Megan Brousseau

First Place Winner ($1500)

Courage

"Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared."

                                                                                                                       Eddie Rickenbacker

           I've shot last minute free-throws in Lady Lions basketball games surrounded by a scream crowd, kicked tie breaking penalty kicks in soccer, and served game winning points in volleyball during the European Division I Championship. I've even discussed controversial medical issues with the Surgeon General of the United State...no problem...but; the thought of play my cello in front of any audience terrifies me.

           The evening I had been dreading for weeks had finally come; tonight was my cello concert. As my dad's blue Volvo bumped along the wet cobblestone streets of Sandhausen, Germany, I was praying that I would suddenly come down with some extremely contagious disease. Twenty minutes ago I had felt at home on the high school soccer field, running through the rain. Now, as I slipped off my muddy shorts and pulled on gray wool slacks in the car, I felt like I was being forced to transform from Mia Hamm to Yo-Yo Ma.

           The synagogue, where the concert was being held, appeared ahead in the village square. Opening the heavy wooden door, I stepped inside the century old building. Twenty chairs were lined up in rows before a small platform on which stood a grand piano and a solitary music stand.

           Back in a cramped practice room I sank gratefully into a chair, willing my stomach to settle, and my hands to steady. Opening my cello case, I withdrew the hundred-year-old instrument that had belonged to my great-grandmother. Nana had begun playing the cello as a teenager in Minnesota. Her Passion and talent led her to a chair in the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

           I wouldn't say that I had inherited any of Nana's natural talent or ability. I have to work really hard to learn the notes, timing, and correct bowing, but playing allows me to develop another dimension of my personality. My friends and teachers all know "Megan the Athlete" who plays volleyball, basketball and soccer, but very few are aware that I can also play Bach and Brendel.

           A harried voice abruptly pulls me from my thoughts. "Megan, Megan, du bist die Naechste!" calls my cello teacher, Frau Lorenz. As panic seizes me, I have to remind myself for the hundredth time why I subject myself to the torment of playing in a recital. Because it's a challenge and I can't let myself back away from a challenge.

           Frau Lorenz, a highly sought-after teacher at the Wiesloch Musik Schule, took me on as her pupil three years ago. Perhaps she needed a challenge in her life too. Her other students seem so advanced and serious. And then...there's me, who typically rushes to my lesson, five minutes late, sweaty from soccer practice, and red hair going every which way. Yet, Frau Lorenz's smiling, round face and twinkling blue eyes always seem happy to see me. Over the years, we have developed a relationship based on mutual respect. We don't always understand each others words because my German falls short of conversational fluency. But we communicate with our hands, faces, and hearts, and through the music. I believe she admires my tenacity and I respect her commitment to me as a less than ideal pupil.

           Sometimes I think that she sees something in me that I don't see in myself. She has taught me to be patient with myself, and I've come to understand that I don't have to be the best at everything -- that I can do things in life just because I enjoy them.

           My cello, bow, and music in hand, I walk down the aisle, past rows of staring eyes, to the stage. With my heart pounding uncontrollable, I place my music on that solitary stand, sit in a wooden chair, and settle the cello against my shoulder. Glancing over to Frau Lorenz for a little courage I lay my bow on the string, and begin to play.

Danielle Moore

Runner Up ($500)

           In the summer of 2002 I experienced my first international move. My family and I traveled 5,000 miles from San Antonio, Texas to Heidelberg, Germany. Although I could already be classified as an "Army Brat," because of previous military-related moves, I had previously lived in San Antonio for eight uninterrupted years, and the change was shocking.

           My first surprise came when I stepped off the airplane and rode from Frankfurt International Airport to my new home. Instead of seeing yellowed grass dying from lack of water, and barren trees juxtaposed against a violently sunny sky, as in San Antonio, I was greeted with a wet, lush countryside, with a sun hiding behind rain clouds. Huge mountains populated by dark coniferous trees " the Black Forest " drifted past us as we cruised down the Autobahn, or Germany highway.

           Other surprises soon followed. Not only was this my first time living overseas, this was my first time living on a military base. My housing area, Patrick Henry Village, or PHV, was enclosed entirely by formidable walls. The only two entrances were guarded with gun-toting service members, barricades, and speed bumps. Also, mirrors were used to search beneath vehicles for bombs. Each time I wished to enter, I had to show my Military identification card to the guards.

