“They won’t take it,” Adelia said. “They’re adamant about it. We’re their guests.”
“There are ways,” Mitch said. “Jacob and I have already talked about it.”
“How? How can we help them?”
“Two ways for sure, and we’re working on others. First, Hans had to buy our tickets to the play last September. He paid in marks. They were seven hundred and fifty marks per ticket. But last summer the exchange rate was only about seventy-six marks per dollar, or about ten dollars per ticket. When Jacob and I tried to send money to Hans to repay him, he very shrewdly asked us to wait until we got here this year.”
“You haven’t paid him yet?” Edie cried in dismay.
“No, and now look what’s happened. Last year the twenty dollars for our two tickets would have given him about a hundred and fifty marks. But when I give him that twenty dollars tomorrow, he will receive nearly a thousand marks. So he has kept even with the inflation.”
“So. . . .” Edie’s mind was racing. “So we could buy all the food for us and their family while we’re there with dollars and pay less than we expected but save them a whole lot of money.”
“Exactly.”
“And what’s the second thing?” Edie asked.
“Jacob and I want to talk with the adults in Hans’s family about this. We want to ask them one question: What can we do to help?”
“Good. I want you to do that.”
“And by ‘we’ I don’t mean just our two families. Do you two remember Brother LeRoy Mangelson?”
Edie’s head came around with a jerk. “Of the First Presidency’s Office?”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
Mitch smiled. He had been waiting to spring this little surprise on her for some time now. “Jacob has set it up with Brother Mangleson that when we get back home, we will meet with him and report on what we have learned about the problems the German Saints are facing. Then he will take our report to the First Presidency and see if they can do anything to help.”
From Adelia’s expression, it was clear that Jacob had shared that information with her. She was nodding her head in satisfaction. But this was news to Edie. She studied her husband for a long moment and finally said, “I want to go with you when you go.”
He gave her a slow grin. “Actually, Brother Mangelson has asked that all four of us meet with him when we return.”
Chapter Notes
The inflation figures given here come from a chart found in Anderson’s Mormons and Germany: 1914–1933, 100. The quotation about the life of the German people comes from that same source (101).
July 12, 1922, 11:52 a.m.—Train station, Oberammergau, Bavaria
As the train began to slow, it let out three sharp whistles. Almost at the same exact moment, the conductor entered the car. “Oberammergau!” he shouted. “Seven minutes to Oberammergau. Ten-minute stop only. If this is your final destination, please be sure to take all belongings with you.”
Mitch had been watching the scenery out the window while Edie and Adelia quietly talked and the twins were drawing in their notebooks. He looked over at the twins. “All right, you two. We’re almost there. Get your jackets on, and make sure that you put back anything you took out of your knapsacks.”
Edie and Adelia were now peering out the window, as was virtually every other person in the nearly full car. “I can’t believe this is real,” Edie said. “It was in the fall of 1919 when we first started talking about coming here for the Passion Play. And now we’re finally here.”
“I know this sounds silly,” Adelia spoke up. “But as excited as I am about the Passion Play, I’m even more excited to see Jacob, even though it’s only been a week since he left us.”
“That doesn’t sound silly at all to me,” Edie said.
Mitch had returned to looking out the window too as the train began to slow. “Oh, look,” he exclaimed. “There is a building with murals painted on it. You’ll see them everywhere in town.”
The twins stood up and came over by their mother. Across the road that paralleled the tracks was a small hotel with white stucco walls and dark wooden trim in the style of a Swiss chalet. The main floor had several small shops, with their large windows facing the street. The two upper floors were obviously hotel rooms. Right in the center of the building was the hotel entrance, which was arched. Directly above it on the fourth story was a wooden balcony tucked up under the eaves of the roof.
