third class, but they came onto our car and peered inside our compartment. They saw the girls and wanted to come in. I shook my head no, and they were nodding yes. It got a little dicey, when the conductor saw them and chased them away. We settled down to take naps. Sandra and I couldn't sleep, which was very unusual for her. She slept a lot on our tour buses. In fact, we all used to laugh about her sleeping, as she was missing the sights, but the train was a time for us to just laugh a lot.
When we did "Blithe Spirit" in college, I had to buy a cheap gold wedding band as a prop. I wore it on the tour, while protecting the girls, to look like I was older than I was. It helped, until we were on the train. The soldiers came back to our compartment and were rattling the door. I had it locked, but they were trying to break the lock. I pointed at my ring finger and pointed at Sandra. One of the soldiers pointed at his finger with no ring and pointed at Sandra. Once again, it was getting scary until Mr. Vivian came along and told the conductor to get rid of them. He did. The girls and I then went to the dining car for lunch. At some point during lunch, Sandra broke a tooth while eating. She didn't tell me until we got to Paris.
The train pulled into the station in Paris, and we were taken to our hotel. This one was the nicest on our tour at the Place de l'Opera. My window looked down the street at the Opera House. I was going to enjoy Paris, as I felt I was fluent in French. After we checked in, I walked outside to get my bearings. A large man came up to me on the street, and talked a mile a minute. I did not understand a word he said, even though he was speaking French. My ego deflated, and all I could tell him in French was that I was an American, and I didn't know what he was asking. He patted me on the back and excused himself. I think he was asking for directions, but I wasn't quite sure. And, after that guy in London asked me for directions earlier in the trip, I certainly didn't want to give the wrong directions again.
When I got back to the hotel, I went up to Sandra's room to see if she wanted to go out to eat, and she informed me that she had broken a tooth on the train, and the sharp edge was hurting her mouth. She said she wanted to find a dentist. It was Saturday night, so I asked the concierge about getting some help, and he suggested we call the American Hospital. I did, and told them in French that I needed a dentist, and that is was an emergency. They put me through to a dentist, and I explained the problem. He told me that it was not an emergency. I told him that Sandra was in pain. He said it wasn't an emergency. I really think he didn't want to come out on a Saturday night. He told me to tell her to put some candle wax around the broken tooth and get it fixed, when she got back to the States. That wasn't acceptable but it was all we could do.
The other girls wanted to get something to eat, and there was a little restaurant a block from our hotel. Sandra came along, and we ate there. When the waitress found out we were Americans, she was pretty rude. That old adage about the French not liking the Americans were true in her case, but I must say that most were nice. We ordered ice cream, since that was about all Sandra felt like eating. It was good.
Our hotel, even though is was very nice, sat over the subway, so when the trains would come by, the building shook. It had been a very eventful day, and despite everything, had been very nice. Sleep came very easy. We had a long day tomorrow.
The train went through the mountains and into France. We were heading toward Paris, which would be the next stop in our journey. Somewhere along the way, the train picked up a bunch of Portuguese soldiers. Having had the experience the night before with Swiss soldiers, I wasn't too thrilled about this new group of soldiers. They were supposed to be in third class, but they came onto our car and peered inside our compartment. They saw the girls and wanted to come in. I shook my head no, and they were nodding yes. It got a little dicey, when the conductor saw them and chased them away. We settled down to take naps. Sandra and I couldn't sleep, which was very unusual for her. She slept a lot on our tour buses. In fact, we all used to laugh about her sleeping, as she was missing the sights, but the train was a time for us to just laugh a lot.
When we did "Blithe Spirit" in college, I had to buy a cheap gold wedding band as a prop. I wore it on the tour, while protecting the girls, to look like I was older than I was. It helped, until we were on the train. The soldiers came back to our compartment and were rattling the door. I had it locked, but they were trying to break the lock. I pointed at my ring finger and pointed at Sandra. One of the soldiers pointed at his finger with no ring and pointed at Sandra. Once again, it was getting scary until Mr. Vivian came along and told the conductor to get rid of them. He did. The girls and I then went to the dining car for lunch. At some point during lunch, Sandra broke a tooth while eating. She didn't tell me until we got to Paris.
The train pulled into the station in Paris, and we were taken to our hotel. This one was the nicest on our tour at the Place de l'Opera. My window looked down the street at the Opera House. I was going to enjoy Paris, as I felt I was fluent in French. After we checked in, I walked outside to get my bearings. A large man came up to me on the street, and talked a mile a minute. I did not understand a word he said, even though he was speaking French. My ego deflated, and all I could tell him in French was that I was an American, and I didn't know what he was asking. He patted me on the back and excused himself. I think he was asking for directions, but I wasn't quite sure. And, after that guy in London asked me for directions earlier in the trip, I certainly didn't want to give the wrong directions again.
When I got back to the hotel, I went up to Sandra's room to see if she wanted to go out to eat, and she informed me that she had broken a tooth on the train, and the sharp edge was hurting her mouth. She said she wanted to find a dentist. It was Saturday night, so I asked the concierge about getting some help, and he suggested we call the American Hospital. I did, and told them in French that I needed a dentist, and that is was an emergency. They put me through to a dentist, and I explained the problem. He told me that it was not an emergency. I told him that Sandra was in pain. He said it wasn't an emergency. I really think he didn't want to come out on a Saturday night. He told me to tell her to put some candle wax around the broken tooth and get it fixed, when she got back to the States. That wasn't acceptable but it was all we could do.
The other girls wanted to get something to eat, and there was a little restaurant a block from our hotel. Sandra came along, and we ate there. When the waitress found out we were Americans, she was pretty rude. That old adage about the French not liking the Americans were true in her case, but I must say that most were nice. We ordered ice cream, since that was about all Sandra felt like eating. It was good.
Our hotel, even though is was very nice, sat over the subway, so when the trains would come by, the building shook. It had been a very eventful day, and despite everything, had been very nice. Sleep came very easy. We had a long day tomorrow.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
The Day I Became A Man
40 years ago today, I was in Lucerne, Switzerland as part of a tour of Europe and Israel. We were a little over 2 weeks into the tour, and we had already experienced a lot including death threats. But, we had come to a very pretty area of Europe, and all of the bad stuff had been forgotten. The 4 girls and I had gotten much closer. I still didn't like the idea of being their bodyguard, but it was a trade-off I had to live with.
We started our day visiting Mt. Pilatus in the Alps. It had the steepest cogwheel railway in the world. It was an overcast day, but one could still see the surrounding beauty of Lake Lucerne and the Alps. When we go to the top of the mountain, there was a nice overlook. I wanted a picture of the four girls, with the Alps as a backdrop. Mr. Vivian told me that I never took any pictures with another girl named Joyce. She was not in our group of four, and I guess he felt sorry for her, so much to the dislike of the other four, Joyce was included in the shot. I don't want to sound like we were mean toward Joyce, but she just didn't fit in with the rest of us. There were a lot of black birds flying around the overlook, and it took me quite a lot of patience to catch one landing on a stone wall. The descent down the mountain was done on a ski lift. Once again, it was pretty but a little frightening being up so high and depending on the cable not to break. I was glad I had packed a light jacket, because it was pretty cold up there.
We got back to the hotel and had the afternoon and evening free. The girls wanted to take their naps, which gave me the opportunity to explore Lucerne. I watched swans in the lake swallow whole apples. I walked along a covered bridge, and saw some shops that I thought the girls would like, and I saw that there was a movie theatre just down from our hotel. The movie playing was "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie", and it was in French. I had taken five years of French in school and felt pretty fluent in it. I thought Sandra and I could go to the movie that night. When she got up from her nap, I asked her if she would like to see the movie that night, and she said it would be fun. The other 3 girls were planning on washing clothes and writing postcards. Sandra was a bit wary about the movie being in French, but I told her I would translate it for her.
The other girls got up and we headed out for the shops. We went into one crystal shop that gave each of us a long-stemmed rose just for coming in. We also went to a watch store, as Sandra was interested in purchasing an Omega watch. Our impression of Lucerne was how clean it was, and how friendly everyone was. It was just an idyllic place.
After supper, Judy, Sha, and Talula said they wanted to go to a stuffed animal shop near the hotel. Sandra looked at me, and I told them that she and I were planning on going to the movie. Mr. Vivian heard our conversation and told us that the majority ruled, and that she and I would have to do what the other three wanted. We were not pleased in that decision, but it couldn't be argued, so we went with the others to the toy store and missed the movie.
It had gotten dark, and we decided to walk around Lucerne and see what they had to offer at night. There were some bars open, but most of it had shut down. We turned a corner just before the covered bridge. Judy, Sha, and Talula were walking ahead of me, and Sandra and I were bringing up the rear. Just then, I heard Sandra scream and yelled my name. I turned around to see five drunk Swiss soldiers had formed a circle and were passing Sandra around the circle. She was screaming. They were laughing. I came up behind the soldier holding her; grabbed his shoulder; and yanked him to the ground. It was a karate move I had learned when I took karate. Unfortunately, I grabbed Sandra's hair in the process, and pulled a few strands out. The soldier hit the pavement. The other four soldiers started to taunt me: "Oh big man!!". I got Sandra up and we took off running down the bridge. I had never used karate before in that manner, and haven't since.
We were scared to death. The other three girls didn't know what had happened at first, but they quickly found out. Paranoia set in. Feelings of our time in Jerusalem came back. The soldiers were mad. Were they going to follow us? We got to the other side of the bridge. I had all four girls in front of me, while I watched for the soldiers. When we got to the other side of the bridge, there was a bar there with soldiers drinking outside. We saw them and ran past. We doubled back to the hotel and took a couple of side streets to avoid them, if they were following us. I didn't see them come after us, but I wasn't taking any chances.
We got back to the hotel, exhausted. I didn't tell Mr. Vivian about what had happened, but I did tell Sandra it wouldn't have happened if we had gone to the movie. She just shrugged her shoulders. But, I felt good that I had defended her. I would have done the same for any of the other girls, but the two of us were closer friends than the others. I couldn't sleep that night, because we were going to Paris the next day. I had plans.
