Just an update: Had dinner with the Pohly’s last night. As always, it was an adventure. I love to watch them just beat the crap out of each other. I think it’s funny the way Gregg gets in on it. Lori just sits and watches. She is definitely a patient woman.
Stefan was an exchange student from Germany. Why, for the love of God, he wanted to live in Walker County for his exchange is beyond me. The only thing that I could figure is that you don’t get a choice. I guess living on Smith Lake is the only redeeming quality. But, Curry wasn’t like Düsseldorf, Germany at all. Either way, Stefan was on the scene.
Stefan was possibly the nicest guy I ever met. I never heard him raise his voice at all. I remember begging him to yell just once. He just laughed at me. Of course we did the usual getting him to tell us curse words in German and dirty phrases. Go ahead and judge me. I don’t give a scheise (I had to).
Stefan spent about a year here. I believe he stayed longer than other exchange students normally do. I don’t remember for sure. We got to be great friends. Jay, Stefan, and I were thick as thieves.
I had called Stefan in Germany in the spring of ’89. He said something toward the end of the conversation that stuck with me. He said, “Why don’t you come see us this winter and ski in Switzerland?” I thought it was absurd at first. I laughed. I told him that I would think about it. Think about it I did. It was all that I could think about. I finally concluded that not only was this possible, but that it was destiny.
My dad had been to Israel in ’86. I remember seeing his video that he made. It was basically a video of every step he made throughout the country, a real showstopper. It was hilarious. They had a guide who would tell them what they were seeing everywhere they went. That is usually handy. My dad felt it was necessary to video by stepping back a few yards and give his own description of what he was seeing. There were a couple of problems with this. One, he was seeing it for the first time. Second, was that when two people are speaking at once all you get is confused. So, he had a tape of beautiful scenery if you mute the television. In this video, he had filmed the Swiss Alps out his plane window. I thought to myself, “One day I will ski there.”
I started working that summer to save my money. I told my parents my plans. I was 18. I saved up. I checked with a travel agent that I knew. There was no internet back in the day. I purchased a ticket for Frankfurt for about $682, I believe. I told my parents the dates.
In January, I boarded a plane headed to Cincinnati and then to Frankfurt. My mom cried as I stepped onto the jet way.
This was my first time on a commercial jet and my first time out of the country. The only German I knew was what I read in one of those tour books and the very unhelpful phrases and words that Stefan taught me. I was a bit unprepared. But, I was ready to take on the world. I traveled by myself to a foreign land.
I get to Frankfurt. I have 3 bags and I am wearing a heavy coat. When I get there, I start passing through the gates one by one. I am supposed to meet Stefan’s mom somewhere there. But, I have no clue where. Each time I pass through a section of the airport I cannot go back. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
I got to the customs desk. I am standing there. The very unfriendly German guy takes my passport. He looks at it, looks at me, and hands it back. I didn’t know; but, I thought that he was at least supposed to stamp it or something. He didn’t. For the rest of the day, I thought that I was in the country illegally. I was extremely nervous. I passed through the door behind him and continued on without asking any clarifying questions. That was real smart.
One door opened into this huge mall like area. I was still looking for Stefan’s mom, Ingrid. She was not there. If she had been I would have never found her. I am now thinking that I was in the country illegally and lost.
I got to the last set of doors that opened to the street. This was my last hope. I was sweating like a moose. Remember, I have never seen Ingrid. The doors open and standing there is this lady and a fossil, later discovered to be Stefan’s grandmother. I could tell it was my ride by their faint smiles. I am sure I looked a bit weary.
We jump into this Audi. Ingrid is driving. I am riding shotgun. The fossil somehow got into the back seat. From there she never whimpered or moved again, even at speeds of about 90-100mph. This was my first trip on the Autobahn and a woman was driving me with a near dead old lady in the back seat. Neither of them spoke English. Well, the old one didn’t speak words. I guess she was conserving her energy for breathing. We get to the border of Switzerland and Germany, where I am to meet Stefan.
I jump into the car with Stefan and Marion. We head to the checkpoint. Remember that I am thinking I am in the country illegally. We pulled up to the guy with a huge gun strapped to his back. I truly figured that he is going to take one look at my passport, yank me from the car, and beat the crap out of me with the butt of his gun. He didn’t, much to my surprise. We drove through beautiful Switzerland from there.
