I've got a 80+ year old neighbor from Germany.
A really cool guy he stops by the house on his walks to pet the cat or chat with me.
He immigrated to America after being a POW during WWII. He was sent to Filmore, and worked on farm machinery and picked fruit as a POW.
He's told me in the past he was treated well, and even paid. He had been a mechanic in the German Army.
His wife, a girl he met while a POW, died a few years back. One really interesting story how they met, reunited after the war and married. He became a Engineer with Benz.
Abook could be written on them.
He was walking by yesterday evening and came up to my front door to tell me my truck was leaking oil,, again.
I got a flashlight, and we crawled under it to discover it was the oil filter.
He told me not to trust it, and to get a new one in the morning.
It reminded me of one summer as a kid when I worked at Michelmore Motors, a VW dealer in Reseda. 80 cents an hour.
I just did lot kid stuff,, cleaning ect. Every once and a while the German mechanics would let me do some minor maint on the cars.
But sometimes they'd show me more advanced stuff. At least to a kid it was advanced.
They taught me a few tricks of the mechanics trade I was later able to use later on in the service, and working on frustrating problems with mine and my friends cars. Tricks to setting bearings right, carburation, electrical,,, they made it interesting.
They were pretty cool. though never trusting a kid, they always checked my work.
That experience really stuck with me. That is, the Germans had plenty of dedication to doing the job right. Teriffic work ethics that left a lasting impression.
In their thick German accents, they used to tell me things like: "Be conscientious about your work. Know what you are doing and don't loose your temper. When in the dark about something, light a candle".
I loved their strict German philospy, it really stuck with me.
WWII had gone through the wheelhouse of their youth and they couldn't stress enough to me how good I had it growing up in the USA. Man o man were they ever glad to be here. Germany was still going through reconstruction and where they lived it was tough to get by.
I love working there for the few short months. The smell of the new cars, making money, working mostly outside, learning cool stuff from strict, but cool guys.
I told my German neighbor the story, and he said he new Michelmore the owner of the VW dealer.
He told me he had been killed in a plane crash some years ago.
It's a small world after all.
A really cool guy he stops by the house on his walks to pet the cat or chat with me.
He immigrated to America after being a POW during WWII. He was sent to Filmore, and worked on farm machinery and picked fruit as a POW.
He's told me in the past he was treated well, and even paid. He had been a mechanic in the German Army.
His wife, a girl he met while a POW, died a few years back. One really interesting story how they met, reunited after the war and married. He became a Engineer with Benz.
Abook could be written on them.
He was walking by yesterday evening and came up to my front door to tell me my truck was leaking oil,, again.
I got a flashlight, and we crawled under it to discover it was the oil filter.
He told me not to trust it, and to get a new one in the morning.
It reminded me of one summer as a kid when I worked at Michelmore Motors, a VW dealer in Reseda. 80 cents an hour.
I just did lot kid stuff,, cleaning ect. Every once and a while the German mechanics would let me do some minor maint on the cars.
But sometimes they'd show me more advanced stuff. At least to a kid it was advanced.
They taught me a few tricks of the mechanics trade I was later able to use later on in the service, and working on frustrating problems with mine and my friends cars. Tricks to setting bearings right, carburation, electrical,,, they made it interesting.
They were pretty cool. though never trusting a kid, they always checked my work.
That experience really stuck with me. That is, the Germans had plenty of dedication to doing the job right. Teriffic work ethics that left a lasting impression.
In their thick German accents, they used to tell me things like: "Be conscientious about your work. Know what you are doing and don't loose your temper. When in the dark about something, light a candle".
I loved their strict German philospy, it really stuck with me.
WWII had gone through the wheelhouse of their youth and they couldn't stress enough to me how good I had it growing up in the USA. Man o man were they ever glad to be here. Germany was still going through reconstruction and where they lived it was tough to get by.
I love working there for the few short months. The smell of the new cars, making money, working mostly outside, learning cool stuff from strict, but cool guys.
I told my German neighbor the story, and he said he new Michelmore the owner of the VW dealer.
He told me he had been killed in a plane crash some years ago.
It's a small world after all.