I knew I wasn't going to be doing anything special to commemorate the 157th
Birthday of Otto King of Bavaria on 27 April 2005. At least that's what I
thought, until thinking further last night.
First thing in the morning of 27 April 2005, the final draft of the
"Prologue" of THE ODDS OF OTTOPIA (in more or less traditional novel form)
was proofed. Then the writing of "January 2004" began:
January 2004
Isma'il Raji al-Faruqi, the last Palestinian Governor of Galilee, was born 1
January 1921. Ultimately, he and his family lived in what Otto now calls
Trumbauer Palace Country, in the Cheltenham suburbs of Philadelphia. The
quondam Curtis Estate is close by. Otto and Maria and Isma'il and Lois now
often dine together. They like discussing strategies and music and
strategies in music and even schizophrenic Belgium. Potluck, for some
reason, is their favorite inside joke.
The great early 19th century English architect Edwin Lutyens died 1 January
1944. His was a very full career, and, like Trumbauer, he designed and built
great homes, often palaces, albeit for the wealthy British. His creative
talents were immense, even original, but when he visited the new
Philadelphia Museum of Art 7 October 1929, he admitted some envy. You could
say Philadelphia architect Robert Venturi is the biggest fan of Edwin
Lutyens architecture.
On 1 January 1945, boxcars full of Danube-Schwabians departed Apatin,
Yugoslavia heading for Soviet labor concentration camps near Bokovo,
Ukraine. Franziska's former cook Rosa was among those in the boxcars, but
the Baroness knew nothing of the expulsion as it was happening. As per
usual, knowledge of such events occurs only after life, and, indeed, it was
Alicia who told her mother of Rosa's sorrowful sojourn.
The Baroness had never heard such a thing before. "Who on Earth is out there
singing? It's a pretty song, and even a pretty voice, but really, public
singing in the middle of the afternoon? And in this neighborhood!"
It's not that Rosa didn't care, it was just the tall pine trees and the
whole atmosphere of the place. She couldn't help herself but sing. Her
employers were out, so there was no danger of being caught by them, but she
had no idea the Baroness living in the villa down the street was listening,
if not in fact spellbound. Not long afterwards, Maria, the cook at the Villa
von Ow, was getting married, and thus leaving. That's when the Baroness
decided she wanted Rosa as her new cook, even to the point where Rosa's
salary increased by fifty percent. That was mid-August 1942.
"...your film will be confiscated."
2004.04.20
In an effort to get fit, I've started to take morning bike rides leaving
from my back door. I make my way up to Roosevelt Boulevard (US Rt. 1) where
it crosses Tacony Creek (where Lenni-Lenapi Native Americans once camped)
and then head east towards the site of the world's largest building
implosion (excepting the World Trade Center), quondam site of Sears and
Roebuck Northeast Distribution Center and now home to Home Depot, Wal-Mart,
Staples, Pep Boys, Mattress Giant, Old Navy, etc., etc. I circle this
complex once completely, and then head north a bit to circle the Naval
Inventory Control Point (a big .US place). On Robbins Avenue, on the lawn in
front of the naval depot's main office building, are three vintage fighter
planes. I had forgotten these planes were there, but now I recall being
always excited to see them as a young child. As I pass the main entrance
gate to the depot, I think to stop and ask one of the guards if one is
allowed to take pictures of the planes from outside the fence. The guard (in
a very friendly manner) answered, "No, you're not allowed. If you are seen
doing so by one of the security patrols your film will be confiscated." I
then asked if this policy was put in place after 9-11, to which the guard
replied, "No. I know the Russians have 1000s of pictures of them, but you're
still not allowed to take pictures. It has always been a security breech." I
then told him "I'm glad I asked," and rode off. I now head south towards the
Roosevelt Boulevard again, just a block east of the implosion site. I again
circle the shopping center and then head home. [elapsed time: 45 minutes]
Much of this loop comprises long straight stretches, and the terrain is
consistently very close to flat. Today, I was mostly thinking about Baroness
Franziska von Ow. Earlier this year, my mother told me that, although the
Baroness had her own car and, before the war, her own chauffeur, in 1942 the
Baroness's car was in the garage, albeit without tires--the Baron's car was
confiscated outright so he took the trolley to work as Dean of the
agricultural machinery department of Munich's technical university. On many
days, the Baroness left the villa on her bike and apparently rode into town,
or, as my mother says, "Who knows where she went."