But what he had wanted them to see was between the second and third floors. Across the full width of the main building was a mural consisting of more than a dozen nearly life-sized paintings of people engaged in various village activities. On one end was a wood-carver working on a bear standing on its hind legs that was almost as tall as he was. Next to him was a man at a potter’s wheel. A young boy was out on a hilltop with his dog and some goats. A woman wearing a scarf was seated on a stool in front of a fire, turning a roast goose on a spit. Four children dressed in Dirndl and Lederhosen were in a circle, holding hands and dancing gaily. To the far left, three well-dressed women were out for a stroll in their finery and carrying parasols while a man behind them followed along playing his accordion.
“Oh, my,” Adelia exclaimed. “How charming.”
“They are hand painted,” Mitch noted. “And it wouldn’t surprise me if the artists lived right here in the village.”
“Oh, look,” Edie said, pointing. “Up there in the corner. It says 1775. That surely can’t be the year the building was built, can it?”
“I’m sure it is.” Mitch chuckled. “That would make it over a hundred and forty years old.”
“Look, Daddy,” Abby cried, pointing forward. “That house has Jesus on the cross.”
“That’s right, Abby. A lot of the murals have religious themes.”
Just then, the tracks turned, and they left the street behind and entered a small railway yard. “There’s the station,” Edie said, looking forward.
The train was moving very slowly now as it entered an area where the main track split into four or five short spurs that ended under a covered roof, with passenger platforms on both sides. As the train chugged to a stop, just outside their windows they could see stacks of luggage, numerous hand trucks, porters going by, and swarms of people milling around waiting for the new arrivals.
The five of them were standing now, as were all the others in the car. But Mitch was gaping at something on the next platform over. “What the heck?” he cried.
Edie turned back around. “What?”
“See all those men milling around on the next platform over?”
“Of course I see them. So what?”
“Those are missionaries!”
She jerked back. “Our missionaries?”
“Yes. Look at them. Dark suits, conservative ties, short haircuts. They’re missionaries, all right. Dozens of them.” He leaned closer to the window. “No, more than a hundred! They’re all up and down the platform.”
“Maybe it’s just a bunch of businessmen who’ve come down to see the play.”
Mitch straightened, still peering out. “I’m telling you, Edie. They’re missionaries.”
“Then talk to them if you’re so sure,” she said with a touch of impatience. “But right now we have to get off the train. We do have a few people waiting for us out there.”
Mitch gave the missionaries one last glance and then stepped into the aisle behind her. “It looks like they’re waiting for a train. Surely they’re not here for the Passion Play.”
“Yes, dear. Whatever you say.” Then Edie looked forward. “Benji, you wait for Mom and Dad. Don’t go running off.”
12:03 p.m.
There were twenty members of the Eckhardt family waiting for them at the end of the platform. And all, including the men, were dressed in their traditional Bavaria fin
ery, the girls in brightly colored Dirndl and the men in their Lederhosen. They erupted into shouts, applause, and cries of welcome when they saw them. But the thing that caught the Americans’ eye was a large homemade banner that four teenagers were holding up high. In hand-painted letters it read:
WILLKOMMEN IN OBERAMMERGAU
DER SCHÖNSTE ORT DER WELT
“What does that say, Dad?” Benji asked, tugging on his coat.
Mitch smiled. His son’s verbal fluency was good, but they hadn’t worked much on his reading and writing yet. “It says, ‘Welcome to Oberammergau, the most beautiful place in the world.’” But even as Mitch spoke, seeing that their guests were coming, the teens turned the sign over and held it up again. This time it was all in English.
WELCOME!!
JACOB AND ADELIA REISSNER
MITCHELL AND EDNA RAE WESTLAND
ABIGAIL AND BENJAMIN WESTLAND
And beneath that, there was a large red heart with an arrow through it.
Adelia gave a little squeal as she saw Jacob step away from the group and start swiftly toward her. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him soundly while the family applauded.