Switzerland is gorgeous. Once we got into the mountains, I was in love with it. We wound through the snow-covered mountains. I was enraptured in the moment, soaking all of it in. We drove this Volkswagen onto an open train car, kind of like a train ferry. I just sat and stared at the landscape. The train took us into places that only it could go. That meant undisturbed beauty.
We arrived at our chalet. It was nestled in the Saas Grundt region, down near the Italian border. I was ready to ski.
We got up the next day to go skiing. We walked up the mountain because Europeans walk everywhere. I started my skiing. Stefan was teaching me. I learned pretty fast. For lunch, we decided to grab a bite on the mountain.
We jump on this huge sky bucket thing. It held about 50 people, crammed in. I am in for a real adventure. I just don’t realize it. From the sky bucket, we get on an incline train. We eventually arrive at the top, somewhere around 14,000 feet. We unload from the train and grab our skies and head over to the restaurant. I thought we took our skies because we didn’t want anyone to steal them.
We eat. It was great. The view was exhilarating. I saw glacial ice, deep snow, and the Swiss Alps were surrounding me. We finished our meals. We got up and grabbed our skies. I was taken by the view. When I turned around, Stefan and his friends had their skies on. Fear struck me. Remember this was my first day skiing.
I said, “What are we doing?”
Stefan said, “We are skiing down.”
I said, “You might be. But, I’m not.”
Stefan said, “They won’t let you ride down.”
I said, “Hide and watch. I’m not skiing down.”
As I was skiing down the mountain, I was in a panic. Little loud-mouthed British kids were flying by me like I was tied to a tree. It was so steep, that I was leaned up against the mountain. I almost lost my life once. I was skiing toward the edge of the mountain that led directly to a 1,000 feet drop off into glacial ice. I busted through a flimsy, orange, plastic, fence that outlined the boundaries that I had far exceeded at this point. When I fell, I landed where I could see my impending death. I was looking off at the glacier.
I managed to get back up and ski. I peed all the way down the slope leaving yellow markers wherever I landed. I was marking my trail I guess. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life. I did survive. I got to the bottom and went back up to ski again. I did it so that I could master it. I have never regretted it.
Now, I ski about twice a year unless I tear an ACL or something. I absolutely love to ski. I look forward to it every year.
It may be a loose application and may seem simple. But, I jumped through a lot of hoops to enjoy something so much. I remember thinking that I would never do this again. How silly was that. I love skiing.
I love you, your servant, your friend,
Tim
Stefan was an exchange student from Germany. Why, for the love of God, he wanted to live in Walker County for his exchange is beyond me. The only thing that I could figure is that you don’t get a choice. I guess living on Smith Lake is the only redeeming quality. But, Curry wasn’t like Düsseldorf, Germany at all. Either way, Stefan was on the scene.
Stefan was possibly the nicest guy I ever met. I never heard him raise his voice at all. I remember begging him to yell just once. He just laughed at me. Of course we did the usual getting him to tell us curse words in German and dirty phrases. Go ahead and judge me. I don’t give a scheise (I had to).
Stefan spent about a year here. I believe he stayed longer than other exchange students normally do. I don’t remember for sure. We got to be great friends. Jay, Stefan, and I were thick as thieves.
I had called Stefan in Germany in the spring of ’89. He said something toward the end of the conversation that stuck with me. He said, “Why don’t you come see us this winter and ski in Switzerland?” I thought it was absurd at first. I laughed. I told him that I would think about it. Think about it I did. It was all that I could think about. I finally concluded that not only was this possible, but that it was destiny.
My dad had been to Israel in ’86. I remember seeing his video that he made. It was basically a video of every step he made throughout the country, a real showstopper. It was hilarious. They had a guide who would tell them what they were seeing everywhere they went. That is usually handy. My dad felt it was necessary to video by stepping back a few yards and give his own description of what he was seeing. There were a couple of problems with this. One, he was seeing it for the first time. Second, was that when two people are speaking at once all you get is confused. So, he had a tape of beautiful scenery if you mute the television. In this video, he had filmed the Swiss Alps out his plane window. I thought to myself, “One day I will ski there.”
I started working that summer to save my money. I told my parents my plans. I was 18. I saved up. I checked with a travel agent that I knew. There was no internet back in the day. I purchased a ticket for Frankfurt for about $682, I believe. I told my parents the dates.
In January, I boarded a plane headed to Cincinnati and then to Frankfurt. My mom cried as I stepped onto the jet way.
