07-11-2025, 03:42 PM
Part 1
It's Saturday, January 11, 2003.
“Hello, Flo? I'm back. Flo" Floho, where are you?”
Nothing.
It's strange; he should have been home by now. “Florian?”
No answer.
I peeled myself out of my armor. After all, it's freezing outside and I hate winter.
After I took off my thick boots, I went to the kitchen.
Actually a kitchen-living room.
It's an old building and back then the kitchen was probably the main living space.
That's how it stayed with us.
Where is Flo?
I started to prepare dinner.
Let's see what else we have, so there is some cheese and?
"dringggg"
Who is that Flo has a key and so does Gabi, right
I opened the door and there were two men in police uniforms
Good evening, are you Mr. Timo Arno Larson??
Er, yes, I think so, but I, uh, I haven't done anything!
May we come in for a moment
May I ask what this is about
Does a Mr. Florian Heinrich live here
I felt queasy in my stomach not to mention that my knees were also getting weak.
Please come in.
I must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground, huddled up, with one of the policemen holding me.
“Hello, Mr. Larson? Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, I'm back.”
“Mr. Larson, can you tell us how we can reach the parents or other relatives of Mr. Heinrich?”
“Excuse me?”
Can you tell us how we can reach Mr. Heinrich's relatives?
Why? What's going on?
Mr. Heinrich had an accident and is?
WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM? I interrupted and screamed.
The policeman who had taken me in his arms hugged me a little and asked very gently, “Are you a couple?”
“Yes?“ I blurted out shyly and quietly, with tears welling up in my eyes.
He held me even tighter.
“Hey, it's okay, little one, I understand.”
“Florian was in an accident. The rescue helicopter took him to the UKE.” (Note from the author: UKE = University Hospital Eppendorf in Hamburg)
What? What happened? And how is he?
Some drunk idiot apparently didn't see the red light at the subway station. He hit Florian. We don't know how he is either. We're only supposed to inform his parents.
I blacked out again briefly.
Mr. Larson?
Okay, I'm back.
Can I visit Flo?
Mr. Larson, as I said, we don't know anything about Mr. Heinrich yet.
Can you give us the address of his parents?
Florian and I are orphans. Until four years ago, we lived in the Pezzalozidorf in Hoisb?ttel.
The children's home?
Yes, we both haven't had parents since we were little.
Can we do anything for you?
Would you please drive me to the hospital?
The colleague talked about something on his radio.
Unfortunately, that's not possible yet. Mr. Heinrich, I mean, Florian is still in surgery.
Do you have a family doctor that we can contact?
Uh, yes, he lives two floors above us.
12.01.2003
It was still dark.
I felt completely empty.
I was still a little dazed.
The drug that Dr. Hackenberg had given me was still having an effect.
Florian?
As if stung by an adder, I tried to jump out of bed – and of course landed on my nose.
Slowly, I managed to get into the shower in the bathroom.
There was no time for breakfast.
Thirty-five minutes later, I was at the UKE registration desk.
“Where is Mr. Florian Heinrich, please?”
“Are you a relative?”
“No, his best friend.”
“Then unfortunately you are not allowed to visit him,” I was told mercilessly by the lady.
This can't be true.
How about the cop from last night, who was so nice?
Sorry, Larson's my name, can you tell me which of your colleagues were with me last night regarding the traffic accident involving Florian Heinrich?
Yes, dear readers, I know that cell phones are not allowed in the hospital, but I really wasn't thinking about that at the moment.
May I ask why?
Yes? I need help?
Now, just take it easy, Mr. Larson. It was Chief Inspector Petersen and Chief Inspector Friedrich.
Can you connect me with them?
No, unfortunately not yet.
They are not yet on duty. But I can leave a message.
How can we reach you?
01xx-123 45 67!
All right, Mr. Larson, we'll be in touch. Do you need any help?
No, I think I'm fine.
I hung up the phone and started to cry. Who can understand me? How can anyone help me?
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Say, it's none of my business, but if you keep crying like this, there was the biggest flood in Hamburg since 1962.
What a jerk. Hey, can't you leave me alone!?
I looked into the face of a young nurse.
Hey, stay cool man! I mean it well!?
I felt like crap.
I snapped at someone who just wanted to be friendly.
Sorry, I didn't mean it, but? sobbing?
What's your name? I'm Thobias?
Timo?
Hello Timo, what's your problem man?
I would like to visit my friend, who has been in intensive care here since yesterday. But they only want relatives to see him. But he only has me...
Are you partners?
Big eyes looked at me.
“Yes?” I replied quietly.
Well, then let's see what can be done, he grinned and gestured for me to follow him.
He had quickly found his way around the intensive care unit.
But there was no patient named Florian Heinrich here. Not anymore!
Try pathology.
It was my third blackout in a very short time.
Just to be clear, I'm really not a wimp, but this was definitely too much.
01/17/2003
Gabi was just with me.
She is my best friend.
Not to be misunderstood, she is my friend, not my girlfriend.
She helped me prepare everything for the memorial service that wasn't already taken care of by the funeral home.
If I didn't have her,
she's a sweetheart and has always been there for me in the last few days.
Actually, not just in the last few days. We've known each other since we were kids.
Two more hours, then it was time.
The memorial service took place in the small church in Hamburg-Bergstedt, followed by the funeral on the other side of the street.
Florian? Why you?
Who will ever give me the answer to that?
Friday, 02/14/2003 02:10
The departure in Hamburg was on time, as usual for Lufthansa Cargo. There were no traffic jams in the sky at this time of day. However, the flight lasted a full 9 hours.
As feared (hoped), I was the girl Friday on board and the crew visibly enjoyed my service. Coffee, sandwiches?
I always enjoy pampering other people. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I get along so well with everyone.
The reaction?
When I need something, or ask my colleagues for the impossible, it's always provided. They're really great colleagues!
*
That reminds me, I haven't introduced myself yet.
My name is Timo.
But my friends call me Tim or Timmy.
I'm 22 years old, have dark brown hair and eyes, am 1.82 tall and slim (easily red).
OK, I admit that I had put on a few pounds in the last few weeks. It was probably because I hadn't done any sport for a while. I now weigh a whopping 76 kilos. But I hoped to get back to my old weight on vacation and leave the winter fat behind.
Vacation? Yes, I really needed that.
Gabi had convinced me that maybe I could gain some distance from Florian's death that way.
I'm an air transport dispatcher by profession.
You don't know it? Right?
Just imagine a freight forwarder who organizes worldwide air transport for cargo.
I trained at Lufthansa and stayed there.
And now for something personal: I don't know my parents. I was just two years old when they died in a car accident, together with my older sister.
I grew up in a home on the northern outskirts of Hamburg, together with Gabi and Florian, who were also orphans.
We became the best of friends. I can't remember when it was, but at some point Florian and I realized that there was something more between us.
You know?
When we started our vocational training, we moved into our own apartment, thanks to support from the youth welfare office.
Initially furnished with second-hand furniture, but that didn't really matter to us.
The only important thing was to be with Flo?
Lufthansa employees are allowed to fly for free once a year.
It's called the “line experience flight” here.
The idea is actually to gain experience of the problems that air crews have to deal with at exotic airports abroad.
But it's also a way to fly cheaply on vacation?
*
The other co-pilot? Well, I'd rather not say. I'm not one to gossip.