We started our day visiting Mt. Pilatus in the Alps. It had the steepest cogwheel railway in the world. It was an overcast day, but one could still see the surrounding beauty of Lake Lucerne and the Alps. When we go to the top of the mountain, there was a nice overlook. I wanted a picture of the four girls, with the Alps as a backdrop. Mr. Vivian told me that I never took any pictures with another girl named Joyce. She was not in our group of four, and I guess he felt sorry for her, so much to the dislike of the other four, Joyce was included in the shot. I don't want to sound like we were mean toward Joyce, but she just didn't fit in with the rest of us. There were a lot of black birds flying around the overlook, and it took me quite a lot of patience to catch one landing on a stone wall. The descent down the mountain was done on a ski lift. Once again, it was pretty but a little frightening being up so high and depending on the cable not to break. I was glad I had packed a light jacket, because it was pretty cold up there.
We got back to the hotel and had the afternoon and evening free. The girls wanted to take their naps, which gave me the opportunity to explore Lucerne. I watched swans in the lake swallow whole apples. I walked along a covered bridge, and saw some shops that I thought the girls would like, and I saw that there was a movie theatre just down from our hotel. The movie playing was "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie", and it was in French. I had taken five years of French in school and felt pretty fluent in it. I thought Sandra and I could go to the movie that night. When she got up from her nap, I asked her if she would like to see the movie that night, and she said it would be fun. The other 3 girls were planning on washing clothes and writing postcards. Sandra was a bit wary about the movie being in French, but I told her I would translate it for her.
The other girls got up and we headed out for the shops. We went into one crystal shop that gave each of us a long-stemmed rose just for coming in. We also went to a watch store, as Sandra was interested in purchasing an Omega watch. Our impression of Lucerne was how clean it was, and how friendly everyone was. It was just an idyllic place.
After supper, Judy, Sha, and Talula said they wanted to go to a stuffed animal shop near the hotel. Sandra looked at me, and I told them that she and I were planning on going to the movie. Mr. Vivian heard our conversation and told us that the majority ruled, and that she and I would have to do what the other three wanted. We were not pleased in that decision, but it couldn't be argued, so we went with the others to the toy store and missed the movie.
It had gotten dark, and we decided to walk around Lucerne and see what they had to offer at night. There were some bars open, but most of it had shut down. We turned a corner just before the covered bridge. Judy, Sha, and Talula were walking ahead of me, and Sandra and I were bringing up the rear. Just then, I heard Sandra scream and yelled my name. I turned around to see five drunk Swiss soldiers had formed a circle and were passing Sandra around the circle. She was screaming. They were laughing. I came up behind the soldier holding her; grabbed his shoulder; and yanked him to the ground. It was a karate move I had learned when I took karate. Unfortunately, I grabbed Sandra's hair in the process, and pulled a few strands out. The soldier hit the pavement. The other four soldiers started to taunt me: "Oh big man!!". I got Sandra up and we took off running down the bridge. I had never used karate before in that manner, and haven't since.
We were scared to death. The other three girls didn't know what had happened at first, but they quickly found out. Paranoia set in. Feelings of our time in Jerusalem came back. The soldiers were mad. Were they going to follow us? We got to the other side of the bridge. I had all four girls in front of me, while I watched for the soldiers. When we got to the other side of the bridge, there was a bar there with soldiers drinking outside. We saw them and ran past. We doubled back to the hotel and took a couple of side streets to avoid them, if they were following us. I didn't see them come after us, but I wasn't taking any chances.
We got back to the hotel, exhausted. I didn't tell Mr. Vivian about what had happened, but I did tell Sandra it wouldn't have happened if we had gone to the movie. She just shrugged her shoulders. But, I felt good that I had defended her. I would have done the same for any of the other girls, but the two of us were closer friends than the others. I couldn't sleep that night, because we were going to Paris the next day. I had plans.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Beautiful
40 years ago today, we continued our tour of Germany and its countryside. We left Weisbaden, and went to Heidelberg. We didn't stay long, but we did see part of the university and a church. I remember the city being a bit dark, but maybe that was because of the overcast skies. We ate lunch at a German restaurant, and the food was very good. I had bottled water with my name (Durst) on the label. My German ancestors were named Dorst, but the pronunciation was Americanized about 300 years ago. After lunch, I needed to use the restroom and found a public restroom in the center of town. To use the word "public" was an understatement. It was a building built in a depression in the road, with windows at the top, where people could look down through the windows to see you. It was strange.
Our tour went back to the Black Forest region of Germany to see a lot of quaint homes and resorts. The atmosphere was quite nice. We crossed over the border between Germany and Switzerland, and we found ourselves in what I believe is the prettiest spot in all the world. I have been to many pretty places in my life, but this place tops them all. It was called Rhinefall or Rheinfall. Depending on your taste. However you spell it, it was very nice. The Rhine River producing a waterfall. It was breathtaking. If you are ever in that part of the world, you need to go.
We reluctantly left there and began our trip into the Alps. We went by the outskirts of Zurich, and then it was on to our next stop for the night--Lucerne. When God made this area of the world, He outdid even Himself. Lucerne was a very clean city, with a lot of shops and places to eat. I could tell we were going to like it here.
Our tour went back to the Black Forest region of Germany to see a lot of quaint homes and resorts. The atmosphere was quite nice. We crossed over the border between Germany and Switzerland, and we found ourselves in what I believe is the prettiest spot in all the world. I have been to many pretty places in my life, but this place tops them all. It was called Rhinefall or Rheinfall. Depending on your taste. However you spell it, it was very nice. The Rhine River producing a waterfall. It was breathtaking. If you are ever in that part of the world, you need to go.
We reluctantly left there and began our trip into the Alps. We went by the outskirts of Zurich, and then it was on to our next stop for the night--Lucerne. When God made this area of the world, He outdid even Himself. Lucerne was a very clean city, with a lot of shops and places to eat. I could tell we were going to like it here.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
The Rhine
We left Berlin and flew back to Frankfurt. We had a little wait for our tour bus, so the girls and I ate hamburgers in the airport restaurant. A hamburger and Coke cost $15, or at least that was what we figured. Exchange rates could be a bit confusing. But, the hamburger was real beef and not like the ones we had in London. When we were still back at Anderson College, Sandra, Talula and I were in a play called "Blithe Spirit", so we entertained the others in our group, plus some bystanders with a scene from that play. Our moods had definitely changed.
Our bus finally came, and we were off on our tour of the German countryside. We went on the autobahn, which was a bit scary, and then headed down toward the Black Forest area of Germany. We stopped in Koblenz, and walked around that city. Sandra's father had been there during World War II, so it was an emotional place for her. We got to Rudescheim and boarded a boat for a Rhine River cruise. The boat ride was supposed to last two hours, but it was more like six. I guess boats can't go so fast going against the current. The trip was nice, as we saw a lot of beautiful scenery and castles, but the niceness wore off real fast, when we figured out it was going to be longer than two hours. The girls chatted up the crew on the boat. I tried to take a nap. Boredom is not fun.
We finally got to our destination, where our bus picked us up and took us to our hotel in Weisbaden. There was a nice park across from our hotel, where I went to sit and think. The girls went out and went to a club, I think. I knew I was supposed to stay with them at all times, as per Mr. Vivian's instructions, but sometimes you just need to have your space. That is what I did. However, Mr. Vivian found out that the girls weren't with me, and he was not pleased. He read me the riot act, and things changed again. I was to be on them like glue. Not a bad thing, but no more space.
Our bus finally came, and we were off on our tour of the German countryside. We went on the autobahn, which was a bit scary, and then headed down toward the Black Forest area of Germany. We stopped in Koblenz, and walked around that city. Sandra's father had been there during World War II, so it was an emotional place for her. We got to Rudescheim and boarded a boat for a Rhine River cruise. The boat ride was supposed to last two hours, but it was more like six. I guess boats can't go so fast going against the current. The trip was nice, as we saw a lot of beautiful scenery and castles, but the niceness wore off real fast, when we figured out it was going to be longer than two hours. The girls chatted up the crew on the boat. I tried to take a nap. Boredom is not fun.
We finally got to our destination, where our bus picked us up and took us to our hotel in Weisbaden. There was a nice park across from our hotel, where I went to sit and think. The girls went out and went to a club, I think. I knew I was supposed to stay with them at all times, as per Mr. Vivian's instructions, but sometimes you just need to have your space. That is what I did. However, Mr. Vivian found out that the girls weren't with me, and he was not pleased. He read me the riot act, and things changed again. I was to be on them like glue. Not a bad thing, but no more space.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Berlin
Getting to Berlin was such a welcome change to what we had been through In Jerusalem. On this date 40 years ago, we toured Berlin. Of course, this was still the time when there was a wall dividing East from West. And the contrast between the two sides was amazing.
Our first stop on our tour was going through Checkpoint Charlie and into East Berlin. The guards came on our bus with machine guns looking for any contraband. They also ran huge mirrors under the bus looking for anything. We were told ahead of time not to talk to any of the residents nor let them talk to you, as the thought was that someone might try and steal our id's to get out. So, the majority of the time we stayed on the bus or in an organized group.
We saw the Opera House; the offices of the Communist Party; Lenin Square; and the Soviet War Memorial. It was strange seeing the hammer and sickle everywhere. There were also many buildings bombed in World War II that had never been rebuilt including churches. Mr. Vivian wanted us to experience authentic German cheesecake, so we stopped at a little restaurant across from the Soviet Embassy. As we were eating this delicious snack, a girl from behind the counter came over to us and asked us if we were Americans. We said we were, and she sat down next to us, asking us a lot of questions about our lives back home. All of a sudden, a man in a trenchcoat walked up to the girl and said something to her. She hurried back to her counter. He was either Stasi or KGB, but whoever he was, she got very scared very quickly. I felt sorry for her. We then got back on the bus and headed back toward West Berlin. We had to go through the checkpoint again. This time, they were looking for smuggled people. They told us we couldn't take pictures of the wall from the East, so of course I did. But thankfully, I didn't get caught.
