George Rebane

We arrived in Frankfurt am Main yesterday, descending through a cloud filled sky that sprinkled the countryside with brief showers.  This reminded me of the exact scenes I saw 45 years ago as a young second lieutenant arriving in Germany for my first duty station after Artillery School.  That eight-hour flight had been on a CL-44 turboprop run by Varig Airlines under contract to the Dept of Defense, and full of military personnel and dependents with young children.  I was blessed with a little screamer about six months old in the seat behind me – that kid must have held the Leather Lungs of 1963 title.

On yesterday’s flight Jo Ann and I were on an American Airlines 767 in business class – what a difference.  We breezed through passport and customs and were met by our longtime friends Hans and Gitta.  After lots of hugs and frenzied conversation where everyone wanted to ask all questions all at once, we walked about three miles to the airport’s parking structure where their van was waiting.  Frankfurt is the economic center of the EU and the commercial hub of all Europe with an enormous airport to match.

The ride to their house in Oberrad (a suburb) took about thirty minutes during which all of our ‘German juices’ started flowing again – Jo Ann and Gitta in the back seat.  The city looked very familiar since we were here ten years ago.  My artillery unit was based in one of the small towns surrounding Frankfurt, so this city became the local metropolis for us while in the Army where we came to the big PX to do the serious shopping while stationed here.  Our first child was born in the Frankfurt Military Hospital.

Gitta’s sister Helga with her man Peter joined us immediately after we arrived in Oberrad.  More frenzied conversation while food and champagne started arriving from the kitchen.  (l to r, Peter, Gitta, Helga, Hans)  This visit also marks the fiftieth anniversary of when in 1958 Jo Ann went to Germany as a teen-age high school exchange student.  To put this reunion into perspective, I have to remind the reader that ‘alles war auf Deutsch’ – everything was in German, our usual language when with our German friends.  And our last immersion in German was ten years ago; talk about being rusty and sounding like a five-year-old.

The conversation soon turned to politics, the economy, and the world situation.  We are blessed with friends with whom ‘daisy talk’ is not tolerated for long – substantive exchanges are the hallmarks that make these visits so memorable.  They are also a form of linguistic torture as we search for the appropriate words while our German slowly returns.  Today we both are already more fluid in these exchanges which must also handle the kind of subtle humor that Germans often inject into these conversations. 

On the agenda for today (Saturday) is a tour of downtown Frankfurt on a ‘wine tasting tram’ that will take us on a circuit of notable spots where we can disembark, walk around, and catch the next streetcar full of tipplers.  Tonight, with yet more friends in attendance, we’ll have a backyard BBQ during which at least half the world’s problems will be examined in detail and many of them solved if only … .  The clarifying properties of imbibed ethanol are simply amazing.