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Dezember 2002/January 2003 - excerpts from the editorial
Bremen - Hanseatic Heritage in Northern Germany
by Tom Bross
First-time visitors to Bremen can get their bearings by heading for café tables on the west side of the Marktplatz – open space where Germany's oldest maritime city was founded as a Weser River
fishing village over a thousand years ago.
From that vantage point, the twin steeples of St. Peter's Cathedral (St. Petri-Dom) point skyward. Not graceful but, instead, stern and righteous, the ecclesiastical landmark dates from 1042,
progressing from exterior Romanesque to interior Gothic during construction throughout the Middle Ages.
Bremen's Rathaus, dominating the square's northern perimeter, exudes ornamentation in contrast to St. Petri's severity. Begun early in the 15th century as a Gothic showpiece, the arcaded structure was subsequently festooned with masonry typifying a North German regional style called Weser Renaissance: thick frostings of statues, balustrades, friezes, pinnacles, and scrollwork.
Facing the Rathaus, more contrast: the State Parliament (Haus der Bürgerschaft), glassy and bland, a throwback to 1960s city-center redevelopment following World War II air-raid destruction.
Parliamentary headquarters exists here because Bremen is not merely a major commercial metropolis. Like Hamburg, it is a city-state within the German Federal Republic.
The Marktplatz gets crowded by midmorning. Food and flower vendors do brisk business. Unpredictable north-continental weather permitting, every seat at every outdoor table is taken before church
bells clang a dozen times at noon.
The square (which Bremians regard as their gute Stube – parlor) stays traffic-free except for streetcars rolling through on east-west tracks. Bremer Stadtmusikanten statuary commemorating a
Brothers Grimm tale stands beside the Rathaus. A rooster atop a cat atop a dog atop a donkey recalls the misadventures of these vagabond musicians who outwit thieves while making their incomplete way to Bremen.
Kids, intrigued by make-believe, giggle as they reach high to pet sculptor Gerhard Marcks' black bronze figures.
The knight Roland has been a civic symbol since 1404. Wielding a sword and hoisting a shield with an inscription proclaiming freedom, he faces the cathedral, implicitly warning bishops and
aristocrats not to meddle in municipal affairs. Because merchants and ordinary townsfolk have been intensely proud of this self-governing symbolism for so many years, sandbags protected the 30-foot statue during
the war.
Familie Forschung - (Family Research)
by James M. Beidler
Second Wave Began in Texas
The colonial era of German immigration to the United States was concentrated both in its place of origin – the lion’s share
of which came from the German Pfalz (Palatinate) – and in destination – Pennsylvania.
The so-called “Second Boat” immigrants of the 19th century were a far more diverse group, both in origin and destination. The
cutting edge of this migration began with the pluck of the thousands of Germans who moved to Texas during its days as an independent republic in the 1830s and 1840s.
These Germans came, generally speaking, from the more northerly German states of Hannover, Hesse, and Brunswick. At least 15,000
ended up in Texas as the beginning of the German-American migration that brought 2.5 million immigrants to America in the 1800s.
Another difference between the colonial German immigrants and their 19th century counterparts stems from the advancement of the world economy into the Industrial Age. In the 1700s, the Germans who came to America were overwhelmingly farmers by occupation. In the 1800s, on the other hand, far more of the immigrants were merchants or tradesmen.
It is also said in Walter Struve’s book Germans & Texas: Commerce, Migration, and Culture in the Days of the Lone Star
Republic, that most of those who were attracted to Texas were neither upper nor lower class. Those in middle class, especially second and subsequent sons who stood out of the chain of inheritance in Germany,
made up a large portion of the immigrants. This again is part of the contrast between the pre-industrial, feudal economy (from which the colonial Germans emigrated) and those who came to America in the 19th
century. Feudal economies really did not have what was later called the “middle class.”
This economic difference also makes a difference to the genealogical researcher. While the church registers kept by Germans both
in Europe and America are the prime record group no matter which century is being researched, the members of this budding middle class in the 1800s are more apt to show up in the multitude of governmental
register and minute books. Struve gives an excellent example of the Giesecke family, in which he shows how tightly regulated was the early German capitalist economy. The Gieseckes were trying to establish a
textile shop, and their efforts to do this left a hefty paper trail. This is in contrast to the 1700s semi-feudal German emigrants, who might show up only on an occasional tax list and who, very often, left in
the middle of the night to avoid paying high manumission taxes, thus frustrating researchers trying to find the emigration or exit record that complements an American immigration or arrival record.
