Over the years, whenever Chuck and I would start talking about our next trip to Europe, the idea of visiting Grafenwöhr would resurface. Going back to Graf, where I lived from 1986 to 1990, was only interesting to me if I could go on the Army base. For a long time I didn’t think it was going to be possible, so going back to Germany never topped our itineraries. We chose other places.
Then, a few years ago, I reconnected with one of my former elementary school teachers – Bill Hunter – who still taught at the school on base. He let me know he’d be able to sponsor our visit and arrange a tour whenever we wanted. That brought Germany back into the conversation. It also meant we’d need to figure it out sooner than later because eventually Bill Hunter would retire.
As the planning began for our May trip, I went back and forth on whether or not we should even go to Grafenwöhr. Did the kids really care? Did Chuck? Was it selfish to make everyone travel farther east just so I could relish in the nostalgia? I offered to dump the idea, particularly since the kids were more interested in going to Paris, and Grafenwöhr is a solid eight-hour drive from Paris.
It felt like a lot to ask, but at the same time, it felt like so little to ask when my childhood was spread out across two countries and four states, and there would likely never be another opportunity to show my boys where I used to live in what used to be West Germany.
So we did it. We muscled through the jet lag and the cramped driving and just did it. We landed in Frankfurt around 8:30 a.m. on Wednesday, May 25, waded through border patrol and the car rental line like zombies, and started on a three-hour drive east. The kids were dog-tired, and I was a bundle of nerves. I had not seen Grafenwöhr or the surrounding area since the summer I turned 12 years old. As soon as I saw the exit sign, it all flooded back.
We checked into our hotel in Eschenbach and took a little time to refresh. The others took catnaps, but I couldn’t rest. The little details of the hotel – like the rolladen shutters – had me eager to see more.
We agreed to meet Bill at 4:30 p.m., so we left the hotel in enough time to visit the house where we used to live. I knew it looked vastly different than it did in the late-80s. The only photo I have of the front of the house is from my 11th birthday party in August 1989:
All the trees and rhubarb are gone, as is the stained-glass window in the foyer. Even with all the changes, I got weepy seeing the old house again. I wanted so badly to call my dad.
My stomach turned somersaults the closer we got to base. It was all I could do to resist being utterly obnoxious recounting every step or bike ride I’d taken in the little town.
I can’t tell you how often I’d feed the ducks at this little pond. It was on the way from our house to post, so it was nothing to pack a handful of crackers or bread and make a stop along my bike ride.
The Army base has changed dramatically over the last 30 years. It has a mall that incorporates the PX and Commissary. It has a hotel and a handful of barracks for all the single soldiers who come to train. It has new signage, roads, and fencing.
And yet, the old buildings are still there, and it took no time for my brain to time-travel back to the 80s. For the second time, I wanted to call my dad and tell him what I was looking at. Countless times I’d walked past the water tower and General’s house on my way to and from school. Or to visit my mom when she worked at the Red Cross building across the street. Or to go to Bobbie Jo’s house or Aubrey’s house or go to the Officer’s Club with my parents.
As many times as I walked by the water tower, I never went to the top of it. That changed with this visit.
Graf friends: The field in the middle of the photo is the playground behind the elementary school.
This photo faces where the old PX and Commissary used to be. You can also see the old Chapel towards the center of the photo.
Below is the movie theater, which still shows one film at a time. Behind the theater is the new mall, which has a selection of American fast food options plus the PX, Commissary, and other vendors.
In this photo, you can see the hotel (which is still fairly new, I suppose), and to the left of the hotel is the Burger King, which was a VERY BIG DEAL to us kids in the 80s.
After our tower tour, we visited the elementary school, which looks mostly the same (minus the large fencing that went up after 9/11). Bill took us into the school, and I did my best to contain ALL the excitement. We even visited the quad where fifth and sixth graders changed classes. I’m sure my family thought I was the biggest nerd of all time, but it made me incredibly happy to see those classrooms again.
We also stopped so I could snap a quick photo of the Gasthaus where we lived when we first moved to Graf in October 1986. We lived on the bottom floor for what felt like several months. (I remember celebrating Christmas there.) Of course, my sister got the cool bedroom with the balcony in the back. She always got the better bedrooms!
When our tour was over, we grabbed dinner with Bill and his wife, Renee, at the mall on post. It was so good to reminisce and ask questions about how things had changed over the years. However, it wasn’t long before the jet lag resurfaced and we needed to head back to Eschenbach and go to bed. This detour took us a little out of the way, but it was entirely worth it to me. THANK YOU, Mr. Hunter, for arranging our visit and helping me reconnect with a place I loved so dearly.
