Favorite Spots--Dillingen an der Donau

I found these photographs that I took in the late 80's of a German exchange I did in Dillingen, a beautiful little city on the border of Bayern and Baden.

Cles went with me that year. It was the first time I took someone in my family besides my Annie. He had just finished the sixth grade, so I wondered at the time if it was a stretch on my part taking him while he was so young.

Like everyone who experiences a new culture, Cles did some things that were sometimes funny, sometimes interesting. He would smell his food, not just on his own plate and not just a quiet sniff. When I passed plates of food to him, he would put his face inches from the food and smell so loudly that he would wrinkle his nose.

I had talked to him about it. But he continued to do it every meal. Finally Erika talked to me about it. One evening at the main meal, Cles takes the main course plate in this hands, and he puts the plate in his face and snorts. I felt the need to be dad, so I took the plate told Cles to take whatever he wanted, reminded him about smelling the food, and gave him a little swat--more like a tap--on the top of his head. It was like what you would do to yourself if you forgot something important.

Tears well up in his eyes and his dimpled chin quivered like it did when he was young. "Ohhhhh!" Erica said while giving me a dark look. Willi chuckled a bit. Erika came around the table immediately and began doting on Cles. It was cute, but I was the one most embarrassed at that point.


The pictures are from the window in the guest room on the top floor. It was not only very comfortable, but it also had a beautiful view of the entire neighborhood. I only wish I had taken more pictures and actually labeled them. I am sure I have some pictures of Dillingen, but after 20 years, I am not able to identify some of the buildings I photographed.

Each day Cles and I would teach Cles German, and every day when we walked together to school, I would drill verbs with him. Cles would use the language too, more than some of my students who had had five years of German in the classroom who refused to try to speak.

The summer of 1988 was the last year that I taught in Malad. This exchange was one that was truly magical--it was in Southern Germany where I always wanted to be, and it was in a small city where I always wanted to visit. The people were so nice and the area was so beautiful. The summer days were full of endless blue skies, and Willi and Erica's house was in a spot that had a "rural" feeling. It was far enough outside the city that you didn't hear traffic.

During that final exchange I did in Malad, I decided that it would be my best one for the students there. We had a beautiful city. We developed many friendships there. And we traveled to fantastic places.

We spent five to seven days in Italy, and we spent another nine days in Austria. I knew I was leaving for Idaho Falls, and Ann was already trying to sell our house in Malad while Cles and I were in Germany.

Three weeks before leaving on the trip with my students, my slimy principle I worked for in Malad for almost nine years told me that I would be teaching only English there in the future, since he hired a Home Economics teacher from Soda Springs who would begin teaching Spanish classes. He told me that they did not want anything competing with this new program. I had a job in Idaho Falls two days after that conversation.

I did everything to make the trip memorable for Malad students, since I knew it would be the last one I would do for them, and from what the principle told me, I assumed it would be the last one anyone could do for them, since he told me the program would no longer exist at the high school.

Cles and I were sitting at a table in a restaurant during one of our long trips. The students sat separately and were whispering and laughing at me. When I asked them what was so funny, one girl said, "We know something you don't know."

I don't remember what else she said, but she implied that she knew about my no longer teaching German in Malad. They knew how hard I had worked in Malad to create the program I had developed there, and they knew how sensitive I was to hearing anything that threatened to weaken what I had done. All of them knew how angry something like that would make me.

My reaction was shocking to them. "I know something you don't know," I said grinning from ear to ear. I then told them that I would be teaching German the next year, just not in Malad. Their reaction was interesting. I was anger, shock, amazement.

Ann began getting calls in Malad from people who were upset about our leaving. And then Ann called me. That year I took Joe and Louise Davis with me, a husband and wife team I worked with in Malad both as a teacher and formerly as a student at the high school when I was young. The plan was to have them take the students home while I went to a seminar in the German Democratic Republic. Only 25 teachers from the U.S. were able to participate in that program, and it was both an honor to be selected and an opportunity to visit a university in former East Germany.

Once the word was out in Malad that we were leaving, the time was prime to sell the house. Ann called and told me that either I would come home with the rest of the group or she would tell the superintendent that I would return to Malad School District. I changed my ticket the next day.

Cles wanted to attend a Judo class that afternoon, so Willi and Erica and I told him to stay at the school until we returned. We expected to be back by 5:00 p.m. It was 10:00 p.m. when we returned, and we could not find Cles anywhere. We looked everywhere near the school, but Cles was not there.