Then Hans followed. He walked past the Reissners and directly up to Mitch, extending his hand. “Willkommen, Mitch,” he cried. “How good to see you again.” Then as they clasped hands, Hans pulled him forward and gave him a huge bear hug.
After a moment, he stepped back and turned to Edie. “And this must be Frau Westland,” he said, again extending his hand.
Mitch nodded and started formal introductions. “Edie, meet Hans Otto Eckhardt. Hans, this is my wife, Edie, and if you call her Frau Westland again, you’ll probably get whacked.”
Hans laughed. “And what is ‘whacked’?”
But Edie didn’t wait for Mitch to answer. She took Hans’s hand and in German said, “It is with great pleasure that I finally meet you, Hans. My husband has spoken often about you.”
Hans bowed low, clicked his heels once, and kissed the back of her hand. “Willkommen, Edie. Your German is very excellent, though I think I hear a touch of a Swiss accent there. Your Oma was from Switzerland, no?”
“Yes, she was born in Bern, though she and my grandfather later moved to Mannheim.”
“Willkommen,” he said again, and then he turned to the twins. “And what have we here?” he asked solemnly. Abby blushed and lowered her eyes, but Benji stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Mein Name ist Benjamin Westland. Ich bin sehr erfreut, Sie kennen zu lernen, Herr Eckhardt.”
Trying very hard not to smile, Hans took Benji’s hand, bowed, clicked his heels again, and solemnly said, “And I am very pleased to meet you too, Herr Westland. Willkommen in Deutschland.”
Benji swung around. “And this is my sister, Abby,” he blurted in English. “She’s kinda shy.”
While Abby’s face turned beet red and she shot her brother a withering look, Hans again bowed and formally introduced himself. Then Jacob brought Adelia over and introduced her to Hans. When they finished, Hans looked to where his family was waiting, all smiling broadly. “Come, come,” he called, motioning to them with one hand. “Come and meet my family.”
The introductions took about twenty minutes, with the two American families forming a short greeting line and the German families filing past. Hans stepped back to be with Emilee and their two girls, letting Mitch and Jacob do the translating back and forth as necessary.
All were impressed, including Jacob, when both Edie and Adelia were able to speak the names of each family’s children before they had a chance to introduce them. Their time on the train reviewing the photos had paid off.
When all was through, Inga stepped over to her son and whispered in his ear. “Ja, ja,” he said. “Das ist gut.” Hans took her by the elbow and turned to their guests. “My mother has something that she would like to say. And she has rehearsed it in English for you.”
“Excellent,” Mitch said, smiling at Inga warmly. “We would be delighted, Schwester Eckhardt.”
Now it was Inga who was suddenly shy. But she took a deep breath and began. “Velcome to Bavaria. Mein family—uh—my family is very happy you are to be here.”
“And we are very happy too,” Edie said.
“It is vith great . . . uh, vith great . . .” She finally looked to Hans.
“With great honor,” he said softly.
“Ja, ja. It is vith great honor vee velcome you to our home. Vee hope you vill be much happy here.”
She went forward and kissed Edie, Adelia, and the twins on the cheek, and then she motioned toward her family. The three oldest girls came forward with something behind their backs. Edie quickly identified them in her mind. Annaliese, Kristen, and Gretl. The girls brought their hands around to the front. Each carried a garland of wildflowers woven around thin strips of willow branches. With great solemnity, they placed them on the heads of Adelia, then Edie, then Abby.
Hans came forward. “The girls wish you a very warm welcome to Bavaria with the traditional crown of wildflowers, which they picked and wove into garlands this morning.”
Deeply touched and near tears, Edie wanted to take all three of them and hug them tightly. They were the perfect image of what she had expected. But they quickly returned to their places.
“We have one more presentation,” Hans said, “and then we shall be off.” He turned and motioned. “Miki.”
