Shore Magazine asked me to write a piece about returning home after being away a long time. For me, that place is Heidelberg, Germany...My home in the 1970s.
Returning Home: Heidelberg, Germany
By Rick Kaempfer
(From the May 2006 issue)
When my family left Heidelberg in 1980 to move to the United States, I was seventeen years old. It was nearly two decades before I returned, and I must admit I had mixed emotions as my train arrived at the Heidelberg Bahnhof. For a town that is 800 years old, some huge changes had taken place since I last visited.
For one thing, it’s not even in the same country anymore. It’s not West Germany; it’s just plain old Germany. Another important difference was that Deutsche Marks were being phased out in favor of a brand new currency, the Euro. Most importantly, my American friends didn’t live there anymore. They were dispersed all over the globe; many of them now starting fourth and fifth-generation military families of their own.
Nevertheless, when I stepped off that train, at precisely the correct arrival time (German precision), I felt something strange. The German language, which had lain dormant in my brain since my father passed away in 1989, suddenly resurfaced. After putting my suitcases in a train station locker, I also lost control of my feet. Before I knew it, they walked me to the end of the Hauptstrasse, the main walking section in the heart of Old Heidelberg.
From the town square I could see the Heidelberg Castle, the symbol of the town, and the site of my high school prom. I stood there and waited for the emotions to overwhelm me. As great as it was to see that 16th century fortress again, I felt no more than a slight tingle in my heart. The physical surroundings had remained the same, but without my friends and family to share it with, something was missing.
I decided to go around the corner to a sidewalk café my buddies and I used to frequent. When I saw the familiar face of the same old proprietor manning the bar, everything slowly started to change. I took a seat at our old table, and suddenly my buddies were there too. The familiar schnitzel smell wafted from the kitchen, and suddenly my family was there too. A thought occurred to me, and I picked up the menu and flipped to the beer page. When I saw my Dad’s favorite beer on the menu, I knew what I had to do.
“Ein Stuttgarter Hofbrau, bitte,” I said.
“Natuerlich,” said the proprietor.
There was something comforting in seeing a familiar face in this familiar place. Plus, the jukebox inside the café was playing “Ich Hab Mein Herz in Heidelberg Verloren” (“I lost my heart in Heidelberg”), a song I hadn’t heard in years. In the back of my mind I knew I would be hearing that song in every Heidelberg shop and restaurant, but I still wasn’t prepared for the emotional wallop it provided. When my Stuttgarter Hofbrau arrived, I lifted the glass and looked up at the bright blue Heidelberg sky.
“Prosit, Dad,” I said. “We’re home.”
This is just one of my three pieces in this month's SHORE MAGAZINE. I'm really proud of this magazine. You should get a copy of it if you can--it's available in the tri-state area (Michigan, Indiana, Illinois). If you want to check out the on-line edition of the magazine, go here: http://www.visitshoremagazine.com
