Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Bob's Blah Blog:

Six year anniversary of the attack on America by Usama Bin Laden...do not forget the Americans and others murdered by him and his terrorist ilk.

Coe, Moe and I were in Paris, France when we learned of the attack. We had just toured the Eiffel Tower and ran into a group of American women (nurses) we had befriended while standing in line for the tour. They asked if we remembered them, which we thought was an odd question, but we said yes. They informed us the World Trade Center buildings had been bombed and collapsed. They said they had confirmed the information by calling family members in the Virginia area. We could hardly believe it. Corinne knew immediately OBL was behind the attack.

Sirens were blaring through out Paris as emergency vehicles responded to an unknown location as we exited the subway system near Notre Dame Cathedral. In fact, we had to exit the subway at an early stop since the train was prevented from going further. We later found a Paris policeman who could speak some english and asked what was happening. He gave us some non-descript answer, so we didn't really find out what the problem was in Paris. Back at our hotel, we watched CNN on tv and could hardly believe our eyes. It was difficult to go to sleep being in a foreign country knowing your homeland was being attacked.

In the morning, we had to catch an early train to Munich, Germany. We walked from the hotel across a plaza in the quiet darkness to the underground railway. We were extremely cautious of our surrounding and people we passed. On the train, there were only a small number of folks in our car. When we reached the train station, there were lots of travelers. We found some American's and spoke briefly with them. They recognized us as being American because we were wearing tennis shoes. Only Americans wear tennis shoes in Europe, they told us. Great, just what we needed to hear.

The girls spent our last French Francs on sammiches for lunch on the train to Munich. They were very good and we still speak about how good they were. Maybe they just tasted good because of the stress we were under, or maybe they were just that good. The ride to Munich was about 8 hours long. We enjoyed seeing the countryside, churches, farms and castles as we rode along, our thoughts never far from what had occured the day before. Arriving at Munich, we were greeted by Babs and her parents. They were so sorry to have heard about the tragic events the day before.

We found most of the older Germans we met during our few days in Munich were very supportive of the Americans. They fondly recalled the Berlin Air Lift and the generosity of the American troops at the end of WWII with the bringing of food and clothing and other necessities to them. Candle light vigils where held in the town square. We were interviewed by a newspaper reporter who overheard us speaking english during lunch near the Glockenspiel. Bab's was suspicious of him, at first, but he carried credentials for a reputable news organization and she acted as our interpreter for the interview. Mainly, he just wanted to know our feelings and how we were coping with the attack. For the most part, we felt safe in Europe, but did take precautions wherever we went. We tried not to speak while in any group of people we could not identify as being German. Munich has a large contingent of Muslim residents and others who are obviously of mid-eastern descent. For the most part, I think we felt safe, but always had safety in mind.

On to better stuff......

Odd-servation. We visited a cemetery where they had Sinners buried. There were several headstones marked Sinner. We did not know what they did or why they had been so identified as being Sinners, but I guess the people who put up the stones know better.

It is raining today. At one point, it came down quite hard for about 10 -15 minues. Sitting in the coach and closing my eyes, it sounded like riding the BART train through a long tunnel or riding the high speed train in the "Chunnel" from England to France, or from France to England if you are French . If there was motion involved while I was sitting, I would have believed I was actually on one of those trains. By the way, riding the train through the Chunnel is no big deal. They don't announce when you're about to enter it or when you are exiting it. Its just a railroad that goes under water and is non-eventfull. No champagne, either.

On Sunday, we toured the countryside, looking at cemeteries and trying to guesstimate where the land of Corinne's ancestors was located. We stopped and spoke with several homeowners along the way hoping to glean some information. They often pointed us in the direction of someone else deemed to be the local historian in the area. We came across a married couple, in their eighties, named Martha and Ev (Everett). They met during WWII when he was a Marine in the South Pacific and she was a nurse on a hospital ship in the South Pacific. They fell in love, married, had children, retired together. We enjoyed meeting them and they gave us some very good information and places where to possibly find additional information. They also said they would check with some neighbors who were in their nineties who had been in the area longer than they. Their neighbors had been school teachers in Dover and although weak in body, were strong of mind and should be able to provide details of the area.

We also stopped to talk with a possible distant cousin of Corinne who, at least, had the same last name of Paup. What is unusual, the people and family here pronounce the name as Powp
(P-ow-P, or Palp), not Pop as it is pronounced west of the Mississippi. Sorry I don't have a dictionary to use and show the phonetic pronounciation. I think it has something to do with the German pronounciation of vowels.

We also stopped at a historic landmark plaque on the side of the Thomas Pettit house. Somewhere back in time a Paup married a Pettit daughter. When Corinne went up to the house to photograph the plaque, the owner came to the door just as she was going to ring the bell. He was very friendly and extremely interested in learning about the historical significance of the house and the Pettit family. He and his wife purchased the home because they wanted a piece of history. He offered to give us a tour of the home which, of course, we jumped on. It was nicely decorated and he explained about the building materials used, what changes had been made by previous owners, what he and his wife had changed, etc. The original floorplan of the house is basically the same as originally built around 1798. He gave us a couple of shards of pottery they found in the corn field or garden, and sent us some old photos of the property he had obtained. We will recipricate with any information we develop on the Pettit's or the house.

We decided on Sunday to again extend our stay here in the park. We went to the Ranger's office to do so, and were told some other smuck wanted to use this site beginning on Thursday. There are some 300 sites in this campground, why is it when we are using one, some other smuck wants to make us move so they can use it? I am beginning to think our name has an "*" next to it which means "mess with Bob whenever possible." Am I being paranoid? No! Realistic? Yes!

Yesterday, we went to the Dover Library. Corinne saw a 1964 Ford Fairlane 500 resembling the one she learned to drive when she was 15. She is not sure if the car she learned in had two or four doors. She took a few pictures. Today, she wishes she had gone into the building and asked who it belonged to, and if she could drive it. Sheesh, like someone is going to just let her drive off in their green, 1964 Ford Fairlane 500 two-door speed-about. But then again, maybe they would.

Speaking of driving, I have seen on several ocassions, roadsigns that read: Watch Children. I have been looking for these supposed Watch Children, hoping to pickup a young Rolex, or two, as gifts for friends.

It has been humid the past couple of days, so maybe the rain we are having will cool things off. Yeah, maybe.

We haven't won a Poweball Lottery, yet.

America the beautiful.

Bobo