August and Something After



MONDAY, August 15, 1995.

Sometime in the middle of last month, my mother prodded me into contacting Gaelle, the daughter of a friend of a friend. Gaelle recently moved to Brussels, and since Zurich is practically a suburb of Brussels (not!), my mother's friend thought, "Both kids are in Europe, they ought to meet each other." My mom provided numbers for work phone and fax. Since my phone at work blocks me from making international calls, I couldn't call, so I sent a fax with the facts, suggesting that she contact me if she was interested in a European rendezvous. That was on July 18th.

I'd pretty much written off hearing from her when she called me at work last Wednesday - over two weeks later! Her secretary hadn't given her the fax right away; then she'd been trying to reach me at home, which I hear can be difficult. Anyway, suddenly, there she was on the phone. We had a brief conversation and arranged for her to come down to Zurich to visit that weekend. Why waste any time?

She arrived bright and early Saturday morning on the night train from Brussels. I was there just before 7 am at the Hauptbahnhof to pick her up. I stood at the end of the platform with a sign that said "Gaelle" like I was a limo driver. We rendezvoused successfully and then hopped on tram #14. So much for the limo. Back at my place, I prepared breakfast (bagels, lox, sliced tomato) while she freshened up. I'd spent the week creating a list of possible opportunities to make sure we didn't run out of things to do. After dragging her down to Zurich (I didn't really want to go to Belgium), I figured I'd better make it worth the trip.

After breakfast, we headed out to enjoy a day around Zurich. We walked up the Bahnofstrasse, explored the flea market down by the lake, stopped for a drink at the Odeon sidewalk Cafe in Bellevueplatz, walked through the old town, and then headed up to the Uetliberg. From there, we headed back to my apartment, listened to music for a while, and then went for a traditional Swiss dinner at Kropf. After dinner, we went to the "Open-Air Kino." It was really cool. They set up a big movie screen right on the edge of the lake. When we first got there, it was like a big cocktail party, and then as it started to get dark, everyone climbed into the bleachers to watch the film. Unfortunately, we got stuck watching a corny, Italian-made, Henry Fonda western, but the scene was hip and made a perfect ending to our day.

On Sunday, I took one of Bischi's suggestions, and we headed to the Rigi, a mountain overlooking Lake Viewwaldsttter, the same lake that Lucerne is on. The trip didn't start smoothly. We bought tickets which would take us from Zurich to the top of the Rigi, down the other side, across the lake, and from Lucerne back to Zurich. The Swiss don't give anything away; the tickets were about $90 each. We bought the tickets and then boarded the train. Then, we realized that we'd misplaced one of the tickets. The train was going to leave in less than 5 minutes. Buying another ticket on the train would be even more expensive than another off the train, but if we got off, we'd have to wait an hour or two for the next train. We were panicked. We decided to get off, and as we hopped off the train, we spotted it, laying there on the platform, the missing ticket. We got back on, plopped ourselves down on the seats, laughing and out of breath, as the train started rolling.

We got off the train in Arth-Goldau, a stop I'll always remember as part of my horrible trip from Liege to Siena, and switched to the RigiBahn. It's track is so steep that it's wheels are gears and the track is ridged. When we first boarded, the seats were tilted forward. Once the train left the station and started climbing the mountain, this was quickly remedied, because the train was tilted backward during the climb. On top of the Rigi, we said hello to a group of cows and then hiked down to a little ridge where we sat overlooking the lake. After an hour or two, we rode another geared railway down the other side of the mountain and boarded a large steamboat which took us across the lake to Lucerne. We walked around Lucerne for a little while, ate dinner outside at a restaurant along the river, and then rode the train back to Zurich. We had drinks at the Hauptbahnhof and then it was time for Gaelle to head back to Brussels. It was a great weekend.

I've discovered on-line CD shopping. Oh, no! I'm doomed.

Last Wednesday, I heard that Jerry Garcia died. This was a much bigger shock to me than I would have expected. It made me sad. It made me sad for every deadhead and Jerry-fan world wide. The way the e-mail was sent around so quickly emphasized the sense of community. Candy offered me an electronic hug. On Tuesday, I'd ordered a Dead CD from CD World - they sent me mail telling me to treasure my Dead albums in the future, that Jerry had passed away.

The America that I return to will be incomplete - missing a part of the America I left. Personally, I am almost over it already. I mean, I can still listen to the Dead. Jerry has left behind thousands of hours of himself. Undoubtably a retrospective box set will be put together. Though I'm sad that I can't go see him anymore - it was always fun. I saw my first Dead show in August '93. Between then and my last show in December '94 (just before leaving for Europe the second time), I saw the Dead and the Jerry Garcia Band a combined total of about 20 times. Good thing I caught him while I could.

Photos of St. Moritz

Photos of Brussels

What I really wonder about is how the whole Grateful Dead community will react. What will happen to the rest of the band? Will they go on? It would somehow seem against the tradition of the whole thing to stop. On the other hand, how can they replace Jerry? What's going on in the head of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart? How about all of those all-too-dedicated fans who do nothing but travel around chasing the Dead from city to city? What will they do now? How big a blow is this to them? Everyone knew this would happen someday and so everyone shouldn't be too shocked. I think the deadheads will hug each other and cry, but then what will they do?

A piece of America has died.


MONDAY, September 4, 1995.

Believe it or not, I'm still alive. I just got over my first serious Euro-illness. I was home in bed for five days with strep throat and a fever. It was truly miserable, but my friends really came together and helped me get through it. My friend (and office-mate) Kai brought me lots of juice and soup and called a doctor who made house-calls! Other friends from work called and stopped by to offer their support. And Gaelle even rode the train from Brussels just to sit with me for the day on Saturday! 11 liters of Apple Juice and 3 days of penicillin later, I'm feeling a lot better. I plan to return to work tomorrow, although perhaps only for half a day if I begin to feel worn down.


MONDAY, September 18, 1995.

Even though I was still feeling a bit weak, I did go back to work on Tuesday the 5th. I thought I was going to be all right. Mom came to visit that Thursday, and we left early Saturday morning for a weekend in St. Moritz. That Saturday, we had a nice time walking the lake and sipping tea, though I was feeling tired. Saturday night I started getting nervous about a relapse. Sunday morning I felt like death. Everything was back. I was shivering and I could barely swallow. I visited a doctor down in St. Moritz and then managed to get back to Zurich. The train ride was excruciating. I just wanted to lay down. Thank goodness mom was there to take care of me. Unfortunately, I didn't make good company for her on her vacation.

I spent last week at home in bed recovering again. Theory is that the first doctor didn't give me enough days worth of antibiotics. Argh! Friday night rolled around and I was still feeling a little bit on edge, but I really wanted to visit Gaelle before I left for my planned trip to Denmark with Kaia. So I defied all common-sense and motherly advice (sorry, mom) and took the night train to Brussels. The train didn't do me much good, but a weekend with Gaelle did a lot for my spirits. I've survived, and was back at work again today.



Copyright 1997 by Bradley Edelman
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E-mail: Brad Edelman