In 1950, after returning from the U.S.S.R. (now Ukraine) and finding herself
again living in Bavaria, my mother stopped by the Baron's villa, but alas
the house was occupied by U.S. military. Franziska's eldest son recently
confirmed this by stating, "The U.S. military were quite long in the house."
These days, the villa is rented out, although owned by Franziska's eldest
daughter, who lives on the old family farm in Württemberg. (In the
mid-1700s, Michael Mußigmann [Michael Musicmann 1696.08.12-1759.10.31], one
of my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfathers on my mother's
side, was mayor of Vollmaringen, a town in Württemberg.)
The Baron's family and household staff (i.e., my mother the cook and
Madelene the upstairs maid) spent Christmas Eve 1942 in the Chinese Room. My
mother played checkers on the floor with the children, but the Baron always
made sure the children won. Born actress that she is, my mother simply
feigned surprise and laughed aloud at her 'defeats'. The Chinese Room has
since returned to Schloss Piesing.
...and then the day went weird--long and fruitless web searching, long and
fruitless Paley Library searching. Well, not really all fruitless because I
did find HISTORISCHE STÄTTEN VI: BADEN-WÜRTTEMBERG (Historic Cities VI:
Baden-Württemberg, a 1965 book first borrowed here by me) with a fair amount
of von Ow listings in the index. I'm still not exactly sure, but I think my
mother worked for the head of the main line of von Ow descendants (and maybe
that's why the present (top?) Baron von Ow keeps on mentioning that his son
isn't married yet). And last night I wondered if any other descendants of
"Der Burgermeister von Vollmaringen" worked for the von Ows. No, my mother
wasn't the only one (although the group is not large), however, her time and
place of having done so stands out.
Oh, I hate to mention this, but yesterday I and Otto's schizophrenic other
were in the same room again. I really do hate it, but I still have to remain
the one that ultimately controls that situation.
more (happier) time-capsule stuff:
http://www.quondam.com/26/2587.htm
http://www.quondam.com/26/2588.htm
http://www.quondam.com/26/2589.htm
Birthday of Otto King of Bavaria on 27 April 2005. At least that's what I
thought, until thinking further last night.
First thing in the morning of 27 April 2005, the final draft of the
"Prologue" of THE ODDS OF OTTOPIA (in more or less traditional novel form)
was proofed. Then the writing of "January 2004" began:
January 2004
Isma'il Raji al-Faruqi, the last Palestinian Governor of Galilee, was born 1
January 1921. Ultimately, he and his family lived in what Otto now calls
Trumbauer Palace Country, in the Cheltenham suburbs of Philadelphia. The
quondam Curtis Estate is close by. Otto and Maria and Isma'il and Lois now
often dine together. They like discussing strategies and music and
strategies in music and even schizophrenic Belgium. Potluck, for some
reason, is their favorite inside joke.
The great early 19th century English architect Edwin Lutyens died 1 January
1944. His was a very full career, and, like Trumbauer, he designed and built
great homes, often palaces, albeit for the wealthy British. His creative
talents were immense, even original, but when he visited the new
Philadelphia Museum of Art 7 October 1929, he admitted some envy. You could
say Philadelphia architect Robert Venturi is the biggest fan of Edwin
Lutyens architecture.
On 1 January 1945, boxcars full of Danube-Schwabians departed Apatin,
Yugoslavia heading for Soviet labor concentration camps near Bokovo,
Ukraine. Franziska's former cook Rosa was among those in the boxcars, but
the Baroness knew nothing of the expulsion as it was happening. As per
usual, knowledge of such events occurs only after life, and, indeed, it was
Alicia who told her mother of Rosa's sorrowful sojourn.
The Baroness had never heard such a thing before. "Who on Earth is out there
singing? It's a pretty song, and even a pretty voice, but really, public
singing in the middle of the afternoon? And in this neighborhood!"
It's not that Rosa didn't care, it was just the tall pine trees and the
whole atmosphere of the place. She couldn't help herself but sing. Her
employers were out, so there was no danger of being caught by them, but she
had no idea the Baroness living in the villa down the street was listening,
if not in fact spellbound. Not long afterwards, Maria, the cook at the Villa
von Ow, was getting married, and thus leaving. That's when the Baroness
decided she wanted Rosa as her new cook, even to the point where Rosa's
salary increased by fifty percent. That was mid-August 1942.
