Chuck Roots
25 September 2017
www.chuckroots.com
Vikings Rule!
What a fun week Isaura and I had in
Huntsville, Alabama with all of our Overseas Brats friends.
Every year there is a reunion of
folks who sometime in the past attended a Department of Defense (DoD) school somewhere
around the world as children of a military parent. They are known as Military
Brats. In 1986, Joe Condrill and several other Brats decided to have a reunion
with those “kids” they had known previously. It has only grown since then as
more Brats are located. To attend such a reunion is a combination of American
history dating back to 1946 and world geography writ large.
Two of the Brats in attendance this
week were in their teens when they traveled to a foreign land with their
parents in 1946. Class sizes in the DoD schools were as small as five kids!
Many of the schools were located on military bases within the United States.
But the places around the world where other schools are located would be a
challenge for the most knowledgeable geography professor. There are 133 schools
represented. Many Brats attended more than one DoD school as kids. Let’s see,
there’s Ankara, Turkey; Bad Aibling, Germany; Bushy Park, London, England;
Chateauroux, France; Dreux, France; Garmisch, Germany; Jonathan M. Wainwright,
Tainan, Taiwan; Kaiserslautern, Germany; Kobe, Panama; Lajes, Portugal; Machinato,
Okinawa; Oslo, Norway; Salzburg, Austria; Tehran American School, Iran; Wheelus,
Libya; Yoyogi, Japan; Zaragoza, Spain, to name a few.
The shared experience Brats have
bonds them with each other for life. We may not have attended the same schools
at the same time, but the challenge of being dropped into a new place, often a
new country, language, and culture, causes you to grow in ways you simply could
not experience in any other way. My sister Joy and I attended the junior high
school at the Oslo American School in Oslo, Norway. At the same time, our
brother John, attended high school in Dreux, France.
A different location is chosen each
year for our gathering. Next year we’ll be in Fort Worth, Texas. But I have to
tell you: If you’ve never been to Huntsville, Alabama, you should make every
effort to come here. The people are very friendly, the city is full of history
going back to the Revolutionary War.
Our time each gathering always
includes sight-seeing trips in the local area, which often includes a dinner at
some local eatery.
This year, however, brought a twist
to our local visits. Friday evening, we were to attend a performance at the
Mark C. Smith Concert Hall next door to our hotel. However, plans were changed
because President Trump was arriving in Huntsville to lend support to a
congressman running in a special election, so the concert hall was taken over
for the rally. We heard the anti-Trumpers shouting, and then the pro-Trumpers
shouting down the anti-Trumpers. The place was packed to capacity (seats 5,000),
and there were apparently several thousand more supporters outside. The badges
which were made for us so we could enter the concert hall were stamped:
CANCELLED due to a visit from the President of the United States.
The time we spend together catching
up with each other and what has taken place in the intervening years is
special. We really do feel a sense of family when we come together.
Because those of us who attended the
Oslo American School are known as the Vikings, on the last evening together we
always wear our Viking paraphernalia. I bring out my imitation Viking helmet replete
with horns, plus I wield a plastic, life-sized Hammer of Thor. The twenty of us
representing the school present quite a scene as we arrive all attired in
Nordic costumes. We comprise the largest group from any one school, so Vikings
Rule! But otherwise, we’re harmless.
At the end of three days, there has
been a vast amount of talking and sharing, with promises to see one another
again the next year, Lord willing. It is not at all unusual for tears to flow
as we say goodbye yet again, but leaving having been refreshed by the renewed comraderies.
Many of us are in our twilight
years, so each year together is special. Many of our number are no longer with
us. It is our hope to pass the baton of our reunions to the next generation of
Brats.
For many of us, these were the best
years we experienced growing up. Next August, we’ll drag out our Viking helmets
and Nordic stuff and gleefully descend on Fort Worth, Texas to join the host of
other Brats who are our Brat Family.
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