Denver Criest to Sleep

Dear Jack,

For your perusing:

Denver climbed into bed with Sam. He couldn’t help it. Sam looked so good laying there with his closed eyes facing the alarm clock, that Denver had to snuggle up in front of him in that spot where the legs curve up to support him. Of course He couldn’t get under the covers, that would be too hard, and Sam might wake up, and then he might get yelled at, but since Denver carefully slid into that space, Sam didn’t notice, and as the night drifted on, he even put his arm around Denver showing him his affection.

Denver found Sam at a bus station in Mobile about a year ago. He stood there with a green grungy duffle bag, with his Nike tennis shoes smelling of the baseball field. Denver always loved baseball players, he knew that they loved to play catch, and that was Denver’s favorite game. The thing that will remain in Denver’s mind is the smell of Sam’s jockey tee shirt. It smelled of a musty twenty year old who had just ate a good mustard covered sausage. Sam smiled at Denver and called him over. Denver remembers the moment vividly. “I finally have found my soul mate!” he had thought. Of course Sam took Denver home with him--who wouldn’t have, he looked so pitiful, covered in mud with briers stuck in his leg hairs. Ever since then Sam and Denver have been the closest friends.

Sam had only one rule, that Denver not sleep in the bed with him. Now Denver never knew why this was, but from the look on Sam’s face, Denver felt like he would be sent away if he ever did. Yet there was something inside him that longed to be with Sam in the bed. That’s why he would wait until Sam was fast asleep, usually around 3 AM, and Denver would walk carefully on his pads down the hardwood hall; halt at the doorway; and slowly push the door open with his nose. He could smell when Sam was asleep. Very carefully he would slide through the crack in the door, and enter. When he got to the bed he would carefully crawl onto it where Sam’s feet rested. Through experience he had learned never to put his toes to Sam’s feet... not because of the smell, but rather because the moistness of his nose would wake Sam. Once on the bed Denver would take his place next to Sam.

This night was different, as he lay next to Sam, Sam did not put his arm around him. Denver laid quietly with his eyes slowly shifting to Sam to see if he was about to move to embrace him, but nothing happened. It was then the smell began. “What is that smell? I know I’ve smelt it before, but where from?” He got up from his spot, and nudged Sam. Sam didn’t move. Sam smelled funny. Something told him that Sam was not ok. He barked. “Sam!! Sam!! Sam!!” But he didn’t move. He bit Sam on the hand, and licked his face. No reaction. “Sam!!!!! Sam!!!!!!!!! SSSAAAMM!!!!!!!!!!” Now the neighbors in the apartment next store heard him. They beat on the walls and said “Shut that damn dog up!!!” Still Denver barked.

Finally someone was beating on the door to the apartment. “Should I get the door? Should I stay? Sam!!!” He goes to the door, and clinches the handle with his teeth. It opens to Ms. Flynn the landlady.

“Shut up you filthy mutt!! Samuel Crawly!!! Where are you? Shut your damn dog up!!!” She pushes her way past Denver. Denver heads straight to Sam in his bed barking the entire time. She gets to the room. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!!” She races to the phone, Denver still barking. “Yes this is Ms. Flynn on Avon Street. Sam is... not ... I think he’s dead... will someone ... SHUT UP DENVER!!!” She hurls the alarm clock at Denver. She starts to cry as she sees Sam lying there. She’s still talking on the phone. Denver sees this and jumps on the bed. He pulls the cover over Sam’s head so that Ms. Flynn will be ok. He realizes what the smell is. The smell of death, and begins to whimper. He lays down in his spot and begins to cry--Denver cries to sleep.

An Account of a Crime

Dear Jack,

Here is a piece I wrote that is autobiographical. It retells the story of a choir event from high school that ended badly, and has deeply effected me. The retelling, although several years later, is accurate to my accounting with little embellishment.

I like to sing, although I’m not all that good at it. I like to think I have some talent, but really I can’t stand the way I sound. Yet strangely enough Ms. Dean had asked me to be one of the two tenors to represent our school chorus at the district honor’s festival. Even though I was certain I did not sing well, I still had a hint of pride that made me glow with a sort of self-righteous fire of superiority that accompanied me on the trip there. Altogether there were about 20 of us from the choir going; all on a big smelly school bus headed for Decatur. We left school a little after lunch. I sat in the back of the bus with the rest of the guys and altos. I expected this day to be like any other day.

