A Veteran Story

Eleven. Eleven. A day we honor those who have served our country in times of war and peace,  those men and women who gave themselves over to something bigger than themselves.  My Dad is one of those people who joined the US army.  But Dad wasn't born in the US, he was born in East Germany.  Some of his earliest memories involve fleeing to the woods around their town to escape bombs dropped from American planes.  Yet he found his way to Uncle Sam's doorstep.  And ran into some future veterans along the way.

I think about this story on Veterans Day, about the first Americans Dad ever met - US servicemen.  (This excerpt is from his memoirs, multi-year project he and I have labored through together.)

"Eventually, all bombardments and artillery stopped, and the rain of bombs and fire was

replaced by hundreds of thousands of leaflets floating and fluttering peacefully from

allied planes. The leaflets advised residents to surrender and lay down all weapons and

receive the American occupation forces. Our neighborhood was covered with paper

and we scurried around to collect the excess as cheap firewood. All civilians were

also instructed to prominently hang out white sheets of surrender from their houses

and apartments. Each house in our neighborhood quickly sprouted a white bed sheets

tacked to one of the windows. For the sake of our lives, we did what we were told:

display a white flag of surrender or be prepared to die. Not all in our neighborhood were

supportive of the new occupation. There were more than a few die-hard Nazi supporters

in our neighborhood who hung their white flags under duress, with tears in their eyes.

However, the majority of us were more than glad to surrender with the symbolic white

flag if it meant that the bombing would stop and the war would be over. We just wanted

to start living life again, as normally as we could amid piles of destruction. Our dreams

were understandable, but how does a family, a community start living again when a

sizable part of the city lay in ruins, with no food, no jobs, no infra-structure,

no water, no electricity, no stores, no public transportation, and

few glimmers of hope?

A day or two after white flags bloomed from neighborhood windows, the first convoy

of trucks loaded with American infantry slowly moved into our neighborhood.

They stopped only fifty yards from our house at the end of the street where Bernie and I

happened be outside playing. We eyed them carefully and found that they looked very

friendly - not at all like the cruel enemy they were accused of being. There must have

been at least twenty of them on the first truck. With smiles on their faces, they waved

for us to come over. We cautiously approached the green-clad soldiers as they started to

unload the trucks. We were in fearful awe, as if toy soldiers and trucks from a strange

land had materialized in front of us. One of the soldiers jumped off the back of the

truck and grabbed my shoulder in a friendly way, as if I had helped him off the truck.

He smiled and said something to Bernie and I in English, which of course we did not

understand. But the language barrier quickly evaporated as he handed my brother

and I a chocolate bar and a stick of Wrigley’s chewing gum. We were delighted by this exchange in the international language of candy! We quickly devoured the treats,

savoring every sweet calorie in our sustenance-deprived tummies. The soldiers laughed

and smiled a lot, which, combined with their “peace offering” was just what we needed

to allay our fears that the Americans were a ruthless enemy. That short meeting at the

end of our street was a tentative but positive beginning to the American occupation of our

city."

Dad's school picture in E Germany

Dad, United States Army

Buckley O'Weaver

As we lead up to St. Patrick's day, I felt it appropriate to do a tribute post to the Irishman in the house....our dog.

Here reads the description of the Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier from the AKC website (emphasis added): 

A truly Irish breed, the "Wheaten" has a special connection to St. Patrick's Day, having first appeared in the show ring at the Irish Kennel Club Championship on March 17, 1937. The name of this breed describes the characteristics of the coat–soft, silky, with a gentle wave, and of warm wheaten color. 

Underneath is a formidable dog that enjoys plenty of exercise every day. Most Wheatens are natural greeters towards people, and extremely alert in their surroundings. They are quick learners and love to travel with their owners. The Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier was first recognized by the AKC in 1973. 

Known for more than 200 years in Ireland, the "Wheaten" shares common ancestry with the Kerry Blue and the Irish Terrier, but was not owned by the landed gentry. They were the poor man's dog, an all-purpose farm dog, given to patrolling the borders of small farms, ridding them of vermin, herding sheep and hunting with his master.

Wheatens tend to be less scrappy than other terriers but they are true terriers and will be more active than many other breeds, enjoying plenty of exercise every day. They relate well to children and can adapt to city, country, and suburban life. The Wheaten is single coated and sheds minimally, but needs regular grooming to keep its coat mat free.

Clearly we picked the right breed for our family since we are not, in fact, landed gentry (despite the fact that we currently own 2 properties. Ugh. More on that another time).   Buckley has been a fantastic dog for us, first as a newlyweds, then as parents of a baby, now toddler.  He is exceptional with our little girl, and she loves him.  In fact, every morning, when her fussing gets loud enough to rouse me from slumber, I go into her room, pull her out of her crib and the first thing she says is not "mama!" or "baba (bottle)", it's "woof woof." 

