YOUNG MAN, OLD WORLD
12-year-old loved vehicles he saw in 1950s Europe
Early adolescence is a difficult time for everyone, whether they admit it or not. I should know. Mine lasted about 30 years. There’s the tension between being dependent on your parents and wanting to be independent. There’s the awkwardness of trying to connect with a potential romantic partner and not having the words or experience to pull it off. And there’s the constant temptation to show your peers that you’re strong, smart, decisive and courageous, but without having the experience to back any of it up.
In my case, as a boy growing up in Pittsburgh, all of that was made more complicated by being in Europe — mostly Germany — when I was 12 and 13. My father, who at the time was a research physicist at Westinghouse in Churchill, had volunteered for an exchange program of technical personnel with Siemens of Bavaria, and he took my mom, my sister and me along with him.
It was 1957, and although there were other Americans sightseeing in various European locations, the surge of tourists that travelers find today had not yet materialized. As a result, many of the most popular attractions were easy to access.
Beyond that, World War II had ended just 12 years earlier. Although the rubble of ruined buildings had long since been cleared up, the rows of structures lining the streets frequently included gaps, a bit like missing teeth, where bombed-out buildings had once stood. And at least some of the other Americans we saw there were soldiers stationed at various bases as part of a post-war military occupation army transitioning into a NATO force.
For several years before our trip, I had been a paperboy for the Post-Gazette, delivering the early evening “bulldog” edition to my neighbors. It was a small route, but over time I was able to accumulate enough money to buy a bicycle and a 35mm camera once we arrived in Germany.
My dad was proud of the industriousness I had displayed in earning that money, and he told some of his new German colleagues about it. They were horrified. In Germany, they told him, selling and delivering newspapers was a job for a man, not for a child. It was a topic we quickly learned to remain silent about.
The small hotel where we stayed for most of our trip was managed by a widow — one of many women whose husbands had been lost during the war. It was maintained by a small staff which included a 16-yearold chambermaid whom I thought was very attractive. But, at age 12, I didn’t know the right moves, so I couldn’t do anything to advance my intrigue. In retrospect, I’d like to thinkI might have done better.
When he wasn’t at work with Siemens, Dad would take us in our newly purchased Volkswagen to sites in Italy, France, Switzerland, Holland and England, as well as Bavaria.
Before Germany became the unified country we think of today, Bavaria was one of many Germanic principalities, each with its own royal family. I particularly remember seeing the three palaces built by the mad King Ludwig II, whose 19th-century reign was marked by extravagant self-indulgence. The architect for one of them, the fairytale Neuschwanstein Castle in the Alpine region of southern Germany, had been the designer of operatic scenery. And it is still a world-famous monument to personal excess. I’m glad I brought my camera.
However, that’s not what I mostly took pictures of. Of course, I did appreciate seeing the famous landmarks, at least up to a point. But what I found really fascinating were the cars, trucks, mopeds and other motorized vehicles I saw there. They were so different from what I was used to at home that I felt obligated to document them. And it’s a good thing I did because, while the castles and cathedrals and monuments that tourists flock to are still there, the strange vehicles I saw are no longer around. Instead, they are preserved in my photos.
Since that time, I have had the opportunity to go back to Europe, both for work and for leisure. I still enjoy the ambiance, but in many respects, the streets of Europe and the streets of America have become jarringly similar. City architecture is comparable. Motor vehicles are essentially identical. And many of the businesses are the same ones you find here. You can get a Big Mac almost anywhere. And English has become a nearly universal second language among Europeans of every age.
Looking back, I’m glad I had the privilege of visiting Europe as a boy when it was still part of the Old World. Nevertheless, I’m even happier to be able to visit it today as an adult instead of as an adolescent.