We drove home and found Cles sitting in a chair in the garden area sipping a soda and eating a candy bar. I gave Cles a 5 DM coin to use, and I made sure that he had one in his pocket every day, so he did not have to ask his "dad" for money when we went somewhere. Cles did not insist on that, but I could see that it was nice to do that, and a couple of the students had teased Cles about asking me for money. He would step up to a counter in a store and say perfectly to anyone what he wanted in German. It made me proud, because my students who could have done that and more refused to speak anything but English. The next week, Erika told me how one shopkeeper had smiled as he told her about the little American who spoke German.


The garden area at Willi and Erica's house was beautiful. They had a little pond with plants, and they originally had purchased frogs for it, but they never stayed in the pond.

Cles walking home alone and stopping at a store along the way to buy a soda and candy might not be significant for some, but for me, it was amazing. Dillingen was a small town for German standards, but it had 20,000 people living there.






One field trip we did while there was a visit to Blautopf, the site of this beautiful spring that feeds into the Blau--a river that eventually feeds into the Danube, or the Donau as it is known in German speaking countries.
I found this picture online which shows the spring in late fall or early winter. It is in my opinion one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.

On weekends during the exchange when Erika had a lot of papers to read, Willi would take me on little trips. These lengthy afternoon rides would take us through beautiful country, occasionally across the border into Austria.I would have been content to walk about the streets in Dillingen, but my friends there were incredible hosts. It is a regret I have about not being able to travel like I once could. It would be so nice to see Dillingen and my friends there again, but I do have the pictures and the memories.

When I was in Dillingen on the second trip with a group from Idaho Falls, I traveled to Stuttgart to see Pink Floyd in concert at Neckar Stadion. I remember telling Willi and Erica how difficult it was to understand the German dialect in Stuttgart. Years later when I did an exchange in Stuttgart, I remember how easy it was to understand the German there. While in Dillingen, I never realized that their dialect was the one I had become accustomed to hearing: a mixture of Schwabisch and Bayerisch that is like music to my ear.

Future Aggies

Grandma, Lydia and the grandkids went to Logan to get Utah State T-shirts and hooded sweatshirts. Grandma found a pink hoodie for Anna, and after getting back to Idaho Falls, our cute little blond kept telling us it was cold.

It had been well over ninety degrees all day.

And then we realized she wanted to wear the new sweatshirt. Anna makes me smile.

The boys are fun too. They are best buddies and have this incredible connection. They have spent a lot of time together, whether in Disneyland, Idaho Falls or Minnesota. It is so much fun for me to see how the three of them play together.

From a distance, the three kids were attracted to the Asian statue they discovered while in Logan, but when they approached it, they discovered it wasn't like the one that reminded them of their Pop Pop, so they were not as interested.

Visiting Aunt Connie was a must, and it was fun to spend the afternoon there having fun, jumping on the trampoline and eventually seeing Connie's Tommy play in a baseball game.

It was a full day. Everyone returned late to Idaho Falls, and just seeing them made me realize how much fun they had had in Cache Valley, lips and faces and new T-shirts stained with bug juice drinks.

My grandchildren do everything with passion, whether it is playing or fighting or even sleeping, and in this picture of Anna, the latter is obvious.

It has been so much fun having the three little ones home with us.

Laughing at Grandma's Expense

I sometimes wondered why I was so able to scare my kids and now my grandkids so easily when I wanted to tease them. I am glad Lydia took this clip, because now I understand that my "scary eyes," are much too frightening, even for teasing. It even scared me to watch them.

Teasing is very much a part of the family. All my grandchildren do it extremely well, although I think Tommy does it the most. I have to admit, as fierce as Anna's temper is, I would have enjoyed teasing her a lot as an older brother. Like everyone else in the family I know, Anna has another genetic trait--able to tease but not able to be teased. I find it funny, yet as I want to accept the blame for those genes, I realize my own Annie shares that same trait.

I learned a very long time ago not to tease my Annie, unless I wanted to experience real pain. But it is so difficult not to do it sometimes.

Zion National Park in Spring

Zion National Park will always be a favorite memory for me, because I could never hike the trails I once did--especially the steep climbs and the sheer cliffs. First, walking a considerable distance without a chair with me post-chemo physical handicaps is a problem, but secondly, my awkward steps could be dangerous. I am glad that I took the pictures I did on those early trips.

Springtime was always the best time to be there. Everything was green, and on one hike to a small pond, there usually was always water running over the falls.

In my opinion, this area of the park was the most beautiful, although everything there is breathtaking. At Disneyland so-called guides on the Jungle Cruise ride speak of the back side of water. Here it is not a joke. It is beautiful too, although I did not like standing upon a large rock floor with a parallel rock ceiling above me.