Resources on Texas Germans:
Struve, Walter. Germans & Texans: Commerce, Migration, and Culture in the Days of the Lone Star Republic. University of Texas Press: Austin, TX, 1996.
Geue, Chester William and Ethel Hander, editors. A New Land Beckoned: German Immigration to Texas, 1844-1847. Texian Press: Waco, TX, 1966.
Biesele, R.L. for the German-Texan Heritage Society. The History of the German Settlements in Texas, 1831-1861. McNaughton & Gunn: Ann Arbor, MI, 1987.
McGuire, James Patrick, principal researcher. The German Texans, Third Edition. University of Texas Institute of Texan Cultures: San Antonio, TX, 1970, 2001.
Genealogy Tips
by Michael Cupp, C.G., F.A. C. G.
A major problem for family historians researching German ancestry can be attempting to determine not only dates, but seasons,
months, days of the week, and holidays as they were written not only in older German civil and church records but also in family Bibles, family histories, personal notes, and letters of correspondence between
relatives and friends. Some older German records, both church and civil, are written in Old German, Middle German, or one or more of the various German dialects and even sub-dialects of the German language.
However, depending on the period of time, some German records were also written in Latin, French, or a combination of Latin, French, German,or one of the various German dialects or sub-dialects.
The German words for the days of the week, beginning with Sunday, are Sonntag, Montag, Dienstag, Mittwoch, Donnerstag, Freitag,
and Samstag. In older German records, however, those words are barely recognizable. Sunday, for instance, can be found as Dominica, Dominicus, feria dominica, Sumptag, Drottenstag, Erchtag, Dies solis, Suntag,
and Sunnentag. Monday can be found as Lunae, Maindag, Mantag, Mantig, Meintag, Mentag, Aftersonntag, Manendach, Mandach, and feria secunda. Tuesday as Martis, Dies Martis, Tistag, Donrsdag, Donstig, Ertag,
Dornstag, Dornstig, Eritag, Erichtag, Ewitag, Irchtag, Zeinstag, Ewinweichtag, Cinstag, Cistag, Dastag, and feria tertia. Wednesday is sometimes found as Wonstag, metach, mercurii, Kudenstag, Mechen, Metchen,
Metag, Gausdag, Gonsdach, Wonesdach Hebdomada media, Quaragesim intrans, Woensdach, Wodenstag, Wunentag, Wuonsdach, and feria quarta. Thursday as Dastag, Dunresdach, Dunstag, Pfinztag, Phinztag, Tunrestagend,
Tunrestag, and feria quinta. Friday as Veneris (dies), Wredach, and feria sexta. And Saturday is sometimes found as Saturni, Sonnabend, Loerdag, Loegendag, Sambestag, Snavend, Sameztag, Sneind, sabbatum,
Satertag, Saterdag, unsen abend, Dies Saturni, Loegerdag, Loerdag, and feria septins.
…….
German civil records are important sources for providing details of births, marriage, and deaths, and these records from Germany often give the occupation and social standings of the individuals
involved. Apart from the data to be found in civil records, one should be on the alert for supplemental information in what are called Beiakten, concerning marriages. The Beiakten may include useful
backgrounds on the bride and groom such as military discharges, birth abstracts, and so forth. Other significant civil records are census lists (untertanenlisten or Einwohnermeldelisten) and tax lists
(Steuerlisten).
In researching German marriage records, remember that German and American wedding customs and formalities are very similar. Some
differences are that in Germany a civil marriage is also obligatory and takes place at the local Standesamt (registrar's office) in the presence of two witnesses. The church wedding follows the civil ceremony,
thus there may be not just one, but two records of a marriage, one civil and one church. Wedding and baby showers have not been the custom in Germany, but often presents are delivered or presented on
Polterabend, the eve of the wedding. If Polterabend is celebrated, old pottery is smashed at the bride's front door to bring good luck.
In Germany the pattern has been for local records to be kept at the local level for a certain period of time and then to be
transferred to an archive at a higher government level such as a Stadtarchiv or a Kreisarchiv, if local archives do not exist. While there is no strict time limit for retention of civil records at the lower
level, as a rule, records over 100 years old have been forwarded to a higher archive level.