Riding on a bus with a bunch of choir people is a very different experience from riding the bus with non singers. First of all, aside from the lack of the usual fighting and fussing, paper balls and cussing, we sing. I mean we start with Veggie Tale tunes and go as far as six part canons we learned in middle school. Anyone passing would think we’re crazy, and in fact half the people we do pass give us weird looks. The first person to pass us was this guy driving his black mustang without a shirt. Of course the girls noticed him first--he was well built, and self-confident enough to drive through metro Atlanta that way. Kristin, probably the biggest flirt in choir not to mention the most obnoxious and funny, pulled her window down and waved at him.

“Hey hottie! I like your... car.” He winked back of course. “Aw, man... he’s turned left. The next vehicle to pass was a group of guys in a little Mazda...almost following Kristin‘s “hottie”. Thomas, who is sitting in front of me, saw them. Thomas, and I do not usually get a long all the time. He is a trouble maker, and I don’t like how he never takes singing seriously. I take singing very seriously, and am not all that good. He hardly puts any effort and sounds wonderful.

“Talk about some obvious fudge packers.” And with a tactful voice, he screamed it out Kristin’s window, just loud enough for them to hear it.

“What the hell are you doing Thomas?” Kristin, pulled the window up just in time, for as she finished clicking the window into its closed position, it was splashed by hand cream that the Mazda men have squirted on the bus as they passed.

“Told you...who else would have lubricant.” Obnoxious laughs started with him and spread across the bus.

Brian and Adam were sitting behind me. Brian, is a sophomore; a little conceited, and certain that he is cool. He sings tenor with me, and we tend to joke about my weight, and his lack of weight--he is sort of lanky. Adam is a bass. He is also a senior. He and I probably get along the best in our little group.

“Hey do you guys know Red Moon Rising?” Brian, always into the oldies. Of course we did. Thus we joined in bits of words and mumble as the song takes shape, each of us laughing at the innovations we make when we don’t know the words. In that moment of humor and singing, I felt at ease, not worried about the problems in my life, nor the problems in my friends’ lives--just content with life, and oblivious to the future.

Through the course of the day, Thomas, Brian, Adam, and I discussed the possibility of spending the night together.

“Ya’ll can stay at my house--my mom won’t mind,” Thomas.

“Yeah but you live farther away from the school... we’ll have to get up earlier to be there on time,” spouts Brian, always looking for the most sleep he can get.

“Yeah but your mom can be a real... I don’t have to say it... everyone else knows...you are a life like Kyle and your mom fulfills her role.” Adam usually speaks in clauses... but due to his obsession with South Park, he really doesn’t make much sense.

“Regardless, if we stay at Thomas’ house, you can drive us to school and our parents won’t have to deal with it.” This is of course my logical interjection...probably what keeps people thinking I’m a nerd.

We don’t usually hang out that much, so it seemed like a good chance for us to grow closer. My mom and Adam’s mom did not have any hang ups, but Brian’s mother had to be convinced that we would behave. Thomas’ mother liked the idea, and volunteered her house for our sleep over.

Adam drove me and Brian, and Thomas rode with his mother. I was shocked when we got to their house. They were the dirtiest people I had ever seen. They had a leaning tower of dishes at the sink, and a cat clawing at the droplets of water coming out of the faucet. I could feel the filth and fleas in the room. I tried to make the best of things, but then Thomas’ mother lit up a cigarette. I cannot stand the smell of cigarettes, but being a guest, I just smiled, and breathed through my coat lapel. On the little TV was some movie about a guy who is killed because he wants to leave a gang. I don’t find it the most entertaining show, so I sit and stare at the surroundings, thinking of other stuff we could do, like play a game. Then I saw the monopoly board.

We played monopoly until about 11:30. About that time, Thomas’ mother came in and said, “Looks like we’ll have to go to Wal-Mart, Thomas’ dress pants have rip in them.” What a time to go, I thought--at midnight. “I only have a room for one person. Adam, you‘ll have to drive James and Brian.”

We climbed into Adam’s little Honda. Let me describe this Honda. It consists of three seats, a driver’s seat, a passenger’s seat, and a part of the back bench seat for one more passenger. The rest of the seat is covered with books, McDonald’s bags, clothes, shoes, dress clothes, a twelve pack of Dr. Pepper, and a carton of Marlboro Reds. The cigarettes shock me, as I did not know that Adam smoked,

“I didn‘t know you smoked, Adam.”