It was just after 5:00 a.m. (local time) when we reached the parking position in front of the cargo terminal in Atlanta, Georgia. In the dark, I could only make out the dimensions of the huge airport vaguely. In comparison, Hamburg seemed more like a small airfield.
My fellow passenger just said “Bye” and disappeared. I accompanied the crew to the airport hotel and was promptly invited to breakfast (of course on the company's expenses – shush, please don't tell anyone!).
After that, though, I had to see to it that I got to the departure terminal.
In the hall, I saw my flight posted:
ASA Flt 4681 Dep. 9:55A Gate 32
Great, everything seems to be working out. Another early departure, a stopover in Albany, GA and a connecting flight to Dothan, AL.
What I couldn't understand: This crew had the door to the cockpit open!?! (This is the way America executes flight safety) hmm?
11:02 a.m. landing in Dothan, Alabama.
As I got off the plane, I immediately sensed where I was. There was an extreme humidity. Relative humidity around 95%!
It was very hazy and cloudy, but you could see the sun through a thin altostratus cloud cover.
The temperature was actually pleasant, but combined with this humidity, it was quite difficult to get used to. Before landing, the pilot said “70? F? So a bit over 20? C.
So, now quickly into the check-in/reception building.
It was brand new. They had torn down the old one. Everything was well organized and I had quickly found my luggage when Bob and Don came up to me.
We had met four years ago at the Oktoberfest in Munich, by the way.
Since then, we had visited each other every year, taking turns.
Snow-white teeth beamed at me from two almost black faces. Don was wearing a uniform, which indicated to me that he would probably have to go to work soon (he is a flight instructor at Eglin Air Force Base).
A stormy embrace almost squeezed all the air out of my lungs. Well, that's just how they are, the boys. It took a lot of effort to free myself from his grip. Don't they know what a delicate twen I am :-)?
No offense. On the way to the parking lot, Don actually said goodbye and sped off in his Toyota Pickup.
Bob directed me to his, now at least 25 years old Lincoln. That this huge box still ran?
We had barely set off when I asked him to turn on the air conditioning.
So what did the big baby do? He wound down the window and grinned from ear to ear. And then this crazy Southern drawl. Man, I had missed it in the thousands of e-mails.
I asked Bob how much gas the car uses (8-cylinder engine with 6 liters of displacement). ?? average milage is almost nine and a halve? ? oh shit, what was that again? gr?bel? that must be about 25 liters per hundred kilometers?? Madness.
I must have fallen asleep sometime after De Funiak Springs. But somehow the terrible sound from the medium wave radio was still in my ear.
It was done. We had arrived at a trailer park in Destin, Florida, where my hosts call an oversized trailer their own.
Bob quickly helped me with my luggage. I just quickly checked the time. I had already set it back to Central Time shortly after departure. It now showed just after two. So it must be past 9 p.m. in Germany. I had been on my feet for over 24 hours.
No wonder I was starting to feel the effects. It had been a busy day, and yet it was only noon. I couldn't go on.
Bob woke me up after two hours and said it would be better to start participating in life again, otherwise I wouldn't be able to sleep at night (bad Bob, but you're right).
So what's on the agenda? How about food? Good Bob, two huge steaks sizzled on the grill in front of the trailer, along with two corn cobs. Well then, let's get to it.
Since Bob still had a lot to do, I visited the beach. Wonderful? It was barely over twenty degrees, no people to be seen far and wide (who goes swimming in the winter anyway? Besides, Destin is not a tourist region), but the water of the Gulf was pretty warm (I estimate 25?). So, let's get into the fun.
Ahhh, that felt good.
While snorkeling in the crystal clear water, I saw a few shiny silver fish no longer than a finger and while digging in the white sand, I found a few sand dollars. I think they are related to the better known starfish, only almost circular and without arms.
After about an hour, I had enough and headed into town.
The last time I was here, it was still more of a large fishing village.
In no time at all, I had found the old bistro (or rather fish restaurant) again.
I wasn't hungry, but a refreshment would be nice.
As soon as I entered, a tree-like slave descendant wanted to crush me again.
Damn, how did he say his name? (Not yet 23 and already Alzheimer's?)? “Hi Mike, nice to meet you. How are you doing?”
“Hey Timboy, back from Germany to become a real man? Are you already 21 to stay for a beer with me?”
“I guess a Dr. Pepper will do, Mike?” I finally managed to say. And so on.
Great!
They hadn't forgotten me, but nobody asked?
Did Bob and Don perhaps warn you? Seems so. Maybe that's a good thing.
We talked about God and the world. Well, less about the former.
Sometimes, however, I had to paraphrase quite a bit. Somehow I was missing a few words from time to time. Well, that should probably be over soon.
At least I had to look up some words later.
It was just 7:00 PM when I returned to the trailer. I quickly put the last things from the suitcase into the closet and then took a shower.
Now I was a human again. Outside, the daily spectacle of a beautiful sunset began. Next to the grill on a stump, a pelican was cleaning its feathers.
Since I was still alone, I quickly started writing in my diary.
Shortly thereafter, both cars arrived and Bob called me to help unload.
A cozy evening followed, with a few sandwiches, a few stories from the air force base and plans for tomorrow.
I woke up again when Don was just lifting me up to take me to bed. The broad grin was back on his face.
I let him have his way and was dumped like a toddler on my king-size bed.
Man, what a day. What friends.
Good night, you princes!
Saturday 02/15/2003
A new day, a new luck. But somehow I was quite exhausted.
I think the time difference was still making itself felt.
So first of all Don gave me his cell phone. He doesn't need it that often and I could certainly make good use of it if I broke down somewhere.
I had left my own (D1) at home. It wouldn't have worked here anyway.
Breakfast.
Luckily someone remembered that I don't like porridge or peanut butter.
So a small steak on toast with a fried egg on top.
Yup, that'll make Timo big and strong. But the coffee? Oh dear, I knew there was a catch, didn't I?
(I'll get a gallon of milk at the supermarket later. Fortunately, they're open 24/7 here.)
But a good guest doesn't show his annoyance, of course.
I had problems with the battery of my notebook. I'll see if I can find a power supply somewhere. I wanted to go to Pensacola today anyway.
Don took me there.
He also wanted to organize a rental car for me? I already had a hunch what that meant?
?
Boaa eh, really crazy. I had a car for $ 10 a day from a peanut farmer at the air force base and from a pawn shop in Pensacola, a power supply for 110 volts for my notebook.
Now the battery was charging again. The original power supply should actually switch automatically, but obviously it didn't. Hopefully it didn't get a crack?
So, now the vacation could begin, and I was not dependent on the constant help (driving) of Bob and Don. The car was an old car, dented to the max, but it ran (is there no MOT here?).
I had also bought food for dinner. Let's see if I can still manage that. My hosts had taught me the recipe back then and I had gradually modified it at home.
It was to be a JAMBALAYA. I believe it is originally Creole. A rice pan with chicken legs, a lobster tail, plantains, raisins, corn, sugar snap pea pods, cayenne pepper, thyme and saffron.
I couldn't afford saffron, so I bought turmeric.
In Germany, inspired by Flo, I brought something in the direction of a Spanish paella by adding fresh red and green bell peppers, smoked bell pepper salami, and garlic.
Here, smoked bacon had to do (it was hard enough to find that. Everyone here seems to only eat beef).
Garlic? No problem, the boys didn't have to work tomorrow.
Wow, I hadn't received such high praise for my cooking in a long time. And they both really know their stuff.
