1960

That afternoon, the chauffeur in a Mercedes Benz drove us the fifteen or so miles from Gronau to Rheine where we picked up our car. We were taken to the Hartman Hotel..(.Here instead of two sheets, one top and one bottom, there was only one sheet at the bottom, and a down or feather comfort covered with a clean white envelop was on top. You had no choice of adding or subtracting blankets. That method of making a bed didn't change over the years, as the last time I was in Germany in 1987, when we stayed with friends they made up our bed the same way still.

Burt went to see Mr. Kumpers and pick up our car. (Mr. Kumpers had made arrangements for our Volkswagen.) Meanwhile I went out to buy some shoes. After my ten wonderful days of walking miles and miles exploring London while Burt was at meetings, my feet were swollen and I couldn't get into my dress shoes. So I had to find a new pair in a bigger size to wear to the dinner party we were going to that evening.

The Kumpers' chauffeur picked us up about 7:30 along with another couple, Swiss. The woman couldn't speak much English, but her husband, a banker, did quite well in several languages. The dinner party was the sort of thing you see in the movies, but never expect to experience yourself.

Two maids with lace meshed gloves greeted us in the hall and ushered us into the large living room. I met Mrs. Kumpers - Burt had met her before - a very tiny, slender person and very vivacious, more French than German, it seemed like to me. She wore a very Frenchy, but not simple, black sleeveless dress with several strands of pearls. I also met Mr. Kumpers and thanked him for getting the car, and for making us a gift of the sunroof and baggage rack in the Volkswagen, which we hadn't ordered, but which he insisted on giving us. He also insisted on providing for our insurance while we were in Europe through his company and there was a full tank of gas. He said the American cotton industry had been good to him. So it was just a business expense. Of course, Burt had nothing to do with that since he was a scientist and was not directly involved in the commercial end of the cotton industry.

Back to the dinner party--the other couple we met, were American citizens from New York, but he was a long time friend of Mr. Kumpers, an army officer buddy in Germany in World War I. His wife was an Italian by birth and said she spoke seven languages, and at least five were bandied about the table during dinner. The table was a large round one with plenty of room for eight people. I was between the Swiss banker and the German New Yorker, an exporter by business now. He was quite deaf, however, and even with a hearing aid, I sometimes had trouble making him understand me, whether I was speaking German or English. Their name is Herring, and Mrs. Herring, very attractive, too, sat beside Burt, and tried to translate for him the general conversation. We were all very fascinated by the Swiss woman who was very beautiful and very charming, but who still seemed a little sad, I thought.

The conversation was some about Princess Margaret's wedding, (which I had watched on TV a few days earlier in a British home;) about our new Volkswagen, to which they made a toast, and where we were going to travel in Europe. The German talked quite a bit to me about German history, no politics and nothing about cotton. Among other things though, Mr. Herring did mention briefly having met Mr. Kennedy and his charming family, quite young at the time, when he was Ambassador to England, that is, the father of Jack Kennedy.

We were served champagne in a bar room before dinner, and then went into the dining room, which had a built in bird cage with birds. First course was smoked salmon, probably not cooked, just smoked, sliced paper thin. Sauce and a pastry went with it. The two maids with gloves passed everything to me first, and I never knew what to do with it. Mr Herring often helped by serving me, and sometimes the Swiss woman, Mrs. Fuerer, too. We were served white wine with this course. Next we were served a roast which they just called "game". I think it was antelope; parsleyed potatoes again, and I think green beans. We have been entertained so much, I just can't remember what we had or where. A red wine was served with this course. I asked for "nur ein wenig", but I was given more than I could drink, anyway. Dessert was a custard made with champagne or wine instead of milk or water. Anyway, it was very heavily laced with alcohol. It was more like tapioca pudding, than like a true custard, but it was made predominantly from wine and eggs cooked and beaten together.

We were served coffee in the living room, and soon after we suggested going to our hotel room , but it was 11:00 before we got in.

It was a most interesting evening, but not one I'd care to repeat often.