“Nah man, I don‘t...those are my father‘s...so is all that other stuff. Sometimes he sleeps out here.” Neither Brian or I dared inquire why.

We arrived at Wal-Mart around 12:15. For the time, it is surprisingly busy. Adam, Brian, and I shuffle into the entrance by the garden supplies, while Thomas and his mother head towards the main department store entrance. Adam and Brian, in their usual way which makes me wonder if they are really high-schoolers, drag me to the toy department to look at remote control cars. I try to appease them and act cool by suggesting different cars that they would like to look at. Finally, they decide upon two corvettes. Adam’s is red, and Brian’s is black. I of course would not buy either, and would prefer to go back to Thomas’ and get back to monopoly. They got in line to pay for their toys, and I went to find Thomas and his mother, to tell them that we were heading back so they could play with their new toys in their driveway. As I am walking, I accidentally ran into a kid named Chris Greenwood. I have tried to be nice to this kid before, but for some reason, I am a target of most of his jokes.

“Hey faggot, what are you doing here. This is my territory... I’d watch my back.” He backs me down an aisle. I have no idea what I ever did to him, yet I am faced with the usual Chris--a Chris who has no sense of who I am, or wants to accept the fact that I am not gay, and am not at odds with him. For some reason he does not have a tolerance for me. I am not an odd person, as far as I can see. Yet I try to be hospitable, and courteous.

“Sorry Chris. Didn‘t mean to run into you...gotta go...see you in...class.” I ran very cautiously towards Thomas and his mother, sparing not a second to contemplate why this guy has this hostility towards me. I told them our plans about going back to their house and waiting for them; with only a slight hint of hesitation she agreed; and I headed back to Adam and Brian who were waiting for me on the other side of the check out line.

It was a cold night. When we had entered Wal-Mart I had not realized how cold it was, but now as we left and I could see the orange glow of the street lights illuminate the coming fog, I felt a chill of expectancy, and fear run through my body. We got back to Adam’s car, got in, and waited as he turned the ignition. It wouldn’t start. He tried again.... same response. A Third time... it started.

“We’ll let it warm up before we head out, meanwhile we can get the cars working,” said Adam in his usual authoritative manner. Great. Just what I wanted to do, sit and wait in the cold for them to figure out how to play with child toys. I didn’t say a word about it. I must admit that I could see why they liked the cars, Adam had his car we sat in, and Brian didn’t have a car, thus these toys represented not only the youth in them, but also the desire of the future, to have a car like the ones they were playing with. I sat there pondering this thought, and noticed a scuffle along the wall at Wal-Mart.

“Check this out,” I said, “Looks like someone’s getting beat up.” Three guys were pushing some other guy around. I know he got slammed into the concrete wall, and then they started kicking him. Another guy joined in. I hoped to help the guy being brutalized. Nope. He took a shopping cart and, lifted it over his head, and slammed it down on the guy.

“Shit! He didn’t!” Brian.

“We ought to stop this,” responded Adam. He honks his horn, and flashes the lights. A lot of good that’s going to do. The victim of this beating was able to get up. The four guys still surrounded him, and he too off. He raced towards US. Running, holding his side, letting the blood flow down his face and fall into the wind and mist. One pursued him. As the victim nearly reached our car, he stopped, to catch his breathe. The other caught up with him, they were eight feet in front of the car. He grabbed the victim, and twisted him around. Another scuffle--struggle--attempt to be released. We’re frozen in the action. Then we heard it. The victim fell to the wet black pavement, as a pool of blood slowly spilled out around him. The pursuer, turned showing his profile, and the gun which must have been still smoking, in his hand. Without a care to the world he walked away...back towards the guys from whence he came.

“SHIT! Shitshitshit!” Brian.

“Fuck” Adam.

Nothing. James. I was too shocked to realize what I just saw. “Did we just see.....?”

Awkward silence. “I think so” in stereo from the front.

Adam stepped on the gas pedal. We tore past the body, and raced towards the street. We were getting out of there. I felt good about this, yet at the exact same moment, I wanted to scream out “Stop! We got to help him! We’ve got to!” Yet my cowardice would not allow me to utter such words. I would regret the feeling later. We ran through a red light, and another... I don’t know where Adam was going to stop. A police officer turned on his lights as we ran through another. He pulled us over at a Conaco. We were more than willing to explain what we saw. He took us inside where he spoke with us individually. I really did not remember much about the victim or the pursuer, only that the pursuer was wearing red. I felt horrid. How could I not know what I saw? I was watching the whole thing. Neither Adam or Brian added much more to the description. After taking our statements, he let us go back to Thomas’ house. We had forgotten about Thomas.