In their excitement, they tickled me so hard that I almost couldn't breathe.
But then they obediently let me dictate the new recipe. It was really delicious.
On the other hand, they can grill steaks a hundred times better. I always have trouble finding the right doneness, between “rare” and “medium rare” – that's how I like it best.
It must be hard for you, too, since you always eat it “well done”.
But they just press the meat with their finger and know. Maybe I will learn that one day too?
While the two big guys were enjoying a beer or three on the patio, I quickly wrote in my diary. The sunset was picturesque after the heavy thunderstorm earlier, with a pelican.
So, now back to the guys and let the evening fade away.
Sunday, February 16, 2003
The day started out awkwardly. I woke up around 10:00 a.m. and was alone???
Oh shit. I had forgotten. It was Sunday and my friends are obedient Baptists and of course in church. I'm not that religious, but I liked going with them often because of the empathetic gospel songs. Well, I'll still be here for a few days.
I quickly wrote a note that I was going jogging and they shouldn't wait for me for dinner.
I realized that I hadn't done anything in a long time. I was only gone an hour. Otherwise, I usually run two for training. But maybe it's also because of the high humidity.
As soon as I got back, they sent me to the shower and then wanted to go deep-sea fishing with me. Great idea.
On the way to the harbor, the cool box was loaded with drinks and ice cubes and a chicken sandwich from Hardy's (local burger chain a?la McDonald's) was stuffed in. Yes, yes, junk food?
In the harbor we had to wait half an hour, when a friend of my hosts showed up with his two sons.
Didn't know all three yet, but surely soon.
We headed for a cool ocean-going yacht. Although a bit old and no longer snow-white, but still.
Cast off and full speed ahead. Awesome, and it had stopped raining.
However, there was a good wind. I didn't need a jacket, but I had put on a thick hooded sweater as a precaution.
After just 30 minutes, a device responded with bright beeps. Chris (the skipper) pulled the throttle to zero. “Here we are,” he said, spitting his chewing tobacco overboard. So it started.
Hmmm, I've never been fishing on the high seas before, and certainly not with such huge rods.
Philipp, the older of the two boys, apparently understood my expression immediately, grinned, and took care of me.
There it was again. The uncomplicated, tolerant nature of Americans. I was happy to take direction from him; he had a somehow likeable, really pleasant charisma.
I attentively let myself be briefed: he attached a piece of squid to my hook and explained to me that I should now simply winch it overboard slowly until I notice that it has reached the bottom and then catch up about one to two feet at a time. And then just wait.
A few more explanations followed about the winch's mechanics, which seemed complicated at first, but I think I got it.
While the two brothers were still setting up their rods, I noticed a certain activity on mine. I waited almost another minute or two before I yanked the rod up with a strong tug.
Bingo, there was something on it. I gently set the winch in motion and wound foot by foot the thick tendon. The more I cranked, the more resistance my prisoner offered me.
Meanwhile, I attracted the attention of my companions and I received all sorts of conflicting advice.
All anglers are like that, I guess.
I'm not sure, but the “fight” lasted about 5 minutes before I pulled a wildly wriggling fish on board.
Philipp spontaneously jumped in, pulled out his huge hunting knife and gave the fish a strong blow to the head. He called me over and asked for the small pliers that were in his tackle box.
He showed me how to remove the hook from the fish's mouth without hurting myself.
What had I caught? It was a red snapper of almost four pounds. It looks quite similar to our redfish, but has a slightly larger head, which takes up a good third of the whole fish, and huge eyes. Not to forget: razor-sharp teeth.
I was so proud of myself that I only just heard Chris's loud call from the background: “Dams luck!”? I guess it means something like “luck is with the stupid” or maybe “beginners luck”. However, one look at his beaming face told me what he meant and I understood the joke.
The fish was quickly scaled, gutted and stowed in a box of ice.
I was proud of myself for trying to show my young teacher what he had taught me. I also received appreciative looks. Only Nick, his younger brother, giggled occasionally, but that didn't bother me.
But nothing happened for a while. We all reeled in our lines and continued out about 10 minutes more until we heard the beeper again.
On we went, “Good fishing!”
Same procedure as last time?
This time it was Don and Nick almost simultaneously. They both caught a red snapper each. They weren't quite as big, but they were big enough to be caught.
They also weighed at least three pounds each!
Then low tide again. Bob and Don retreated to the cabin to crack open a beer when we drove a bit more.
And again, same procedure?
But nothing really happened. I had the feeling that someone was nibbling on my fresh bait, but there was no real pull.
I also thought I saw a higher level of attention from Nick, but he too was just relaxing when Philipp started shouting loudly.
Now my language skills were hopelessly overwhelmed for a moment.
Nick pushed me very roughly aside and Chris maneuvered his oldest to the fishing seat at the stern of the boat, where he then immediately secured the fishing rod with two snap hooks.
In the meantime, my teacher had only ever let the winch run.
Now there was a little calm in the boat again and Nick smiled at me with a “sorry, my friend, just starting a big deal” on his lips.
Hmm, what should happen now?
In the meantime, Big Daddy had strapped his son into the fishing chair and Philipp began to reel in the winch very gradually.
Judging by the expression on Philipp's face, it was no easy task.
In spurts, his fish offered such resistance that I feared the rod would break.
Nick came to me and politely asked me to help him reel in the other rods so that the lines wouldn't get tangled. It was kind of funny to be told what to do by a little boy, but that thought didn't occur to me until later in the diary. Little boy was probably also not entirely true, I estimate him to be around 16 years old.
I had followed his instructions on the spot, because it was a logical necessity!
When we had hauled in all the lines, we heard cries of enthusiasm from aft and the word “Swordfish”.
Nick and I turned around and could just see something big and gray falling back into the Gulf of Mexico.
Chris now took a thick Havana cigar out of his vest and said to me, “Okay, sunny, it's your turn.” He grinned and lit his cigar.
While Philipp broke out in a sweat, Don and Bob got another beer and brought Nick and me a Coke, but we didn't have time to be thirsty now.
We were both rooting for Philipp.
Nick smiled and explained, “It's his first one.” I thought I could understand what was going on in Philipp's mind.
My red snapper two hours ago was also my first. But that one was easy. Nick pulled me by the sleeve and we were now standing directly behind Philipp.
I couldn't help but put both hands on Philipp's shoulders and gave him a firm squeeze. He just looked around briefly and I saw a sparkle in his eyes.
By now, the fish was only about 30 meters behind the boat when his dad went topside and started the engine at a slow speed. I was a little annoyed and Nick recognized the uncomprehending expression on my face.
I quickly learned that the fish could only be caught when it was exhausted.
For a moment I was reminded of Ernest Hemingway and the novel 'The Old Man and the Sea'.
I thanked Nick, who smiled enthusiastically, and continued to follow the action.
In the meantime, I had opened my Coke and handed it to Philipp, who gratefully took a big gulp and then continued to concentrate on HIS fish.
Finally, Bob and Don came to the stern with two long peek hooks.
The fish had given up.
Philipp now cranked as hard as he could and the fish came to the surface at the stern. It took at least another 10 minutes before we had him on board and then, with a single stab from Philipp with a knife, took his life completely.
It was a swordfish of almost two meters in length. Philipp looked first at his father and then at me as if to ask, “Well, how was I?”
As thrilled as I was, my face could only reply, ‘Great?’ and I patted him on the shoulder with the words, ‘Hey, this is what I call fishing?’ His dad said, ”It's my son?”
