Dear Followers,
I have a fantastic adventure to tell you about...
=]
Some of you might or might not know, but I am
part Swiss, fourth generation. Here's just a little family history for you: My
great grandfather Robert D. Brackett was by all accounts a very cool person. He
and my great grandmother Tonia used to travel all over on vacation and bring
back things from his journeys. He had massive (and beautiful) collections of
rocks, geological samples, shells, and all manner of cool things from around
the world that have been passed down through the family. My other siblings and
I are slowly inheriting some of them (courtesy of my grandma Mary Jean) and I
have a small fortune of memories and articles, including my great grandpa's old hunting and fishing knife (apparently it was also either his father's or
his grandfather's, so it has been in the family for ages).
The story as I know it is that great grandpa
Brackett was in Europe as a military driver. After the war, while he was on
leave in Switzerland, he met great grandma Tonia, a Swiss girl who was working
in a resort on Lake Lucerne. I wish I could tell you guys all the things that
I've learned about them, because there are so many cute stories. I'll just tell
you that their story is currently among my favorite, and they really really
loved one another. She returned to the United States with him to Michigan and
never went back to Switzerland. They kept up decent contact with the Swiss family
over the years and my grandma has several photo albums and a couple of 40-30
year old addresses from friends and relatives that she had never met.
As you know, I am in Italy with my family, so my
grandparents made the big trip to come stay with up for a few days. On a whim,
we thought that since we were so close (and since it was the first time
that they have ever left the country) it would be a fun little adventure to take
them north to Switzerland to see the place where my great grandmother, my
grandma's mother, grew up. So, after dragging them to Siena and Rome last weekend, we got back to Milan and we rented a car and set off for Switzerland. |
| Lake Lucerne, where my Great Grandma Tonia worked |
We left early and had the most beautiful drive.
The GPS we rented (we called her Karen) guided us into and over some of the most beautiful
countryside in the Alps.
 |
| Dad at the Wheel |
 |
| my grandma was so excited the whole time... |
We passed by the beautiful (and big) lake where
Robert and Tonia met, crossed over the Italian region of the country and into
the German, and went through the third longest road tunnel in the world and the
longest in Switzerland. Tonia Keller lived about an hour away in a little
village nearby Sursee called Winikon. On the way, my grandma was showing me
photos of the town as it was in the 1940's. She had little pieces of paper
marking the location of the school, the house where she lived, and giving a few
other little data tidbits. I found that with the little German that I have
learned so far, I could read the letter that Robert Brackett had written to
Tonia's family to let them know that she had passed away (he called her his
"everything in the world").
When we got over the crest of the hill, we passed
through Triengen (the bigger city that Winikon branches off of) and at that point the
excitement started pouring over as we began already pointing out things from
the photos.
We spotted the old church immediately and drove
our way through the little town and up the hill that it was sitting on.
It is a strange, enthralling feeling to be in
such a situation - to be in a town that you have never seen before but are so
connected to. It's like coming home after a very long journey. You feel like
you should recognize it, be a part of it in some way, as if somehow you belong
to it and it you. And yet, it feels strange and foreign.
We spent an entire half hour at the church,
looking at everything. The inside is beyond beautiful (and surprisingly so,
because the out is so plain), and it is surrounded by a little garden cemetery.
Because flat space is so limited in the ("whole country!") cemetery,
plots are only available to a loved one for about twenty years, then they are
transferred to the church's collection, so although we had a photo of Tonia's
mother's (my great great grandma!) stone, it was long since gone. We did,
however, find the stone of grandma's late uncle, Ruedi Keller, who only died
very recently.
After we spent a very...overwhelming...time at
the church house marveling over the beauty of everything, over the closeness to
such a long lost relative, over everything really, we began to make our way
down the little stone path onto the road below toward the house.
It was on this way, the same little path that
Tonia walked back home when she was a little girl, that we passed a lady
standing outside of a doorway having a smoke. We almost walked by her without
saying a word, but I sucked up the courage to try talking to her and mentioned
the house and who we were. My German failed me a little bit at a certain point
because we came to a block in our conversation and tried to find other methods.