We arrived at Thomas’ house around 2 AM. He was still up of course. He and his mother had been in the check-out line when the victim supposedly crawled into the store, holding his jaw to his head, trying to stop the blood from squirting out on people. It was then that Thomas said something that made my soul quiver inside me.

“I’m pretty sure Chris Greenwood did it.”

“He was there? He’s a punk, but I can’t see him doing that” interjects Brian.

“I’m sure we’ll know for sure Monday... if he’s in school or not,” Adam adds.

I did not need to hear this. I did not want to hear this. I did not want to live the rest of the night. Why did I have to witness this? I didn’t even stop to help--that was all I could think of. Surely that’s what Christ would have done.... the good Samaritan. I did NOTHING, and now one I know is accused of doing this. I wish I could see the pursuer’s face so I could reclaim the innocence of Chris. I may not have gotten a long with him, but would not stand to have him be that bad, and I could not stand to think that he hurt someone and I just left them there to bleed to death on the wet pavement.

The next day, really three hours later that same morning, we arrived at Salem High to leave for the rest of the honor’s choir. Thomas’ mother and the four of us explained to Ms. Dean what happened. I, in actuality, did very little talking. She told us to come, and that she would use her cell-phone to notify our parents. We entered the bus, full of the cheerful sounds of the choir, ready to go sing. I sat down on an empty bench, held my head against the seat in front of me, and began to cry. Adam, Brian, and Thomas headed to the back of the bus... to feed the meat of gossip to the she-wolves in the Alto and Soprano section. I could not share in this view of what I had seen. Too much to handle... too much to deal with... I had to sort it out in my mind before I could grasp how to sort it out in words to people who could not share in the full depth of what I was feeling. I wanted answers... I wanted comfort, I wanted closure to the night. Hell, I didn’t even know how to find out if the guy really died or not. Just knowing if the guy was living or dead would have taken some of the burden away.

In my self despair and contemplation, all I could muster to comfort myself was a song I had heard and now sang to myself:

Holy Spirit, come mold me.
Holy Spirit, console me.
Take my heart Lord, and hold me to Your breast.
And sing to me, Your melodies of love.
Sing to me Your melodies of love.
Quiet me in Your holy Love and rejoice over me with singing.
Quiet me in Your holy Love and rejoice over me with singing.
Quiet me.... with Your HOLY Love....and rejoice....... over me.....

I began to cry. I felt something in that song... that prayer for solace that pulled the pent up emotions inside me out. “Quiet me” That is all I wanted.... peace. I must have sang that song several hundred times while contemplating the act of malice I had seen. The act of disregard I showed, and the selfish fear I felt... the self hate that was growing in me. “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani.--My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why have I forsaken you?” I know someone tried to talk to me...I wouldn’t talk back... I was lost in thought.

I didn’t make it through the day completely. Ms. Dean had us meet with her, the chaperons, the youth minister from the host church, and the director of the program. I did not get much from them. I didn’t want anything from them. I didn’t know them... I wanted solace from some unknown source... my Church? God? The victim? Who knows. All I could do was cry. She took us to IHOP and was able to get us to eat...it was there that I noticed Adam, Brian, and Thomas were not taking it as badly as I was. Why was this? What made them able to cope with what we saw, and what we didn’t do? If only I knew their secret. The rest of the day flew past me. The performance happened... that is all I can say. I know I sung in it, but I cannot remember it.

When we arrived back at school, my mother and brother were waiting for me. As I got in the car, my brother, trying to show concern said, “So you saw a guy get his face blown off?”

“Joe!” My mom, knowing I would not appreciate that.

“Yeah, whatever,” I responded, ignoring his ignorance. I wanted to tell them what I felt, I wanted them to pull over and hug me, yet I couldn’t bring myself to tell them. I let it start to brood in me anew. Besides, he was too concerned with his relationship with his girl friend T. J. to really concern himself with listening. I got home, and went to my room where I cried more tears. I tried to call my best friends, but I could not get them to understand my feelings, and did not want to deal with it. The next day was Sunday, and surely I would get some solace at church... surely.