That was enough for today and Chris steered the boat back north. I tried to help Philipp gut the swordfish and realized the pride with which he had done it. Nick, meanwhile, started to 'clear the ship'.
Only now did I realize that Don and Bob were trying to finish the beer supply in the cabin again. I guess it's better if I drive the pickup truck later?
We successfully made it back to the small harbor in Choctawhatchee Bay after riding out another typical thunderstorm. It was quite late. Philipp's adventure had lasted more than two hours.
But before we parted, Philipp gave me a note with an address and phone number and the wish that I should call if I didn't know what to do with my vacation and that he would like to meet me again tomorrow?
You can take it for granted, I gushed enthusiastically.
Off home. In our cool box were two red snapper. So it was clear what I was celebrating in the kitchen that evening.
For my good friends, I steamed the fish in plenty of lemon juice. You don't need much more if the fish is really fresh, maybe some toasted bread with it?
But it was way too much? a lot was left over.
A really great Sunday drew to a close with the usual sunset.
Where is the pelican?
Had I found a new friend for the time here? Philipp might be about my age. So I would have found someone who understands me better. Admittedly, Bob and Don are also very nice, but they are almost 10 years older.
It would be really great to experience further adventures with Philipp. No travel company would offer something like that.
Good night, you princes, I love you all!
And now I dream of this eventful day?
Monday 17.02.2003, Washington's Birthday
I slept quite late (for me) and was quite surprised not to be alone.
Oh, national holiday (actually Presidents' Day, but everyone just talks about Washington's Birthday).
Somehow I hadn't really realized that yesterday. Now it's clear why Philipp promised another meeting for today yesterday.
While my friends were spreading the obligatory peanut butter on bread, I made myself scrambled eggs on toast and a hot chocolate and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice.
Well strengthened, I asked about the plans for the day. Don and Bob had not really planned anything important. Don hinted, however, that he wanted to check on his pickup.
It was still wet outside, so it must have rained during the night, and it was damn cold for Florida. It was now 47°F, but Bob said it had been just 40°F earlier.
Where's my ski suit?
So I picked up the phone and called Philipp. He picked up immediately and seemed really happy to hear from me. A meeting point was quickly agreed and he asked if I knew how to skateboard.
Hey, awesome, but where would I get a board here? The problem was quickly solved. Philipp said that Nick would lend me his if he was allowed to come with inline skates.
Of course he was allowed to. We met behind a miniature golf course where a halfpipe had been set up. On the way there, I noticed that the Stars and Stripes were flying in front of almost every house.
They really are all little patriots (or just full of national pride).
First of all, I thanked Nick for his board. After all, at home it is an unwritten law never to lend your board?
By noon we had romped around until we were hungry and then we went to my favorite snack bar.
Ah, wonderful? and heated. It's still pretty fresh, but definitely more pleasant than in frosty Germany.
We walked barefoot through the warm water at the beach and I told the boys about the typical German bad habit of building sandcastles on the beach. I don't think they really understood it.
When I arrived at Philipp and Nick's house, I was invited for coffee (brrr).
It is tradition on this holiday to eat a cherry pie.
I always thought that people in this country enjoy pies warm as a dessert in the evening.
I quickly learned that they are originally of German descent and have retained the habit of drinking coffee in the afternoon on Sundays and holidays. Well, it even tasted like coffee.
When I was invited to dinner, I thought it better to call Bob briefly, should anyone be worried about me.
Gradually, the living room was transformed into a party room. Towards sunset, the place was really packed.
A neighboring family arrived and it could really start. It was strange.
I was a guest in the home of people I'd hardly met, some of whom I'd only met yesterday, and they treated me as if I'd always been one of the family.
It was really great fun for me. All kinds of party games were tried out. I had the most fun when a load of apples was dropped into a medium-sized baby bathtub. Now it was up to all the players to fish out as many as possible at the same time. However, one's hands were tied with a scarf on the back.
The only fishing gear available were the teeth. I almost won and was soaking wet, but when counting it turned out that Nick was even more skilled. He had one more apple.
The two girls of the neighbors, however, failed miserably. Their long hair kept falling into their faces and they couldn't get rid of it? hehe.
We quickly dried ourselves and I got a fresh smurf (hoodie) from Philipp.
A myriad of steaks were now sizzling on the grill – swordfish steaks! Hmm, I've never eaten those before.
They don't look any different than shark or tuna steaks.
After adding plenty of coarse pepper, they were served. In addition, salads of all kinds were available at the buffet.
I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised. I had once fried tuna steaks in Germany, but they were quite dry and firm. Now, however, I bit into very juicy, tender meat that didn't taste anything like fish. Compliments. It tasted great.
It was a shame, but eventually it was time for me to go home. I was offered the chance to stay overnight, but I didn't want to put too much of a strain on the hospitality of my new friends. Besides, I didn't have anything with me.
Philipp was more than willing to help me out with everything, but something inside me resisted
(why actually? Maybe I'm just not ready yet? Hey Timo, life is going on!).
I could see a certain disappointment in his eyes when we said goodbye.
On the way I ran, far in the north a thunderstorm was brewing again, but here the moon was still shining and it was quite cold again.
I think I really found a new friend in Philipp. He is a very nice guy. He is a very good listener, is super athletic? and? Did I already tell you how great he looks?
Most importantly, he seems to have a certain sympathy for me.
I was sure we would have a lot of fun together. Hopefully he wasn't upset that I didn't want to stay overnight.
It was already dark in the trailer, so I tiptoed to bed.
Why did I sweat so much the first night?
Now I could really use my down comforter from home.
I wrote in my diary and listened to the crickets for quite a while.
My thoughts kept returning to Philipp, because he was also damn good-looking? or had I already mentioned that? ?
Oops, he still had his sweater on?
Tuesday 02/18/2003
Dear readers, in the further course of the story, I will take the trouble to try to translate the literal speeches into German *fg*.
So, now I have everything ready and we are ready to go.
This morning I was still with Philipp, or more precisely with his mom.
I had returned the sweater and got mine back.
Over a coffee, a very interesting conversation developed with her.
She said that Philipp had been really cheerful for the first time in a long time since Sunday, and compared to before, he was almost over the top.
He had been said to have been rather listless, introverted and withdrawn for quite some time before that?
I had a very strong suspicion here now. But I didn't tell her. It could also be that I was wrong.
It would be much too easy to let my desire be the father of thoughts.
Let's see how it goes from here.
It was actually a shame that I was now starting my round trip. But what would I do hanging around the small town alone on a weekday, especially with the weather like it was.
My friends and also Philipp had to work.
I had already planned the round trip at home with Gabi's help. The route was planned in detail and I had even obtained hotel vouchers from a travel agency at home.
So I was able to take advantage of the Lufthansa employee rate.
It was a bit cheaper than if I had negotiated at a reception desk here every day.
I'll spare you the detailed travelogue. Just this: I went first to the east to the Atlantic coast. Then south to Key West. The return trip went along the Gulf Coast up to the Panhandle.
I didn't go to any amusement parks. I only visited the Kennedy Space Center. I already knew all the famous parks from my last vacation.
The weather seemed to be on my side. All the days until the early afternoon pure sun.
Only occasionally there was a shower or a thunderstorm in the late afternoon.
The temperatures had now increased again. On Key West it was even 28 C.
On the way back I had a breakdown with the car shortly before St. Petersburg.