Hansel and Gretel’s Gingerbread House
This Treasured Edible Christmas Tradition
Debuted in the Opera, Not the Fairy Tale
By Nan Bauroth
“When they approached the little house they saw that it was built of bread and covered with cake, but the windows were of
clear sugar.”
For centuries, this delectable vision in the Brothers Grimm fairy tale “Hansel & Gretel” has so enchanted children that the edible fantasy has become a cherished Christmas decoration
synonymous with the season.
The story of how the witch’s house originally described by the famous brothers turned into a wondrous gingerbread confection of
candy ornamentation is just as charming.
Contrary to popular opinion, experts in German literature and music agree the notion of concocting the house of gingerbread was the legacy of Engelbert Humperdinck, the German composer who set the
popular fairy tale to music. The premiere took place at Weimar on December 23, 1893, which may also explain why the opera and gingerbread houses promptly became a Christmas tradition.
According to Dr. Ann Barbara Kersting-Meuleman, Professor at the Department of Music and Theater at the University of Frankfurt and the world’s leading authority on Humperdinck, citations from
the first English translation of the “Hansel and Gretel” libretto by Constance Bache in 1895 show that only the fence, not the witch’s house, was made of gingerbread figures.
At the end of the opera, these figures are revealed to be bewitched children, who return to life as soon as the witch is burnt. “This aspect (gingerbread children), which was not in the fairy
tales by Grimm and Bechstein, was invented by a family team of librettists: Engelbert Humperdinck’s sister Adelheid and her husband Hermann Wette, Engelbert’s father, Hedwig (his future wife) and her
sister,” asserts Dr. Kersting-Meuleman.
She points to Act 3, Scene 2, in which Hansel spies the Witch’s House at the Ilsenstein: “A little distance off, to the left,
is an oven; opposite this, on the right, a large cage, both joined to the witch’s house by a fence of gingerbread figures.”
Gretel sings: “What odour delicious, O say, do I dream? A cottage all made of chocolate cream. The roof is all cover’d with Turkish delight, The windows with lustre of sugar are white, And on
all the gables the gingerbread hedge!"
In Scene 3, the witch’s diabolical plan to shove Gretel into the magic fire in her oven and turn her into a gingerbread child is cleverly reversed by Gretel. She and her brother are astonished
to watch a troop of children appear, whose disguise of cakes has fallen away now that the spell is broken.
Given that the opera premiered on December 23 and was an instant smash, it is no wonder that people promptly took to baking
fantastic houses fashioned of gingerbread, which had been a staple for centuries in Europe, most probably due to ginger’s preservative qualities.
In Germany, making gingerbread houses was all the rage during the 19th century. In their book Gingerbread: Things to Make and Bake,
authors Theresa Layman and Barbara Morgenroth insist some native Germans still talk about their village being represented in gingerbread. “Each family would bring a model of their home to a central location
where the village was re-created in miniature.”
The authors also say that other Germans speak of the tradition of building the houses and waiting until New Year’s Day, when the children of the household would take small mallets to break their
gingerbread house apart and devour the pieces to usher in the New Year.
German Home Workers
By Mary C. Krombholz
For hundreds of years, German towns and villages were filled with a work force that was largely unseen. Home workers, known as “Hausindustrielle,” filled orders from morning to night, year
after year, in the privacy of their own homes. Today, there are few traces of the work that once supported each family. It is fortunate that the book, Sonneberger Geschichten, Von Puppen, Griffelnund
Kuckuckspfeifen, Aus der Arbeitswelt unserer Grosseltern (Sonneberg Stories of Dolls, Slate Pencils and Cuckoo Whistles, From theWorkaday World of Our Grandparents), was published in 1996.
This important book documents the lives of many home workers in the Sonneberg area. Children and grandchildren of original home workers have shared stories from their lives during the years their
parents and grandparents made dolls, toys, slate pencils, and cuckoo whistles in home workshops. The lack of food, long hours of work, and the absence of any of life’s luxuries are the word pictures a reader
receives from the book. It is also clear that Thuringian children helped make dolls and toys their parents could not afford to buy for them.
The book begins with a short introduction of “Sonneberg the Toyland.” The following sentences provide an overview of the founding of the cottage industries in this area of Germany: “In
Sonneberg and the surrounding region, various handcrafts were already developed around the year 1600; the first toy makers settled in here because of the abundance of wood. By 1735 there were about 30 different
kinds of wooden toy wares.”
