Wuppertal-Elberfeld: A Mouthful for a Young Boy

Written by Eric

My dad, Gunther, emigrated with his family from Germany to the United States in 1928 when he was 9 years old. From the time that I was very young, whenever I asked my dad where he was born, he would say, "Wuppertal-Elberfeld." Now I was looking for some response like "Mayberry or Allentown or even Westfield." But what I got was a name of a town I could not understand especially since it was couched in a deep German accent.

When I got older my dad, though he was an invalid by that time and had difficulty speaking, would tell me some things about where he came from. I knew it was in northern Germany and that it was an industrialized area. I knew they had a special monorail in town and he also gave me a book with pictures of his town that was printed in 1920. Every time I had a social studies project in school, I would choose to do a report on this double-named town.

You can imagine my intrigue and excitement last week when, driving down the Autobahn, I saw the exit for Wuppertal. We had been able to narrow down the choices of where he lived to one street - Wulfrather Strasse. Through Google Maps I found out that it was only four blocks long. That was short enough to walk the whole way.

There is something hard to describe about the feeling I had walking in Germany on the street where my dad was born and where he lived. Though my dad died in 1969, walking down Wulfrather Strasse gave me a special connection with my dad again. It was an incredibly steep street with apartments and a local neighborhood church and cemetery. Maybe my dad was baptized in that church - how cool is that? Maybe my dad sledded down his street. That would have been fun. Maybe there were my relatives buried in the cemetary. I did not have time to explore. I did get to ride the special mono-rail called the Schwebebahn, built in the late 1800s. During that whole day I was wishing I could do the "Back to the Future" thing and see my relatives as they were when they were children.

While we only got to spend a day in Wuppertal-Elberfeld, I thought much about what it must have been like for a young 9-year-old boy to leave the only city and country that he knows, and to get on a boat with his family and ride for over a week to a new land where they spoke a different language. I do know that it was the faith in God of his family that gave them the strength to come to the States. And as much as I liked being in Wuppertal, I am grateful that they made the journey across the Atlantic because I have been blessed to grow up in the United States.

Wuppertal-Elberfeld: A mouthful for a young boy. An incredible experience for a guy celebrating the roots of his dad.