The alternator no longer worked.
It's Saturday, January 11, 2003.
“Hello, Flo? I'm back. Flo" Floho, where are you?”
Nothing.
It's strange; he should have been home by now. “Florian?”
No answer.
I peeled myself out of my armor. After all, it's freezing outside and I hate winter.
After I took off my thick boots, I went to the kitchen.
Actually a kitchen-living room.
It's an old building and back then the kitchen was probably the main living space.
That's how it stayed with us.
Where is Flo?
I started to prepare dinner.
Let's see what else we have, so there is some cheese and?
"dringggg"
Who is that Flo has a key and so does Gabi, right
I opened the door and there were two men in police uniforms
Good evening, are you Mr. Timo Arno Larson??
Er, yes, I think so, but I, uh, I haven't done anything!
May we come in for a moment
May I ask what this is about
Does a Mr. Florian Heinrich live here
I felt queasy in my stomach not to mention that my knees were also getting weak.
Please come in.
I must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground, huddled up, with one of the policemen holding me.
“Hello, Mr. Larson? Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, I'm back.”
“Mr. Larson, can you tell us how we can reach the parents or other relatives of Mr. Heinrich?”
“Excuse me?”
Can you tell us how we can reach Mr. Heinrich's relatives?
Why? What's going on?
Mr. Heinrich had an accident and is?
WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM? I interrupted and screamed.
The policeman who had taken me in his arms hugged me a little and asked very gently, “Are you a couple?”
“Yes?“ I blurted out shyly and quietly, with tears welling up in my eyes.
He held me even tighter.
“Hey, it's okay, little one, I understand.”
“Florian was in an accident. The rescue helicopter took him to the UKE.” (Note from the author: UKE = University Hospital Eppendorf in Hamburg)
What? What happened? And how is he?
Some drunk idiot apparently didn't see the red light at the subway station. He hit Florian. We don't know how he is either. We're only supposed to inform his parents.
I blacked out again briefly.
Mr. Larson?
Okay, I'm back.
Can I visit Flo?
Mr. Larson, as I said, we don't know anything about Mr. Heinrich yet.
Can you give us the address of his parents?
Florian and I are orphans. Until four years ago, we lived in the Pezzalozidorf in Hoisb?ttel.
The children's home?
Yes, we both haven't had parents since we were little.
Can we do anything for you?
Would you please drive me to the hospital?
The colleague talked about something on his radio.
Unfortunately, that's not possible yet. Mr. Heinrich, I mean, Florian is still in surgery.
Do you have a family doctor that we can contact?
Uh, yes, he lives two floors above us.
12.01.2003
It was still dark.
I felt completely empty.
I was still a little dazed.
The drug that Dr. Hackenberg had given me was still having an effect.
Florian?
As if stung by an adder, I tried to jump out of bed – and of course landed on my nose.
Slowly, I managed to get into the shower in the bathroom.
There was no time for breakfast.
Thirty-five minutes later, I was at the UKE registration desk.
“Where is Mr. Florian Heinrich, please?”
“Are you a relative?”
“No, his best friend.”
“Then unfortunately you are not allowed to visit him,” I was told mercilessly by the lady.
This can't be true.
How about the cop from last night, who was so nice?
Sorry, Larson's my name, can you tell me which of your colleagues were with me last night regarding the traffic accident involving Florian Heinrich?
Yes, dear readers, I know that cell phones are not allowed in the hospital, but I really wasn't thinking about that at the moment.
May I ask why?
Yes? I need help?
Now, just take it easy, Mr. Larson. It was Chief Inspector Petersen and Chief Inspector Friedrich.
Can you connect me with them?
No, unfortunately not yet.
They are not yet on duty. But I can leave a message.
How can we reach you?
01xx-123 45 67!
All right, Mr. Larson, we'll be in touch. Do you need any help?
No, I think I'm fine.
I hung up the phone and started to cry. Who can understand me? How can anyone help me?
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Say, it's none of my business, but if you keep crying like this, there was the biggest flood in Hamburg since 1962.
What a jerk. Hey, can't you leave me alone!?
I looked into the face of a young nurse.
Hey, stay cool man! I mean it well!?
I felt like crap.
I snapped at someone who just wanted to be friendly.
Sorry, I didn't mean it, but? sobbing?
What's your name? I'm Thobias?
Timo?
Hello Timo, what's your problem man?
I would like to visit my friend, who has been in intensive care here since yesterday. But they only want relatives to see him. But he only has me...
Are you partners?
Big eyes looked at me.
“Yes?” I replied quietly.
Well, then let's see what can be done, he grinned and gestured for me to follow him.
He had quickly found his way around the intensive care unit.
But there was no patient named Florian Heinrich here. Not anymore!
Try pathology.
It was my third blackout in a very short time.
Just to be clear, I'm really not a wimp, but this was definitely too much.
01/17/2003
Gabi was just with me.
She is my best friend.
Not to be misunderstood, she is my friend, not my girlfriend.
She helped me prepare everything for the memorial service that wasn't already taken care of by the funeral home.
If I didn't have her,
she's a sweetheart and has always been there for me in the last few days.
Actually, not just in the last few days. We've known each other since we were kids.
Two more hours, then it was time.
The memorial service took place in the small church in Hamburg-Bergstedt, followed by the funeral on the other side of the street.
Florian? Why you?
Who will ever give me the answer to that?
Friday, 02/14/2003 02:10
The departure in Hamburg was on time, as usual for Lufthansa Cargo. There were no traffic jams in the sky at this time of day. However, the flight lasted a full 9 hours.
As feared (hoped), I was the girl Friday on board and the crew visibly enjoyed my service. Coffee, sandwiches?
I always enjoy pampering other people. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I get along so well with everyone.
The reaction?
When I need something, or ask my colleagues for the impossible, it's always provided. They're really great colleagues!
*
That reminds me, I haven't introduced myself yet.
My name is Timo.
But my friends call me Tim or Timmy.
I'm 22 years old, have dark brown hair and eyes, am 1.82 tall and slim (easily red).
OK, I admit that I had put on a few pounds in the last few weeks. It was probably because I hadn't done any sport for a while. I now weigh a whopping 76 kilos. But I hoped to get back to my old weight on vacation and leave the winter fat behind.
Vacation? Yes, I really needed that.
Gabi had convinced me that maybe I could gain some distance from Florian's death that way.
I'm an air transport dispatcher by profession.
You don't know it? Right?
Just imagine a freight forwarder who organizes worldwide air transport for cargo.
I trained at Lufthansa and stayed there.
And now for something personal: I don't know my parents. I was just two years old when they died in a car accident, together with my older sister.
I grew up in a home on the northern outskirts of Hamburg, together with Gabi and Florian, who were also orphans.
We became the best of friends. I can't remember when it was, but at some point Florian and I realized that there was something more between us.
You know?
When we started our vocational training, we moved into our own apartment, thanks to support from the youth welfare office.
Initially furnished with second-hand furniture, but that didn't really matter to us.
The only important thing was to be with Flo?
Lufthansa employees are allowed to fly for free once a year.
It's called the “line experience flight” here.
The idea is actually to gain experience of the problems that air crews have to deal with at exotic airports abroad.
But it's also a way to fly cheaply on vacation?
*
The other co-pilot? Well, I'd rather not say. I'm not one to gossip.
