**Please include your name, too.** E-mail stories to: allison4zahs2008@comcast.net |
The Pink Bike Story
Submitted By: Allison (Higdon) Skidmore My parents had made it abundantly clear that I was not allowed to go to the party at the top of the Fasanerie in "The Ruins". They didn't understand! It was 1988, my SENIOR YEAR, and everyone was going to be there!! Oh, well~ my good friend Jenifer Elwell wasn't allowed to go, either. She and I would commiserate for about ten whole minutes before we talked ourselves into lying to our parents...Our evil plan had been hatched. Jen's bedroom was in the converted basement and her parents always went to bed early, so her house was the perfect platform to perpetrate our ruse. To throw my parents off, I mustered the most defeatist attitude I could and said, "Well, since Jen and I aren't allowed to go to that party, can I at least spend the night at her house?". They totally bought it! This was going to be too easy.
Neither of us could take our cars without our parents' knowledge, but we had to have transportation. The problem was solved when I realized that my sisters would NEVER miss one of their bicycles~ if we borrowed one, we'd have it back by the time they got around to riding it. We picked the pink one with the tassels on the handlebars~ we were going to travel in style! We both jumped on the banana seat, and down the hill we went at full speed. Both tires went flat. The road to the Fasanerie was not new, nor was it smooth. It hurt. Once we arrived, we stashed the bike on the other side of a stone wall and used a stack of tree branches to cover it. We hiked what felt like 2 miles up the hill, and finally made it to the party. We were both exhausted, sweaty, and our gigantic hairstyles had fallen victim to the 3 Gs we had endured on the bike ride down. We were in no mood to party, we just wanted to go home. We were way too spent to consider walking that bike all the way back up the hill, and there was no way we'd make it back to Jen's house in time for the 1AM curfew. Rick Clifton had the perfect solution~ a shortcut! He walked us to the edge of the woods and pointed us in the right direction.
All we had to do was cross a field and get to the sidewalk by the main road between the base and base housing. It was pitch black that night, but we used the headlights of passing cars in the distance as a guide. We started our trek by congratulating each other and marveling at our resourcefulness. After a while, we noticed a putrid smell, and as we jokingly accused each other of doing something "unladylike", we both stepped in something of questionable consistency. We gagged and dry heaved, but at least we were vindicated! We barely had time to collect ourselves before we panicked~ we heard ourselves being surrounded by mooing and we were certain we could make out the sounds of cloven hooves running toward us! We both yelled, "Stampede!!!" and ran for our lives. By the time we reached the Elwell house, she and I were covered in cow manure, and our clothes were ripped from all the barbed wire we had unwittingly run into (I believe the proper football term would be "clotheslined" haha).
The next day, my little sisters decided they were finally going to ride that pink bike...and I was completely busted (that's a story in itself!). My parents must have been able to smell the B.S. residue on me!
As for the fate of that little pink bicycle, I found out that one of my friends had found the bike at the ruins and destroyed it because he thought someone had thrown it away. I won't reveal his name, but his initials are "S" as in "Sam" and "C" as in "Conlee" (hehehehe). He felt horrible about it and apologized profusely. Of course, I forgave him. My parents, on the other hand, were a little less forgiving...I'm not even supposed to be on the computer right now~ I think I'm still grounded.
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The Big Tree Savior!
Submitted By: Herman Torres Yes, it was one of those nights where all of us decided to have a castle party somewhere in the hills of Pirmasens. I was in charge of driving~ of course my little green beemer was known for putting several thousand miles on it. By my side sat Cyndi Peppe and in the back was my renegade friend Mr. Steve McGaffey and Scott Anderson. Yes, we were on our way and actually made it to the party where we began immediately driving around in circles with Kiki the man of steel behind the wheel. We stayed for a brief moment and I did not want to drink heavily because I knew I had to go pick up Oliver, Rob, Eric, and Reggie (The old Buke E Boy Squad). Time went by and it was time to go get the boys so I jumped in the little green machine and went on my way Cyndi and Steve decide to join me but Scott stayed behind almost 2 hundred feet up on an enormous wall we decided to party on. So down the hill we go around one curve and another and out of no where came a huge Oak tree sitting behind the guard rails and --Bammm!-- it decided to give me a great big hug. Luckily, Cyndi and I were wearing our seat belts. Our good friend Steve was not, but somehow, some way we did not get hurt other than a couple of bumps and bruises. Immediately came the yelps cries and moans after we figured out what the hell just happened. We had no clue on how the hell anybody was going to know what happened to us, as we were in the middle of nowhere and there was no possible way anyone heard anything. Around an hour goes by and we see a car coming down the hill, flying around the curves and of course we are so scared at this point the only thing we can do is hide around the other side of the curb hoping that the car slows down and notices what happened to us. Not a chance though. The car did not slow down, and before we knew it was also too late for them to slow down, the next thing you hear is a screeching sound and than a crash and then a swooosh, over the rail the second car flew. It was a blue small 4 door coupe that we all knew belonged to our great friend David Johnstone who we knew at the time was with Kim May. Cyndi, Steve, and