“The toy makers built a Sonneberg trade region for the Nürnberg merchants who traveled the old trade routes from Nürnberg to Leipzig.” The wooden products included “wooden dolls, dancing
and pull-dolls, forest horns, flutes, small pipes, horse teams and riders.” The toy history continues: “Already since 1826 the Sonneberg toy makers had yearly sales totaling 18,000 Zentner (nearly 2 million
dollars) with an offering of about 1,000 toys.”
“Can you envision that in Sonneberg there was scarcely a house, in which toy products were not either produced, or bought up and packed for export? Also in the outlying sections of the city and
villages there were a great many families who supplied their livelihood by means of toy production. Here the home workshops or small family factories worked on production of half-parts which were assembled in
the factories of Sonneberg.”
Thomas Nast: Santa’s Artist
by Russell Roberts
In December 1862, as the United States prepared to celebrate Christmas in the midst of an increasingly-savage Civil War, a young German artist for the influential weekly magazine Harper’ssat
down to create a Christmas illustration to alleviate the gloom and doom of the war.
The artist, a short bearded man named Thomas Nast, was a good-humored person with a fondness for whimsy who had warm childhood memories of holidays in Bavaria. There his parents and the mystical
gift-giver, Pelze Nicol, had combined to turn the season into a magical time. Laughter and mystery had scented the air and every snowflake had seemed filled with the joy of the season.
Armed with these images, Nast began drawing the black and white holiday illustration for Harper’s. His hand literally raced over the surface of his sketch as the cheerful thoughts and
feelings poured from his mind.
What he created still lives with us today – as Santa Claus.
The man who would someday change the world with his drawings was born on September 27, 1840, in a military barracks in Landau, Bavaria. His father was a musician who played the trombone in the
Ninth Regiment Bavarian Band.
When he was five, young Thomas, along with his older sister and mother, was sent by his father to live in the United States. His father had outspoken opinions that were contrary to the existing
policies of the Bavarian government. When his enlistment was up, he followed his family to America, where they settled in New York City.
Young Thomas, although somewhat isolated from his peers in that he could only speak German, was nonetheless fascinated by this new land. Next door to the family’s house on William Street was a
man who made crayon sticks for artists. He gave the ones that did not turn out just right to the boy, and soon the Nast home was filled with his drawings. It quickly became obvious to parents and teachers alike
that although Nast was miserable at reading or arithmetic, it did not matter. His drawings were his voice; if a picture is worth a thousand words, Nast’s were priceless. They were a window into his soul.
When he was 15 years old, Nast went to see Frank Leslie, publisher of Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, a Time magazine-type of publication that featured topical news stories amid a sea of drawings.
Leslie told Nast to go down to the docks and draw the people boarding the ferry for New Jersey – a bustling frantic scene. Leslie later admitted that he gave the young German boy the difficult
assignment merely to discourage him.
However, Nast surprised him. The drawing he returned with was a shadow-filled, brooding, detailed depiction of the passengers bustling to and fro – clearly the work of a talented artist with an
eye for particulars. Leslie took one look at the drawing and gave young Nast a job. Little did he realize the momentous effects of that single decision.
From Nuremberg to Mifflinburg:
An Old World Tradition at Home in the New
by Dorothea S. Michelman
This year, instead of rushing into the holiday season by joining the throngs parked at your local shopping mall, consider a more
scenic destination: a leisurely drive through central Pennsylvania to the small town of Mifflinburg, where you will be greeted by a pair of giant nutcrackers and a medley of Renaissance airs as Saint Nicholas
– or Nikolaus – on a white charger, leads a festive procession through Mifflinburg’s Christkindl Market. Alighting from his horse, the good saint is soon surrounded by a swarm of children eagerly awaiting
the small gifts he has brought. Visions of department store Santas dancing in their heads? Not likely!
Before perusing the delightful offerings which await the visitor in the Christmas huts lining the street, festooned in greenery
and twinkling lights, you might want to stroll down Market Street to the symbol of the Christkindl Market: the Christmas pyramid, a fifteen-foot high rotating pyramid which displays the nativity figures from all
sides. Both a visual feast and a chapter from German history, the pyramid’s beginnings can be traced back to the Erzgebirge, or Iron Ore Mountains of eastern Germany. Originally a mining area rich in deposits
of silver, lead, tin, and iron ore, the Erzgebirge area – as happened in the region surround Mifflinburg – was eventually depleted of its mineral resources. Seeking a new livelihood, the miners found one in
the vast forests surrounding their homes. Exchanging axes for small chisels, they soon won fame for their exquisitely crafted wooden figures, Christmas pyramids – and, above all perhaps – their nutcrackers.