It was just after 5:00 a.m. (local time) when we reached the parking position in front of the cargo terminal in Atlanta, Georgia. In the dark, I could only make out the dimensions of the huge airport vaguely. In comparison, Hamburg seemed more like a small airfield.
My fellow passenger just said “Bye” and disappeared. I accompanied the crew to the airport hotel and was promptly invited to breakfast (of course on the company's expenses – shush, please don't tell anyone!).
After that, though, I had to see to it that I got to the departure terminal.
In the hall, I saw my flight posted:
ASA Flt 4681 Dep. 9:55A Gate 32
Great, everything seems to be working out. Another early departure, a stopover in Albany, GA and a connecting flight to Dothan, AL.
What I couldn't understand: This crew had the door to the cockpit open!?! (This is the way America executes flight safety) hmm?
11:02 a.m. landing in Dothan, Alabama.
As I got off the plane, I immediately sensed where I was. There was an extreme humidity. Relative humidity around 95%!
It was very hazy and cloudy, but you could see the sun through a thin altostratus cloud cover.
The temperature was actually pleasant, but combined with this humidity, it was quite difficult to get used to. Before landing, the pilot said “70? F? So a bit over 20? C.
So, now quickly into the check-in/reception building.
It was brand new. They had torn down the old one. Everything was well organized and I had quickly found my luggage when Bob and Don came up to me.
We had met four years ago at the Oktoberfest in Munich, by the way.
Since then, we had visited each other every year, taking turns.
Snow-white teeth beamed at me from two almost black faces. Don was wearing a uniform, which indicated to me that he would probably have to go to work soon (he is a flight instructor at Eglin Air Force Base).
A stormy embrace almost squeezed all the air out of my lungs. Well, that's just how they are, the boys. It took a lot of effort to free myself from his grip. Don't they know what a delicate twen I am :-)?
No offense. On the way to the parking lot, Don actually said goodbye and sped off in his Toyota Pickup.
Bob directed me to his, now at least 25 years old Lincoln. That this huge box still ran?
We had barely set off when I asked him to turn on the air conditioning.
So what did the big baby do? He wound down the window and grinned from ear to ear. And then this crazy Southern drawl. Man, I had missed it in the thousands of e-mails.
I asked Bob how much gas the car uses (8-cylinder engine with 6 liters of displacement). ?? average milage is almost nine and a halve? ? oh shit, what was that again? gr?bel? that must be about 25 liters per hundred kilometers?? Madness.
I must have fallen asleep sometime after De Funiak Springs. But somehow the terrible sound from the medium wave radio was still in my ear.
It was done. We had arrived at a trailer park in Destin, Florida, where my hosts call an oversized trailer their own.
Bob quickly helped me with my luggage. I just quickly checked the time. I had already set it back to Central Time shortly after departure. It now showed just after two. So it must be past 9 p.m. in Germany. I had been on my feet for over 24 hours.
No wonder I was starting to feel the effects. It had been a busy day, and yet it was only noon. I couldn't go on.
Bob woke me up after two hours and said it would be better to start participating in life again, otherwise I wouldn't be able to sleep at night (bad Bob, but you're right).
So what's on the agenda? How about food? Good Bob, two huge steaks sizzled on the grill in front of the trailer, along with two corn cobs. Well then, let's get to it.
Since Bob still had a lot to do, I visited the beach. Wonderful? It was barely over twenty degrees, no people to be seen far and wide (who goes swimming in the winter anyway? Besides, Destin is not a tourist region), but the water of the Gulf was pretty warm (I estimate 25?). So, let's get into the fun.
Ahhh, that felt good.
While snorkeling in the crystal clear water, I saw a few shiny silver fish no longer than a finger and while digging in the white sand, I found a few sand dollars. I think they are related to the better known starfish, only almost circular and without arms.
After about an hour, I had enough and headed into town.
The last time I was here, it was still more of a large fishing village.
In no time at all, I had found the old bistro (or rather fish restaurant) again.
I wasn't hungry, but a refreshment would be nice.
As soon as I entered, a tree-like slave descendant wanted to crush me again.
Damn, how did he say his name? (Not yet 23 and already Alzheimer's?)? “Hi Mike, nice to meet you. How are you doing?”
“Hey Timboy, back from Germany to become a real man? Are you already 21 to stay for a beer with me?”
“I guess a Dr. Pepper will do, Mike?” I finally managed to say. And so on.
Great!
They hadn't forgotten me, but nobody asked?
Did Bob and Don perhaps warn you? Seems so. Maybe that's a good thing.
We talked about God and the world. Well, less about the former.
Sometimes, however, I had to paraphrase quite a bit. Somehow I was missing a few words from time to time. Well, that should probably be over soon.
At least I had to look up some words later.
It was just 7:00 PM when I returned to the trailer. I quickly put the last things from the suitcase into the closet and then took a shower.
Now I was a human again. Outside, the daily spectacle of a beautiful sunset began. Next to the grill on a stump, a pelican was cleaning its feathers.
Since I was still alone, I quickly started writing in my diary.
Shortly thereafter, both cars arrived and Bob called me to help unload.
A cozy evening followed, with a few sandwiches, a few stories from the air force base and plans for tomorrow.
I woke up again when Don was just lifting me up to take me to bed. The broad grin was back on his face.
I let him have his way and was dumped like a toddler on my king-size bed.
Man, what a day. What friends.
Good night, you princes!
Saturday 02/15/2003
A new day, a new luck. But somehow I was quite exhausted.
I think the time difference was still making itself felt.
So first of all Don gave me his cell phone. He doesn't need it that often and I could certainly make good use of it if I broke down somewhere.
I had left my own (D1) at home. It wouldn't have worked here anyway.
Breakfast.
Luckily someone remembered that I don't like porridge or peanut butter.
So a small steak on toast with a fried egg on top.
Yup, that'll make Timo big and strong. But the coffee? Oh dear, I knew there was a catch, didn't I?
(I'll get a gallon of milk at the supermarket later. Fortunately, they're open 24/7 here.)
But a good guest doesn't show his annoyance, of course.
I had problems with the battery of my notebook. I'll see if I can find a power supply somewhere. I wanted to go to Pensacola today anyway.
Don took me there.
He also wanted to organize a rental car for me? I already had a hunch what that meant?
?
Boaa eh, really crazy. I had a car for $ 10 a day from a peanut farmer at the air force base and from a pawn shop in Pensacola, a power supply for 110 volts for my notebook.
Now the battery was charging again. The original power supply should actually switch automatically, but obviously it didn't. Hopefully it didn't get a crack?
So, now the vacation could begin, and I was not dependent on the constant help (driving) of Bob and Don. The car was an old car, dented to the max, but it ran (is there no MOT here?).
I had also bought food for dinner. Let's see if I can still manage that. My hosts had taught me the recipe back then and I had gradually modified it at home.
It was to be a JAMBALAYA. I believe it is originally Creole. A rice pan with chicken legs, a lobster tail, plantains, raisins, corn, sugar snap pea pods, cayenne pepper, thyme and saffron.
I couldn't afford saffron, so I bought turmeric.
In Germany, inspired by Flo, I brought something in the direction of a Spanish paella by adding fresh red and green bell peppers, smoked bell pepper salami, and garlic.
Here, smoked bacon had to do (it was hard enough to find that. Everyone here seems to only eat beef).
Garlic? No problem, the boys didn't have to work tomorrow.
Wow, I hadn't received such high praise for my cooking in a long time. And they both really know their stuff.
In their excitement, they tickled me so hard that I almost couldn't breathe.
