The Hills Are Alive
FROM CAP’N MERYL
“The Hills Are Alive”
http://www.usatoday.com/travel/columnist/getline/2005-01-24-ask-the-captain_x.htm
I’d say this was a very exotic week in my relatively new position as a B-777 captain. I was treated to a flight which went to Europe and beyond for a six day extravaganza. I can tell you it’s always fun and exciting to fly somewhere I haven’t been before.
At one time I flew out of Tehran, Iran for a small commuter (as depicted in my book) but I’ve never flown a commercial jet over such countries asTurkey and Hungary. Every country has their own idiosyncrasies and it’s quite the challenge keeping up with all of them.
On one leg, we were treated to a display of Northern Lights that was very out of character. I’ve seen this type of display only once before, as a matter of fact, and that was, of all things, on a flight between Denver and Washington, DC. Instead of the usual blue-green display, this was a solid red stationary blob which eventually seemed to dissipate. It looked like a heavy darkred stain in the sky and I have no idea what gives it this extraordinary appearance.
Later, we saw a more traditional display with the“zipper effect,” where the Lights start small, then suddenly widen up so they’re very high, then shrink again as though a zipper is opening and closing.
But here’s the really exciting part and the reason for this week’s title, which refers to the Alps in “The Sound of Music.” Those of you who’ve read mybook might remember that early on in the book, in the chapter called “Austria,” I traveled to Europe on my sixteenth birthday and resided with a family by the name of Jordan (pronounced “Yordan”) for a few months during that summer in order to attend school and become proficient in German.
After returning to the United States, we exchanged a letter or two but that was about it. Because this recent trip was a charter, it resulted in a layover in Frankfurt of almost 50 hours instead of the usual 27.
On impulse, I jumped aboard a train to Innsbruck, about a six- hour trip. When I got off, I took a cab to my old address at 5 Schulgasse (SchoolStreet) in Hötting, in the foothills of the Alps just outside beautiful Innsbruck. I explained my situation to the driver and he agreed to wait while I found out if the people I was looking for were still there. He told me he was curious himself after I told him a little bit of my story.
The house had been somewhat redone on the outside and I didn’t recognize it other than for the address. When I knocked on the door a woman I didn’t know answered. I explained that I was an American that had lived in this house 35 years before and was there any way she knew the FamilyJordan.
She bought the house from Frau Jordan and had her current address and phone number. The new address was only a 10 minute cab ride away so off we went!
I have to stop here and tell you that for some reason, there often seems to be a musical backdrop to whatever I’m doing. The Hötting house sits on a steep incline, and across a narrow cobblestone street—so narrow two cars cannot even pass—there is an ancient church. As it happens, there was a funeral in progress with a Tyrolean brass band playing in the yard of the church. The musicians were dressed in traditional Tyrolean Alpine shorts, hats with a feather, the whole nine yards. I would have loved a picture and I did have my camera, but I felt it would be in very poor taste so I didn’t taken one. It was difficult to walk up the steep incline back to the street and I couldn’t immediately see the source of the beautiful but serious-sounding music. The day was gray and bitterly cold and the music fit justright.
In any case, we drove to the new address and the cab driver left as the train station was in walking distance should Frau Jordan prove to not be home. The door to the building was locked and I couldn’t find her name to ring so I walked down the street to a payphone.
Frau Jordan is well into her 80’s but it took only a few words for her to freak out completely that I was there and to come down from her 4th floor apartment and get me. She was now living alone in an impossibly neat apartment as Herr Jordan unfortunately died 12 years ago.
When I handed her my book, she said she couldn’t take a gift. Then I told her I was a pilot, that I was the author of the book and that she and her husband were in it! More freaking out took place. She was stunned as this was the first she’d heard of any of this.
I apologized for not letting her know I was coming, but my charter flight was on short notice, there was no time to write and I had been previously unsuccessful in locating her phone number. She was just fine with that but wouldn’t let me take her picture as she was unprepared and felt she looked bad. I asked repeatedly but she declined, so all I got was a picture of her street which is posted on my Photo Gallery now. I’ve posted a few other new photos as well. (Accessible through my website http://www.fromthecockpit.com/)
Finding her after so many years was emotional for both of us. I stayed a couple of hours then walked back to the train station for the stunning ride back through the Alps. I was very tempted to get off at one of the ski resorts but it was snowing so hard in some places I was a little worried about the train shutting down. Even inMunich, there was a blizzard going on. Staying the night in Innsbruck crossed my mind, but it was bitterly cold there and snowing and I would have had to leave early in the morning. So I caught a 2:30 PM train back which arrived in Frankfurt around 9:30 PM after a few transfers.
After arising at 4:00 AM that morning, having had just three hours of sleep after my last flight, I was definitely ready to hit the sack back at my Frankfurt hotel.
I suspect there are people in all our pasts we just never expect to see again; Frau Jordan was one of those people for me. She still speaks noEnglish but has a 38 year old niece (who was 3 years old when I last met her) who is fluent and who I am sure will read her my book.
An amazing trip I’ll never forget and I hope you’ve enjoyed taking it with me.
If you would like to order a signed copy of my book, my offer stands. Just make out check or money order for $22 to WFS, Inc. and send to:
WFS, Inc.c/o Meryl Getline1253 Santa Fe Trai lElizabeth, CO 80107
Cover price is $17.95 and the rest is for Priority Mail back to you. Specify EXACT name for whom book will be signed.
Until Next Time, Maintain Airspeed!