In fact, one Russian visitor was so fascinated by one of these figures during a visit to the region that, in 1892, he composed the Nutcracker ballet!
In Mifflinburg, the Christmas huts, or Weihnachtsbuden, are spread along Market Street between 4th and 6th streets, with a tempting array of goodies, from both the Old World and the New. Not surprisingly, the most popular items include nutcrackers and Christmas pyramids, but you will find everything from beautifully carved Räuchermännchen, or “smoke people,” representing various trades, which serve as holiday incense burners, to little Pflaumenmännchen or “prune people” – look for a chimney sweep figure to bring good luck in the coming year. For the gourmets on your list, such irresistible Yuletide delicacies as Lebkuchen and Stollen are heartily recommended.
100 years Steiff Teddy Bears
by Sue Grant
He is at home anywhere in the world but holds dual American and German nationality, is much loved by old and young alike, has a price on his soft round head with its big, dark eyes and winning
smile and he has something to celebrate – the Teddy Bear is 100 years-old!
Our cuddly companion traces his roots back to the small German town of Giengen an der Brenz, between Ulm and Heidenheim, birthplace of a certain Appolonia Margarete Steiff in 1847. History might
have taken a different course if polio had not left the 18-month-old child paralyzed in both legs and with restricted control over her right arm. A terrible blow indeed to a family whose female members earned
their living as seamstresses.
However, Margarete was a fun-loving, life-asserting, creative and charismatic child who, despite her handicap, insisted on learning how to sew like her older sisters and persevered until she too
had mastered the art with equal expertise. The girls already enjoyed a local reputation and, as the orders for clothes began to pour in, their father, Friedrich, rebuilt the family home to include a workshop.
Even after her sisters had married and moved away, Margarete continued to work from home and, in 1877, founded a felt shop which led to a further expansion of the family business and the opening of a small
factory.
Always on the lookout for new ideas, Margarete adapted a pattern for a felt elephant that she had come across in a magazine and, in 1880, produced a number of pretty elephant pincushions to give
away to friends as Christmas presents. The women certainly found them attractive. However, it was their children who simply adored the soft, cuddly little animals, so different from the hard, unbending wooden
and tin toys they normally played with, and begged their mothers for more. Within a short time, the business had expanded into the “Filzsachen und Spielwarenfabrik” (Felt and Toy Factory).
Now there was no looking back. As the annual turnover increased, so too did the range of soft toys until, by 1893, the company was listed in the commercial register, appearing at trade fairs and
tempting customers, not only with elephants but 30 other types of animals including monkeys, donkeys, horses, dromedaries, pigs, cats, dogs, mice, rabbits, and giraffes. Particularly sought after were the toys
mounted on wheels that the children could pull along behind them.
Of the many other family members involved in the Steiff firm in Germany or representing its interests in America and Europe, Margarete’s nephew, Richard, enjoyed an especially close relationship
with his aunt. A trained artist, he was fascinated by the brown bears in the zoo and spent all his spare time watching their movements and making sketches. Out of this arose the idea, which he put forward to
Margarete, of adding a bear to the Steiff collection – and herein lay the novelty – with a moveable head as well as arms and legs, a skin of mohair fur, and glass eyes.
His aunt was singularly unimpressed. She argued that a bear would frighten children, be costly to produce and rejected the idea as being too risky.
Seiffen: The Village at the Heart of Christmas
By Betsy Hills Bush
Seiffen is a little village of just 3,000 souls. It is so tiny, in fact, that it appears on only the most detailed maps of Germany. Even then it can be hard to find among the ripples that
represent the steep peaks and valleys of the Erzgebirge mountains along Saxony’s border with the Czech Republic. Yet, in reality, this nearly 700-year old settlement is truly the heart and soul of Germany’s
Christmas craft industry, where all manner of wooden decorations and toys have been crafted for centuries. It is a tradition that draws on the rich local history, resources, and the singular artistic talents of
the local population.
The shop windows that line Seiffen’s (pronounced zy-fen) main street are decorated for Christmas year round. And what a display they create – multi-tiered candle carousels, ornate as wedding
cakes, crowded with Christmas figures; lighted candle arches; dozens of colorful nutcrackers; pipe smoking figures in various guises; and countless brightly painted toys and figurines.