But then they obediently let me dictate the new recipe. It was really delicious.
On the other hand, they can grill steaks a hundred times better. I always have trouble finding the right doneness, between “rare” and “medium rare” – that's how I like it best.
It must be hard for you, too, since you always eat it “well done”.
But they just press the meat with their finger and know. Maybe I will learn that one day too?
While the two big guys were enjoying a beer or three on the patio, I quickly wrote in my diary. The sunset was picturesque after the heavy thunderstorm earlier, with a pelican.
So, now back to the guys and let the evening fade away.
Sunday, February 16, 2003
The day started out awkwardly. I woke up around 10:00 a.m. and was alone???
Oh shit. I had forgotten. It was Sunday and my friends are obedient Baptists and of course in church. I'm not that religious, but I liked going with them often because of the empathetic gospel songs. Well, I'll still be here for a few days.
I quickly wrote a note that I was going jogging and they shouldn't wait for me for dinner.
I realized that I hadn't done anything in a long time. I was only gone an hour. Otherwise, I usually run two for training. But maybe it's also because of the high humidity.
As soon as I got back, they sent me to the shower and then wanted to go deep-sea fishing with me. Great idea.
On the way to the harbor, the cool box was loaded with drinks and ice cubes and a chicken sandwich from Hardy's (local burger chain a?la McDonald's) was stuffed in. Yes, yes, junk food?
In the harbor we had to wait half an hour, when a friend of my hosts showed up with his two sons.
Didn't know all three yet, but surely soon.
We headed for a cool ocean-going yacht. Although a bit old and no longer snow-white, but still.
Cast off and full speed ahead. Awesome, and it had stopped raining.
However, there was a good wind. I didn't need a jacket, but I had put on a thick hooded sweater as a precaution.
After just 30 minutes, a device responded with bright beeps. Chris (the skipper) pulled the throttle to zero. “Here we are,” he said, spitting his chewing tobacco overboard. So it started.
Hmmm, I've never been fishing on the high seas before, and certainly not with such huge rods.
Philipp, the older of the two boys, apparently understood my expression immediately, grinned, and took care of me.
There it was again. The uncomplicated, tolerant nature of Americans. I was happy to take direction from him; he had a somehow likeable, really pleasant charisma.
I attentively let myself be briefed: he attached a piece of squid to my hook and explained to me that I should now simply winch it overboard slowly until I notice that it has reached the bottom and then catch up about one to two feet at a time. And then just wait.
A few more explanations followed about the winch's mechanics, which seemed complicated at first, but I think I got it.
While the two brothers were still setting up their rods, I noticed a certain activity on mine. I waited almost another minute or two before I yanked the rod up with a strong tug.
Bingo, there was something on it. I gently set the winch in motion and wound foot by foot the thick tendon. The more I cranked, the more resistance my prisoner offered me.
Meanwhile, I attracted the attention of my companions and I received all sorts of conflicting advice.
All anglers are like that, I guess.
I'm not sure, but the “fight” lasted about 5 minutes before I pulled a wildly wriggling fish on board.
Philipp spontaneously jumped in, pulled out his huge hunting knife and gave the fish a strong blow to the head. He called me over and asked for the small pliers that were in his tackle box.
He showed me how to remove the hook from the fish's mouth without hurting myself.
What had I caught? It was a red snapper of almost four pounds. It looks quite similar to our redfish, but has a slightly larger head, which takes up a good third of the whole fish, and huge eyes. Not to forget: razor-sharp teeth.
I was so proud of myself that I only just heard Chris's loud call from the background: “Dams luck!”? I guess it means something like “luck is with the stupid” or maybe “beginners luck”. However, one look at his beaming face told me what he meant and I understood the joke.
The fish was quickly scaled, gutted and stowed in a box of ice.
I was proud of myself for trying to show my young teacher what he had taught me. I also received appreciative looks. Only Nick, his younger brother, giggled occasionally, but that didn't bother me.
But nothing happened for a while. We all reeled in our lines and continued out about 10 minutes more until we heard the beeper again.
On we went, “Good fishing!”
Same procedure as last time?
This time it was Don and Nick almost simultaneously. They both caught a red snapper each. They weren't quite as big, but they were big enough to be caught.
They also weighed at least three pounds each!
Then low tide again. Bob and Don retreated to the cabin to crack open a beer when we drove a bit more.
And again, same procedure?
But nothing really happened. I had the feeling that someone was nibbling on my fresh bait, but there was no real pull.
I also thought I saw a higher level of attention from Nick, but he too was just relaxing when Philipp started shouting loudly.
Now my language skills were hopelessly overwhelmed for a moment.
Nick pushed me very roughly aside and Chris maneuvered his oldest to the fishing seat at the stern of the boat, where he then immediately secured the fishing rod with two snap hooks.
In the meantime, my teacher had only ever let the winch run.
Now there was a little calm in the boat again and Nick smiled at me with a “sorry, my friend, just starting a big deal” on his lips.
Hmm, what should happen now?
In the meantime, Big Daddy had strapped his son into the fishing chair and Philipp began to reel in the winch very gradually.
Judging by the expression on Philipp's face, it was no easy task.
In spurts, his fish offered such resistance that I feared the rod would break.
Nick came to me and politely asked me to help him reel in the other rods so that the lines wouldn't get tangled. It was kind of funny to be told what to do by a little boy, but that thought didn't occur to me until later in the diary. Little boy was probably also not entirely true, I estimate him to be around 16 years old.
I had followed his instructions on the spot, because it was a logical necessity!
When we had hauled in all the lines, we heard cries of enthusiasm from aft and the word “Swordfish”.
Nick and I turned around and could just see something big and gray falling back into the Gulf of Mexico.
Chris now took a thick Havana cigar out of his vest and said to me, “Okay, sunny, it's your turn.” He grinned and lit his cigar.
While Philipp broke out in a sweat, Don and Bob got another beer and brought Nick and me a Coke, but we didn't have time to be thirsty now.
We were both rooting for Philipp.
Nick smiled and explained, “It's his first one.” I thought I could understand what was going on in Philipp's mind.
My red snapper two hours ago was also my first. But that one was easy. Nick pulled me by the sleeve and we were now standing directly behind Philipp.
I couldn't help but put both hands on Philipp's shoulders and gave him a firm squeeze. He just looked around briefly and I saw a sparkle in his eyes.
By now, the fish was only about 30 meters behind the boat when his dad went topside and started the engine at a slow speed. I was a little annoyed and Nick recognized the uncomprehending expression on my face.
I quickly learned that the fish could only be caught when it was exhausted.
For a moment I was reminded of Ernest Hemingway and the novel 'The Old Man and the Sea'.
I thanked Nick, who smiled enthusiastically, and continued to follow the action.
In the meantime, I had opened my Coke and handed it to Philipp, who gratefully took a big gulp and then continued to concentrate on HIS fish.
Finally, Bob and Don came to the stern with two long peek hooks.
The fish had given up.
Philipp now cranked as hard as he could and the fish came to the surface at the stern. It took at least another 10 minutes before we had him on board and then, with a single stab from Philipp with a knife, took his life completely.
It was a swordfish of almost two meters in length. Philipp looked first at his father and then at me as if to ask, “Well, how was I?”
As thrilled as I was, my face could only reply, ‘Great?’ and I patted him on the shoulder with the words, ‘Hey, this is what I call fishing?’ His dad said, ”It's my son?”
