One morning Jim arrived at the bahnhoff (train station) and wanted to know when the next train was due to arrive. As he was struggling to get an answer, the station master told him he could speak English and Jim was so glad. They began to talk while he was waiting for the train and Jim asked where he learned to speak English. He told him that he was a prisoner of war during WWII and was sent to Camp Rucker, AL. And that he worked on a peanut farm while there and became friends with a farmer and his school teacher wife who tried to teach him English. They kept talking and he asked Jim if he knew where Elba, AL was. Of course he did. That was my hometown. Then he said the farmer's name was John B. Johnson - who lived near my family and we were actually living temporarily in a house in the middle of Mr. Johnson's peanut field when the German man was working there!! He had corresponded with the Johnson family after he returned to Germany and the war had ended. I thought there were so many coinidences in this encounter. I couldn't wait to get back to the US and tell the Johnsons who we met.
Jim got a promotion soon after this encounter at the train station and we were able to move into government housing in Wurzburg and we never went to the train station in the little village again. We have both been back to Wurzburg at different times and it looks much the same except for modern highways (autobahns). Our oldest son Ron was born in Wurzburg and has a German birth certificate. Six years ago on a business trip to Europe, he located the house we lived in, and called us on his cell phone as he stood looking at our house. He sent a photo via his cell phone to our computer and after 50 years, it looks almost as it did when we lived there. (That's our son Ron standing in front of our house at 66 Zepplinstrasse in Wurzburg in 2001. This is his birthplace!)