When we got on the West side of the wall, there was a billboard next to it that read "Durst macht Spass mit Fanta". I thought how cool my last name on a billboard. It turns out that "Durst" means "Thirst" in German. We had a very interesting morning visit in East Berlin, but I didn't want to live there.
After lunch, the girls wanted to take a nap, so I used that time to go to the zoo which was close to our hotel. I loved that place, and the relaxed environment. It was a great respite to what we had gone through the past week. I did see a strange thing though. It was a group of high school age boys. They were all over six feet with blond hair. I knew immediately who their parents had been. A part of the Aryan race that Hitler tried to do. Despite the German people trying to get away from the awful Third Reich, some things just can't be ignored, and that is the result of seeing these kids. I made mention of this sight, when I returned to college, but my teacher did not believe me, but I know what I saw.
I got back to the hotel, and found the girls had gotten up. Sandra and Talula wanted to go to a church not far from our hotel. Talula wanted a German hymnal for her pastor back home. The church had a modern section for worship, but they kept the old bombed section as a reminder of the past. We went inside and saw a gift shop, but they weren't selling any hymnals. We went into the sanctuary, and sat down in one of the pews to look at the hymnal. A minister came to us and asked us if we needed anything. Talula asked him how much one of the hymnals was, and he got very mad and told us to leave. He said that this was not a store. It was a church. So, we left. When we got outside, Sandra gave Talula a hymnal that she had taken from the church. We all thought we were going to Hell for that, but she kept it.
We got back to the hotel to drop off the hymnal and picked up the other two girls to go shopping in West Berlin. We were very careful to avoid going near the church. We found a department store, and one of the girls said she needed a washcloth. We found the department, and I used a lot of gestures and broken German to get the right washcloth. We also found from that contact that people like you better if you attempt to speak their language. Especially, if they have played charades in the past.
The tension was gone from our group. We could once again concentrate on our tour and have fun at the same time. Tomorrow was billed as a relaxing trip through Germany. I couldn't wait.
Our first stop on our tour was going through Checkpoint Charlie and into East Berlin. The guards came on our bus with machine guns looking for any contraband. They also ran huge mirrors under the bus looking for anything. We were told ahead of time not to talk to any of the residents nor let them talk to you, as the thought was that someone might try and steal our id's to get out. So, the majority of the time we stayed on the bus or in an organized group.
We saw the Opera House; the offices of the Communist Party; Lenin Square; and the Soviet War Memorial. It was strange seeing the hammer and sickle everywhere. There were also many buildings bombed in World War II that had never been rebuilt including churches. Mr. Vivian wanted us to experience authentic German cheesecake, so we stopped at a little restaurant across from the Soviet Embassy. As we were eating this delicious snack, a girl from behind the counter came over to us and asked us if we were Americans. We said we were, and she sat down next to us, asking us a lot of questions about our lives back home. All of a sudden, a man in a trenchcoat walked up to the girl and said something to her. She hurried back to her counter. He was either Stasi or KGB, but whoever he was, she got very scared very quickly. I felt sorry for her. We then got back on the bus and headed back toward West Berlin. We had to go through the checkpoint again. This time, they were looking for smuggled people. They told us we couldn't take pictures of the wall from the East, so of course I did. But thankfully, I didn't get caught.
When we got on the West side of the wall, there was a billboard next to it that read "Durst macht Spass mit Fanta". I thought how cool my last name on a billboard. It turns out that "Durst" means "Thirst" in German. We had a very interesting morning visit in East Berlin, but I didn't want to live there.
After lunch, the girls wanted to take a nap, so I used that time to go to the zoo which was close to our hotel. I loved that place, and the relaxed environment. It was a great respite to what we had gone through the past week. I did see a strange thing though. It was a group of high school age boys. They were all over six feet with blond hair. I knew immediately who their parents had been. A part of the Aryan race that Hitler tried to do. Despite the German people trying to get away from the awful Third Reich, some things just can't be ignored, and that is the result of seeing these kids. I made mention of this sight, when I returned to college, but my teacher did not believe me, but I know what I saw.
I got back to the hotel, and found the girls had gotten up. Sandra and Talula wanted to go to a church not far from our hotel. Talula wanted a German hymnal for her pastor back home. The church had a modern section for worship, but they kept the old bombed section as a reminder of the past. We went inside and saw a gift shop, but they weren't selling any hymnals. We went into the sanctuary, and sat down in one of the pews to look at the hymnal. A minister came to us and asked us if we needed anything. Talula asked him how much one of the hymnals was, and he got very mad and told us to leave. He said that this was not a store. It was a church. So, we left. When we got outside, Sandra gave Talula a hymnal that she had taken from the church. We all thought we were going to Hell for that, but she kept it.
We got back to the hotel to drop off the hymnal and picked up the other two girls to go shopping in West Berlin. We were very careful to avoid going near the church. We found a department store, and one of the girls said she needed a washcloth. We found the department, and I used a lot of gestures and broken German to get the right washcloth. We also found from that contact that people like you better if you attempt to speak their language. Especially, if they have played charades in the past.
The tension was gone from our group. We could once again concentrate on our tour and have fun at the same time. Tomorrow was billed as a relaxing trip through Germany. I couldn't wait.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Early
I guess the CIA guy finally took our fears to heart, because we were awakened at 2am to get up to leave our hotel. A lot of bleary-eyed people got their luggage together and headed downstairs. We saw two cabs that were to take all 16 of us, along with a truck for luggage to take us to Tel Aviv and out of Israel. All in the dark.
We got to Tel Aviv and the airport to another security issue. The airport searched every nook and cranny. The wooden camel I was carrying for Sandra was x-rayed and then sawed in half. I protested, but they gave me both halves and said "Here". Sandra was livid, but what could we do? She threw it in the trash. There was an Arab man in front of me in the line who had dirty socks stuffed in a vase. They wouldn't let him take his vase or socks on the plane, and he didn't want to check the vase for fear it might be broken. He was flying to Paris on business, where he sold tractors. They told him he couldn't get on the plane, if he insisted on carrying his vase on the plane. A fight began, and he was taken out of line. I never saw him again.
Our plane took off for Frankfurt at 7am, which was a little sooner than we had planned, but the girls and I were relieved that we were leaving Israel and the death threats. We were also glad we were no longer spies. It was a very good feeling. Just for a side note: a few months later, I was listening to the BBC and heard a worldwide song request show called "The Victor Sylvester Dance Party". You could send Victor requests for anyone in the world, and he would play them. So, I sent a request for him to play "Strangers in the Night" by Frank Sinatra for Sam, Omar and Sam in Jerusalem. About a month later, he did. I don't know what happened to the three Arab boys. Perhaps, they were arrested or killed. I don't know. But, if they are still alive, I would like to tell them we made it out okay, and I hope they did too.
We landed in Frankfurt a little earlier than was on our itinerary, so we had a bit of a wait. There was a statue of a large cow in the terminal that Talula liked a lot. It reminded her of home. We finally took off for Berlin, which would be our next stop on our tour. I have a lot of German heritage in my blood, and I really felt like I was coming home. I am also a student of World War II, so I was anxious to get to Berlin for that reason, as well. When we got to the airport in Berlin, I began humming the German national anthem. I got a lot of stares from the locals for that.
Our arrival at our hotel in Berlin was a bit of a culture shock. It was nice!! The deluxe accommodations were a far cry from what we had left in Jerusalem. The food was good, and the hotel staff was excellent. Our escape was complete. The girls and I walked around the downtown area that night and felt safe. We saw some stores we wanted to visit the next day. Our hotel was across from the zoo, and I knew where I wanted to go the next day. The only strange thing that happened to us at the hotel was that we had to surrender our passports with the hotel. I don't know why, but that was the rule. Okay.
We really had our first good sleep in several days. It was a blessing.
We got to Tel Aviv and the airport to another security issue. The airport searched every nook and cranny. The wooden camel I was carrying for Sandra was x-rayed and then sawed in half. I protested, but they gave me both halves and said "Here". Sandra was livid, but what could we do? She threw it in the trash. There was an Arab man in front of me in the line who had dirty socks stuffed in a vase. They wouldn't let him take his vase or socks on the plane, and he didn't want to check the vase for fear it might be broken. He was flying to Paris on business, where he sold tractors. They told him he couldn't get on the plane, if he insisted on carrying his vase on the plane. A fight began, and he was taken out of line. I never saw him again.
Our plane took off for Frankfurt at 7am, which was a little sooner than we had planned, but the girls and I were relieved that we were leaving Israel and the death threats. We were also glad we were no longer spies. It was a very good feeling. Just for a side note: a few months later, I was listening to the BBC and heard a worldwide song request show called "The Victor Sylvester Dance Party". You could send Victor requests for anyone in the world, and he would play them. So, I sent a request for him to play "Strangers in the Night" by Frank Sinatra for Sam, Omar and Sam in Jerusalem. About a month later, he did. I don't know what happened to the three Arab boys. Perhaps, they were arrested or killed. I don't know. But, if they are still alive, I would like to tell them we made it out okay, and I hope they did too.
We landed in Frankfurt a little earlier than was on our itinerary, so we had a bit of a wait. There was a statue of a large cow in the terminal that Talula liked a lot. It reminded her of home. We finally took off for Berlin, which would be our next stop on our tour. I have a lot of German heritage in my blood, and I really felt like I was coming home. I am also a student of World War II, so I was anxious to get to Berlin for that reason, as well. When we got to the airport in Berlin, I began humming the German national anthem. I got a lot of stares from the locals for that.
Our arrival at our hotel in Berlin was a bit of a culture shock. It was nice!! The deluxe accommodations were a far cry from what we had left in Jerusalem. The food was good, and the hotel staff was excellent. Our escape was complete. The girls and I walked around the downtown area that night and felt safe. We saw some stores we wanted to visit the next day. Our hotel was across from the zoo, and I knew where I wanted to go the next day. The only strange thing that happened to us at the hotel was that we had to surrender our passports with the hotel. I don't know why, but that was the rule. Okay.