           Back in San Antonio, I had dreamily imagined cruising down the Autobahn with the radio thumping and new friends in the car. My dad slammed on the brakes of that fantasy when he informed me that I had to wait nine more months, until my 17^th birthday, to test for a valid license in Germany. Since driving was a recently acquired freedom, it was rather disagreeable having it temporarily revoked.

           Since I was not able to get around by driving, I decided to participate in a program called FLAG, or Families Learning About Germany. The program included trips downtown using the public transportation. I learned how to get around the city using the Strassenbahn, or streetcar. I discovered that saying, "Ich m'hte ein Fahrkarte" would allow me to purchase a ticket. After one particular Strass trip where I ended up lost in an obscure town, I figured it was time to learn how to decipher the nearly-cryptic Strass schedule. With a little help from my German teacher, I learned that they weren't so hard to read after all.

           Although differences between the US and Europe were striking at first, in the long run, moving to Europe has been a wonderful opportunity. I've had the pleasure of experiencing many things that other Americans my age may not have. I've seen the Millennium Tower in Dublin, Ireland also know humorously as the "Stiletto in the Ghetto." I've take a 23-hour buss trip to Spain and swam in the clear, blue, and occasionally jelly-fish infested waters off Costa Brava. I've driven to near-by Strasbourg, France and visited fantastic cathedrals. In London, my favorite city so far, I've strolled down the exciting Piccadilly Circus, ridden in the famous red double-decker buses, and even induced a smile from one of the Queen's Guard as he stood at attention.

           I believe that because of my experiences overseas I am more culturally aware and open-minded to differences among people. I have discovered that although changes can be intimidating, it is also exciting; it is possible to overcome difficult situations in stride.

Alexander Koik-Cestone

Runner Up ($500)

 A Memorable Heidelberg Experience

           Heidelberg has been one of the most diverse and entertaining cities I have visited. Situated in the Neckar River basin, it possesses the menagerie of beauty that cannot be equaled or duplicated anywhere else in the world. The combination of the Br'kenior, the castle overlook, the glistening Neckar River and the winding hills in the background foster an aura that is unique to Heidelberg and Heidelberg alone.

           I have had the fortunate opportunity to walk down Heidelberg's streets a countless number of times. The most recent instance of this was when I decided to walk downtown with some friends on a sunny morning. We decided that a waltz down the Hauptstrasse would be far more relieving ton the mind than a round of burdensome mental debauchery, and thus instantiated our foray, waloking out the doors of the school loudly and proudly.

           Our first worrisome encounter was with the Strassenbahn streetcars that literally devoured half the surface area of most downtown streets. Since waling on the wild side and riding the streetcards without tickets proved disastrous to my comrades in the months before, we decided to simply utilize two-legged transit.

           A large fountain, bustling cars and utter urban mayhem clouded the tranquility inherent in the age-old Heidelberg monuments. We found ourselves often walking beside monolithic statues on our left and rampant commercialism to our right, and paradoxical contrast in a city whose population once consisted of those living in the now-ruined castle overlooking the hillside.

           In an attempt to rid ourselves of the madness inherent in the modern city, we ventured into the hillside. There was a sudden muffling of the obnoxious, ruthless noises and true peace reigned in the forested land unaltered by human meddling. The hill was quite steep, an endeavor amplified by the path's low-traction granite-stone construction and grade. Ignoring all of the negatives, however, we moved on, proceeding up the hill until the ultimate goal was reached: The Castle.

           No notably visible as the earth-toned, partially preserved ruin overlooking the city today, The Castle served as an important command center during medieval times. It survived several sieges before falling into disrepair, but its base structure is still intact and proves an interesting vantage point of not only Heidelberg but the Neckar River basin as a whole. My friends were awed as they looked out and could spot even Mannheim and Worms in the distance.

           After staring in awe and wonder from the great beauty of the overlook, we decided to return to the lower regions of the city. The descent was constructed of the same slippery granite, and gravity was almost too greatly favored by the grade. My friends nearly fell forward into the highly angular abyss of the remaining ruins below, but were saved by happenstance. It was a breathtaking near-Curse-of-the Graveyard experience, experienced by many sieging militaries in the years before as their men and equipment slid down the muddy slopes into their doom. Fortunately, my friends were not in armor.

           After we reached the bottom, we were greeted by a band of individuals who wanted to join us in our downtown endeavors. We decided it would be best to let them be -- and leave the taste of the old German beer to ourselves. After the period of enjoyment elapsed, we sat and watched the houseboats' lights come aglow and the sun disappear simultaneously, an eerie effect amplified by the prevailing, looming castle aglow in the distance.