That was enough for today and Chris steered the boat back north. I tried to help Philipp gut the swordfish and realized the pride with which he had done it. Nick, meanwhile, started to 'clear the ship'.
Only now did I realize that Don and Bob were trying to finish the beer supply in the cabin again. I guess it's better if I drive the pickup truck later?
We successfully made it back to the small harbor in Choctawhatchee Bay after riding out another typical thunderstorm. It was quite late. Philipp's adventure had lasted more than two hours.
But before we parted, Philipp gave me a note with an address and phone number and the wish that I should call if I didn't know what to do with my vacation and that he would like to meet me again tomorrow?
You can take it for granted, I gushed enthusiastically.
Off home. In our cool box were two red snapper. So it was clear what I was celebrating in the kitchen that evening.
For my good friends, I steamed the fish in plenty of lemon juice. You don't need much more if the fish is really fresh, maybe some toasted bread with it?
But it was way too much? a lot was left over.
A really great Sunday drew to a close with the usual sunset.
Where is the pelican?
Had I found a new friend for the time here? Philipp might be about my age. So I would have found someone who understands me better. Admittedly, Bob and Don are also very nice, but they are almost 10 years older.
It would be really great to experience further adventures with Philipp. No travel company would offer something like that.
Good night, you princes, I love you all!
And now I dream of this eventful day?
Monday 17.02.2003, Washington's Birthday
I slept quite late (for me) and was quite surprised not to be alone.
Oh, national holiday (actually Presidents' Day, but everyone just talks about Washington's Birthday).
Somehow I hadn't really realized that yesterday. Now it's clear why Philipp promised another meeting for today yesterday.
While my friends were spreading the obligatory peanut butter on bread, I made myself scrambled eggs on toast and a hot chocolate and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice.
Well strengthened, I asked about the plans for the day. Don and Bob had not really planned anything important. Don hinted, however, that he wanted to check on his pickup.
It was still wet outside, so it must have rained during the night, and it was damn cold for Florida. It was now 47°F, but Bob said it had been just 40°F earlier.
Where's my ski suit?
So I picked up the phone and called Philipp. He picked up immediately and seemed really happy to hear from me. A meeting point was quickly agreed and he asked if I knew how to skateboard.
Hey, awesome, but where would I get a board here? The problem was quickly solved. Philipp said that Nick would lend me his if he was allowed to come with inline skates.
Of course he was allowed to. We met behind a miniature golf course where a halfpipe had been set up. On the way there, I noticed that the Stars and Stripes were flying in front of almost every house.
They really are all little patriots (or just full of national pride).
First of all, I thanked Nick for his board. After all, at home it is an unwritten law never to lend your board?
By noon we had romped around until we were hungry and then we went to my favorite snack bar.
Ah, wonderful? and heated. It's still pretty fresh, but definitely more pleasant than in frosty Germany.
We walked barefoot through the warm water at the beach and I told the boys about the typical German bad habit of building sandcastles on the beach. I don't think they really understood it.
When I arrived at Philipp and Nick's house, I was invited for coffee (brrr).
It is tradition on this holiday to eat a cherry pie.
I always thought that people in this country enjoy pies warm as a dessert in the evening.
I quickly learned that they are originally of German descent and have retained the habit of drinking coffee in the afternoon on Sundays and holidays. Well, it even tasted like coffee.
When I was invited to dinner, I thought it better to call Bob briefly, should anyone be worried about me.
Gradually, the living room was transformed into a party room. Towards sunset, the place was really packed.
A neighboring family arrived and it could really start. It was strange.
I was a guest in the home of people I'd hardly met, some of whom I'd only met yesterday, and they treated me as if I'd always been one of the family.
It was really great fun for me. All kinds of party games were tried out. I had the most fun when a load of apples was dropped into a medium-sized baby bathtub. Now it was up to all the players to fish out as many as possible at the same time. However, one's hands were tied with a scarf on the back.
The only fishing gear available were the teeth. I almost won and was soaking wet, but when counting it turned out that Nick was even more skilled. He had one more apple.
The two girls of the neighbors, however, failed miserably. Their long hair kept falling into their faces and they couldn't get rid of it? hehe.
We quickly dried ourselves and I got a fresh smurf (hoodie) from Philipp.
A myriad of steaks were now sizzling on the grill – swordfish steaks! Hmm, I've never eaten those before.
They don't look any different than shark or tuna steaks.
After adding plenty of coarse pepper, they were served. In addition, salads of all kinds were available at the buffet.
I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised. I had once fried tuna steaks in Germany, but they were quite dry and firm. Now, however, I bit into very juicy, tender meat that didn't taste anything like fish. Compliments. It tasted great.
It was a shame, but eventually it was time for me to go home. I was offered the chance to stay overnight, but I didn't want to put too much of a strain on the hospitality of my new friends. Besides, I didn't have anything with me.
Philipp was more than willing to help me out with everything, but something inside me resisted
(why actually? Maybe I'm just not ready yet? Hey Timo, life is going on!).
I could see a certain disappointment in his eyes when we said goodbye.
On the way I ran, far in the north a thunderstorm was brewing again, but here the moon was still shining and it was quite cold again.
I think I really found a new friend in Philipp. He is a very nice guy. He is a very good listener, is super athletic? and? Did I already tell you how great he looks?
Most importantly, he seems to have a certain sympathy for me.
I was sure we would have a lot of fun together. Hopefully he wasn't upset that I didn't want to stay overnight.
It was already dark in the trailer, so I tiptoed to bed.
Why did I sweat so much the first night?
Now I could really use my down comforter from home.
I wrote in my diary and listened to the crickets for quite a while.
My thoughts kept returning to Philipp, because he was also damn good-looking? or had I already mentioned that? ?
Oops, he still had his sweater on?
Tuesday 02/18/2003
Dear readers, in the further course of the story, I will take the trouble to try to translate the literal speeches into German *fg*.
So, now I have everything ready and we are ready to go.
This morning I was still with Philipp, or more precisely with his mom.
I had returned the sweater and got mine back.
Over a coffee, a very interesting conversation developed with her.
She said that Philipp had been really cheerful for the first time in a long time since Sunday, and compared to before, he was almost over the top.
He had been said to have been rather listless, introverted and withdrawn for quite some time before that?
I had a very strong suspicion here now. But I didn't tell her. It could also be that I was wrong.
It would be much too easy to let my desire be the father of thoughts.
Let's see how it goes from here.
It was actually a shame that I was now starting my round trip. But what would I do hanging around the small town alone on a weekday, especially with the weather like it was.
My friends and also Philipp had to work.
I had already planned the round trip at home with Gabi's help. The route was planned in detail and I had even obtained hotel vouchers from a travel agency at home.
So I was able to take advantage of the Lufthansa employee rate.
It was a bit cheaper than if I had negotiated at a reception desk here every day.
I'll spare you the detailed travelogue. Just this: I went first to the east to the Atlantic coast. Then south to Key West. The return trip went along the Gulf Coast up to the Panhandle.
I didn't go to any amusement parks. I only visited the Kennedy Space Center. I already knew all the famous parks from my last vacation.
The weather seemed to be on my side. All the days until the early afternoon pure sun.
Only occasionally there was a shower or a thunderstorm in the late afternoon.
The temperatures had now increased again. On Key West it was even 28 C.
On the way back I had a breakdown with the car shortly before St. Petersburg.
The alternator no longer worked.