We really had our first good sleep in several days. It was a blessing.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Sunday Spying
July 15, 1973 was a Sunday. The morning was crammed with things to do. We went to the birthplace of John the Baptist; the Israeli government offices; the Mount of Olives; the Garden of Gethsemane; and the Israeli Museum. Outside of the museum, there were a group of school kids waiting to go in. One little boy was getting picked on by his classmates. I identified with him, as I had the same problem growing up. I told the kids to line up, and I would take their picture. While they were waiting, I got the persecuted boy to stand by himself, and I took his picture. I just wanted to give him a good feeling. I hope he got through life okay. We went inside the museum and saw the Dead Sea Scrolls.
We left the museum and went to a church service at the Jerusalem Baptist Church. It was small and adjacent to the Baptist Book Store. Sandra bought a large wooden camel for the folks back home, and I carried it. It was pretty heavy, as it was solid wood, but it was a nice piece. Our last stop took us to the Upper Room. It had been a full morning, and we were looking forward to an afternoon of rest.
Even though the Arab stores were closed on Sunday, we didn't feel safe outside the hotel on our own, so we stayed inside. I wrote some postcards. The girls used the time to sunbathe and wash clothes. In the evening, our "friend" from the government came by to get our report. We told him that several people from the neighborhood were friends with Sam, Omar and Sam, and that perhaps they needed to be checked out too. We told him about feeling like prisoners, but tomorrow we would leave Israel for our next stop in our tour, and maybe our night would be one were we could get a little sleep before leaving early the next morning for Tel Aviv. Maybe.
We left the museum and went to a church service at the Jerusalem Baptist Church. It was small and adjacent to the Baptist Book Store. Sandra bought a large wooden camel for the folks back home, and I carried it. It was pretty heavy, as it was solid wood, but it was a nice piece. Our last stop took us to the Upper Room. It had been a full morning, and we were looking forward to an afternoon of rest.
Even though the Arab stores were closed on Sunday, we didn't feel safe outside the hotel on our own, so we stayed inside. I wrote some postcards. The girls used the time to sunbathe and wash clothes. In the evening, our "friend" from the government came by to get our report. We told him that several people from the neighborhood were friends with Sam, Omar and Sam, and that perhaps they needed to be checked out too. We told him about feeling like prisoners, but tomorrow we would leave Israel for our next stop in our tour, and maybe our night would be one were we could get a little sleep before leaving early the next morning for Tel Aviv. Maybe.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The 2nd Day
On the morning of the second day of being a spy for the CIA, we got a rude awakening. It was a message from Sam, Omar and Sam. They would let us continue on our tour, but if they saw us outside the hotel by ourselves, we would be killed. They weren't kidding either. They had found out that we were supposed to spy on them.
How? Well, it seemed that the night before I had called Sandra's room to talk about what had happened at dinner. A switchboard operator was a friend of the 3 Arab boys, and the operator listened in on our conversation. Apparently, the 3 boys had a lot of friends, because we found out early on that we were being watched. The operator, or someone else, told the 3 boys what was going on, and they were not happy about it. We both confirmed that suspicion on the 14th, when we were talking about stuff that wouldn't matter to anyone, and we both heard a click on our phones that proved someone else was listening.
On the morning of July 14th, we started our tour of Jerusalem and its environs. Our tour started with the Garden Tomb. There were actually two tombs on display in Jerusalem where Jesus was to have been buried, but the Garden Tomb made more sense. We had a very worshipful experience there. We then visited Lazarus's tomb and onto Bethlehem. It was very crowded, but we got to see where Jesus was born. We then carried onto the old city of Jerusalem. When we got there, a little boy attached himself to our group. He was trying to sell us rolls of mints--1 for a quarter or 2 for 25 cents. We thought this was funny, as he had no concept of American money. We talked him down to 1 for a quarter or 4 for 25 cents. He got excited that he made a sale. We found out later that he was also a friend of Sam, Omar and Sam and he was sent to watch us.
In the old city, we saw a lot of places, such as Pilate's court, Solomon's temple, the Wailing Wall, and the Dome of the Rock. We went inside there, and I found it to be one of the worst smelling places I had ever been in. One had to remove one's shoes before entering the site, and they had these beautiful Oriental rugs on the floor. Imagine hundreds of smelly feet in one place. It was pretty bad. There was one area of the city we were going to after lunch--the Church of the Holy Sepulchre but the four girls and I decided not to go there, as we wanted the afternoon free.
At this time, we still did not know that the hotel staff was feeding information about us to Sam, Omar and Sam. We just thought they were nice people, so the girls wanted to find a beauty salon nearby to get their hair done. They asked the desk staff where they could go, and they were told of a salon behind the hotel and across the street. Since we knew that the boys, or their representatives, were watching the front of the hotel, I asked if we could use the service entrance in the back to get to the salon. The hotel staff said yes, so I went first, and the girls followed me. We ran from the back of the hotel, across the street, and into the hair salon. We explained to the owner why we had to run, and why I was watching out the window of the salon. We told her about the three boys and the threat they had made toward us. While we were in there, the three boys showed up and started banging on the window of the salon. They were calling us names, and we were very frightened. It was apparent to us that the hotel staff and called the boys to tell them where we were. They could not have found out about it otherwise, because only the desk knew where we were. The salon owner told us that the 3 Arab boys were crazy, and she called the police to get them to leave. The police came, and cleared the area, so that we could return to the hotel. The girls looked nice, but I was a nervous wreck.
When we got back to the hotel, I got the girls to go to their rooms, and I ran across the street from the front of the hotel to a drug store. I needed something to calm my stomach. An elderly Arab man was there, and I explained my situation. He asked me who was causing this, and I said Sam, Omar and Sam. A worried look came upon his face, and he told me that those three boys were crazy. Exactly what the woman in the beauty salon said. They had a reputation for causing trouble, and he said that they made that neighborhood look bad in the eyes of the authorities. I can't say whether they were terrorists or not, as the CIA man said, but I can say that they seemed to be in charge of a group similar to a crime syndicate interested in making life bad for decent people. I thanked the druggist, and he said he would watch out for us, and call the police if he thought we were in danger.
The rest of the group got back from their tour, and told us how we should have gone. We didn't tell them about our experience. Supper came, and so did our new friend from the consulate. We told him what had happened, and he took some notes. He seemed to take it all in stride. What had he gotten us into?
After supper, we went to our rooms, and I picked up the phone to call Sandra. That is when we heard the click. We decided that we would no longer trust the phones or the hotel staff. Everything would be said to each other in person and in small groups. We could hear the boys outside our rooms on the street yelling at us. That went on for a while, and then we left. We were prisoners in our hotel, and the hotel staff were the guards. Sleep was at a premium.
How? Well, it seemed that the night before I had called Sandra's room to talk about what had happened at dinner. A switchboard operator was a friend of the 3 Arab boys, and the operator listened in on our conversation. Apparently, the 3 boys had a lot of friends, because we found out early on that we were being watched. The operator, or someone else, told the 3 boys what was going on, and they were not happy about it. We both confirmed that suspicion on the 14th, when we were talking about stuff that wouldn't matter to anyone, and we both heard a click on our phones that proved someone else was listening.
On the morning of July 14th, we started our tour of Jerusalem and its environs. Our tour started with the Garden Tomb. There were actually two tombs on display in Jerusalem where Jesus was to have been buried, but the Garden Tomb made more sense. We had a very worshipful experience there. We then visited Lazarus's tomb and onto Bethlehem. It was very crowded, but we got to see where Jesus was born. We then carried onto the old city of Jerusalem. When we got there, a little boy attached himself to our group. He was trying to sell us rolls of mints--1 for a quarter or 2 for 25 cents. We thought this was funny, as he had no concept of American money. We talked him down to 1 for a quarter or 4 for 25 cents. He got excited that he made a sale. We found out later that he was also a friend of Sam, Omar and Sam and he was sent to watch us.
In the old city, we saw a lot of places, such as Pilate's court, Solomon's temple, the Wailing Wall, and the Dome of the Rock. We went inside there, and I found it to be one of the worst smelling places I had ever been in. One had to remove one's shoes before entering the site, and they had these beautiful Oriental rugs on the floor. Imagine hundreds of smelly feet in one place. It was pretty bad. There was one area of the city we were going to after lunch--the Church of the Holy Sepulchre but the four girls and I decided not to go there, as we wanted the afternoon free.
At this time, we still did not know that the hotel staff was feeding information about us to Sam, Omar and Sam. We just thought they were nice people, so the girls wanted to find a beauty salon nearby to get their hair done. They asked the desk staff where they could go, and they were told of a salon behind the hotel and across the street. Since we knew that the boys, or their representatives, were watching the front of the hotel, I asked if we could use the service entrance in the back to get to the salon. The hotel staff said yes, so I went first, and the girls followed me. We ran from the back of the hotel, across the street, and into the hair salon. We explained to the owner why we had to run, and why I was watching out the window of the salon. We told her about the three boys and the threat they had made toward us. While we were in there, the three boys showed up and started banging on the window of the salon. They were calling us names, and we were very frightened. It was apparent to us that the hotel staff and called the boys to tell them where we were. They could not have found out about it otherwise, because only the desk knew where we were. The salon owner told us that the 3 Arab boys were crazy, and she called the police to get them to leave. The police came, and cleared the area, so that we could return to the hotel. The girls looked nice, but I was a nervous wreck.
When we got back to the hotel, I got the girls to go to their rooms, and I ran across the street from the front of the hotel to a drug store. I needed something to calm my stomach. An elderly Arab man was there, and I explained my situation. He asked me who was causing this, and I said Sam, Omar and Sam. A worried look came upon his face, and he told me that those three boys were crazy. Exactly what the woman in the beauty salon said. They had a reputation for causing trouble, and he said that they made that neighborhood look bad in the eyes of the authorities. I can't say whether they were terrorists or not, as the CIA man said, but I can say that they seemed to be in charge of a group similar to a crime syndicate interested in making life bad for decent people. I thanked the druggist, and he said he would watch out for us, and call the police if he thought we were in danger.
The rest of the group got back from their tour, and told us how we should have gone. We didn't tell them about our experience. Supper came, and so did our new friend from the consulate. We told him what had happened, and he took some notes. He seemed to take it all in stride. What had he gotten us into?
