We finally had some sunshine, and the clouds above the Arrow Lake and the nearby mountains were imposing. To create a video I took 70 still pictures. I used a tripod for my camera and connected it with a new device called Shutter-Boss II. This amazing tool allows you to set the number of shots, the interval between the shots, the start time and many other controls. All you have to do is turn on the camera and focus on the object you want to photograph. Later at home, I ran the images through my video editor and increased its speed to make the clouds dramatically move across the blue sky. Enjoy.
When I woke up from a deep sleep the following day, I could see through the big window that a clean blanket of snow had covered the drabness of the yard outside the Old House of Rocky Docky. My father had heard the famous song on the radio and aptly applied it to our new abode. It would always cheer us up to listen to our “theme song,” We would sing it with gusto to make the old house rock.
Walter and Elisabeth Panknin smile at the prospect of having their own apartment soon.
The bright morning sun made the snow crystals sparkle and dance; Despite the first signs of spring earlier, winter was not over yet. My parents were already dressed to go out. My mother told us that the manager of the refugee shelter had allocated them some funds to buy household items, utensils and other necessary equipment for everyday living. Our mother told us that before she would go shopping, she would enroll us in the nearby school called Elementary School at the Tree. Since we had missed classes for more than a month in the transition camp in Massen, we were looking forward to regular school life again.
Two Hundred Forty Photos Turned into a Hibiscus Flower Video
Each time a hibiscus flower opens up, it is a marvel to observe how over just a matter of a few hours it unfolds its spectacular petals. This video was created from 240 photos that I shot with the help of a device that connects to my Sony camera and controls the number of shots and the interval between the shots. The pictures were taken one minute apart. The session lasted several hours. Enjoy.
At the end of it, there was a door leading to a small room with a large recessed window in the bare rock wall. It looked like a prison cell, except there were no bars on the window. There were two sets of bunk beds, a table with four chairs, a small table with a two-burner hotplate and a small dresser. “This is your temporary place until your apartment is completed,” the manager told us. And in response to my parent’s questioning glance, he added, “This may take up to two years. We just don’t know where to house all you people,” he grumbled, leaving us to attend to the other families.
We all stood dumbfounded until my mother’s loud sobs broke the silence for a moment. She collapsed on one of the beds and cried and cried. I had never seen my mother cry like that before, which shocked me deeply. My father looked helpless. Eventually, he started stroking my mother’s back. My brother and I climbed onto our top beds, completely bewildered.
Mama Panknin Making Tea on the Hot Plate
Eventually, my mother’s crying stopped. She rallied and took us to the outhouse. She found a clean wash basin to scrub the grime off our face and hands’ long dusty truck ride. She magically produced some bread, butter, cheese and jam. She also made some weak tea on the hot plate. We were so starved; it tasted heavenly. Then she hugged us warmly and said, “With God’s help, we’ll make it through.”
The driver jumped out of the cab, opened the truck ramp, and started unloading the luggage and helping us jump out. Dazed and bewildered, numb from the cold and very hungry, we all stood speechless for a moment. “Take your belongings and follow me,” the driver told us.
When the Panknin family had moved into this dingy, rundown place in 1954, the single ‘THIS OLE HOUSE” had just been released in the US and became very popular in Germany with the version in German. The song provided some joy despite the depressing living quarters.
He led us around the extremely long building to a courtyard with a row of several outhouses. “You can go there in a minute,” he told us, “but let me show you your quarters first. This old building used to be a pub and a bowling alley,” he continued, “now it has been converted into an emergency shelter for people like you. I’ll introduce you to the manager of this establishment.” He laughed and pointed to a man who had just stepped out of the entrance to receive us.
THIS OLE HOUSE IN GERMAN – Papa Panknin liked this song as it gave a fitting description of the refugee camp they now had to live in until they had found an apartment.
We were the first ones to be led to our room. We had to go through a long hall with several big sinks, laundry tubs and a wash line with a few rags drying. There were brooms, mops, pails, garbage cans and other equipment stored along the walls. The evening light coming in through oversized windows could hardly soften the drabness of this dingy hall.
On a walk along the shore of the Arrow Lake in June I came across a most curious sight. On the ground I spotted a gathering of butterflies which displayed a rather odd behaviour. They were attracted to a grey mass of an object. Tightly bunched together they appeared to be in a drinking frenzy with their proboscises sucking up some undefinable liquid. First I shot a few pictures from several metres away fearing that they might fly away before I had a chance to capture their bizarre behaviour. As I came closer and closer I noticed that they completely ignored my presence. Rather they behaved like people in a bar being in various stages of intoxication. One butterfly was lying on its side sticking its proboscis deep into a crack of the unknown substance. Others sitting on top of one another. I was deeply puzzled. Now I was so close that my camera lens was able to take close-ups at times even touching their wings. Then I finally realized that the source of their attraction was a fish head, which had been left at the beach by a fisherman. I hope you can still enjoy the photos. Apparently butterflies do not always go after the colourful flowers. At times they rather prefer the valuable nutrients of a rotten fish head.
The Peter and Gertrud Klopp Family 