Adventures in Deutschland
In memory of Helga Gertrud Hayes (Oma), February 2, 1936 – July 2, 2024
Oma had no idea I had applied for the Newman Exploration Travel Fund in her honor, so when I called her up twenty-seven seconds after I was notified of the award, I will never forget the pure joy and laughter on the other end of the line. She thought it was the neatest thing… and I was a rascal for not telling her already.
So, for the next few months, I planned. This planning and research included 10 Excel tabs, rating areas to stay, tours, and food, categorized by price, interest, etc. It had a to-do list, and the very top item was “Talk to Oma.” It was just three words but it was the largest and most daunting to-do. How was I going to get all the directions, memories, things to see and do out of her head and into my itinerary? I’d grown up hearing about so much of Germany and Gotha but never with the idea I would be standing in those streets.
Poor Oma; she’d never seen Excel and here I would sit on the floor in front of her favorite chair and show her my maps, train tables, and price comparisons. I’d ask her what to see in Gotha and she’d say it’s likely changed so much and tell me about the old house and… but one day I was showing her my Airbnb and she pointed to the building up the street and said, “That was my kindergarten.” Marking it on the map, I asked her to point out any other landmarks, and lo and behold, across the street from where I was staying was the Town Hall where her father worked.
About a month before she passed, she wrote down the address of her childhood home for me, Walterhauserstrasse, #14, and underneath, “yellow streetcar goes right by.” It was the last thing she wrote to me. To have this little scrap of paper to take with me was strangely one of the most meaningful things she’d ever written me.
As conversations about visiting Dresden, where her parents were from, and going to Weimar, where she trained as a nurse, continued, my to-do list got longer and longer. One evening, we were having dinner, and she pointed to the painting over the table and told me I’d get to see the church shown here, painted by her great-grandfather in Dresden pre-1900.
So, the pieces of the trip and the meaning behind the places I was visiting started to come together in the late spring and I was so blessed to have had the time with Oma in her final months to have these chats, to hear the stories again, to share with her my plans… to see her excitement. In one of the final conversations I had with Oma, she told me how happy she was I was going and how much she thought I was going to enjoy it. At the time, I was still hoping she would be here when I got back. But that is not how it worked out and while it felt like a strange irony of a trip to take, I left for her hometown twelve days after she passed, searching for some sort of catharsis in a trip that had essentially been planned with her.
Day 1 Gotha
Oma, I arrived in Gotha finally. So crazy to see a town that looks like it hasn’t changed in decades with cobblestone streets and fountains built before you were a child. I’m just blown away by its beauty. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t a quintessential and picturesque European village. Holger picked me up from the train station and took me on a quick tour before dropping me off at my Airbnb. He showed me your old church, the one you were confirmed in and sang in as a child. We drove by the old house so I can easily find it tomorrow. My first meal was schnitzel at a place that I chose because it was busy with locals. Gotta say it wasn’t even in the same ballpark as yours. Running on twenty-seven hours with no sleep is how you beat jetlag, though!
Day 2 Gotha
For breakfast, I had three cappuccinos and the plum cake you always made us (remember how I used to pick the crumble off the top?). It seems like every bakery I walked by has this right now—plums must be in season. And I stuck my head into the courtyard of your old kindergarten… there is a playground there and I think it is still a school! I went to the castle and ducal museum after the caffeine kicked in—so crazy to think you grew up in the shadow of this fortress! And the park is so peaceful, I can almost picture you, Ziggy, Gudrun, and your parents picnicking by the lake.
So this is where I decided to leave the locket with your ashes, chosen for the purple hummingbird you would have loved on it. The tree where I buried the necklace sits on the north side of the castle, right next to the lake. It’s the largest tree in the park. I Facetimed the family so they could see the little spot we now have to come to visit you. While I never imagined I’d be bringing your ashes home when I was planning this trip, part of just seems like destiny and I’m so thankful I had this opportunity. I walked to the old house from your tree in the park. As you know, the original facade was torn down but I still went in the storefront on the bottom… they gave me a weird look when I tried to explain what I was doing in a government uniform shop. And guess what? While I was standing out front… that yellow streetcar went by, looking straight out of 1950. I walked to my Airbnb the route I imagine you would have walked to class and your father would have walked to work.
Holger picked me up to visit Gisela around 5 pm, which meant I also got to enjoy some famous German Caviar (raw mincemeat and onions) and a Thuringer bratwurst with mustard for dinner. And because I had told Holger the day before how much I loved sauerkraut, I had a bowl of it just for myself (and a jar to take home to snack on).
As you know Gisela doesn’t speak any English but between Holger, Anke, and Google Translate, we got by. So here I was sitting 4000+ miles from home and Gisela pulled out a binder with every letter and photo you sent her since you left for America. It took my breath away to see seventy years of letters, the photos you sent back of your new life; the strollers cut out of magazines when you were pregnant with mom; and then the photos of all the grandkids growing up. Photos I’ve never seen of myself halfway across the world.