Cap’n Meryl
“The Hills Are Alive”
http://www.usatoday.com/travel/columnist/getline/2005-01-24-ask-the-captain_x.htm
I’d say this was a very exotic week in my relatively new position as a B-777 captain. I was treated to a flight which went to Europe and beyond for a six day extravaganza. I can tell you it’s always fun and exciting to fly somewhere I haven’t been before.
At one time I flew out of Tehran, Iran for a small commuter (as depicted in my book) but I’ve never flown a commercial jet over such countries asTurkey and Hungary. Every country has their own idiosyncrasies and it’s quite the challenge keeping up with all of them.
On one leg, we were treated to a display of Northern Lights that was very out of character. I’ve seen this type of display only once before, as a matter of fact, and that was, of all things, on a flight between Denver and Washington, DC. Instead of the usual blue-green display, this was a solid red stationary blob which eventually seemed to dissipate. It looked like a heavy darkred stain in the sky and I have no idea what gives it this extraordinary appearance.
Later, we saw a more traditional display with the“zipper effect,” where the Lights start small, then suddenly widen up so they’re very high, then shrink again as though a zipper is opening and closing.
But here’s the really exciting part and the reason for this week’s title, which refers to the Alps in “The Sound of Music.” Those of you who’ve read mybook might remember that early on in the book, in the chapter called “Austria,” I traveled to Europe on my sixteenth birthday and resided with a family by the name of Jordan (pronounced “Yordan”) for a few months during that summer in order to attend school and become proficient in German.
After returning to the United States, we exchanged a letter or two but that was about it. Because this recent trip was a charter, it resulted in a layover in Frankfurt of almost 50 hours instead of the usual 27.
On impulse, I jumped aboard a train to Innsbruck, about a six- hour trip. When I got off, I took a cab to my old address at 5 Schulgasse (SchoolStreet) in Hötting, in the foothills of the Alps just outside beautiful Innsbruck. I explained my situation to the driver and he agreed to wait while I found out if the people I was looking for were still there. He told me he was curious himself after I told him a little bit of my story.
The house had been somewhat redone on the outside and I didn’t recognize it other than for the address. When I knocked on the door a woman I didn’t know answered. I explained that I was an American that had lived in this house 35 years before and was there any way she knew the FamilyJordan.
She bought the house from Frau Jordan and had her current address and phone number. The new address was only a 10 minute cab ride away so off we went!
I have to stop here and tell you that for some reason, there often seems to be a musical backdrop to whatever I’m doing. The Hötting house sits on a steep incline, and across a narrow cobblestone street—so narrow two cars cannot even pass—there is an ancient church. As it happens, there was a funeral in progress with a Tyrolean brass band playing in the yard of the church. The musicians were dressed in traditional Tyrolean Alpine shorts, hats with a feather, the whole nine yards. I would have loved a picture and I did have my camera, but I felt it would be in very poor taste so I didn’t taken one. It was difficult to walk up the steep incline back to the street and I couldn’t immediately see the source of the beautiful but serious-sounding music. The day was gray and bitterly cold and the music fit justright.
In any case, we drove to the new address and the cab driver left as the train station was in walking distance should Frau Jordan prove to not be home. The door to the building was locked and I couldn’t find her name to ring so I walked down the street to a payphone.
Frau Jordan is well into her 80’s but it took only a few words for her to freak out completely that I was there and to come down from her 4th floor apartment and get me. She was now living alone in an impossibly neat apartment as Herr Jordan unfortunately died 12 years ago.
When I handed her my book, she said she couldn’t take a gift. Then I told her I was a pilot, that I was the author of the book and that she and her husband were in it! More freaking out took place. She was stunned as this was the first she’d heard of any of this.
I apologized for not letting her know I was coming, but my charter flight was on short notice, there was no time to write and I had been previously unsuccessful in locating her phone number. She was just fine with that but wouldn’t let me take her picture as she was unprepared and felt she looked bad. I asked repeatedly but she declined, so all I got was a picture of her street which is posted on my Photo Gallery now. I’ve posted a few other new photos as well. (Accessible through my website http://www.fromthecockpit.com/)
Finding her after so many years was emotional for both of us. I stayed a couple of hours then walked back to the train station for the stunning ride back through the Alps. I was very tempted to get off at one of the ski resorts but it was snowing so hard in some places I was a little worried about the train shutting down. Even inMunich, there was a blizzard going on. Staying the night in Innsbruck crossed my mind, but it was bitterly cold there and snowing and I would have had to leave early in the morning. So I caught a 2:30 PM train back which arrived in Frankfurt around 9:30 PM after a few transfers.
After arising at 4:00 AM that morning, having had just three hours of sleep after my last flight, I was definitely ready to hit the sack back at my Frankfurt hotel.
I suspect there are people in all our pasts we just never expect to see again; Frau Jordan was one of those people for me. She still speaks noEnglish but has a 38 year old niece (who was 3 years old when I last met her) who is fluent and who I am sure will read her my book.
An amazing trip I’ll never forget and I hope you’ve enjoyed taking it with me.
If you would like to order a signed copy of my book, my offer stands. Just make out check or money order for $22 to WFS, Inc. and send to:
WFS, Inc.c/o Meryl Getline1253 Santa Fe Trai lElizabeth, CO 80107
Cover price is $17.95 and the rest is for Priority Mail back to you. Specify EXACT name for whom book will be signed.
Until Next Time, Maintain Airspeed!
Cap’n Meryl
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