"...your film will be confiscated."
2004.04.20
In an effort to get fit, I've started to take morning bike rides leaving
from my back door. I make my way up to Roosevelt Boulevard (US Rt. 1) where
it crosses Tacony Creek (where Lenni-Lenapi Native Americans once camped)
and then head east towards the site of the world's largest building
implosion (excepting the World Trade Center), quondam site of Sears and
Roebuck Northeast Distribution Center and now home to Home Depot, Wal-Mart,
Staples, Pep Boys, Mattress Giant, Old Navy, etc., etc. I circle this
complex once completely, and then head north a bit to circle the Naval
Inventory Control Point (a big .US place). On Robbins Avenue, on the lawn in
front of the naval depot's main office building, are three vintage fighter
planes. I had forgotten these planes were there, but now I recall being
always excited to see them as a young child. As I pass the main entrance
gate to the depot, I think to stop and ask one of the guards if one is
allowed to take pictures of the planes from outside the fence. The guard (in
a very friendly manner) answered, "No, you're not allowed. If you are seen
doing so by one of the security patrols your film will be confiscated." I
then asked if this policy was put in place after 9-11, to which the guard
replied, "No. I know the Russians have 1000s of pictures of them, but you're
still not allowed to take pictures. It has always been a security breech." I
then told him "I'm glad I asked," and rode off. I now head south towards the
Roosevelt Boulevard again, just a block east of the implosion site. I again
circle the shopping center and then head home. [elapsed time: 45 minutes]
Much of this loop comprises long straight stretches, and the terrain is
consistently very close to flat. Today, I was mostly thinking about Baroness
Franziska von Ow. Earlier this year, my mother told me that, although the
Baroness had her own car and, before the war, her own chauffeur, in 1942 the
Baroness's car was in the garage, albeit without tires--the Baron's car was
confiscated outright so he took the trolley to work as Dean of the
agricultural machinery department of Munich's technical university. On many
days, the Baroness left the villa on her bike and apparently rode into town,
or, as my mother says, "Who knows where she went."
In 1950, after returning from the U.S.S.R. (now Ukraine) and finding herself
again living in Bavaria, my mother stopped by the Baron's villa, but alas
the house was occupied by U.S. military. Franziska's eldest son recently
confirmed this by stating, "The U.S. military were quite long in the house."
These days, the villa is rented out, although owned by Franziska's eldest
daughter, who lives on the old family farm in Württemberg. (In the
mid-1700s, Michael Mußigmann [Michael Musicmann 1696.08.12-1759.10.31], one
of my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfathers on my mother's
side, was mayor of Vollmaringen, a town in Württemberg.)
The Baron's family and household staff (i.e., my mother the cook and
Madelene the upstairs maid) spent Christmas Eve 1942 in the Chinese Room. My
mother played checkers on the floor with the children, but the Baron always
made sure the children won. Born actress that she is, my mother simply
feigned surprise and laughed aloud at her 'defeats'. The Chinese Room has
since returned to Schloss Piesing.
...and then the day went weird--long and fruitless web searching, long and
fruitless Paley Library searching. Well, not really all fruitless because I
did find HISTORISCHE STÄTTEN VI: BADEN-WÜRTTEMBERG (Historic Cities VI:
Baden-Württemberg, a 1965 book first borrowed here by me) with a fair amount
of von Ow listings in the index. I'm still not exactly sure, but I think my
mother worked for the head of the main line of von Ow descendants (and maybe
that's why the present (top?) Baron von Ow keeps on mentioning that his son
isn't married yet). And last night I wondered if any other descendants of
"Der Burgermeister von Vollmaringen" worked for the von Ows. No, my mother
wasn't the only one (although the group is not large), however, her time and
place of having done so stands out.
Oh, I hate to mention this, but yesterday I and Otto's schizophrenic other
were in the same room again. I really do hate it, but I still have to remain
the one that ultimately controls that situation.
more (happier) time-capsule stuff:
http://www.quondam.com/26/2587.htm
http://www.quondam.com/26/2588.htm
http://www.quondam.com/26/2589.htm