Our Cup Runneth Over: Our Story for Our Children and Their Children

© 2013 by Herbert and Carolyn Krause. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/13/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1294-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1292-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1293-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013902687

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Part 1 Papa’s Story

Childhood in Germany

The Reality of War

A New Start

Part 2 Nana’s Story

Part 3 Letters, Documents, and Moments to Remember

Our Fiftieth Anniversary

Anniversary Letters from Our Children and Grandchildren

A Few Things We’d Like You to Know

Letters Dear to Us

Speeches and Eulogies

Family and Friends’ Recipes

Kids’ Projects to Us

Biographical Summary of Carolyn and Herb

Carolyn Starr Hitchcock’s Relationship to Henry II

First, I must dedicate this book to my husband. We share a bond too deep for words and a friendship that is very special. It feels so good to know you are always there for me, whatever the circumstances. Moments we spend together talking, laughing, and listening have made our years special and have given me a treasured gift of memories I cherish. We have been through everything, side by side, revealing strengths we didn’t even know we had. What really makes our marriage so special is your sacrifice, faithfulness, strength, and love. Though the years will bring changes, you will always be first in my heart. You are the sunshine in my life, the hero in my world.

I also dedicate this book to my children, grandchildren, and all the future generations I may not meet.

Acknowledgments

(These are letters my granddaughter and I exchanged after I finished the book. I couldn’t have done it without her.)

To my dear, sweet granddaughter,

I know you will be just as happy as I am when this book is finished. I cannot thank you enough for your help in making this book possible for our family. Just think… someday your children and even your great-grandchildren will be reading this book. I hope you will be writing about your life and hopefully many very happy memories… and only a few sad ones.

When I decided to write this book exactly two years ago (yes, it has been that long), it was really Papa’s story of his flight from Ost Prussia as a child during World War II. It was a story to be passed down for future generations that may not know him or our family. You said to me, Nana, don’t you have a story? Weren’t you a little girl once? Why shouldn’t you tell yours? So I thought, Why not?

Kara, you have a wonderful ability to put words on paper. I wrote the whole story, but you made it come alive. Papa and I could feel Omi whispering in your ear, letting you know how she felt during the long flight. I could almost see her when the only shoes she had were burned up on the stove… and her deciding to take the pair off the dead soldier, knowing he would never need them again. I can almost hear the wagon, filled with Omi’s most precious things, roll over the frozen, icy ocean as the family was escaping. Could you imagine the fear she had when the soldier had her in a lineup to be executed immediately for taking an old piece of farm equipment that would never be used?

It all became real when your hands hit the keyboard. Thank you again.

Love,

Nana

***

Dearest Nana,

I am so grateful for the opportunity to help you with writing this book. Granted, I thought it would be a lot easier when I agreed, but either way, I would do it all again. I know that there were a few times you probably wanted to lock me in the office for fear it would be a month before I would come to work again, but I am glad you put up with me. Sometimes your computer illiteracy would make my mind boggle in disbelief, but look at us now. We are done with the book, and we are on great terms. Did you ever think you would see the day?

Regardless of all the little struggles of working together, the memories and stories we shared from writing this book are something I will never forget. There was nothing like listening to Papa tell me his story, and there was nothing like getting to hear your story and how amazing you were and still are. One of my favorite experiences while I was writing this book was seeing you as the human being, the real person you are outside of being Nana. You always made me laugh. You always listened to me without judgment, and you always loved me even when I told you my secrets, which could have given you a heart attack. I love you for who you are as my Nana and as a human being. Both you and Papa are such beautiful people with beautiful souls, and you continue to inspire me.

Deep in my heart will always live the memories and moments we created while we were writing this book. Just like your title says, you will always live on because I will always remember you and Papa… and your beautiful stories.

With much love,

Kara Ashley

(Your Brown Baby)

Part 1

Papa’s Story

It was January 27, 1945, and we had finally gotten word that it was time to flee. I was ten years old, still too young to understand that the war was here. Having no fear, I would play war as if it was just another afternoon with toy soldiers and my imagination. The German Army, in retreat, would not be here to save us as Hitler promised. Sixteen miles away, the Russian sounds of victory and gunshots were creeping closer. In our minds, we were doomed either way. If we were to escape the Russian invasion, our own government promised that we would be shot. The Russians and the Germans, war enemies, would both blow the same fatal wound to our lives: death to stay or death to leave? Because of this dilemma, we waited until the very last minute, until it was almost too late, when the Russian Army’s gunshots were echoing only a few miles from our home. Escaping from the Russians, my life and destiny would be forever changed by the decision of my family to flee.