My priest, Father Lin, was busy before mass. I had managed to speak to one of the choir members, and he tried his best to reach out to me with consoling words and gestures. I wish I would not have resisted them... I wanted consolation, yet I did not want someone to just give it to me... I wanted to work it out for myself. Consequently, I cried through the mass in the back of the church. I observed Fr. Lin consecrate the host, and the congregation go to receive the body and blood of Christ, and then I saw myself walking forward. I was moving to the altar, to lay my burdens down, to let this fear and anger and despondent wonder go, and to receive the solace and renewal of Christ’s presence in my life. As I took the host in my tear-soaked hand, the fractured body of one acquainted with grief... a man of sorrow, I felt the weight begin to leave me. “Now the silence... now the joyful celebration.” Out with James... out with the hostility towards myself. Out with the fear that Chris may have done this. Out with the burden of not stopping, of leaving him in the night. Out with so many things... and in with Jesus, in with comfort, understanding, the faith to know I don’t have to know why things happen, or why they are bad. I took the chalice in my hands and drank the precious blood; crossed myself, and with a different form of tear, cried back to the rear of the church.

It didn’t matter if Chris did it, it didn’t matter if the person was dead or living, what mattered was that God was present even in that hour of darkness, and I only now knew it. I found the first steps that led to closure. All it took was one step, and I could deal with the rest of the day, another step... another week.. I would never be able to get over what I saw, yet I could live with it, and know that I need not fear the terrors of the night.

I Too Can Love

Dear Jack,

A poem I wrote once:

Love, some say is for those who are beautiful--
Their bodies lay together in their lover’s arms,
And they hold the passion between their lips,
And their hearts between their hips.

Love, some say is for those who have suffered--
Their tears pour out on their lover’s shoulder,
And they wipe their eyes with their hands,
And their fears are carried on the cuff.

Love, some say is for those who are dreamers--
Their minds mingle in their lover’s soul,
And they dance in the alcove of their lover’s heart,
And their romance lasts but the course of the night.

I too can love, though my dreams lie entwined with my sorrow.
I too can love, though my sorrow grows in self pity over beauty.
I too can love, though my beauty feels only to be in the soul.

I too can love, for in my soul ...
In my soul ... in my soul
My Spirit begins to bud into the beauty that only
Those who dream and suffer can see.

And in this dream of beauty, do I my tears release,
And the love of my heart can escape beyond mere words.
And my lover can rest in my tear-soaked arms, as I do in His

Heiko's Birthday

Dear Jack,

[Transcribed from handwritten journal. Links added for enhancement]

Today Heiko went to get his drivers' license, so I went with Jewe and JP to school. At school, Jewe was helping close down the computer lab, so JP and I were allowed to play computer games. We played "block Out". It is a 3-2 Tetris game. It was fun at first, but got boring quickly. At 11:30 we met Heiko at the front and he drove us home, but he had to go back for a math test, so I went to Jewe's house with JP next door.

[The families lives in a "Hof Complex". I was told that eight families built the complex around 1984 out of wood. Heiko's family and Jewe's family were part of the original eight families. The handwritten journal has a drawing of the complex layout.]

At Jewe's we talked, listened to music, and horsed around. Jewe has a linguistics computer that speaks English...so we tried af ew words and phrases. Around 1pm Jewe's step-mother Monica came home with Gypsy their dog...who had got to the vent to remove a cataract. Gypsy was out cold, and her tongue flopped deadly in the wind.

Monica's aunt came also. She was very nice and was born before the war. They fixed lunch for us of Hot Dogs, and hot potato salad with white asparagus. It was very good. The women went upstairs for a nap, and Jewe went to the bank. JP and I hung out till 3 when Heiko came and got me.

Back at home, Heiko's grandmother and cousins were visiting for Kaffee... a special one for Heiko's birthday. 5l3 made many treats...the best being Apfelstrudel. Hekio's aunts also came and two of his friends... Sabah his ex-girlfriend and Samona... a female friend. With everyone speaking at once, I started to loose interest and concentration.

At 7m Heiko drove to the 13th grade graduation. It was fairly formal with tables and servers. Heiko and I sat with Ute and the other teachers. There we ran into David and he joined me to talk. It was nice to have someone who I could understand. We then had a buffet and finished the commencement ceremonies. I must say I miss the non-smoking sections in the US. We got home around 13:30 am.