I asked if she spoke English, then she asked if I spoke French, to which I
asked if she spoke Italian, to which she nervously and apologetically replied
"Emmmm...!" However, she wanted to help and so she took the packet of
index cards with names and numbers and hurried inside, saying she was going to
do…something. It took a while for her to come back out again and we were
getting anxious and extremely restless by the time she came back out with the
cards.
She pointed up the road and explained in
Denglisch that she had been on the phone calling about and that Berty Keller,
the wife of Ruedi Keller, the aunt of Mary Jean, and my great great aunt, was up
Dorfstraße by the school and on the left, working in her front garden.
…What?
We thanked her in a rush and went up the side of
the hill as fast as we could. With little to no contact over the past several
decades, it was impossible to imagine finding someone, but here we were about
to meet for the first time a woman my grandmother had only ever written a
letter to (to inform her that Tonia had died) and whom my father probably never even knew existed. Sure enough,
there she was – just ahead and digging about amongst her flowers. We waved
to her and she waved back, coming down to meet us.
 |
| Left to Right: Isabella (our translator), Herr Keller, and my Grandma, Mary |
She only spoke a very heavy German and was
already calling her neighbor over for help translating. It was clear she was
both very excited and confused, but as soon as Grandma showed her the photos
and addresses that she had, Frau Keller recognized her niece immediately and
was a flow of speech. In the next breath, I’m convinced she explained in depth
the history she knew about Mary Jean, said three Hail Marys, and recited the
Magna Carta, but closer investigation and some help from her neighbor confirmed
that we were invited to have coffee inside and she had a whole house of things
to show us.
We must have spent the next hour or so with her,
raving over old photo albums and telling stories about the family members,
communicating through the combined efforts of Frau Berty’s neighbor Isabella and
me. It was way beyond cool. I was in the house of my great great aunt whom I
had never met, along with my dad (her great nephew), and my grandma (her
niece). It was a one-of-a-kind family reunion. She had pictures of so many
people I’m related to (in one way or another) and stories and…
It was just so so cool.
 |
| Isabella, Grandma, Grandpa, and Dad at the table |
 |
| See? We managed to communicate pretty well! |
 |
| Isn't she just beautiful?? ^^ |
 |
| Pictures of Great Grandma Tonia and Great Grandpa Robert; The one on the right is Tonia leaving for America |
 |
| Herr Berty is an artist; she painted this herself and my grandma has a few of her pieces as well; even I recognized the style immediately |
Isabella did a fantastic job translating into
English. She hadn’t spoken it since the fourth grade and was only fresh because
she was helping her kids (now that age) to learn. Wherever she struggled, we
helped her through, but she was simply brilliant and so good to take the
trouble to come help.
And Great Great Aunt Berty (I get to call her
that! ^^) is just the most wonderful, warm, and sweet old lady. She showed us her
paintings (grandma has a few of her pieces), jewelry and sea shells that were
sent to her, and a number of other things. She wouldn’t let Dad leave without
accepting a box of Swiss chocolates and she and grandma talked about flowers
and gardens, because they both love them so much. With their addresses and Isabella’s email, we hope to keep up correspondence and send them pictures of
grandma’s flower gardens as well. I will be sending all of the photos we took
as soon as possible and I'll send a link to this blog post.
When we finally left, she kissed us all good bye
and invited us to stay with her any time we want.
 |
| all four generations together |
 |
| this is when she explained to us that in Switzerland, the salutation is done with three kisses instead of two |
 |
| And we had to absolutely salute Isabella, who did a wonderful job |
 |
| Great Great Aunt Berty made the visit unforgettable for everyone, I think |
 |
| Tonia's old house |
We took the scenic route back home through the pass in the Alps. It had been a day more than amazing, and all that was left to do was take our time going back to Italy.
I’m Jonathon, and this is my life.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment