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Would Gerdi have been happier had we lived in Germany, her home, rather than in the U.S.? Would she have been able to beat the cancer that claimed her at the prime of life?
Norbert Isaak is one of the gentlemen I met at the May 28th get-together of veterans at McDonald’s.
Thomas J. O’Connor Jr. and I met for coffee and conversation June 16, 2017 at the McDonald’s on Breitegaße in the old city center of Nürnberg.
I had met Dwight Johnson at the McDonald’s gathering of vets on Memorial Day weekend and again when he, Carl Caruso, and Tyrone Wiley came to a beer garden in downtown Nürnberg.
Neil (“Jerry”) Morrison picked me up from a subway station in Fürth and drove me to his “office,” a baseball field where he spends much of his time when not working or at home.
Tyrone Wylie is one of the regulars at the Sunday morning McDonald’s meet-up of former G.I.s. His outgoing personality and candid opinions keep the group lively.
Don picked me up from the U-Bahn station closest to the Norris’ lovely home in Oberasbach.
“Take the U2 U-Bahn (subway) and transfer to the No. 62 bus, advised Fernando (“Fred”) Rivera. Get off at the 17th stop, by a cemetery.
Steve Milke and I met at the June 28th meeting of veterans and arranged to meet at the McDonald’s in downtown Nürnberg a few days later.
Herbert Hall was one of four men who started the Sunday morning McDonald’s group of veterans back in 1993.
It really shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, that as much as we had hoped for it, the election of our first Black president did not bring us into a post-racial America.
Carl Caruso, 60, was at our appointed meeting place, the plaza in front of the “Way of Human Rights” next to the German National Museum.
When the former G.I.s reconvened at McDonald’s after laying wreaths on the graves of their fallen comrades Memorial Day weekend, they seated themselves at outside tables on that sunny morning.
“I’m running late, Nick,” I said, “I did catch the number 38 bus, but in the wrong direction. Now I’m on the right bus and should be at McDonald’s in a few minutes.”
After meeting Herb Hall and his Sunday morning McDonald’s group, I was assured of a steady supply of interviewees to fill my calendar over the next weeks.
David and Ute Starr had responded to a newspaper article about my book project.
My wife, Barbara, and I met Claudia Radczun-Polk on our first overseas trip together in 1998.
A great shadow hangs over my life. It shrouds the years of my first marriage in sorrow and shame.