For Americans, many of these objects are familiar if not readily recognized. It is as if a treasure chest in our collective subconscious has been discovered in a dusty attic and its contents
spilled out for us to savor – they bring to mind the old-fashioned toys seen in century-old Christmas illustrations, or our earliest memories of holidays celebrated among elderly immigrant relatives.
For more than two hundred years, the natives of the Erzgebirge have created a distinctive style of wooden toys and decorations. Using water powered lathes, 19th century craftsmen here developed methods of mass-producing wooden soldiers, dolls, and animals that found their way to homes all over Europe and the United States. Political isolation in the mid-20th century preserved a traditional way of life that elsewhere might have faded away. Today, the direct descendants of those early craftsmen continue to manufacture these crafts that delight and fascinate.
Settlement in the Erzgebirge began in the Middle Ages, when silver and tin ore was discovered there. (“Erzgebirge” means, literally, “Ore Mountains.”) The silver brought out of the
numerous mines that dot the region was the source of Saxony’s great wealth. With this silver, the Electors of Saxony built their capital city of Dresden, which became a center of art and culture. At their
height, the mines were among the most technologically and scientifically advanced for their day.
Oberstdorf - The German Ski Option
by Skip Kaltenheuser
Gstaad's ski pleasures are terrific and well-known, but wandering around its uniform Swiss chalet architecture reminds one, if unfairly, of the admonition of Harry Limes, the
Orson Welles character in "The Third Man," that centuries of Swiss tranquility had produced the cultural high of the cuckoo clock, of which the town feels like a giant version. After all, William F.
Buckley hangs out there. Enjoy Gstaad and its environs, including less fancy nearby towns, but also explore the Alps contrast offered by Oberstdorf, Germany, a 5-1/2-hour drive from Gstaad, through pastoral
mountain valleys, many of which are remarkably unchanged over the last century or so.
The car is the way to go from Gstaad, unless you don't mind a nine-hour ferry, bus and train trip with seven transfers. Or, you could simply catch Oberstdorf when in Munich, 1-1/2 hours
away, which makes the ski area a weekend Mecca for urban denizens. That makes weekdays the best for uncrowded slopes, though even on weekends lifts weren't oppressive by U.S. standards, and once one hit the
higher expanses, there was ample room to move.
Oberstdorf, in the Iller Valley, lies at the junction of seven valleys, in one of Bavaria's sunniest regions. In
mid-winter, the town's weather was comfortable, with patches of green grass coloring the snow quilt. The architecture is varied, yet projects plenty of old-country charm. Culinary and pub offerings are plentiful
and diverse, from walk-down aprés-ski dives for the younger, colored hair and token tattoo crowd alternating energy drinks with schnapps, to more traditional beer and boar establishments.
For those who hesitate to place words "German" and "cuisine" side by side, there are at least two restaurants that dispel all prejudice. No vegetarians need apply, but
carnivores will delight at the "Jager Stube," with heads of game mounted on walls, a band that's a fusion of om-pah-pah,
jazz-riffs, zydeco and other mix-and match influences, (don't sit next to the band if you want to converse), and the option of miniature kegs delivered to one's table. Another, "Die
Traube," which also offers excellent food from fish and game to strudel larger than your head, has a quartet of
traditional folk instruments, including the spoons, played with gusto by an English maiden who married the owner.
Perhaps as a counter-weight to slapping on calories like dumplings, Oberstdorf has long been a health retreat. In the 1400's the Earls of Montfort and Rothenfels took cures in a
nearby sulfur bath. Legendary health gurus pioneered treatments followed for centuries here, including hay and mud packs, mud baths, herbal and water therapies, physiotherapies, massages, saunas, and there's
even room for vegetarians.
Kurt Adler: America's Father Christmas
By Carolyn Cook
If we were looking for a real, live Father Christmas in the United States today, one man would be the perfect choice: Kurt Adler. His vision of Christmas is a reality in modern day America.
A native of Wurzburg, Germany, Adler fled Nazi Germany, and, after a year in London, moved to the U.S.A. in 1937. Only 15 years
old, he left his parents, grandparents, and sister behind, which he says was the most difficult decision he ever had to make.
He found jobs at Brillo and other export companies in his early years in the United States and learned some fundamentals of
international trade.
After a stint in the U.S.Army during World War II, he was ready to be on his own. "I didn't want to take orders
anymore," he jokes.