Gisela had so many fun stories—like how you were neighbors and when she wanted to play, she would just yell over the garden wall, “Helga, Helga!” She showed me the photo of the parade in which you played the trumpet from the old Castle Church to the new church… how did I never know you played the trumpet?! She spoke about how you both went around and raised money for the new church… and that is when Anke said she had a key and we would visit after dinner. I think my favorite story though was as we were looking through photos of you early in your nursing career, Gisela said, you hated the Baptist uniform they made you wear in Weimar so much, that you chose to come back to Gotha! Always the fashionista. After dinner, Holger took me on another city tour, showing me this time your high school and the road the Americans marched down upon arrival in Gotha before taking me to meet Anke at the church.
It feels like you’re here with me tonight, it’s almost 10:30 and there is still light on the horizon.
Last Day in Gotha
All in a few days, I feel like I experienced years of your childhood, where you spent your school days and your Sundays; the house you were born and raised in; the train station from where you ultimately left for a better life. Before I left, I laid flowers at the base of the tree and spent a few moments saying goodbye.
Days 4 to 6 Cologne
By the time I got to Cologne, Anke had gone to visit your tree and it made me happy to know the flowers were still there. Holger and Anke said they would bring Gisela the next time she left the house. Cologne is amazing! I’ve done six museums but I’m not sure the Chocolate Museum counts for anything other than taste… But I walked off the calories when I climbed the 533 steps of the Koln Cathedral Spire.
Day 8 Berlin
I got up at dawn and was the first to ascend the Berlin Cathedral. For twenty-five minutes I stood on top of Berlin while the city slept and it was breathtaking.
After a visit to the zoo, Monika and her grandson, Matthias picked me up from the train station and brought me back to her flat for coffee and cake. Of course, I brought her an orchid too in your memory. Once again, we managed with Matthais and Google Translate, and boy, did Monika have more fun stories for me.
She said you were her best friend, that you met in 1945 and used to take the train up to the forest and swim. As a refugee from the Prussian War, she was always so thankful for your family and the nights she would stay at the house; she remembers staying up, as young girls do, talking into the night. But she also remembered all the years later. After you left, you sent her a wedding dress from the States. She told me things I never knew…like how you used to sneak out in your nursing uniform to smoke. That got a good laugh. We always knew you were a great singer, but Monika told me you had a recommendation to study at the conservatory but Vati was very against it, so you became a nurse. You used to tell me stories about how you and your friends would play ding-dong-ditch, but Monika also told me you guys used to see cacti in people’s windows and then knock and ask for cuttings… and that is how you started collecting cacti. To think that this passion was passed on to mom, to me.
And just like Gisela, Monika had every photo and letter you sent since you last saw her in 1957. To sit, once again, with one of your oldest friends and look back at your life was such an incredibly touching experience. To be able to share in the friendships forged nearly eighty years ago meant everything to me as I grappled with your absence; we shared tears, hugs, and our love for you.
Day 9 Potsdam
I was determined to visit Sansouci Palace today, an hour’s train ride from Berlin but my ulterior motive was the highly rated jewelry shops in the famous city on an island. Remember the pressed edelweiss flower you gave me as a child? Well, I’d been searching for something since I’d arrived, as well as a piece of amethyst jewelry, your birthstone, in memory of you. As luck would have it, I stumbled upon an antique jeweler who had both…the last shop I ducked into as to get out of the rain. When I asked about the mystic German flower, the shopkeeper went into the back and came back with not only a necklace inlaid with three flowers but a stemmed flower, which he gave to me in your honor.
Day 11 Dresden
Another step back in our family history. I arrived in Dresden today after a short but AC-less train ride from Berlin. But the moment I got off the train, I knew this was going to be one of my favorite stops. I imagine it looked much different when your mother and father were born and raised here but from what I’m reading, they’ve reconstructed post-war in the original architecture and it is simply beautiful here on “Florence on the Elbe.” I immediately found my way to the Dresden Frauenkirche where I found an artist painting watercolors in the square. One of the angles was the same as the one in your apartment and when I asked where he painted it from, he pointed up and said the painter’s terrace. So of course, I had to 1) buy one of his paintings) and 2) take a photo of the paintings, while painted 125+ years apart, from the same place. Amazingly, between these renderings, the church was reduced to complete rubble in the war and rebuilt in the early 2000s. You wouldn’t know by the paintings though.
Day 12 Dresden
As a newfound hobby, climbing cathedrals before anyone else in the morning has been a regular occurrence on this trip. This morning, I climbed the Frauenkriche before visiting the crypt where I lit a candle for you and sat for quite some time with a sense of peace I’d not quite experienced since you passed. Then this afternoon I went to Trinity Lutheran Church, where your mom was baptized and I believe your parents were likely married. The church barely survived the war and instead of reconstructing fully, they’ve covered the open sanctuary with a glass ceiling, and it is now a youth center. But much to my delight and surprise, when I snuck through the door, the original baptismal font, albeit heavily damaged, is now stored in the narthex. There is no way to know for certain, but I like to think this was the one your mom was baptized in.
Day14 Munich
I enjoyed three amazing days in Munich, spent climbing more churches, exploring palaces, and enjoying good beer. I can see why this is called the Heart of Bavaria. Of utmost randomness, I saw Taylor Swift playing for free at the Olympic Stadium (right place, right time). But COVID got me and now I’m eating spaghetti in my hotel room. I wish I could call you- you’d say, “Feel better Katieputz, I’m thinking of you and hoping you feel better soon.” I wish I could share this trip with you. But I just checked my phone, and the last text from you says, “Oma loves you.”