After supper, we went to our rooms, and I picked up the phone to call Sandra. That is when we heard the click. We decided that we would no longer trust the phones or the hotel staff. Everything would be said to each other in person and in small groups. We could hear the boys outside our rooms on the street yelling at us. That went on for a while, and then we left. We were prisoners in our hotel, and the hotel staff were the guards. Sleep was at a premium.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
The Company
40 years ago today, I was in Jerusalem. We were preparing for our morning tour, and Mr. Vivian had a meeting with me and the four girls about the need for protection. The girls weren't pleased about the fact that I would have to go with them everywhere, and I wasn't too pleased that I couldn't go where I wanted, but it was now the rule. I had a brown belt in karate, and I carried a small pen knife in my pocket, so that would have to do. Just a curious side note here: we went through some of the heaviest security at airports in the world, especially Tel Aviv, and no one ever questioned my knife. They questioned a lot of other stuff like toothpaste and vitamins.
As we were leaving the hotel, there was a camel parked on the sidewalk across the street. He wasn't for us. A boy was using him for a taxi. The tour today took us outside of Jerusalem into the countryside. We saw a building where the guide said was the Inn of the Good Samaritan. We saw many things that one had to take on faith. We then went to the ancient city of Jericho and saw the ruins there. Back in 1966, my father visited the same place, and he brought a piece of the wall back for me. We couldn't do the same in 1973. We then went on to see the Mount of Temptation, and then to the Dead Sea. By the time we got there, the air temperature had risen to 127 degrees. All one had to do was get off of the bus, and you would get an instant sunburn. It was incredibly hot. Some wanted to float in the water, but we didn't, as it was just too hot. There was an ice machine there that literally burned up when the motor overheated. We also visited Qumran where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found.
The afternoon was free to do what we wanted. The girls and I went back to the Jordan Bazaar to hang out with Sam, Omar and Sam. They told us all about their lives in Israel, and the hardships they had. They also wanted to find out about America, and we were happy to tell them. We struck up a great friendship.
That night, at supper, we had a visitor at dinner. He identified himself as the political attaché at the US Consulate. For those of you not hip to this language, he worked for the Company. Or, let's be frank--the Central Intelligence Agency. I don't know how he knew, but he said that he knew that we had been hanging out with Sam, Omar and Sam, and we were to stop associating with them. He explained that those three boys were enemies of the United States. He said that Henry Kissinger was in town trying to broker a peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis, and our relationship with Sam, Omar and Sam could jeopardize his negotiations. Considering the time frame of July 1973, there was a war that broke out between the Syrians and the Israelis in October 1973, which Israel won. The man then said that Sam, Omar and Sam were terrorists.
This news was rather shocking. They seemed like nice guys. Our picture of terrorists came from the 1972 Munich Olympics slaughter. These three guys seemed nothing like those in Munich. So, I told the guy that these three boys had become our friends, and I thought it would look very suspicious if we suddenly stopped seeing them. The man thought for a minute and then said to us to keep up our friendship with them and find out everything we could about them, and then he would be back to visit us at dinner for the rest of the nights we would be in Jerusalem, and we would tell him what we had found out. This sounded like spying to us, so we asked him what if we refused. He told us that the United States government would revoke our passports and send us home. This guy was not kidding. What could we do? How would we explain it to our parents that our trip had been cut short halfway through the tour? After all, the trip had been paid for already. No money would be refunded. And then, what about our college credit for the trip? Would we lose that too? The girls and I had a meeting and decided to do what the man said. We would be spies for America. Years later, there was a hearing in Congress about the CIA using civilians for intelligence gathering, and they flatly denied it. I had to laugh, because we were unpaid agents for our government in Jerusalem in July 1973.
As we were leaving the hotel, there was a camel parked on the sidewalk across the street. He wasn't for us. A boy was using him for a taxi. The tour today took us outside of Jerusalem into the countryside. We saw a building where the guide said was the Inn of the Good Samaritan. We saw many things that one had to take on faith. We then went to the ancient city of Jericho and saw the ruins there. Back in 1966, my father visited the same place, and he brought a piece of the wall back for me. We couldn't do the same in 1973. We then went on to see the Mount of Temptation, and then to the Dead Sea. By the time we got there, the air temperature had risen to 127 degrees. All one had to do was get off of the bus, and you would get an instant sunburn. It was incredibly hot. Some wanted to float in the water, but we didn't, as it was just too hot. There was an ice machine there that literally burned up when the motor overheated. We also visited Qumran where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found.
The afternoon was free to do what we wanted. The girls and I went back to the Jordan Bazaar to hang out with Sam, Omar and Sam. They told us all about their lives in Israel, and the hardships they had. They also wanted to find out about America, and we were happy to tell them. We struck up a great friendship.
That night, at supper, we had a visitor at dinner. He identified himself as the political attaché at the US Consulate. For those of you not hip to this language, he worked for the Company. Or, let's be frank--the Central Intelligence Agency. I don't know how he knew, but he said that he knew that we had been hanging out with Sam, Omar and Sam, and we were to stop associating with them. He explained that those three boys were enemies of the United States. He said that Henry Kissinger was in town trying to broker a peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis, and our relationship with Sam, Omar and Sam could jeopardize his negotiations. Considering the time frame of July 1973, there was a war that broke out between the Syrians and the Israelis in October 1973, which Israel won. The man then said that Sam, Omar and Sam were terrorists.
This news was rather shocking. They seemed like nice guys. Our picture of terrorists came from the 1972 Munich Olympics slaughter. These three guys seemed nothing like those in Munich. So, I told the guy that these three boys had become our friends, and I thought it would look very suspicious if we suddenly stopped seeing them. The man thought for a minute and then said to us to keep up our friendship with them and find out everything we could about them, and then he would be back to visit us at dinner for the rest of the nights we would be in Jerusalem, and we would tell him what we had found out. This sounded like spying to us, so we asked him what if we refused. He told us that the United States government would revoke our passports and send us home. This guy was not kidding. What could we do? How would we explain it to our parents that our trip had been cut short halfway through the tour? After all, the trip had been paid for already. No money would be refunded. And then, what about our college credit for the trip? Would we lose that too? The girls and I had a meeting and decided to do what the man said. We would be spies for America. Years later, there was a hearing in Congress about the CIA using civilians for intelligence gathering, and they flatly denied it. I had to laugh, because we were unpaid agents for our government in Jerusalem in July 1973.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Jerusalem
We left the kibbutz, and did a tour of Israel from the north toward Jerusalem. We took a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee. We saw the Sermon on the Mount area. We went to Capernaum and saw where Jesus taught. We saw Peter's house. Mr. Vivian baptized Talula in the Jordan River. Several people wanted pictures of that moment, so he actually baptized her several times. I have thought that Talula is very blessed because of that. We had lunch at the Sea of Galilee at a restaurant overlooking the water. They served something called "St. Peter's Fish". It was a fish which was caught there; thrown in a pot of boiling water to kill it; and served it up head, scales, eyes and all. They gave you a knife and fork and said go at it. It reminded me of dissecting class in school. It really was kind of gross, especially looking out of the window of the restaurant to see guys in fishing boats with gasoline slicks on the top of the water. And my fish came out of there? It really put me off of eating fish for a long time after that. It hasn't been until the last few years when I have started to eat fish again.
That afternoon, we went to Megiddo and the Valley of Armageddon. The Bible was really coming alive for us. Since our guide was Armenian, we got to go to Samaria and see Jacob's well. Had our guide been Jewish, we could not have gone to Samaria, so that was a real treat. We headed up the mountains toward Jerusalem.
Our hotel was on the Arab Quarter of Jerusalem not far from the US Consulate. It was also very close to Herod's Gate and the Old City. The hotel was again not a deluxe one, but it was comfortable. We had water purification tablets with us, because the water was a bit suspect, but we found that Coca-Cola worked just as well and was safer. The food was great. I loved the Arab music.
That night, the girls and I went a block down the street from our hotel to a souvenir shop called the Jordan Bazaar. There were three guys who ran the place. Two brothers and a cousin. Their names were Sam, Omar, and Sam. They were in their mid-twenties. As we wanted to get the local flavor of the place where we were visiting, we asked the boys if they would take us around the neighborhood. They said they would, and were closing up their shop around 9:30, and for us to be back then. Sha decided not to go with us, but Judy, Sandra, Talula and me did. Each boy walked with a girl, and I walked behind them alone. The boys and girls had their arms around each other, and I was walking behind Sandra as we toured the neighborhood at night. Sandra reached around the boy and waved at me. I thought it was a signal to drop back further, so I did. Later, she told me she was just waving at me. I dropped further back to when they were no longer in sight, and I got lost.
Jerusalem at night is very dark. I walked through housing areas which were very poor. I came upon some Hassidic Jews and asked them for directions back to my hotel, but they wouldn't speak to me. It was getting close to midnight by now, and I was getting kind of scared. I had no idea where I was. I came upon a taxi and asked the driver to take me to the hotel. He did, and it turned out I was only a block from there. I gave him $1 to take my a block, but I was quite relieved.
When I got back, Mr. Vivian was waiting for me. He asked me where I was, and I told him I had gotten lost. He said the girls had gotten back about an hour earlier, and they didn't know where I was. I really wasn't sure if he was more concerned about me being lost, or rather me not being with the girls and chaperoning them. Whatever his motives, he was pretty mad. He told me from now on, I would have to go where the girls went. I would have to be their bodyguard. The trouble was just beginning.
That afternoon, we went to Megiddo and the Valley of Armageddon. The Bible was really coming alive for us. Since our guide was Armenian, we got to go to Samaria and see Jacob's well. Had our guide been Jewish, we could not have gone to Samaria, so that was a real treat. We headed up the mountains toward Jerusalem.
Our hotel was on the Arab Quarter of Jerusalem not far from the US Consulate. It was also very close to Herod's Gate and the Old City. The hotel was again not a deluxe one, but it was comfortable. We had water purification tablets with us, because the water was a bit suspect, but we found that Coca-Cola worked just as well and was safer. The food was great. I loved the Arab music.
