tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post5871721097529039548..comments2024-03-17T10:14:28.208+01:00Comments on Interim arrangements: Sabinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09015827501648296977noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-18916717350703181872017-01-25T21:54:13.241+01:002017-01-25T21:54:13.241+01:00That they're all dead but he reminds me of the...That they're all dead but he reminds me of the opening of "The Dead Poet's Society."Snowbrushhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-50960621094750526812017-01-18T18:11:52.619+01:002017-01-18T18:11:52.619+01:00what an a amazing photo with so much historywhat an a amazing photo with so much historyCrafty Green Poethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02486633917197181851noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-49251333347026882512017-01-18T15:29:26.731+01:002017-01-18T15:29:26.731+01:00wow. it's good you rescued those photographs. ...wow. it's good you rescued those photographs. they are historical treasures.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-49996170404920612412017-01-17T21:44:08.240+01:002017-01-17T21:44:08.240+01:00Sad times, indeed. Sad times, indeed. Zhoenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03515663141425057088noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-33626262226168168422017-01-17T11:23:34.907+01:002017-01-17T11:23:34.907+01:00I love this -- the collective tragedies of a time ...I love this -- the collective tragedies of a time and place, and the individual experiences contained within. That's a terrific photo.Steve Reedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11684120060438252945noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-64884897190910881022017-01-17T06:40:08.962+01:002017-01-17T06:40:08.962+01:00This particular one left me breathless and greedy ...This particular one left me breathless and greedy for more.Elizabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03313726816776097840noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-48582708444493275912017-01-17T04:49:29.815+01:002017-01-17T04:49:29.815+01:00Another great old photo...To gather the different ...Another great old photo...To gather the different paths these boys took through life after their school closed would make fascinating reading! mollyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03797484583400519909noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-35464559508244824392017-01-16T21:46:27.361+01:002017-01-16T21:46:27.361+01:00The photos you share continue to engage me in a wa...The photos you share continue to engage me in a way I can't really explain. With this one, though, I am reminded of the school boys in All The Light We Cannot See. Your father's best friend has a sprightly look to him in the moment that the photo was taken. I'm wondering if that light stayed with him through life. The expression on your father's face matches so much of what you have written about him currently. No wonder he almost cried when his old friend died. Just noticed that the expression on your father's face and that of the teacher are similar, unlike the expressions of the other boys. Imagining your father consciously or unconsciously emulating his teacher. Had not heard the word "Mitläufer" before. You have filled in so many of the blanks in my knowledge of German history.amhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09212213177713917828noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-84057371921209754372017-01-16T21:14:40.215+01:002017-01-16T21:14:40.215+01:00I dare say, back then a classical education was th...I dare say, back then a classical education was the only education. Colettehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13929646037752189809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-9885834181328492722017-01-16T19:14:04.214+01:002017-01-16T19:14:04.214+01:00There is something about the look of your father t...There is something about the look of your father that makes me think he might have survived the longest. <br />Wonderful photo, but oh - those cold little legs.livhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00091094639074377780noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-63464700019767043432017-01-16T18:40:18.432+01:002017-01-16T18:40:18.432+01:00Hello and welcome RR,
indeed, the irony, how come...Hello and welcome RR,<br /><br />indeed, the irony, how come this old teacher stuck to his curriculum? After all, learned historians tell us repeatedly that Germany was pretty much a nation of "Mitläufer" to the end. Whereas small town life often was different to the bigger cities - my mother was in Berlin, quite a contrast to sleepy Franconia. <br />But thanks to it and the fact that the science teachers had long left for the front, there was that classroom of young boys reading Homer and Plato. My father's life has been hugely influenced by it to this day and I owe this old teacher in the picture above more than I dared to admit for many years. Sabinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09015827501648296977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-92151717337642874642017-01-16T17:44:56.858+01:002017-01-16T17:44:56.858+01:00The sheer irony of someone teaching classics, rhet...The sheer irony of someone teaching classics, rhetoric, logic and debating in northern Bavaria in 1943. I've just read a very detailed book about the last few weeks in Germany prior to surrender (Title and author forgotten, due you might say to the usual suspect); it attempts to characterise the national state of mind (states I should say since there were broadly two) and it encourages a distinct sense of unease in my mind. Just suppose... I flirt with the horror of changed places since I lived through the war and would have been eight when this photo was taken; younger I suppose than the kids here but then they all look so formal and, not surprisingly, serious. No, I decide I don't want to go there.<br /><br />On January 15 you talk about "another whiny post". Since this is my first visit to Interim Arrangements, an admirably sardonic title, I've skipped back and dipped into what you've written over the last week or so. Received wisdom says that talking about one's ailments is a turn-off and will discourage readers but somehow you appear to refute this, as far as I'm concerned anyway. But how? There's a sharpness, a briskness, an avoidance of cliché, a love of short sentences. In terms of my old trade "there's nothing to sub". <br /><br />Writing can't do anything about the pain but it sort of personalises the battle. Keep on trucking.Roderick Robinsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-44309278791376994212017-01-16T16:22:20.275+01:002017-01-16T16:22:20.275+01:00Another incredible photo. Such a piece of history ...Another incredible photo. Such a piece of history on the back steps of school. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-41353367167791096182017-01-16T14:41:37.470+01:002017-01-16T14:41:37.470+01:00"...almost cried...""...almost cried..."<br />Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-28185873793046884482017-01-16T11:53:23.922+01:002017-01-16T11:53:23.922+01:00Precious history!Precious history!Ahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06318174928862120631noreply@blogger.com