Bonn and Köln

Dear Jack,

[Transcribed from handwritten journal. Links added to enhance.]

Today Heiko and Jewe took JP and me to Bonn and Köln. In Bonn we visited a history museum. It was rather un-interesting, but we had fun anyways. We rode a train to Köln from Bonn. In Köln we ate lunch and walked through the Dom. I can hardly believe the height of the Bell Towers. They stab the sky like two steep mountains.

Today was Corpus Christi and so a lot of people were there, and it was decorated. No shops were open... and of course there was no school. After touring the Cathedral, we waited for Jewe's father to pick us up. We talked while we waited. The ride from Köln to Aachen was short for there are no speed limits on the Autobahn.

When we got home Ute made pizza-pasta. It was fairly good. It was like penne pasta with pesto sauce and mozzarella. I read Ute and Heiko the story "Love You Forever". I think they liked it.

Aachen Center

Dear Jack,

[Transcribed from handwritten journal. Links added to enhance].

Today I went to school and from there we (the Americans) walked to a bus stop. We rode a bus to Aachen Center. There we met Frau Martens. She took us on a tour of Aachen Center. The Aachen cathedral or Dom is very pretty and decorated with mosaics. I tasted some sulfur water at the Baths. It stuck horribly, and when I burped, I re-tasted it.

We returned to the square where a market was going on and broke up into groups. Joy and I went with the adults. We ate at the Golden Schwan. I ordered the house pizza. It was really good. Frau Martens fought Mrs. Fulford to let Joy and I walk alone... since we were both adults in Germany. I was shocked when Mrs. F. finally consented. Joy and I went shopping. I bought some books. When we returned to the center of town, it began to storm.

I was yelled at by Mrs. F. for using an umbrella because "it is a lightening rod". I wish she could find a different way of saying things rather than getting pissed and yelling. If she cannot be nice, I fear I will become rebellious.

Later today I went with Ute to the 10th grade graduation. It was not the formalist of things, but there was a lot of heart in it. Frau Martens said on a private time Mr.s F. cannot forbid us to drink and she gave us champagne with orange juice. It was sort of sour, and I drank very little. 1nn1 graduated 10th but she is going on to 11th so she did not get a diploma. From there we went home and I tried to call home, but no one answered.

Over the River and Through the Woods

Dear Jack,

[Transcribed from handwritten journal. Links added for enhancement.]

Today I went to school mit JP und Jewe. Wir haben eine Klasse von Geschichte, eine Klasse von Mathe, und zwei Klassen von Englisch. Um 12 Uhr, Ute und ich haben zu Heikos Großmutters Haus gegangen. There we ate Tomatensalat, Gurkesalat, Pilze, und Schweinfleisch. Es hat mir gut geschmekt. Für nachtisch haven wir Vanillen Eis gehat. His grandmother is very nice.

We ate with his parents, sister, cousins, and aunts. His uncle has a few horses. The stud is at least 6'4" at his shoulders. The mare is 5'8" and the two babies are eye level and chest level. They are all brown.

After dinner we came home, and I took a nap while Heiko mowed the lawn. Later we went to school for a welcome dinner. We ate quiche Lorraine. Heiko did not like it, but I liked it. Heiko, Anna, Joy, Barbara and I hung out together being the elder kids. Heiko is the eldest. We passed a wet ball around to pass the time.

Back at home, H23k4 and I talked about Russia and his trip to Tampa. He is very friendly and speaks exceptional English.

Amsterdam Stop

Dear Jack,

[transcribed from handwritten journal. links have been added for enhancement.]

Our plane landed safely in Luchthaven Schiphol in Amsterdam at 8:30am. We only had to circle it for half of an hour.

From the airport we rode a train to the central station. It wasn't that easy because we had to switch trains (Treinen) twice, for he original track was obstructed. The girls in our group gawked at the Dutch guys and dreamed that they liked them (Middle Schoolers are s funny). In Amsterdam, we walked to the Anne Frank Huis. Heere we waited for a long time in line. The girls left to get some food. The guys had to wait. The guys include David, J.P., Daniel, Robbie, and Thomas (the trouble maker). The worst behaved girl was Heather. When we neared the entrance, the girls showed up and came in with us.