That night, the girls and I went a block down the street from our hotel to a souvenir shop called the Jordan Bazaar. There were three guys who ran the place. Two brothers and a cousin. Their names were Sam, Omar, and Sam. They were in their mid-twenties. As we wanted to get the local flavor of the place where we were visiting, we asked the boys if they would take us around the neighborhood. They said they would, and were closing up their shop around 9:30, and for us to be back then. Sha decided not to go with us, but Judy, Sandra, Talula and me did. Each boy walked with a girl, and I walked behind them alone. The boys and girls had their arms around each other, and I was walking behind Sandra as we toured the neighborhood at night. Sandra reached around the boy and waved at me. I thought it was a signal to drop back further, so I did. Later, she told me she was just waving at me. I dropped further back to when they were no longer in sight, and I got lost.
Jerusalem at night is very dark. I walked through housing areas which were very poor. I came upon some Hassidic Jews and asked them for directions back to my hotel, but they wouldn't speak to me. It was getting close to midnight by now, and I was getting kind of scared. I had no idea where I was. I came upon a taxi and asked the driver to take me to the hotel. He did, and it turned out I was only a block from there. I gave him $1 to take my a block, but I was quite relieved.
When I got back, Mr. Vivian was waiting for me. He asked me where I was, and I told him I had gotten lost. He said the girls had gotten back about an hour earlier, and they didn't know where I was. I really wasn't sure if he was more concerned about me being lost, or rather me not being with the girls and chaperoning them. Whatever his motives, he was pretty mad. He told me from now on, I would have to go where the girls went. I would have to be their bodyguard. The trouble was just beginning.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Israel
The first full day in Israel was amazing. There was a TV in the hotel lobby, and I saw the Watergate hearings from Washington. It was really the first access I had from back home in almost a week. The hotel gave our group a fruit basket filled with bananas, grapefruit, oranges, and more. We decided to save it for later that day. We set out on our tour bus with our guide named Nazar. He was Armenian, and thus we could go places with him that we couldn't go to if we had a Jewish guide. So, we started with going to Joppa and then to Haifa, where we had lunch. We toured all over the northern half of Israel. We went to Nazareth and saw the boyhood home of Jesus. As we were leaving Nazareth, we came upon a group of children who crowded around our bus looking for money. Mr. Vivian had told us not to give money to the kids, so we thought of our fruit basket. We decided as a group to give the fruit to the children. A riot and fight began between the children. They fought over the fruit. One boy was so proud to hold up the peel from the grapefruit. He didn't get any of the fruit, but he got the peel. There was dust all in the air from the riot over the fruit, and our bus pulled away leaving behind a lot of happy children.
Along the way, we were also told not to take any pictures of Israeli army camps, but of course I took pictures of them anyway. Thankfully, I didn't get caught. The political air in Israel was tense. We saw soldiers in the streets. The Israelis thought nothing of it, but it was obvious there was tension. Even at the Rome airport the day before, there was a guy with a machine gun watching over the luggage area. But, the security around Israel was far greater.
We ended our day near the Sea of Galilee at a kibbutz called Nof Ginnosaur. It was a beautiful retreat. One of the things they had to sell there was brandy candy. It had a hard shell with liquid brandy inside. The girls and I hate them, but we didn't let the older adults have any, because once again we would have gotten in trouble. The candy was good, and some of us got a little buzz from it. The kibbutz was quiet and we slept soundly.
Along the way, we were also told not to take any pictures of Israeli army camps, but of course I took pictures of them anyway. Thankfully, I didn't get caught. The political air in Israel was tense. We saw soldiers in the streets. The Israelis thought nothing of it, but it was obvious there was tension. Even at the Rome airport the day before, there was a guy with a machine gun watching over the luggage area. But, the security around Israel was far greater.
We ended our day near the Sea of Galilee at a kibbutz called Nof Ginnosaur. It was a beautiful retreat. One of the things they had to sell there was brandy candy. It had a hard shell with liquid brandy inside. The girls and I hate them, but we didn't let the older adults have any, because once again we would have gotten in trouble. The candy was good, and some of us got a little buzz from it. The kibbutz was quiet and we slept soundly.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Revenge
One of the rules for traveling with the group of 16 was to be in the lobby ready to go 30 minutes before the time. That was to assure that everyone would be on time. We were scheduled to leave the hotel in Rome for the airport at 10am. All had left wake-up calls with the desk. So, at 9:30 the group started to assemble.
At 9:45, most everyone was there except for Sandra and Talula. Mr. Vivian was getting worried, because the bus would be there at 10, and we had a flight to catch. I called their room, and a sleepy Sandra answered the phone. I told her they had 15 minutes to get downstairs, and she slammed the phone down. It seems that the hotel got them back for the trick we had played on the bellhop the night before, and they didn't give the wake-up call to Sandra's room. The girls threw on some clothes, and ran downstairs just in time for the bus. When they got downstairs, they looked over to the desk and found the employees smiling at them. It was revenge. We vowed never to come back there again.
We got to the airport and boarded a flight to Tel Aviv. It was our next stop on the tour. We flew over the water and got into Tel Aviv that afternoon, or as Talula liked to call it: "Tel Aviva". Our hotel was the Pan American on the water. It was very nice and modern, especially after the last two hotels on the tour. I learned later that a couple of the girls met a couple of Israeli guys to learn something of the area. I dipped my toes in the water.
The rest of the day was uneventful, but that was soon to change.
At 9:45, most everyone was there except for Sandra and Talula. Mr. Vivian was getting worried, because the bus would be there at 10, and we had a flight to catch. I called their room, and a sleepy Sandra answered the phone. I told her they had 15 minutes to get downstairs, and she slammed the phone down. It seems that the hotel got them back for the trick we had played on the bellhop the night before, and they didn't give the wake-up call to Sandra's room. The girls threw on some clothes, and ran downstairs just in time for the bus. When they got downstairs, they looked over to the desk and found the employees smiling at them. It was revenge. We vowed never to come back there again.
We got to the airport and boarded a flight to Tel Aviv. It was our next stop on the tour. We flew over the water and got into Tel Aviv that afternoon, or as Talula liked to call it: "Tel Aviva". Our hotel was the Pan American on the water. It was very nice and modern, especially after the last two hotels on the tour. I learned later that a couple of the girls met a couple of Israeli guys to learn something of the area. I dipped my toes in the water.
The rest of the day was uneventful, but that was soon to change.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Rome
On July 9th, we toured Rome. I was feeling better after the health scare the day before and was ready to take on this new city. The guide said that Rome was the city of love, because "Roma" spelled backwards was "Amor". I took French and know it is spelled "Amour", but I guess it was the thought that counted. We saw the Coliseum, the Forum, Circus Maximus, Paul's jail, what may have been the chains that held Paul, and Vatican City. We toured St. Peter's and the Sistine Chapel. We were told not to take pictures inside the chapel, but one of our group did anyway, and we were almost kicked out of there. It took all of our tour guide to talk the people into letting us stay. We also went to Trevi Fountain and tossed coins in there. We just had a very nice day.
In keeping with the younger ones on the tour and their pact, we went to a restaurant by ourselves to eat pasta and drink wine. Mr. Vivian was a Baptist preacher and didn't approve of alcohol in any form. We found we had wine on our breath, so everyone ate a whole bunch of breath mints and tried not to get too close to him the rest of the day. I think he knew, but he didn't chastise us.
That afternoon, we continued our tour of Rome and saw a bunch more things, and then we had some time off. The girls and I went back to the Spanish Steps to soak up the flavor of Rome. They also had more contact with the Roman boys trying to pinch them.
After supper, we all went to our rooms to get some rest. We were flying out tomorrow for Tel Aviv, and it was going to be a long flight. As I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang and it was Sandra. She sounded frightened, and said I needed to come to her room, as she was afraid she was going to die. I had known Sandra almost two years, and we were very close friends. She never liked to talk about death, and I knew this was serious. I told Mr. Vivian that the girls needed me, but I didn't say why. I threw on some clothes and went down the hall to their room.
I knocked on the door, and a frightened voice asked who was it. When I said it was me, they opened the door. Both Sandra and Talula were trembling. Sandra told me that she was taking a shower and needed more towels. There were some buttons on the bedside table. One was for the bellhop and the other was for the maid. She thought she had pressed the button for the maid, but it was for the bellhop. When a knock came on the door, she opened it wearing nothing. The bellhop smiled; she screamed; and shut the door in his face. They were afraid he would come back to get more of what he had seen. They asked me what they should do, and I suggested they call him back, and find me in the room. So, the plan went from there. It was decided that they would call for the guy to come back. I would be hiding in the bathroom. When he would show up, I was to come out of the bathroom while zipping up my pants, and invite him in for a foursome. So, we implemented the plan. They rang for the bellhop. He knocked on the door within seconds. He must have run up the stairs. They invited him in. I came around the corner and said hello. We all laughed. He got embarrassed and left. We had a good laugh over it, and I went back to my room. Mr. Vivian asked what they wanted, and I just said they wanted to talk about the day. I didn't think it concerned him. Boy, was I wrong.
In keeping with the younger ones on the tour and their pact, we went to a restaurant by ourselves to eat pasta and drink wine. Mr. Vivian was a Baptist preacher and didn't approve of alcohol in any form. We found we had wine on our breath, so everyone ate a whole bunch of breath mints and tried not to get too close to him the rest of the day. I think he knew, but he didn't chastise us.
That afternoon, we continued our tour of Rome and saw a bunch more things, and then we had some time off. The girls and I went back to the Spanish Steps to soak up the flavor of Rome. They also had more contact with the Roman boys trying to pinch them.
After supper, we all went to our rooms to get some rest. We were flying out tomorrow for Tel Aviv, and it was going to be a long flight. As I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang and it was Sandra. She sounded frightened, and said I needed to come to her room, as she was afraid she was going to die. I had known Sandra almost two years, and we were very close friends. She never liked to talk about death, and I knew this was serious. I told Mr. Vivian that the girls needed me, but I didn't say why. I threw on some clothes and went down the hall to their room.
