The Laughing Wolf

A Fun Memory Of Mom

I’ve been watching Band of Brothers, that excellent series, on the History Channel. The series has brought back a lot of good memories for me, from the first episode which is set in Toccoa, Georgia, which is not too far from where I spent a nice portion of my youth, to The Eagle’s Nest in the last couple. I had the chance to visit that area when I was young, and it ended up giving me a memory of my Mom that still makes me laugh.

When I was 12, we spent the summer living with an Uncle who was stationed in Italy with the Air Force. One of the things we did was to drive up into Switzerland, and Germany to tour, and the Eagle’s Nest was on the itinerary, given that I was an avid student of all things WWII. Mom wasn’t real keen on going up there, and much preferred looking at the mountains from down in the town. As a child, I knew that Mom did not like heights, but it didn’t really register that she REALLY DIDN’T LIKE heights. In fact, they terrified her. It was not something I shared as heights don’t bother me, nor does falling – it is only the sudden stop that bothers me. So, I joined the other kids in scrambling around, going out on trails and sharp ridges, and exploring every public area of the nest. Mom was not happy, but didn’t scream at me too much.

She was much happier when we took a tour of the underground bunkers and fortifications. I was fascinated with the design, construction techniques, and other factors and so while I knew she was happier I really didn’t think much about it. Indeed, I was much more interested in finding out if one could explore more than was shown and memorizing a lot of what I saw. Partly just because I was curious, and partly because I wanted to see what provisions had been made for gas, since even at that age I figured out real quick that the defenses were not up to one grenade or canister of gas.

When we left the Nest, I was happy. Life was great, and I am taking in the magnificent view from my window seat in the bus. I was happily describing all to my Mom, who had averted her face from the window almost as soon as we boarded the bus. As we start down the road, I look down on the town and happily announce “Look Mom, you can see the hotel from here!” From the floor of the bus, where she was trying to get under the seat came the words:

“Shut UP Blake!”

“Mom, what are you doing on the floor?”

“Just shut up, and tell me when it is safe to get up again.”

I did, and Mom was a good sport about my teasing and sharing the story with one and all. Out of all the wonders I saw that trip, this incident is still one of the first to come up, and remains a memory of Mom that is guaranteed to bring a smile. Thanks Mom.

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