When I was 15 years old, my mom, sister and I moved to Schweinfurt, Germany, where my mom was to teach school on a US Army base.  This was quite an experience, in fact, I believe it was one of those watershed experiences that changed the course of my life.  The three of us lived "on the economy" meaning that we didn't live on the Army base, but in a small town near the base.  We were the only am Americans in our town known as Weyer (pronounced Vi-er).  We quickly learned how to interact in such a different, but wonderful environment.  The fact is that there are nice people all over the world and we were lucky enough to find them in Germany.  

My high school was over an hour drive from our home and I had to catch a van just to take me to the bus which then took me to Wurzburg, the city where my school was located.  I left home every morning at 6:00.  In the winter time, that meant that it was dark and I was just a tad scared.  Every morning a little old man stood in the entrance way to his home and waited (or it seemed) for me to walk by.  Every morning (without fail) he startled me and I would run to the bus stop. You can see his "location" on my map below.  

On holidays, the Weyer townspeople would visit the cemetery across the street from our little town and light candles in honor of their family or friends.  I could always see the candles during my walk to the bus stop.  We played (mainly watched) pickup ice hockey games on the pond.  No one had skates, but skated on their sneakers.  Sometimes they would use brooms as hockey sticks.  All of these items are noted on my autobiographical map.

I believe that my year spent is Germany directed me on a path toward my future career as a geographer.  We traveled every weekend; I spent Thanksgiving in Amsterdam, Christmas in Paris, Easter skiing in the Alps, just to name a few trips.  It was a wonderful year, a year that Leslie, Mom and I grew to know each other better, and a year that developed a "wanderlust" in me that hasn't been quenched to this day.