Crailsheim

Early Wedneday morning, I took a stroll to locate a bakery where I purchased and attempted to consume an extremely dry, crumbly, tasteless, baked stick of dough. I think I will not be partaking of that particular goody again anytime in the future. I stopped by a fruit and vegetable stand in the marktplatz and purchased some fresh strawberries, sun-warmed and sweet smelling. They were wonderfully juicy and made up for the terrible pastry.

I departed Rothenburg, traveling across gently rolling green hills and through tiny hamlets to the town of Crailsheim, where Tim and I were stationed with the U.S. Army from 1988-1993, and where our son, Jordan, was born in 1990. Jordan was born at the Kreiskrankenhaus in downtown Crailsheim and will be 18 on July 18th when his option to be a German citizen will end. My time in Germany was really a pivotal time in my life. I was a newlywed when I arrived, my first child was born there, and my abiding passion for Europe was ignited.

Driving through Crailsheim, I was surprised to see more shops and stores than I remembered, but the McDonald´s, which had opened shortly before we left, was still going strong and had been remodeled. As I traveled toward our old military base things began to look unfamilair, until I spotted a landmark, Möbel Bohn (Bean Furniture). In front of our military quarters, in what had been an empty field, was a new shopping center and huge grocery store. I could just glimpse our old base housng through the buildings and had to circle around to locate the entrance.

Upon entering our housing area, I noticed how the trees have grown and matured, casting welcome shade over the street. The new residents are now allowed to landscape the green space between each apartment building, a strict no-no during my tenure. When the base was preparing to close in 1993 it was rumored that the housing was to be turned over to refugees from the former East Block countries. I don't actually know if that's what happened but I hope that a place I'd loved so much was used to help others build new lives. The buildings have been repainted cheerful colors with geometric desings in contrasting tones. I could see that the large window in the living/dining area had been altered to make room for a door leading onto a newly added balcony.

I walked across the road to where the military installation had actually been and all of the old buildings are gone. A new gymnasium stands where the commissary and guard shack had been and behind it empty, overgrown fields. It made me a bit melancholy. I remember walking those streets, past the barracks, to pick up mail every day or to visit the bank or Post Exchange (PX). All of it now gone. I took pictures to share with Tim and Jordan. Every one should know the place where their lives began.

I drove back downtown, parked the car, and visited a church that, somehow, Tim and I never found time to visit. I also located the hospital, still in operation, where my sweet baby was born. I had to take a picture there too. Maybe more for me than for Jordan. He has no memory of these places, however a piece of my heart still lives on there. I think a piece of Tim's does too. My memory is like a little time warp, allowing me to see fragments of the past as it was, not as it is now, and it made me cry a bit. It has been an emotional week for me.