I knocked on the door, and a frightened voice asked who was it. When I said it was me, they opened the door. Both Sandra and Talula were trembling. Sandra told me that she was taking a shower and needed more towels. There were some buttons on the bedside table. One was for the bellhop and the other was for the maid. She thought she had pressed the button for the maid, but it was for the bellhop. When a knock came on the door, she opened it wearing nothing. The bellhop smiled; she screamed; and shut the door in his face. They were afraid he would come back to get more of what he had seen. They asked me what they should do, and I suggested they call him back, and find me in the room. So, the plan went from there. It was decided that they would call for the guy to come back. I would be hiding in the bathroom. When he would show up, I was to come out of the bathroom while zipping up my pants, and invite him in for a foursome. So, we implemented the plan. They rang for the bellhop. He knocked on the door within seconds. He must have run up the stairs. They invited him in. I came around the corner and said hello. We all laughed. He got embarrassed and left. We had a good laugh over it, and I went back to my room. Mr. Vivian asked what they wanted, and I just said they wanted to talk about the day. I didn't think it concerned him. Boy, was I wrong.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Health Scare
We left our London Hotel on the 8th for the airport. No breakfast. I have had a problem with motion sickness all of my life and have taken pills for it, and today was no different. Preparation is the key. So, we headed to Heathrow to take a place to Rome, which was our next stop on the tour.
Our plane was BEA. It stood for British European Airways, but they really should have called it the train with wheels. They had seats facing one another as a train does. I was in a seat that faced the back of the plane. It was a very weird feeling. Just after takeoff, the attendants brought around a lunch of ham. It didn't look very appetizing, so I skipped it. I knew that when we got to Rome, the food would be better than what he had experienced in England.
Just then, the plane dropped what seemed like 8000 feet in 2 seconds. It was like being on a runaway elevator. It was like some of those rides at the amusement park. But, this was different. My stomach was left up in the air, and I began to hyperventilate. I couldn't breathe, and my blood pressure was sky high. I thought I was having a heart attack at 20 years of age. All of the blood rushed out of my face, which turned as white as a sheet. My skin was clammy, and I was sweating profusely, despite being cold. My friends summoned a flight attendant, who took one look at me, and declared a medical emergency. The plane was too far along to turn back, so they decided to head onto Rome. They cleared out the seat and had me lie down on the three seats. They brought oxygen. They had me breathe into a paper bag. There were a couple of doctors on the flight. One gave me some pills. I don't know what they were, but nothing was helping. Both men and women attendants were working on me. It was a very scary situation to say the least. The doctors had run out of ideas, and preparation was made to have an ambulance meet the plane to take me to a hospital.
There was an elderly British lady sitting three rows back who told the attendant--"Give him hot tea". As they had done everything else, she gave me the tea as a last resort. After all, nothing else had worked. I drank the tea, and the color came back in my face. I stopped sweating, and I no longer felt cold. My blood pressure came down, and I stopped hyperventilating. I was back to normal. The ambulance was cancelled. I don't know who that lady was, but I thank God she was on my flight. It also kind of goes to show that home remedies sometimes work just as well as fancy doctors.
So, we landed in Rome. Everyone asked me how I was doing. I felt fine. And then, those drugs I had been given on the plane kicked in, and I was flying high. I smiled a lot. The older folks in my group thought I was just happy to be on the ground. Some of the younger ones knew better.
The girls were told that guys in Rome liked to pinch butts, and just be aware of that. They brushed it off as being silly advice, but they learned very quickly that the advice was good. We went to the Spanish Steps, which was close to our hotel, and the girls had to take extra care. It was kind of funny to watch. Our hotel was the Imperiale. It was an old hotel with some modern conveniences. It was nicer than the one we left in London, but still not a deluxe hotel. I spent that night sleeping off my drugs. We had a busy day tomorrow.
Our plane was BEA. It stood for British European Airways, but they really should have called it the train with wheels. They had seats facing one another as a train does. I was in a seat that faced the back of the plane. It was a very weird feeling. Just after takeoff, the attendants brought around a lunch of ham. It didn't look very appetizing, so I skipped it. I knew that when we got to Rome, the food would be better than what he had experienced in England.
Just then, the plane dropped what seemed like 8000 feet in 2 seconds. It was like being on a runaway elevator. It was like some of those rides at the amusement park. But, this was different. My stomach was left up in the air, and I began to hyperventilate. I couldn't breathe, and my blood pressure was sky high. I thought I was having a heart attack at 20 years of age. All of the blood rushed out of my face, which turned as white as a sheet. My skin was clammy, and I was sweating profusely, despite being cold. My friends summoned a flight attendant, who took one look at me, and declared a medical emergency. The plane was too far along to turn back, so they decided to head onto Rome. They cleared out the seat and had me lie down on the three seats. They brought oxygen. They had me breathe into a paper bag. There were a couple of doctors on the flight. One gave me some pills. I don't know what they were, but nothing was helping. Both men and women attendants were working on me. It was a very scary situation to say the least. The doctors had run out of ideas, and preparation was made to have an ambulance meet the plane to take me to a hospital.
There was an elderly British lady sitting three rows back who told the attendant--"Give him hot tea". As they had done everything else, she gave me the tea as a last resort. After all, nothing else had worked. I drank the tea, and the color came back in my face. I stopped sweating, and I no longer felt cold. My blood pressure came down, and I stopped hyperventilating. I was back to normal. The ambulance was cancelled. I don't know who that lady was, but I thank God she was on my flight. It also kind of goes to show that home remedies sometimes work just as well as fancy doctors.
So, we landed in Rome. Everyone asked me how I was doing. I felt fine. And then, those drugs I had been given on the plane kicked in, and I was flying high. I smiled a lot. The older folks in my group thought I was just happy to be on the ground. Some of the younger ones knew better.
The girls were told that guys in Rome liked to pinch butts, and just be aware of that. They brushed it off as being silly advice, but they learned very quickly that the advice was good. We went to the Spanish Steps, which was close to our hotel, and the girls had to take extra care. It was kind of funny to watch. Our hotel was the Imperiale. It was an old hotel with some modern conveniences. It was nicer than the one we left in London, but still not a deluxe hotel. I spent that night sleeping off my drugs. We had a busy day tomorrow.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
London
London was a case of near-misses. Of course, "near-misses" could also mean "near-hits", and it was. During the morning, we did all of the familiar tourist stuff like the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, and Trafalgar Square. We had lunch there and ordered hamburgers. It could have been beef. Hard to tell. I asked the guide if the bus could go by Savile Row and the Ministry of Defence. After all, my two big loves are The Beatles and James Bond, and they were kind of enough to do that. After lunch, we went by The Old Curiosity Shoppe, and got pictures there. Then, it was back to the hotel.
I dropped my camera, and the film popped out. I really wasn't sure for the rest of the trip if my camera worked or not. Thankfully, it was okay. After a brief rest, two of the older women in the group and me decided we wanted to go to the British Museum. We took the tube there, and arrived 30 minutes before closing. I saw the Rosetta Stone, and that was about it. As we were leaving the museum, I stepped off of a curb and about got run down by a car. I forgot to look right and then left. You know, England is backwards traffic-wise. Mrs. Sitton, one of our tour group, dropped her camera in the street, and it broke into several pieces. She ended up buying postcards and slides of the places we went afterwards, and she even had to buy another suitcase later on to hold the stuff.
We got back to the hotel, and I wrote a letter to Apple Records in London suggesting that they record me and my friends back in the States. I thought it was a good letter, but I never heard back. I guess they got a lot of letters like that. We went to the theatre that night to see "The Mousetrap" by Agatha Christie. I guess it was a good play, but I slept through most of it. I was still feeling the jet lag. I didn't find out until years later that one of the actors in the play later went on to play "M" in the James Bond films--Robert Brown. I wish I had known that at the time.
We really didn't spend enough time in London. But, July 8th was to bring us Rome and another near-miss.
I dropped my camera, and the film popped out. I really wasn't sure for the rest of the trip if my camera worked or not. Thankfully, it was okay. After a brief rest, two of the older women in the group and me decided we wanted to go to the British Museum. We took the tube there, and arrived 30 minutes before closing. I saw the Rosetta Stone, and that was about it. As we were leaving the museum, I stepped off of a curb and about got run down by a car. I forgot to look right and then left. You know, England is backwards traffic-wise. Mrs. Sitton, one of our tour group, dropped her camera in the street, and it broke into several pieces. She ended up buying postcards and slides of the places we went afterwards, and she even had to buy another suitcase later on to hold the stuff.
We got back to the hotel, and I wrote a letter to Apple Records in London suggesting that they record me and my friends back in the States. I thought it was a good letter, but I never heard back. I guess they got a lot of letters like that. We went to the theatre that night to see "The Mousetrap" by Agatha Christie. I guess it was a good play, but I slept through most of it. I was still feeling the jet lag. I didn't find out until years later that one of the actors in the play later went on to play "M" in the James Bond films--Robert Brown. I wish I had known that at the time.
We really didn't spend enough time in London. But, July 8th was to bring us Rome and another near-miss.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Jet Lag
As I said yesterday, I have never been able to sleep on a plane. I don't know why, but it is just me. At any rate, we flew over Ireland, as the sun was coming up. It was very green. Then, we flew into foggy London. I was very glad our pilots knew where the airport was, because we couldn't see it. The clock said 7am, but our bodies said 2am. It was rather fortunate that the tour gave us this day to recover from the flight.
We got our bags and waited for what seemed like an eternity for our bus to take us into London. It finally came and off we went to our hotel--the Mount Royal at Marble Arch. They weren't ready for us to check in, so we just sat around for what seemed like another eternity. Some slept in the lobby, which wasn't very big. The hotel had been built during the war as a place for soldiers. It wasn't quite a deluxe hotel. But, it was across the street from Hyde Park, so it wasn't a total loss. I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. I found a restaurant, and asked them to make me a grilled cheese sandwich. My stomach was a little queasy from not getting any sleep. They looked at me like I was crazy. How to make a grilled cheese sandwich? I explained that you take two slices of bread; put a piece of cheese in the middle with some mayo; and toast it. They told me they couldn't do that, so they made me a quiche instead. Not quite the same.
