The Race
One day when we were on our way to the part-time home Sander went ahead of me. He said that we were having a race. I called and told him to wait up for me, but he just kept going. I didn’t want him to get upset with me so I did all I could to keep up. In my efforts, I slid into some gravel and scraped up both my knees and the side of my face. It hurt so I sat down and cried. Finally, Sander came back to see what was taking me so long. I thought he would be mad at me. To my surprise when he saw I was hurt he walked side by side with me. It was hard for me to walk and since our apartment was closer than the Part-Time Home Sander said we should go home.
When we got home Sander lifted me up on the counter and cleaned out my wounds with alcohol and then he put Band-Aids on my scrapes. I was surprised by how he took care of me, and I was grateful he showed me compassion. I wished it could always be like this between us.
I was sent away to camp along with some other kids who belonged to the same daycare I went to. It was summer and we were at the camp for three weeks. On the last day we were there the teachers told us we all had to take off our clothes and get into the showers. We were all a little uncomfortable since we were boys and girls mixed, between the ages of eight through twelve. The teachers assured us it was okay and that we had to hurry because the bus was waiting, so we did. Even though it felt extremely awkward to me, it must be okay since everyone else was doing it. I learned this was just how it was in Denmark and I became accustomed to it.
Fall 1968
Now that Sander and I had a key to the house, Mom figured we were old enough to watch ourselves in the evenings when she had school or other plans. We both hated being left home alone. We didn’t mind when it was light outside, but when it started to get dark we would get scared. If we had to go to the bathroom we would have to go down a long, dark hall. Whenever we went to the bathroom we went together.
One day, just for fun, I said to Sander, “I think I see a man at the end of the hall!” I was going to laugh and tell him I was kidding, but I didn’t get a chance to tell him because he started to cry. I got scared because I realized, if he was scared who would take care of us if there really was a man hiding at the end of the hall? We both ended up crying as we hid under a blanket until we fell asleep.
Other times when we were left alone we passed the time by watching T.V. until we fell asleep. We only had one channel. It always had boring stuff like politics, sports, or other things for adults. Once a week there was a show on television called Sherlock Homes. We wanted to watch it but every time it came on it started out with scary music and wolves howling. Sander would hurry and turn off the T.V. and we would once again hide under a blanket together and stayed there until we fell asleep.
Since there was hardly ever anything good on T.V. we got bored. We would try to play together. I wanted Sander to play house with me and my doll. Sander said that was a stupid idea. He would insist we play cars together. I told him I didn’t want to play with his cars. Sander agreed if I would play cars with him for a little bit, then he would play house with me. While we were playing with his cars he would complain the whole time. He said I didn’t know how to play right. When he got tired of playing cars, Sander said he had changed his mind about playing house with me. I fell for this more than once because each time he would promise to keep his end of the bargain and every time I would believe him, hoping that this time he would be honest with me.
Instead of Sander playing house with me he grabbed my doll and started banging her into the wall, while he would shout, “See it’s not crying! It is not real!” I hated it when he would start hurting my doll.
I wanted so much to be able to play with Sander when we were left home alone. I would try really hard to play how he asked me to. But often he would end up getting mad at something I had done, and he would hit me. He said I just couldn’t do anything right because I was stupid. This made me doubt myself. I wished I was cool and smart like him. I wanted so much for Sander to like me and be proud of me.
One day while Sander and I were home alone, he got into the top cupboard in the hall. Sander was using a ladder so he could reach the high shelf. I asked him what he was doing. He answered excitedly, “Look at all this stuff,” as he pulled out all kinds of Christmas decorations. It looked interesting. As I was about to climb the ladder to get a closer look, Mom came home from work. She got extremely upset when she saw what we were up to. She started to yell.
Sander was standing on top of the ladder trying frantically to put everything back. Mom stormed up the other side of the ladder and then she slammed the cupboard door shut. Sander tried to pull back his hand, but it was too late. His thumb got smashed and he began to cry. He was in a lot of pain. When he got off the ladder we looked at his thumb to see how bad it was. His nail was crushed into pieces.
Mom knew she needed to get him medical help. The hospital was close by so we rode our bikes. Mom didn’t want Sander to tell the doctor that she had slammed the door on his thumb. Mom made up a lie about how it got smashed. All the way to the hospital Mom rehearsed the story with him. Sander started to question why he couldn’t just tell the truth. Mom asked, “You don’t want Mom to go to jail do you?” Mom then continued to go over the story with him.
When we got to the emergency room the doctor looked at his thumb. As planned, Sander told the lie that he and Mom had rehearsed. The doctor numbed Sander’s finger so the pieces of broken nail could be removed. When the job was done, the doctor wrapped it up.
When we got back home, Mom told Sander how proud she was of him for telling the story she had made up. She was relieved the doctor seemed to believe it.
December 24, 1968
Mom invited her brother, Ole, with his wife Jytte and their two children, Linda and Peter, and Grandma Helfred to come to spend Christmas Eve with us. While Mom and Grandma were in the kitchen cooking, Sander and I were filled with excitement for Uncle Ole and his family to come so that we could eat dinner and then open presents.