           My Heidelberg experience is a lasting memory, as its uniqueness is unbounded. I cannot quite yet equate any historical visit with the level of involvement and commonality that is Heidelberg, where the old stands with the new. Had I not ever journeyed into the innards of this great city, I would have never been able to appreciate its splendor and historic beauty. I has affected me profoundly by reinforcing in my mind the need to maintain and retore historical monuments, no matter how modernized the area around them becomes.

Michelle Orencia

Runner Up ($500)

           Moving, although initally a terrifying and traumatizing event, can turn out to be an enriching experience. If a person can suppress the initial fear of the unknown, then that person would grow stronger through new opportunities as well as schange. I achieved certain strengths through the help of my family and through my ability to overcome emotional obstacles. I have learned from such occurrences this past year, during my move from Hohenfels to Heidelberg, Germany.

           I first arrived to Hohenfels during the dawn of my middle school career. Although frightened and irritated with yet another disruption in my life, I did not have much to lose during my transition and willingly chose to partake in the adventure. However, I soon discovered that Hohenfels was a pitiful base with a mere population of a thousand people. The nearest shopping center existed about an hour from home, and I resided in a quiet German town twenty minutes away from the school. Suddenly, a sense of disapproval immerged from the curiousity I had towards my new home. Still, I had other opportunities lying ahead of me that I failed to acknowledge.

           Towareds the end of my first year, my disapproval gradually vanished. I grew to embrace the town where our three-story house was located. My grades exceeded my expectation, and I participated in many sports victories that will be remembered through the shcool's history, A couple more years flew by, and I developed a sense of complacency towards Hohenfels. I felt that a wish came true when I found a place where I could grow up without saying goodbye every three years. My junior year came with the confidence that my high school career would blissfully end at the school of my dreams. My blissful lifestyle, however, came to an abrupt end when my father informed me of a job offer he had accepted in Heidelberg. At that moment, I knew I had to let go of all that I possessed and learned during that time. The swiftness of the news felt like a stab in the heart, but I tried to live each day as if I were not perturbed by my fate.

           As the days and months drew closer to the end of my junior year, I felt a shadow lingering in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the day I would have to say goodbye. The one summer day, during the last day of school, I lost it all. Unwillingly, I had to let go of my friends, my boyfriend, my home and the school that I loved. I presumed I would eventually overcome my sadness, but I unreasonable held on to the belief that one day I would wake up and find my life back to the way it was. Day after day, I sheltered and buried myself in my depression. Eventually, my desolation turned into self-pity that I feared would never fade. My parents' concern finally took a hold of them and they tried in their strength to bring me back to reality. They spoke to me of their troubles as well, and I realized I was not alone. Their love and support lifted me a little higher, but I remained disheartened for my losses. Nonetheless, just like my move to Hohenfels, I forgot to be open minded for changes.

           I traveled to Heidelberg with a heavy heart, but I surprisingly discovered that it was my transition to Heidelberg that helped me overcome my depression. I remained busy throughout the rest of the summer vacation, trying to settle into my new environment and I soon grew accustomed to the city life. The majestic view of the castle on the hills, the shopping area downtown and the neighboring cities made me realize that Heidelberg truly is a historic and beautiful place. School started and I suddenly fell in love with my new home even more so than Hohenfels. My fear turned into the motivation that pushed my progress during class, practice and life. With all the activity going on around me, I never felt more alive.

           I moved to Heidelberg with the fear that I would never be happy. However, I learned that iwas my fear that prevented me from focusing clearly, which blocked happiness from my view. I learned that if I express an open mind and find courage through my strength, I can overcome any obstacle that lies ahead in the future. Through my experiences in Heidelberg, I have discovered that while nothing is for certain, everything happens for the best. I only get one year in Heidelberg, but in that one year, I grew up.

Jacob Boals '79

From his sister, Vera: "I don't mind talking about Jacob. He was 4 years younger than me, so he would have been in 8th Grade, but got permission to join the Science Club at the high school with Jim Buckingham and a few of the other kids who were interested.

After we left Heidelberg, he lived with our parents at Fort Knox, and graduated in 1979 from Fort Knox High School. Attended Berea College in Kentucky, and then did some graduate work at Tulane (sp?) in their Theater program. He worked as an Emergency Medical Tech in El Paso for a year, and then joined the Navy, became a corpsman and when he died he was an E-5, stationed at Portsmouth Naval Hospital.