Miki was still small for her age but was already remarkably beautiful. Her sparkling dark eyes and black hair set off the light blue of her Dirndl to perfection. There was a shy smile as she came forward holding two red envelopes in her hand. She stopped first in front of Abby, handing her one envelope, and then did the same with Benji. Then, blushing, she turned and ran back to her mother.
Hans laughed. “She was supposed to wait for you to open them, but go ahead.”
They did so. In each one was a single sheet of paper with two lines of a child’s writing on it. Benji read it and looked up. “Palast Linderhof? Was ist das?”
“The Linderhof Palace,” Hans explained. “It is one of Mad King Ludwig’s homes. It is no more than three or four miles from our farm in Graswang.” He looked at Edie and Mitch. “The children decided that while you are at the play on Friday, they would like to take Benji and Abby to see something important too.”
“Is it a beautiful palace?” Abby asked, staring at the paper.
“Very beautiful, I assure you,” Hans said, “Would you like that, Abby?”
“Ja,” she said with a big smile.
Benji turned to his parents. “Yay! Our own outing!”
“Is that all right with Mutti and Vati?” Hans asked.
“That would be wonderful,” Edie said.
Inga and Emilee came over to confer with Hans. As they did so, Alisa, who was standing with her other cousins, darted forward and ran up to Benji. Emilee swung around in surprise. “Lisa? What are you doing?”
She stopped directly in front of Benji, looking up at him with her wide blue eyes. Benji smiled at her and murmured a greeting in German. She didn’t respond, just looked at him, studying his face.
“Lisa,” Hans said, starting toward her, “what is it?”
Suddenly, Alisa went up on tiptoes, closed her eyes, and kissed Benji softly on his left cheek. Then she giggled and turned and ran back to the rest of the family.
Hans and Emilee looked at each other in astonishment. “Did you tell her to do that?” he asked.
“No!” Emilee looked at Edie. “Actually, that’s a shock for us. She’s usually so shy around strangers.”
Benji was rubbing his cheek in wonder, staring at Lisa, who was now hiding behind Miki. “Why’d she do that, Mom?” he asked.
Edie smiled. “I think that was her way of greeting you.”
Emilee finished conferring with her mother-in-law, who
was nodding, and then came over to Hans. She whispered a few words in German. He reared back. “Are you sure? They’re probably tired.”
“If they are, they can tell us,” she responded. And without waiting for his approval, Emilee came over to the adults. “I know you are probably tired from the train ride,” she said in German, “but . . . well, I am not from around here. I am from the far north of Germany, which is very flat and somewhat bleak. So the first time Hans brought me here, I was so enchanted with the village, I asked Hans to let me walk through it.”
Jacob translated quickly for Adelia, but she had understood most of it. “Oh, yes,” she cried. “I would love to do that.”
Edie was vigorously nodding too. “And me as well.”
“How far is it to your farm?” Mitch asked.
“About five miles by the road,” Hans replied, “but if you take some back trails and cut through some meadows, it’s more like three miles.”
“It is a delightful walk,” Emilee said, not wanting to sound pushy. “If you would like to do it, we could send the children home in the automobiles with the men, and we ladies could look around the village and then walk all the way home.”
“Can I do it too?” Abby asked her mother.
“Of course,” Edie said.
“Me too?” Benji cried.
Mitch stepped in. “Sorry, Benji. Ladies only.” Then, to Edie, “Are you sure?”
She looked around and then threw out her arms. “Are you kidding? Don’t you remember? This is the most beautiful place in the world. Of course I want to do it.”
Adelia turned to Jacob and kissed him quickly. “Good to see you again, dear,” she laughed. “I’ll be home in an hour or so.”
July 12, 1922, 9:48 p.m.—Eckhardt dairy farm
Edie watched as Mitch came out of the bathroom, dressed in his pajamas and drying his hair with a towel. “Feel better?”
“Much.” He went over to his suitcase, rummaged through it, and found his hairbrush. As he began to brush his hair back, he peered at the book she was holding more closely. “What are you reading?”