I started screaming at the top of our lungs hoping that the car was okay but knowing in the back of our head there is no way someone can survive that crash... I mean the sound was horrible --you can hear the car hit numerous limbs, and then you hear this awful crash. Then out of nowhere you can hear some trees making noise and someone yelling, sure enough Dave and Kim climbed up the hill and were totally fine. We could not believe it, immediately tears turned into smiles and rejoicing. Sure enough we knew the cops would be on their way, that's when we started thinking-how the hell are we going to sober Dave up before the Polizei arrive? Luckily, Steve had a full pack of cigarettes and sure enough Dave started chain smoking like there was no tomorrow. Polizei showed up and saw my car into the tree and that's when we told them there was another car further down the hill. They gave everyone breathalyzer tests and no one went to jail. Wow, what a hell of an experience ~for a few teenagers to come out with hardly anything wrong with them. That night was the time I will never forget how close we all became, and how not giving up hope that everything was going to be okay truly kept us from losing our minds. There are hundreds of stories to be told about the time we all went to school together and close to a hundred parties that I remember. I'm very lucky to have had the friends I did in Zweibrucken and I will never forget any of you. See ya in Vegas!!!!! |
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# 99 Crazy Drinking Times @ Zwei
Submitted By: Sam McGill class of '77
1974~
Camping in Zwei ?? That's right we saved our money all month and pitched our tent bewteen the AYA and the tennis courts(on Kreuzburg)...and proceeded down town to a carnival or fair. Needless to say we were in the beer tent all night. Staggered up that long hill in time to be in our sleeping bags when one of the parents came by checking on us. First night ok.
Second night we brought the beer to the tent. AYA dance not far away. Tent started getting crowded...should have charged for "necking tent"...stupidly started taking the labels off all the beer we drank and stuck them on the tent poles...by morning we must have had 100 labels stuck on the metal tent poles....for my FATHER to see as he was walking my dog first thing in the am.
He was pretty cool about it...must not have been our tent....still don't think he saw the labels...
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Great Summers in Zwei
Submitted By: Jim Brunson It was the Summer of 1976. Dad let me have his VW412 station wagon and I was one of the few that had wheels at the school. The usual cars were older French cars or beater MBs. We had a kegger at the ol’ Phasanarie Gartens down in the ruins below the pond. We had Foghat and The Eagles blaring from car stereos and the party lasted through the evening. I believe we had a 200 liter keg of Parkbrau, though it might have been smaller. At least 500 people at the party. Back then, the Polizei would pass us American kids and let us have fun. There was WAY more hash than beer. People were skinny and we did what we wanted. No nanny state. The Summer of 1978, we were drinking at the “Green Shack”, just below airbase housing. Mike decided to walk over some VW bug on the way down the hill. The Polizei rounded up 300 American kids from the streets and waited until one of us confessed. Mike finally did – a great guy, though buzzed that night. They let the rest of us go.
The Summer of 1980, me and Mark Hopple took his VW van and pilfered nearly ALL the roses from downtown Zwei. We put them in some gal’s stairwell at airbase housing. It must have been at least 2,000 roses. She was mortified. We were pretty ripped. The City of Zwei thought it was vandalism. I suppose it was.
Later during the Summer of 1980, we partied on the other side of the road in the Phasanarie, the Duke’s Summer residence. It was on a hillside and everyone was into Oregon mushrooms. The Polizei this time decided to intervene, just to get everyone home, ha. What a ride back to N-kirchen with Mark and his gal! From the backseat, it was better than any film.
The Summer of 1982 and the music industry beckoned. And most of that was German and away from Zwei High. I stayed for another 7 years before returning to the USA. Though I kept a day job at the Kreuzberg Rod & Gun.
The Summer of 2003 I ventured back to Zwei. Building 52 is still there as are the others, but they are vacant now. The base theater and the cafeteria where I ate are empty. It made me feel empty too. I still remember the jets silencing teachers as they left the base. The BI is closed, though the ice arena remains.
Wild nights in Zwei and crazy days. Props to Woody and Victor! And to Jim Fertig, if he remembers, too.
It was NOT all quiet on the Western Front. We made it happen. It was our days. And it was fun as hell. |
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THE CHICKEN McNUGGET INCIDENT It was track season--spring of 1985. We were on our way to a scheduled track meet at Berlin High and the train had to get through Checkpoint Charlie. The East German guards were watching the train with grim, somber faces and toting machine guns. (Hey, does anybody else remember this?) This is what I understood happened: While we were waiting for clearance, one of the boys in the guys' section of the train threw a Chicken McNugget at the guards. The tension in the train shot sky-high and we were detained for a lot longer than we anticipated. Our release became uncertain and word was going around about how something like this happened before and the train was detained for a few days. Hours later, when we were finally cleared, the rumor was the kid was left there. His father would have to come get him and, of course, the base commanding officer would be involved. His dad was demoted and the family was sent state-side. The source of the rumor was from my dad's work (rumors spread like wildfire across the base); which was relayed to me a day or two after returning from the meet. |