While we were waiting, Sander said to me, “Let’s play a game.” I asked, “Okay, what do you want to play?” Sander responded, “Look at the different foods on the table. You have to close your eyes and open your mouth. I will pick one thing off the table and put it into your mouth, and then you have to guess what it was I gave you.” I said, “Okay, I will play, but only if you don’t put the pepper in my mouth.” Sander promised he wouldn’t. I trusted him so I closed my eyes. Sander put some sugar on a spoon and put it in my mouth. I guessed it was sugar. Then it was my turn to put something into his mouth. Sander sternly said, “Don’t give me the pepper!” I assured him I wouldn’t do that. Then I gave him some sugar too. It was Sander’s turn again, this time he insisted that I close my eyes, open my mouth really wide, and tilt my head back. He shook the sugar container, making me think he was going to give me sugar again. Sander had screwed the cap off the pepper container and he poured as much of the pepper as he could down my throat. It burned all the way down and I was having a very difficult time breathing while Sander was laughing mulishly. I ran to the bathroom so I could spit out the pepper. When I had washed out my mouth, I began to cry. Mom wanted to know what was wrong. I told her what had just happened. Then Mom shouted at me, “Stop crying, it’s almost time for dinner!” She didn’t say one word to Sander. I did all I could to pretend I was fine so that Mom wouldn’t yell at me again. I felt sick from the pepper, so I didn’t eat much. What I did eat, didn’t taste good.
That Christmas Eve was hard for me to enjoy. To make it worse every time Sander looked at me he would break into laughter. I don’t understand how making someone else feel so miserable could be funny.
When I was about 40 years old I asked Sander why he poured the pepper down my throat. I thought perhaps he would apologize. Instead, he broke into laughter all over again and acted like he was so proud of himself. For as long as I live I will never understand him. To this day I have never put pepper on anything I eat.
Saturday, February 1969
It was Fastalavn. This holiday is similar to the American Halloween. In Denmark, the children went from door to door. Instead of getting candy, we got coins. You knock on doors and instead of saying, Trick or Treat we sing a song called Fastalavn Er Mit Navn. In English, it means Fastalavn is My Name. We would begin at about 9:00 a.m. going from door to door and end at noon. When Sander and I got up on this day we were excited to get dressed up and get going.
We went to wake Mom up so that she could help us get ready. Mom said she didn’t feel good and stayed in bed. Sander and I put on whatever we could find to make ourselves look like we were dressed up. Before I went out the door I grabbed my pig that I collected coins in. I showed it to Mom and said, “See this pig? It’s going to be full by the time I get back.” Then off we went door to door. Sander said I was going too slow, so he ran off with his friend, leaving me by myself.
I didn’t like going by myself. I was frightened, but I wanted money. I had decided that I was going to buy Mom a gift, something to help her feel better. I tried to go as fast as I could so that I could get the most money possible before the clock struck twelve.
When it was time to stop, I went down to the curb and counted up the money I had collected. Then I walked to the store. When I got there, I looked around forever, trying to find just the right thing for Mom. I spotted a glass bottle of milk it said “Milk, it’s Good!” I thought if Mom drank it, she would feel better. I bought the bottle and headed for home.
When I got home, I rang the doorbell. I held up the bottle of milk while I waited for Mom to come to the door. I said, “Mom, this milk is for you, to help you feel better”. Mom laughed as she grabbed the milk. I hoped she would like it because it cost me almost all the money I had collected that day.
Summer 1969
For Mom’s summer vacation, she had planned to go with Bent to visit his parents in Skive. Sander and I were sent to a summer camp with the Part-Time-Home, for three weeks. The camp was on an island in Denmark called Bornholm. When it was time for bed we all slept in one large room that had lots of bunk beds in it.
I had always sucked my fingers to help me fall asleep or to help me feel better. I was afraid someone would find out so I waited till I thought everyone was asleep. Even though it was hard to wait it out, I managed to do it the first few nights. It got harder and harder and I fell asleep waiting. I was surprised to realize I could fall asleep without sucking my fingers. When I got home from the camp, I decided it was time for me to give up this habit altogether.
While we were there I turned eight. On this day the workers had everyone stand around the Danish flag and sing Happy Birthday to me. Then one of the workers handed me a present from Mom and the rest of the day was just like any other day at camp.
The teachers told us we would be having an Indian party on the last evening of our camp. We colored paper costumes to get ready for this special night. The teachers talked about our preparations so much that we were filled with excitement.
When the time for the party arrived we put on our homemade paper costumes. As we sat around the campfire the workers handed us each a cup. They told us it was an Indian potion. I tasted it, but I didn’t like it, so I never drank the rest of it. Neither did most of the other kids who were there. Sander and another boy instantly took a liking to it. They walked around the campfire asking each child if they could have their drink. When Sander and the other boy had drank everyone’s drink they still wanted more. One of the workers said if they wanted more they would have to go see the Indian Chief. The Chief was one of the counselors who also dressed up as an Indian.
The Chief gave Sander and the other boy as much as they wanted to drink. As the evening went on, all the workers and Sander and his friend were having a good time drinking. They all started to act silly. Then all of a sudden Sander and his friend passed out on the ground. I tried to talk to Sander, but he was in a deep sleep. I got worried so I asked one of the workers what was wrong with Sander and his friend. Most of the workers just laughed and then one of the grownups said to me, “Oh, they just need to sleep it off. They will be okay in the morning.” It wasn’t until I became an adult I realized this “Indian drink” must have been alcohol.
The last day we were at camp the workers told us that the bus was there to pick us up. We were told to hurry and take a shower. I asked one of the workers why we needed to hurry and why we just couldn’t forget about taking a shower. He told me it was because we had not had a bath in the three weeks we had been at camp. He said, “If your parents find out they will not be very happy.”
Since the bus was waiting for us, the teachers told us this was no time to be shy, so we all had to get undressed and go into the shower together. There was a room with about four showerheads in it, and we were all herded in there. The workers watched to make sure we washed. I think we were all embarrassed to be naked in front of everyone else. Boys and girls, ages seven through twelve, were mixed together for this group shower. Even though it felt wrong, this was just how it was growing up in Denmark.
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