Descriptions are correct that this breed needs lots of activity.  Even from his youngest days he has been a great walking, jogging and hiking companion with seeming boundless energy.  The downside to that energy is that he has always been a leash puller, despite our best (well, sort of ) efforts at training.  And his energy is only limited by the temperature and length of his coat.  See, Wheatens, or at least our Wheaten, get uncomfortably hot pretty easily.  One sunny Saturday, we took young Buckley  to a hike up Blood Mountain.  Once we'd reached the top, poor pup was hot and thirsty, seeking water at any cost.  He found a small, stagnant mud puddle and proceeded to roll himself completely around in the gray soupy muck, much to the chagrin of passers-by.  We were frozen, wanting to pull his squirmy body out of the nastiness, yet entranced by the spectacle.  Gosh he was dirty after that. That's our Buckley, sad eyes, playful heart.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to our little Irishman.  Maybe we'll give him a sip of beer tomorrow....just to watch him sneeze.  Works every time.

Will you be celebrating your Irish Heritage on the 17th...or just wearing green so you don't get hassled by co-workers and store clerks?

Dear Friends, Here is a brief update on the Weavers... 2007 was a fine year for us. We celebrated our 3rd year of marriage in March. We both, graciously, attended one anothers' 10-year reunions. Mine celebrated 10 years since high school at Greater Atlanta Christian. Then a few weeks later we were on campus at Messiah College in Pennsylvania, re-uniting with Jeff's old college buddies. We also made several trips to see family in Lancaster, PA; Ann Arbor, MI; Point Clark, Ontario; and Sarasota, FL. Jeff is still employed by Emory University School of Medicine as the Director of IT for the Department of Medicine. Katie quit her job at National Allergy Supply earlier this year, but continues to do contract writing for the company, in addition to several other free-lance writing assignments. She also developed and maintains the website for her sister's newest business venture, Evan Taylor Designs. Jeff and Katie still love music, staying involved with their church's music ministry, as well as some other projects. Katie has had several concerts in Atlanta over the past year, and the Weavers maintain ties, albeit loose ones, to their band The Ming Dynasty. They hope to actually play somewhere, as a full band, in early 2008. Maybe they'll even write some new songs. Perhaps the most exciting thing for us this year was the acquisition of an adorable Wheaten Terrier puppy in late February. Buckley is almost a year old and has given us tremendous amounts of laughs, cuddles, leaves, dirt, and chewed things. We love (almost) every bit of it! We are thankful for you, and pray you have a wonderful Christmas season and a memorable 2008. Love from the Weavers

On Curious Food Traditions

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!
One of the things that made our time in France last fall so wonderful was the wealth of new food experiences we had (like Jeff's chestnut creme Belgian waffle at right). Well, back here stateside, I’m stuck again with Chick-fil-a, China Inn and Tex-mex. While I’m quite fond of any of the above, they tend to blend into the humdrum of life.

Then arrive the holidays. That particular time of year when we gather with family, whether willingly or unwillingly, and somehow the nostalgia of it all seems to brush the rough edges a little smoother. And there is none so central to these holiday gatherings as food, and at no other time of year do more traditions make their way to the communal table. For example, my employer went all out for a traditional Thanksgiving meal (okay, well, it was a potluck. They bought us Turkey, I brought store-bought pecan pie). However, for Christmas, we had catered barbeque lunch. Call it bucking tradition, but who knows that for some of you, the smell of pulled pork and vinegar sauce means nothing less than Merry Christmas.

My family’s holiday table has never been too steeped in oddity, but we like tradition. Turkey for Thanksgiving, never anything made of sweet potatoes (to Jeff’s horror), and Sister Schubert’s yeast rolls. Christmas dinner tends to center around a pork roast or some sort of beef with a fancy name. I believe this year was “standing crown roast”. Methinks we should have all been seated in some royal hall, wearing pelts and fancy headgear lifting our goblets. Sadly, it was just my sister's kitchen table, though we did raise our goblets, er, glasses to Christ, since He is after all the reason we do celebratory things this time of year like indulging in crown roast and Sister Schubert’s yeast rolls (yes, we have them on Christmas too).

While I appreciate my family's traditions, one thing I love about being married to Jeff is the decidedly Amish-country bent that his family’s traditional meals have. Foods of which I could ne'er have dreamt have been gracing their holiday table for years. And now, I can freely say, I’d been missing out before I had them. Have you experienced home-made hamloaf? Think meatloaf, but with a sweet glaze and several lovely Mennonite women with head coverings joining you. Corn pudding is another Lancaster favorite. It joins the ranks with Himalayas Indian food as something Jeff and I will eat until we’re sick.

Then there are the food oddities that have nothing to do with Pennsylvania Dutch culture or the northeast, but are just Weaver. Jeff’s mum’s homemade pizza is always served with applesauce and peanut butter, unabashedly, as if these were natural pairings. Chicken Corn Soup is another favorite of mine, and in his family’s home, it’s always served with blueberry muffins. Logical, perhaps not. The warmth of tradition that makes all right in the world for an hour, absolutely.

We all have them, odd holiday meals that serve as benchmarks for us, funny dinner-table traditions that no one else could understand.

What are some of your family’s traditions or regional foods that may seem odd to us, but make you smile?