After I poked that and ate a little, I went walking again. An American stopped me on the street and asked me where the American embassy was. I had no clue, but I used my British accent that I had developed for a play in college, and told him it was just down the street about three blocks. He asked if I was an American, and I told him I lived there now, but I grew up in Kent in England. He bought the lie and headed off down the street. I found out later that I had sent him in the wrong direction.
I got back to the hotel in time to check in. Got a nap, and then it was time for supper.
Bean soup. Not the best, but certainly not the worst. Although, it was a little spicy, and we asked for something to drink, which came at the end of the meal. I was already missing the cuisine of home. I like England, but I am not crazy about their food. After the supper, the girls and I went exploring out in the area around the hotel and came upon an underground market. It was closed, but the smell of the bread was heavenly. I should mention here that, when I mention "the girls", I am referring to Sandra, Talula, Judy, and Sha. The first three were girls I went to school with at Anderson. Sha was still in high school, but we let her hang with us, since she and Judy were friends. Sandra, Talula, and I were very close, as we had been in plays together, and we great friends. So, as we were in the closed market, we made a pact. We would stay together and have fun together. We would also try to experience the local flavor of the places we were visiting. The idea was that we would do the pre-arranged tour, but we would also talk to the locals, and visit places not on the tour. We wanted the total experience. This would get us into trouble later, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
We got our bags and waited for what seemed like an eternity for our bus to take us into London. It finally came and off we went to our hotel--the Mount Royal at Marble Arch. They weren't ready for us to check in, so we just sat around for what seemed like another eternity. Some slept in the lobby, which wasn't very big. The hotel had been built during the war as a place for soldiers. It wasn't quite a deluxe hotel. But, it was across the street from Hyde Park, so it wasn't a total loss. I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. I found a restaurant, and asked them to make me a grilled cheese sandwich. My stomach was a little queasy from not getting any sleep. They looked at me like I was crazy. How to make a grilled cheese sandwich? I explained that you take two slices of bread; put a piece of cheese in the middle with some mayo; and toast it. They told me they couldn't do that, so they made me a quiche instead. Not quite the same.
After I poked that and ate a little, I went walking again. An American stopped me on the street and asked me where the American embassy was. I had no clue, but I used my British accent that I had developed for a play in college, and told him it was just down the street about three blocks. He asked if I was an American, and I told him I lived there now, but I grew up in Kent in England. He bought the lie and headed off down the street. I found out later that I had sent him in the wrong direction.
I got back to the hotel in time to check in. Got a nap, and then it was time for supper.
Bean soup. Not the best, but certainly not the worst. Although, it was a little spicy, and we asked for something to drink, which came at the end of the meal. I was already missing the cuisine of home. I like England, but I am not crazy about their food. After the supper, the girls and I went exploring out in the area around the hotel and came upon an underground market. It was closed, but the smell of the bread was heavenly. I should mention here that, when I mention "the girls", I am referring to Sandra, Talula, Judy, and Sha. The first three were girls I went to school with at Anderson. Sha was still in high school, but we let her hang with us, since she and Judy were friends. Sandra, Talula, and I were very close, as we had been in plays together, and we great friends. So, as we were in the closed market, we made a pact. We would stay together and have fun together. We would also try to experience the local flavor of the places we were visiting. The idea was that we would do the pre-arranged tour, but we would also talk to the locals, and visit places not on the tour. We wanted the total experience. This would get us into trouble later, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Anticipation
On July 5th, 1973 (40 years ago today), I began a journey that I did not know what was in store. All I knew was that I was about to embark on a trip to Europe and Israel, as part of a college History course. The tour was being conducted by my Speech and Theatre professor at Anderson College, Mr. Vivian, and I was going with some friends from school, as well as some current and retired school teachers, mostly from the Anderson area. There were 16 people on the trip, and I was the only guy except for Mr. Vivian. Consequently, he and I would share a room in the hotels.
We left Greenville/Spartanburg Airport around noon and flew to Charlotte. It was a short flight, and then on a flight from Charlotte to JFK in New York. We got to NYC around 4, and had about three hours to kill before our flight to London. One thing I learned early on was that I had to watch my friends like a hawk, because they all had a habit of wandering off, which is what they did. When our flight was called, the girls were nowhere to be found. Panic set in. I ran through the concourse looking for them. When I finally found them, we had just a few minutes left. This was one theme that would be repeated in all sorts of ways.
Our plane to London was Pan Am. They gave each of us shoulder bags. Our dinner on the plane was Roast Duck. It was kind of swanky. I have never been able to sleep on a plane, so I watched the film they had for is, which was "The Thief Who Came to Dinner" starring Ryan O'Neal. I am sure it is a good film, but it was rather difficult to follow with no sleep. Of course, I was also excited about what was to come, or what I thought would come. Sometimes, one's thoughts are not quite what actually happens, and I would find that out during the trip.
The day ended somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Next stop--London.
We left Greenville/Spartanburg Airport around noon and flew to Charlotte. It was a short flight, and then on a flight from Charlotte to JFK in New York. We got to NYC around 4, and had about three hours to kill before our flight to London. One thing I learned early on was that I had to watch my friends like a hawk, because they all had a habit of wandering off, which is what they did. When our flight was called, the girls were nowhere to be found. Panic set in. I ran through the concourse looking for them. When I finally found them, we had just a few minutes left. This was one theme that would be repeated in all sorts of ways.
Our plane to London was Pan Am. They gave each of us shoulder bags. Our dinner on the plane was Roast Duck. It was kind of swanky. I have never been able to sleep on a plane, so I watched the film they had for is, which was "The Thief Who Came to Dinner" starring Ryan O'Neal. I am sure it is a good film, but it was rather difficult to follow with no sleep. Of course, I was also excited about what was to come, or what I thought would come. Sometimes, one's thoughts are not quite what actually happens, and I would find that out during the trip.
The day ended somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Next stop--London.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Sleeping Outside
I first went camping, when I was a Boy Scout. I learned how to sleep in a sleeping bag, and to sleep on the ground. One must use their past experiences throughout life, if one wants to do well. Being homeless and sleeping on the ground is kind of like camping. Especially, if you use that as a frame of reference.
When the winter shelter closed the first of April, it did so, because the general thought was that by April the weather would be warm enough at night for one to sleep outside if needed. Of course, that arbitrary date does not always coincide with nature, so the first few weeks outside were pretty cold at night. One of my homeless friends told me I could stay with him and his friend. There was safety in numbers. One of the rules of being homeless is never reveal where you are sleeping, because you don't want to ruin it for other homeless people, especially if it is a good place. Needless to say though, it was a place that protected us from the rain, and we only had a couple of times where our lives were threatened. My friend got a sleeping bag for me, and he also carried some steak knives for protection. We only needed them the couple of times our lives were threatened. The difference though between camping and being homeless was that we slept on concrete, which was a little hard on the bones. So, sleep is a bit of a misnomer. I didn't sleep much at night. I slept more in the library during the day.
Another part of sleeping outside is that you always need to know where your stuff is. I had all of my things in my backpack, which I got from the Army/Navy Store. The other two guys hid their packs during the day. They got robbed. I kept my backpack with me. So, I didn't get robbed. They were a little suspicious of that. The other downside to where we were was that it was pretty close to some railroad tracks, and the trains would come by pretty much all the time. I tried to block them out, but it was pretty tough.
Thankfully, that place found out that we were there, so we had to move. I was taken in by another group of guys, and we slept closer into downtown. It was kind of amazing that we slept on concrete very close to a street, but no one bothered us. If anyone looked beyond a hedge, there we were. Hiding in plain sight. There was a custodian at one building who knew we were there, but he didn't seem to care. I slept better there than the first place. It still wasn't a bed, but I felt safe.
Another homeless friend got a motel room and invited me there. I stayed there a few nights in an actual bed until his money ran out from his disability check, and I was back on the street. As I have said before, the homeless community is just that. A community. They watch out for each other. I would not recommend it for everyone, but it would be nice if everyone volunteered at a shelter or some other community project, just to get the feel of what it is like. Some people see the homeless as pariahs on the community, but they are people just like you or me. They are looking to survive, and maybe get a little respect from others. Is that too much to ask?
When the winter shelter closed the first of April, it did so, because the general thought was that by April the weather would be warm enough at night for one to sleep outside if needed. Of course, that arbitrary date does not always coincide with nature, so the first few weeks outside were pretty cold at night. One of my homeless friends told me I could stay with him and his friend. There was safety in numbers. One of the rules of being homeless is never reveal where you are sleeping, because you don't want to ruin it for other homeless people, especially if it is a good place. Needless to say though, it was a place that protected us from the rain, and we only had a couple of times where our lives were threatened. My friend got a sleeping bag for me, and he also carried some steak knives for protection. We only needed them the couple of times our lives were threatened. The difference though between camping and being homeless was that we slept on concrete, which was a little hard on the bones. So, sleep is a bit of a misnomer. I didn't sleep much at night. I slept more in the library during the day.
Another part of sleeping outside is that you always need to know where your stuff is. I had all of my things in my backpack, which I got from the Army/Navy Store. The other two guys hid their packs during the day. They got robbed. I kept my backpack with me. So, I didn't get robbed. They were a little suspicious of that. The other downside to where we were was that it was pretty close to some railroad tracks, and the trains would come by pretty much all the time. I tried to block them out, but it was pretty tough.
Thankfully, that place found out that we were there, so we had to move. I was taken in by another group of guys, and we slept closer into downtown. It was kind of amazing that we slept on concrete very close to a street, but no one bothered us. If anyone looked beyond a hedge, there we were. Hiding in plain sight. There was a custodian at one building who knew we were there, but he didn't seem to care. I slept better there than the first place. It still wasn't a bed, but I felt safe.
Another homeless friend got a motel room and invited me there. I stayed there a few nights in an actual bed until his money ran out from his disability check, and I was back on the street. As I have said before, the homeless community is just that. A community. They watch out for each other. I would not recommend it for everyone, but it would be nice if everyone volunteered at a shelter or some other community project, just to get the feel of what it is like. Some people see the homeless as pariahs on the community, but they are people just like you or me. They are looking to survive, and maybe get a little respect from others. Is that too much to ask?
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