This was my first time on a commercial jet and my first time out of the country. The only German I knew was what I read in one of those tour books and the very unhelpful phrases and words that Stefan taught me. I was a bit unprepared. But, I was ready to take on the world. I traveled by myself to a foreign land.
I get to Frankfurt. I have 3 bags and I am wearing a heavy coat. When I get there, I start passing through the gates one by one. I am supposed to meet Stefan’s mom somewhere there. But, I have no clue where. Each time I pass through a section of the airport I cannot go back. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
I got to the customs desk. I am standing there. The very unfriendly German guy takes my passport. He looks at it, looks at me, and hands it back. I didn’t know; but, I thought that he was at least supposed to stamp it or something. He didn’t. For the rest of the day, I thought that I was in the country illegally. I was extremely nervous. I passed through the door behind him and continued on without asking any clarifying questions. That was real smart.
One door opened into this huge mall like area. I was still looking for Stefan’s mom, Ingrid. She was not there. If she had been I would have never found her. I am now thinking that I was in the country illegally and lost.
I got to the last set of doors that opened to the street. This was my last hope. I was sweating like a moose. Remember, I have never seen Ingrid. The doors open and standing there is this lady and a fossil, later discovered to be Stefan’s grandmother. I could tell it was my ride by their faint smiles. I am sure I looked a bit weary.
We jump into this Audi. Ingrid is driving. I am riding shotgun. The fossil somehow got into the back seat. From there she never whimpered or moved again, even at speeds of about 90-100mph. This was my first trip on the Autobahn and a woman was driving me with a near dead old lady in the back seat. Neither of them spoke English. Well, the old one didn’t speak words. I guess she was conserving her energy for breathing. We get to the border of Switzerland and Germany, where I am to meet Stefan.
I jump into the car with Stefan and Marion. We head to the checkpoint. Remember that I am thinking I am in the country illegally. We pulled up to the guy with a huge gun strapped to his back. I truly figured that he is going to take one look at my passport, yank me from the car, and beat the crap out of me with the butt of his gun. He didn’t, much to my surprise. We drove through beautiful Switzerland from there.
Switzerland is gorgeous. Once we got into the mountains, I was in love with it. We wound through the snow-covered mountains. I was enraptured in the moment, soaking all of it in. We drove this Volkswagen onto an open train car, kind of like a train ferry. I just sat and stared at the landscape. The train took us into places that only it could go. That meant undisturbed beauty.
We arrived at our chalet. It was nestled in the Saas Grundt region, down near the Italian border. I was ready to ski.
We got up the next day to go skiing. We walked up the mountain because Europeans walk everywhere. I started my skiing. Stefan was teaching me. I learned pretty fast. For lunch, we decided to grab a bite on the mountain.
We jump on this huge sky bucket thing. It held about 50 people, crammed in. I am in for a real adventure. I just don’t realize it. From the sky bucket, we get on an incline train. We eventually arrive at the top, somewhere around 14,000 feet. We unload from the train and grab our skies and head over to the restaurant. I thought we took our skies because we didn’t want anyone to steal them.
We eat. It was great. The view was exhilarating. I saw glacial ice, deep snow, and the Swiss Alps were surrounding me. We finished our meals. We got up and grabbed our skies. I was taken by the view. When I turned around, Stefan and his friends had their skies on. Fear struck me. Remember this was my first day skiing.
I said, “What are we doing?”
Stefan said, “We are skiing down.”
I said, “You might be. But, I’m not.”
Stefan said, “They won’t let you ride down.”
I said, “Hide and watch. I’m not skiing down.”
As I was skiing down the mountain, I was in a panic. Little loud-mouthed British kids were flying by me like I was tied to a tree. It was so steep, that I was leaned up against the mountain. I almost lost my life once. I was skiing toward the edge of the mountain that led directly to a 1,000 feet drop off into glacial ice. I busted through a flimsy, orange, plastic, fence that outlined the boundaries that I had far exceeded at this point. When I fell, I landed where I could see my impending death. I was looking off at the glacier.
I managed to get back up and ski. I peed all the way down the slope leaving yellow markers wherever I landed. I was marking my trail I guess. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life. I did survive. I got to the bottom and went back up to ski again. I did it so that I could master it. I have never regretted it.
Now, I ski about twice a year unless I tear an ACL or something. I absolutely love to ski. I look forward to it every year.
It may be a loose application and may seem simple. But, I jumped through a lot of hoops to enjoy something so much. I remember thinking that I would never do this again. How silly was that. I love skiing.
I love you, your servant, your friend,
Tim
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