Thirty three years ago, a squalling baby was born in Augusta, Maine. And the baby grew and became girl.*

HISTORY OF RAE PART I

I didn’t plan to post much about my history but Babsis very nicely requested more information about my connection to Germany. And, well, knowing a little bit more about my background will serve as a good foundation for some other posts I have planned.

Five girls. Plus my mom. My dad was totally outnumbered.I’ll start out with the surprise of my birth. Err, not that I unexpectedly popped out of my mom one day— Don’t laugh! That did sort of happen in my family at some point but it’s not my story to tell. No, see, my parents had their full with four girls ranging between 9 and 14 years old. As you can imagine, they weren’t sitting around twirling their thumbs and thinking, “You know what this house needs? Another kid!” Which is why they were surprised to find out that’s exactly what they were getting. The up side? After originally making a deal with my mom that she’d name the girls and he’d name the boys, he finally got to name one of his kids after his father.

I was born in Maine but between February 1977 and November 1979 we moved from Augusta to Corpus Christi, Texas to Joppatown, Maryland. Nothing like setting the stage for our nomadic lifestyle.

As for why we moved around so much… Wouldn’t it be cool if it’s because my parents were con artists and we had to pick up stakes any time the authorities got too close? Yeah. Unfortunately, my life is not the premise of a TV series. My dad was just a civilian working for the United States Army. Basically I’m an Army Brat without the Army part (and my sisters will totally support that statement). My family had lived overseas prior to my birth and my father loved it. No surprise, then, when he accepted a position within the Berlin Command at the end of 1979.

And thus began my time in Germany. Between the years 1979 and 1992, we lived:

  • Berlin, Nov. 1979 to Aug. 1985
  • Gießen, Aug. 1985 to Feb. 1987
  • Bremerhaven, Feb. 1987 to June 1988
  • Heidelberg, June 1988 to May 29, 1992

In a couple of cases, we actually lived in smaller towns outside those bigger cities and, while we living in the Heidelberg area, my dad was working in Mannheim. But generally speaking, that’s where we were located during those times. As you can see, we skipped our way around the country.

Ready to hit the slopes of Ischgl, Austria with my dad.Except for the South but we made up for not living there by visiting often. My parents still had friends in Garmisch from when they had lived there in the ’70s and my dad is an avid skier. So winter vacations were spent skiing in Austria with stops in Munich and Garmisch on our way. Once we joined a group in Northern Italy instead but I got so sick all I remember of that trip is how the winding mountain roads do not mix well with nauseousness. And, also, check your plastic bags for holes before giving them to your kids to throw up in, mmm’kay?

There were lots of other trips as well. Our eighth grade trip was to Amsterdam and the surrounding countryside in the Netherlands. And I spent two spring breaks in Rio Del Mar, Spain with at least one side trip to Barcelona as I remember visiting when they were preparing the city for the 1992 Summer Olympics. Weirdly enough, my only experiences with France were making pit stops there on our way to Spain.

My father traveled to Scotland several times because, if he’s not skiing, he’s golfing and no golfer lives that close to St. Andrews and doesn’t make the trip to play the Old Course. However, those were boys only weekends so, despite the UK being the one place in Europe I’ve always wanted to visit, I never made it over the English Channel.

The thing about growing up in Germany – and make no mistake, it’ll always be as much my home as Maine or Florida – is that you don’t really comprehend the opportunities you’ve been given that so many other Americans aren’t. I took a lot of things for granted because it was all I had ever known. Looking back now, I wish we had done so much more or had taken more pictures of what we did do. It’s definitely taught me the value of taking the time to appreciate where you live. (Harder than you’d think when you live in one of the most popular vacation destinations in the world.)

Me looking through the fallen Berlin Wall.Of course, the other thing is that you often forget what you did experience. Most children don’t put “gun” on their homework assignment to list metal things found on the playground. (Well, ok, maybe more children do than I think given the crime in some parts of our country these days.) Nor can they see Checkpoint Charlie at a museum and tell stories about how they used to pass through it on their way to go shopping in East Berlin. Or remember hanging out in the shadow of the Heidelberg Castle or watching snowfalls in the Alps, etc., etc.

I used to daydream about how great it’d be to grow up in one town. To have that friend you’ve known all your life, know everybody at the local store, and be able to just look around and see all the places where your life’s history has played out. But honestly? I can’t actually imagine myself happy in that life. When you’re constantly on the move all you want is to settle in one place but, once you’ve gotten used to moving around, it’s what you crave. I’ve lived in Orlando for 13 years now – The longest I’ve lived anywhere! – but, in those 13 years, I’ve moved six times. I think it’s safe to say… It’s in my blood.