Usually my first stop upon leaving the house is to pick up my mail. I pick it up from silver sentries standing at attention beside the main road I must use to start any adventure. I peeked in and at first thought the box to be empty, but stooping a bit lower brought into view what looked like junk mail. Amids the flyer's is an envelop which at first glance look as if it came from my bank in England. However, the envelop, as it came free of the junk mail, had a neat, tight, hand written address on it. The last part of the envelop to be freed from the junk mail showed that this letter came from Austria.
"OH MY GOD!" My new family was writing to me! I looked on the back and was stunned, my mind began to create all these pictures!
Flashback:
Summer of 1963
I own a Forest Green 1951 Chevy convertible with a white top. The top is not longer the original canvas, but a brand new vinyl from Rayco. I have had it for three years and treat it with TLC. It gets washed every weekend then polished with Blue Coral wax and sealer, the top is about a year old. The upholstery is real leather died green to match the car. I have put new green carpet in to replace the black rubber. Twin mirrors mounted way up front, twin power aerials adorn the back fenders. The wheels are narrow white walls with silver spinner hub caps locked on.
The sun causes the paint sparkles each time it emerges from the shade as it cruses down N-9 in Upstate NY on its way to Canada. The top is down the tank is full and I am driving my grandmother and my aunt to Montreal. We are going there to visit my grandmother's sister who has just had a baby. My grandmother's sister and her husband have been in Canada about four years now having migrated there from Austria. Her name is Rosie and my uncle's name is Joe. They hope to come to America as some point, but it is now difficult to immigrate do to the new immigration laws.
My aunt Elsie is in front with me, my grandmother in the back both had donned kerchiefs to keep their hair in from blowing about. It is a warm summer day with pale blue Sky's filled with puffs of white clouds. We are driving through green pastures, broken by forest covered mountains or tiny towns. N-9 was the north - south route through NY before the NY Thruway was built. Many summer were spent traveling this road as we headed to Lake George for vacations. It is a two lane road with passing strip that are taken advantage of as much as possible.
My car is quite heavy for it's 90 horsepower straight six engine. So timing is everything as I drop back from the car I'm going to pass, see a passing strip coming up zoom forward gathering momentum to zip passed, then on down the road arm on the door, radio singing away. My Aunt Elsie is the best even if there is a 10 year age difference between us, but you'd never know it. She calls me her older brother even though I'm younger. We have spend a lot of time together over the years doing allot of talking. She is married and currently has three sons who are home with their dad, my uncle Red.
The baby is about three weeks old at this point and we are all anxious to see her. In the trunk, along with our suitcases, are gifts for her and her parents. Uncle Joe does not make much as an upholsterer and they share a two bedroom apartment with another couple. We wonder were we will all sleep upon arrival. I know we will drink Schnapps, laugh, talk, and eat allot. My grandmother will buy all the food and anything else they need. She is not rich, but is willing to give her sister what she can not afford. I think she does this out of guilt as she refuses to sponsor them for entrance into the U.S.
As a sponsor you are staring that if they can't find work you'll pay for them until they do and they will not become a burden on the state. So her sister and family stay in Canada and have only been able to visit us once. This will be my fourth trip to them, the first one as driver. My grandfather could not get off work for the week we are staying. Passing through customs is simply showing my drivers licence, my grandmother's green card, and my Aunt's birth certificate. That's about ten minuets and we're on our way. I'm surprised that no one is complaining about the top being down. So I hope they are enjoying this as much as I.
We arrive in Montreal wandering the streets until we find where they live. It is not the best of neighborhoods with groups of adolescents blocking sidewalks, smoking cigarettes and talking loudly in French. However since I am dress much like them with a cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth and a pack rolled up in my white t-shirt sleeve I'm given the accepting nod. When I pulled out my black leather motorcycle jacket they were impressed. Although it was to dam hot to ware the thing I put it on to approving looks. The only thing I did not do was pull out my comb and run it through my hair. In those days Vitalis made sure my hair did not move.
We climbed up several floors of wooding stairs attached to the outside of the building reaching the rooftop apartment. After much hugging, tears and laughter we were introduced to Elfie my grand niece. It was not cool to hold babies, but I did for a bit and wondered why anyone would name a kit Elfie. We spent the week, at time I just drove around Montreal to escape the heat and crowd in the apartment. My Aunt Rosie and Uncle Joe spoke little English and mostly German. We managed to have several conversations as they too were close to my age.
A couple of year later they came to visit us on Long Island. By then I was married, owned a home and the Green Chevy convertible was long gone replaced by a Mercury Comet with four doors. Uncle Joe and I talked about Austria as they had come to tell us of their move back. He told me I must come to visit and see the nice house they had there. There was much crying as they climbed into a borrowed car and headed home never to be seen again. There are a few letter's and cards from them to my grandmother, but no more contact. Until now!
The letter I held in my had was from Elfie. I have been reunited with my grand niece. She has written me and I will write her back. She wants to know if I'll be coming to Austria again, see blog, and come hell or high water I will return next year.
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