From The Dubois County Daily Herald
December 19, 1950

HARK THE HERALD

Freiburg and Reute
by A. T. Rumbach

At last we were approaching Freiburg.   Although I have never been there and had never seen any of the people whom we were to meet there, I had somewhat of the feeling I have already described – when we steamed into the harbor at New York.   (Fred Rumbach had visited here in the summer of 1922.)

At least here we were to be met and greeted by someone who had more than a commercial interest in our arrival.   So, when we stepped from the train platform we were greeted heartily by our cousin (she called us “uncle”) Frau Klara Hettich (nee Rumbach).   The fact that she was there alone was soon accounted for.   Her auto, which stood nearby was a Mercedes of the midget variety so common in Europe, which barely accommodated me and our four pieces of baggage in the back seat, and Fred and our hostess in front.

The prevalence of the midget car is due, of course, to the scarcity and high price of gasoline and tires in Europe – purely an economy measure and aside from the limited room they afford, they give excellent service.

Here, for the first time, we saw the first evidence of pattern bombing.   Although Freiburg was hit only once by airmen, and then only for a period of about twenty minutes, the destruction to a considerable part of the city, was terrific.   The ruins were still quite apparent, although the industrious and thrifty burghers have availed themselves both of time since the end of the hostilities and of Marshall-plan dollars to rebuild and repair much of the damage.

The greatest progress was noted in the reconstruction of the great Freiburg hospital and clinic, a part of the Freiburg University School of Medicine, which was completely destroyed in the air-blitz.   The original hospital consisted of seven units.   Our first stop in Freiburg was at one of the four reconstructed units, where a cousin, George Rumbach, was presently a patient.   George is one of the best known men around the hospital, being attached to it as a professional blood donor.

George is the possessor of an abundance of a rare type of blood, adaptable to almost any need in transfusions.   When he told us the number of times he has given blood, we thought he was grossly exaggerating, but he later produced the records authenticated by hospital officials showing that he had shared the life-giving fluid 925 times.   He is now well advanced in years but expects to run his grand total over one thousand.   His case has been the subject of articles in medical journals and has frequently been written up in the public press.

After a snack of excellent cheese and brown beer (cellar cold) at the “Paradies” we left Freiburg for our final destination, Reute, about eight miles to the north.   As we glided over the well-paved highway, we viewed with interest the evergreen clad hills of the Black Forest (the Schwarzwald) which girds the city on three sides.   Our hostess pointed out to us the well known peaks of the Schwarzwald, visible for miles and miles – the Feldberg, the Kendel, the Kaiserstuhl and others, landmarks for the surrounding countryside.

As so engrossed, we spun past the state forest and the Reute Sport Platz and the way-side crucifix into the old home-town of Reute itself with its quaint, red tile roofed houses that have accumulated seams of moss through the ages.   Here and there four-wheeled carts loaded with sacks of potatoes and a sheaf of green fodder for the cows which drew the vehicles, were returning from the nearby “acres” as the sun was sinking towards the horizon. The men and women, walking alongside the carts, waved a friendly greeting as we passed them.   A flock of geese fluttered out of the Dorfbach (the village stream) and single-filed with proud heads held high to their respective homes.

Just as we drew up in front of the picturesque home of our hostess, which also houses her bakery and store, the Dorf-Bote (town-crier) stepped from his bicycle, rang a hand-bell and read an announcement issued by the Burger-meister (mayor).   Here, indeed, time had stood still for three-quarters of a century – for everything seemed to be just as it was graphically described by the colony of Reuters who left their homes in the early eighties to make their home in far-away Indiana.