Opa, my grandfather, influenced by seeing all the others fleeing Germany, had built a wagon so that if the day came, we would be ready to pick up and leave. All eleven of us, Mutti and Papa, Opa and Oma, my eight-year-old younger sister, Inge, and I, my aunt, Annie, with her husband, Harry, and their three children, Harry, Annie, and Freddy, were about to leave everything we knew and loved in hopes to find a future with a new and safe beginning. We stuffed our lives into that wagon: food, bedding, and important papers. Not only did we have to bring the necessities for the family, but we also had to provide for the horses. We bravely left our home, not knowing how long we would be gone. As we walked farther from the house, that life drifted into a memory and dream, as none of us ever saw it again.

We were preparing to leave when those horses bolted out of driveway, carrying the precious cargo of food, but more importantly, my sister, Inge, and my Oma. Everyone stared in disbelief as they watched those two lives dangle by the thread of fate. First, there was a sharp left, and next came a sharp right. And at the last turn, they headed straight for a tree into our neighbor’s driveway. Helplessly, everyone stood paralyzed, almost knowing that this accident must have left the passengers dead. Miraculously, Oma and Inge crawled out from under the wreckage, only injured by small scrapes and bruises. A breath of relief rushed out of everyone’s lungs. We were all safe, but only for the moment. This was not beginning of our story, and it definitely was not the end.

Childhood in Germany

The days, years, and lives before the escape from the Russian invasion were full of innocence. Even though the details escape my mind, I can still vividly feel the love and safety that was my life. Loving and honest, my mother and father raised me in the light and truth of love. Without that bond, our family could have been torn apart.

I was born January 18, 1935, in a little village called Saukenhof in East Prussia, to my parents, Erna and Fritz Krause. Together, they were the epitome of an ideal parenting team. My father, Fritz Krause, was the stricter of my parents. In no way was his strict style a demeaning aspect of his personality. Through his tough but caring example, I learned how to become responsible for my actions, and as a result, I became the man I am today. How can a person become polished if they avoid the rubs of hardship? This lesson would mold me into the person I was meant to be. My mother, Erna Krause, was a loving, gentle, nurturing mother. Her nature was sweet, just like honey. Even though her personality was so sweet, she had an inner strength that radiated like a goddess. Whenever the world around us was falling apart, her strength and resilience held it together so perfectly that I often never noticed anything was wrong.

Omi Krause

Oma and Opa Krause

Papa was a nurseryman, seemingly because of genetic inheritance. His father, Gustav Krause, and his grandfather were also in the nursery business. As all Germans must do, he had to choose to either attend college or enroll in a study program and learn a trade. He chose to pursue the study program and become a nurseryman just like his father and grandfather had. After he became a master nurseryman, God’s plan was quietly unfolding as he went to work on a very large estate in Ost Prussia, where Mutti had found a job while she was pursuing her cooking and housekeeping on the same estate. Their simple, separate decisions undoubtedly fused their fates for a life together.

Fredrick Karl Phillips and Minna Dorothy Schoett brought my mother into this world. Mutti’s mother died when she was only three years old, and only five of the twelve children made it to adulthood—the oldest being Ernst, then Paul, Lotte, Hans, and my mutti, Erna Phillips. My mother experienced one of the most tragic events a daughter could encounter, losing a mother. But I believe this event shaped her so that she was able to be strong and loving enough to raise my sister and me. Opa, Fredrick Karl Phillips, became a widower and was left alone to raise the children. I remember Mutti telling me a story of when she was a little girl. Her older brothers wanted to go out and play, but they encountered a dilemma. Should they go play and leave Mutti to get into trouble or miss out on the fun to stay and watch her? She was only three at the time, so they came up with a solution to both problems. They decided that they would tie her to a chair and leave her stuck while they went out to play. Opa came home and was furious to find Mutti tied up in the chair, and all the boys consequently got whippings. Opa then decided it was too much to leave little Mutti with the other children, so he had Mutti’s older cousin care for her.

Erna as a Child

Erna and Friends

Mutti grew up and decided to work by cooking and tending to the housekeeping on a very large estate in Ost Prussia. When she started working there, she found her eyes attracted to the new handsome grower, who happened to be Papa. One Saturday, a day off for most of the employees, Papa had a lot of planting to do. Mutti offered to help, and as the flowers bloomed, so did their romance. I don’t know the exact amount of time that they knew each other, but it must have been two or three years before they got married on November 14, 1931. It was the beginning of their life and thus, the beginning of my family.

Young Fritz

Fritz and Erna Working Together