He was a very active member of the Society of Creative Anachronisms, and he and his wife had been selected to be the "Baron and Baroness" of his local organization. If anyone is interested in reading it, just before his death, he wrote the most entertaining autobiography of his persona in the SCA, and as I read it, I recognized our family, despite the transpostion in time and situation.

Jacob M. Boals was born September 5, 1963 in Regensburg, W. Germany and died July 14, 1996 in Norfolk, Virginia. He is buried in the family plot with a military headstone in Southern Illinois.

ELEANOR FULLER, Teacher

DoDDS-E regrets to announce that longtime DoDDS teacher and guidance counselor, Eleanor Fuller, passed away November 22, 2004 in Greensboro, NC. She died after heart surgery to repair her aorta.

Eleanor was born in Jersey City, New Jersey, on May 28, 1940. She graduated from Trenton State College with a B.A. degree in Elementary Education in 1962.

She taught three years in the New Jersey schools before going overseas with DODDS. Her first assignment was teaching 1st and 2nd grade in the Nuernburg Elementary School from 1965 to 1970. During that time she met and married Jake Fuller, a social studies and PE teacher at Nuernberg High School.

In September 1970 the Fullers moved to Heidelberg where Eleanor taught at Patrick Henry Village Elementary School for 3 years before leaving to adopt their only child, daughter Beth Fuller. Shortly thereafter she made an emergency trip to Houston to have open heart surgery with a valve replacement. She also completed her M.A. degree in counseling from Boston University. She returned to DODDS as the Mark Twain Village Elementary School Counselor in the late 1970s. Eleanor retired in August 2000. She settled in Greensboro, North Carolina, and traveled a great deal with her husband. She loved to read and attend plays and musical events.

Survivors include her husband Jake Fuller, a DODDS retiree, her daughter Beth Ruby who grew up in the DODDS system, three grandchildren, her sister Muriel Prevatt, and several nieces and nephews. Eleanor will be sorely missed by colleagues and friends all over the States and the world. Her life touched hundreds of children as she advocated for them both academically and emotionally. One of her friends aptly summed up her special personality by calling her "one of those persons who makes you feel more alive just to be around her."

Charities mentioned by the family were the American Heart Assn. and the American Cancer Assn. since she was a breast cancer survivor. For those wishing to send their condolences, Jake's address is 2118 Three Meadows, Greensboro, NC 27455

Vera Boals '75

veraboals@yahoo.com

After I graduated HAHS, I attended Reed College in Portland, Oregon. As the only Army Brat, I developed quite a reputation for being a conservative (pretty funny, considering all of my conservative friends think I'm hopelessly liberal!). I wrote a Thesis on Military Law. I was offered a Graduate Assistantship at Texas A&M in College Station, Texas, and I attended for one year. I soon discovered that one can't live on $420 per month, even in Texas and at school, and ran away from Grad School to join the Army.

I went to basic trainiing at Fort Dix, NJ, where Fred Carr's folks took pity on me, and acted as my family away from family. Finished basic training and went straigt to Officer Candidate School at Fort Benning, Georgia. I was commissioned in Ordnance in 1981, and changed over to Transportation in 1982. I was stationed at Fort Knox, Kentucky; Seoul, Korea, Zweibruecken, Germany (Near K-Town), Yokohama, Japan and Fort Lewis, Washington. I was involved in the Haitian Relief effort at Guantanamo Bay, and Hurricane Andrew Relief in Miami, Florida.

Iwas married in 1984 to Peter Bustrum, also a military officer, and divorced in 2004. After the divorce, and the division of the spoils, I had enough left to move to Southern New Hampshire, buy a house, and reacquaint myself with my high school friends from when we were stationed here in the early 70s.

 My parents are still living in Radcliff, Kentucky, where they have been since they returned to Conus from Heidelberg. My younger brother Frank is married with two grown children, and living in Maryland, working for the US Navy. My youngest brother, Jacob, who some of you may remember from the Science Club, died in 1996.

 I am currently redecorating my home (a friend likens it to a cat marking territory), and looking for work.

 I have four cats, all of whom claim loudly that I am starving them to death, and I'm sure that one of them believes that I personally and maliciously killed the summer, since when I put him in the box in Washington it was nice and warm, and when I let him out, there was nasty wet stuff on the ground...occasionally, I catch them looking at me with suspicious eyes as if they are wondering what else I can freeze!

 What I miss most about Heidelber is goulasch suppe and erdbeer torte. I lost 20 pounds when I left Germany, and I'd gladly gain them back if I could have just one serving of each, while watching the "burning of the castle" and hanging with Lynn Harbor at the Gasthaus.