In 1946, Adler and his late wife, Beatrice, established Kurt S. Adler, Inc., originally an export business. From his headquarters
on 28th Street in New York City, he sent candy and detergent to Europe, umbrellas to Nicaragua, pineapples to Switzerland, and steel wool to Brazil.
As the European countries began to rebuild, Adler saw the opportunity to switch to importing. At first he concentrated on general
giftware, but soon realized that post-war America lacked the variety of Christmas ornaments that could be found in Europe. Around 1950 only basic ornaments, such as tinsel, icicles, and glass balls were
available at five-and-dime, toy, and department stores. Having grown up near Nuremberg, Germany, the home of Christmas ornaments, Adler began working with contacts in that area.
Soon he had a line that included German angels and candy containers in the shapes of Santas and women, Czechoslovakian spun glass
ornaments, Italian miniature tree lights, and German snow globes. Suddenly there was a new look to Christmas decorations in the United States. The German lines grew to include handcrafted nutcrackers, smokers
and ornaments from the Erzgebirge. Initially the nutcrackers included figures such as toy soldiers, guards, and kings.
Adler also can be credited with creating the realistic artificial Christmas tree based on his fond memories of times spent in his
youth. He worked with a German factory to create the product he desired. He wanted a tree that looked real, quite different from the existing rubber and bottlebrush types of trees that were available at the
time. The factory is reputed to have brought in a real tree from the forest to duplicate out of heavy wired tinsel. The result was Kurt Adler's Black Forest Christmas tree. Not only was it more attractive than
the other artificial trees on the market, it was sturdier as well.
In the 1960s, Adler was one of the first to see the advantages of doing business with factories in the Orient. With manufacturing
done in the Far East, Adler was able to introduce commercially manufactured holiday accessories, which were designed and developed by the firm, and to introduce wood-turned ornaments. To expand his stock, Adler
traveled the world seeking out ornaments of ceramics, stained glass, resin, fabric maché and mouth-blown glass. Today the firm works with over 200 factories.
Armin Mueller-Stahl: Quiet German Makes His Mark On Hollywood
By Douglas Sutton
For all of Germany's deep and rich tradition in the cinema, it can be argued that the impact of German film actors and actresses in Hollywood has been little more than marginal. Outside of the
legendary Marlene Dietrich, the pickings are extremely thin.
Yet before all is said and done, one German has quietly and assiduously worked his way into the Hollywood scene as a versatile "character actor" with full-fledged star status: Armin
Mueller-Stahl. While he may never become a household name among American filmgoers, he has the satisfaction of knowing that he does not lack for offers from established directors and producers in Los Angeles.
"What I am perhaps most proud of is that I never have been asked to play a 'bad German' role," Mueller-Stahl told German Life during a recent vernissage of his paintings in the
northern city of Lübeck. "In fact, I have played Jewish roles."
What makes his particular Hollywood story so much different from so many others is that his appearance on the United States moviemaking scene came relatively late in life – in his 50s – and
with an equally late start in trying to become practiced enough in English.
"Russian, no problem," he quipped. "But English? Well, you can judge for yourself." This reference to Russian is a further reason for what makes Mueller-Stahl's story even more
fascinating: he grew up in what was then Russian-occupied communist East Germany, where Russian was the primary foreign language taught in school.
Mueller-Stahl, after music studies, made his way into acting and became a stage and film star. In fact, his status could be described as that of a superstar – or as much of one as the system
would allow people to become without challenging the Communist Party's dominance. He lived a privileged and, within the constraints of that system, a fairly fulfilling artistic life.
Things could have stayed that way except for something called "conscience." In 1976, Stahl signed a petition protesting against East Germany's expulsion of controversial protest
folksinger Wolf Biermann, and from one day to the next, Stahl went from superstar to non-person: No further film roles, no stage work.
"Rather a break in one's career than in one's own backbone," is what Stahl, now 71, says about the moral stance he took during that dark period. His recollection of that part of his
history is now also further clouded by having since then read the files which the East German State Security apparatus kept on him. He discovered that some people he had thought were his friends back then had
actually been spying on him.
A Magical New Year’s Eve in Rothenburg
by Sharon Hudgins
New Year’s Eve is my least favorite winter holiday. My attitude has nothing to do with time passing on, or any of those other clichés. It just seems to me that New Year’s celebrations are
anti-climactic after the anticipation of Advent and the warm joy of Christmas.