Leslie Introduces Our Family to Carolina Blue

When Leslie first visited us in the summer of '03, she hesitated to be in the family picture. I insisted, because I could tell how much Cles cared for her. I knew they would be a couple.
The best thing that happened to Cles in a long time was meeting a blue-eyed Tar heel. The first week she met us first hand was just before I had surgery on my hip in 2003. We had an English Bulldog Guido, who loved pretty blonds even more than Cles. He was cute to us, but to Leslie, she saw this dog who pulled on his leash and dug into the carpet to get to her. He wanted to show affection by licking her legs. When a dog has the face of Quasimodo and is aggressive like that, it is not endearing. And Leslie does not like dogs.

She also saw our bizarre sense of humor immediately, something we inherited from our Welsh, Malad roots. Cles would take the dog outside for Guido's little break every day, and when he returned, Cles asked me, "Dad, how come Guido keeps doing that nasty thing on my leg?"

I was embarrassed, because I had not had the time to break him of the disgusting habit with the bad hip and preparing for surgery. But I had a quick reply. "It's because you're so damn cute."

I will always remember how hard Leslie laughed, and not many people besides me laugh at my jokes. After staying in our home, we loved her immediately.

Their wedding day was one we especially enjoyed. It was so much fun to see how happy our son was.

In December of '07, Cles graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in Asian Studies. Leslie graduated in the spring.

At the end of graduation, it was fun for me to see the rivalry that exists between UNC and Duke. Parents sing the Tar Heel fight song, and at the end, a few in the audience add the lines they normally save for when Duke is on the basketball court there--"Go to hell, Duke!" I loved it.

After the ceremonies and our two visits to North Carolina, our grandkids began wearing Carolina blue. And Ann and I did the same. I even have a blue Santa cap that Cles and Leslie sent me this past Christmas. Cles sent most of the UNC things, but we buy additional things too. We became avid fans.
When I was in Chapel Hill for graduation in '06, besides going to the ceremonies, Cles was able to get tickets to a basketball game. To see a game in Chapel Hill was an incredible experience.

Pop Pop, Tell Me A Story

"Do you know your Pop Pop loves his Jack?"

Jack's eyes sparkle.

"Yeah." The whisper is not staccato style,

neither loud nor brief.

Jack savors the word. His answer sounds

like playful afternoon breezes in early autumn.
"Tell me a story Pop Pop." Jack curls

into the hollow of grandpa's arm.

The boy's eyes hint that sleep is near, yet they sparkle with smiles

like the glimmering surface of a pond under a setting sun.

Jack waits for a Disneyland tale and wants

to imagine the taste of a churro

and feel the grainy texture in his mouth with hot caramel or fudge.

He wants to hear Pop Pop sing songs about pirates.

Jack imagines joyful shouts and screams and laughter.

Disneyland is where trees always cling to green leaves

and where flowers are always in bloom.
But story time is not finished until he hears about light sabers
and laser blasts that light dark corners

of the galaxy: stories about Luke, Han, Chewbacca and Obi Wan.

When afternoon sagas end, Jack always asks,

"Will you finish the story tomorrow?"

Jack smiles, because there will always be

another naptime safe in the hug

of Pop Pop's arms.

Pop Pop's Conversations with His Little Princess

The door yawned at early afternoon sunlight and I heard

her mom's voice. "Anna are you

going to say hello to Pop Pop?"

Two little feet danced on toes quiet as the hours before dawn.

Anna hopped down a hallway. And then she stood and looked at me
like a tiny statue in a forgotten niche.



Blond pigtails rested for a moment.

She swept blond curls from her eyes, allowing her two chocolate chip orbs to be seen.

Anna waited for me to notice her. "Well hello! Do you know you are Pop Pop's princess?" She blinked pure joy.

She let her smile sweep across her face like a tiny white cloud crossing an endless summer sky.

Anna pointed her index finger at three faces on her T-shirt of pink.

"That's Sleeping Beauty. That's Belle. That's Cinderella." Her tiny finger pressed against each princess face.

"Cinderella! That's my favorite." The last princess was the one with hair like the princess who danced before me.

"Pop Pop hasn't seen you for a long time. Can he have a hug?"

Grandpa's princess ran with outstretched arms. Anna accepted one hug and one kiss.

And as quickly as she appeared she disappeared too. But she would look for Pop Pop again, bringing another hug with tiny arms and beautiful chocolate eyes.