The Anne Frank house looked like it was being renovated. The most striking feature of their hiding place was the seep stairs, although the rest of the building had steep stairs also. I was not really impressed with the exhibit...about as much as I was with Anne Frank's journal. I like Corrie ten Boom better, and I wish I could have gone to Haarlem to see that place instead.

From there we walked to Hard Rock Cafe, or were supposed to do so. Mrs. Fulford really did not know where it was. She said it must have moved. ON the way there, we lost Ms. Hanson, Heather and some girl with a lot f makeup. Mrs. F. went crazy but tried to stay calm. We traced our steps to the square, but did not find them. Due to a loss of time, we went back to the Central Station in the hope that they would get there too at 2pm when our train was to leave.

Mrs. H. and the girls meanwhile had gone to the real Hard Rock and rode a bus-tran to the station. They were a little shook up, but they had gone to Hard Rock. We nearly missed our bus [sic, supposed to be train]. The station had screwed up which line we were supposed to ride, and we racedf rom track to track.

Back at the airport (3pm) the guy s were allowed to get some food. Daniel  Joy, and I went to Burger King. I only had a milk shake (banana).

Our plane was at Gate B6, but we had to ride a small bus to the small plane...with propellers. KLM was the name of the company. I sat in seat 10D by the window below the wing and propeller. We flew fairly close to the ground to Maastricht. It took 30 minutes. I slept. At the airport our families were waiting for us.

Heiko (my exchange brother) is very tall, and his father has a beard. We took JP and Jewe (his exchange brother) home. We rode in a Russian car. The speaker started to catch fire. Luckily it was fixable. Jewe and Heiko live in a communal house. That is there are several houses around a court yard all in the same style and connected.

Heiko had a special engagement to be at at 7. Mrs. Seimen took him. Herr Siemen and I went to Jewe's house for dinner. Jewe's parents are Monica and Gerd. Monica made spaghetti. I was offered bier and champagne since I am over 16, but I turned it down and drank Apfelsaft instead. They have a dog with cataracts named Gypsy. Their house is decorated with a lot of blue. The food was good and 5ll3 (Mr. S.) made pudding. It was not as sweet as I am used to. Afterwords, we went home, and I went to the bathroom.

Departing For Germany

Dear Jack,

[transcribed from handwritten journal. links have been added for enhancement.]

I went to church as usual. I was already packed. During the service we sang the Naval Hymn. The last time I remember hearing that song was in Titanic...and of course the line "perils of the sea" was foreshadowing the end of the ship.In the modern version of this song, it has also perils of the air. I felt... wonderful.

At 2pm Joy and Wanda showed up, so we left for the airport. Wanda was being really protective. We got there around 2:40. No one else showed up until 3pm. We checked in and headed for E3 Gate. Our flight was flight 38 Delta. I switched to air miles to my name. We boarded at 5:05. I sat in seat 38D. Joy sat in 35D, so we switched her to seat 38C. It took a while to get off, but we did so around 5:58. We had a choice of steak or chicken for dinner. I chose the steak. it was surprisingly tender. Joy had chicken and spilled bits of rice on herself. The movies were At First Sight and Message in a Bottle. They were both sappy and boring. Two Dutch/Chinese people sat in front of us. The woman had trouble walking. Behind us sat a Dutch family with a young girl. I sat next to Joy and an American college guy who didn't talk much. We were in the middle. The stewardesses' sleeping seat was next to the college guy, and a short girl with wavy black hair sat on the other side. Joy and I tried to sleep, but neither of us could due to the movies playing.

Great Grandma Flynn's Funeral

Dear Jack,

Mike and I had traveled to Ashtabula for Thanksgiving.  While we were there Great Grandma Flynn passed away.  We stayed for the funeral.

1996 Olympics

Dear Jack,

I have no clue who is taking the picture.  Grandpa Pease had come down for the Olympics, and we all got together.  I attended several baseball games, and also sat at St. Simon's with their hospitality booth.

Kris Got Married

Dear Jack,

The wedding was held in Pennsylvania.  This is a picture of the grandparents and the grandchildren (those what were able to attend of each).  I was an usher.

Three Brothers

Dear Jack,

Here I am with two of my three brothers.  I loved that sweater I was wearing.  It is so ugly now. LOL.

Soccer Star, Fall Edition

Dear Jack,

In Sept the new season began, and I was part of the Raiders.

Soccer Star

Dear Jack,

This is a picture of me when I first started playing Soccer.  I played for the Heat.