My husband Tom and I tend to avoid the forced gaiety of New Year’s parties where it seems as if everyone has decided to have a drunkenly good time just because it is expected of them. Usually
our only concession to the changing calendar is a bottle of good champagne and a special meal for two, all in the quiet privacy of our own house. However, one New Year’s Eve away from home was particularly
memorable – even magical – because everything that occurred that night happened to us purely by chance.
At the end of December several years ago, we were driving across Germany en route to a new job in another part of Europe. Our station wagon was packed to the top, and we were bone-tired after a
long day of travel. Late that afternoon, a heavy snowstorm forced us to stop for the night in the medieval city of Rothenburg-ob-der-Tauber. The view from our Gasthaus window the next morning convinced us that
we would be crazy to leave such a beautiful place right away – especially since that was also the last day of the year. So we decided to take a day off from our journey and explore romantic Rothenburg.
By dinner time that evening, the cold weather had made us ravenous, but every restaurant we went to was already booked in advance for New Year's Eve. Finally we found the only place in the city
that still had one table not yet reserved, a rather fancy restaurant in the Baumeisterhaus, a historic stone building dating from 1596. Attired in woolen sweaters, corduroy jeans, and heavy hiking boots, we
joined the elegantly dressed Germans who had come there to celebrate Sylvesterabend (as they call New Year’s Eve). The meal was superb, the wine was one of our favorites, the band was enthusiastic – and as
we joined the jolly Germans taking a turn around the dance floor, no one seemed to mind that we were not dressed for the occasion.
Later that evening, just as we were preparing to leave, three characters in colorful medieval costumes came into the restaurant. One carried an old lantern, one wielded a battle-axe, and another
held a hunting horn. After blowing three blasts on the horn, they sang a short song, and the proprietor rewarded each of them with a large glass of wine. The trio must have already performed at several other
places that New Year’s Eve, because they were fairly well potted by the time we saw them. We followed them out of the restaurant and down a narrow cobblestone street, the only light an eerie glow from the old
lantern they carried, swinging from a pole. In that setting, it was easy to imagine that we had been transported back in time, to Rothenburg of the Middle Ages.
Calendar
December 2002
Chicago, IL
November 28- December 23:Christkindlmarket. Daley Center Plaza. For info call 312-644-2662 or see www.christkindlmarket.com
Baltimore, MD
December 1: Christkindlmarkt: Zion Church. E. Lexington Street. For info call 410-727-3939.
Davenport, IA
December 1: Quad City Arts Festival of Trees: For info call 563-324-3378 or e-mail festoftrees@quadcityarts.com or see www.quadcityarts.com/festoftrees
Tulsa, OK
December 6-8: Christkindlmarkt. For info call 918-744-6997 or see www.Gastulsa.org
Elkhart Lake, WI
December 5-15: Old World Christmas Market. For info call 800-876-3399 or see www.osthoff.com
Fredericksburg, TX
December 6-15: Weihnachten: Christmas Festival and market. For info call 888-997-3600 or see www.fredericksburg-texas.com
San Antonio, TX
December 7: Kriskindlmarkt: Beethoven Maennerchor – Halle und Garten. For info call 210-222-1521
Austin, TX
December 7: Christmas Market. German-Texan Heritage Society. For info 512-482-0927 or 866-482-4847
San Antonio, TX
December 8: Die 98ste Deutsche Weihnachtsfeier. For info contact jbculver@grandecom.net
Louisville, KY
December 8: Christmas Concert. German-American Club Gesangverein. For info call 502-894-9512 or 502-426-1740
Arlington, VA
December 14:American-Austrian Society Christmas Ball. For info call301-577-3503 or see www.geocities.com/americanaustriansociety
Washington, DC
December 15: Washington Saengerbund Christmas Concert. For information contact 202-310-4691 or 3010 577-3503 or see www.geocities.com/saengerbund
Kensington, MD
December 30: “Silvester” Concert, Festival of Lights and Carols. Blaskapelle “Alte Kameraden. For info call 301-587-0144 or see www.fairfaxband.org
January 2003
Milwaukee, WI
January 11: Gala Maskenball: Spielmannszug Milwaukee. For info call 262-246-4970
Columbia, SC
January 26-March 9: Decorated Enamelware, Mostly German: U of SC. For info Call 803-777-3895 or e-mail crmackl@gwm.sc.edu.
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