Quick Index:
Davos, Switzerland
Page 1
Davos & Monstein
Page 2
Page 3
Monstein, Guarda
& the Alps
Page 4
Page 5
Page 6
Through Austria into Bavaria
Page 7
Hohenschangau/ Neuschwanstein Castles, Tegel Berg, & Wieskirche
Page 8
Page 9
Page 10
Page 11
Page 12
Page 13
Driving to Baden-Württemberg
Page 14
Page 15
Hochdorf & Schlierbach
Page 16
(Essay)
Page 17
Kirkheim ünter
Teck & our hotel
Page 18
Europe Trip, August 2007
An essay on visiting Hochdorf, Aug 15
German Roots
When we drove from Bad Überkingen down into the Göppingen and Esslingen region of Baden-Württemberg, Germany I had no particular expectations. I tried hard not to have any, because expectations are too easily dashed.
The terrain came suddenly down out of the high plateau and hills onto a flatter plain. In the distance was the city of Stuttgart, but before us was mostly farmland, long winding fields, orchards, and herds of goats and sheep. The landscape and climate seemed a bit familiar, similar to Ohio, where I have lived the past 17 years. I was hoping there was less poison ivy, though, as I climbed out of the car to take a photo of the town sign: Hochdorf.
We drove into the village and immediately found the old church, Martinskirche, in the center of town. The church itself was established in 1189, became a Lutheran church during the reformation, then eventually became what they now call the Evangelishe Martinskirche, the Württemberg equivalent of a Protestant Lutheran church.
The old tower looked a bit forlorn and elderly, and the doors were locked up tight. The doors to the church office building across the street were locked as well. Things didn’t look too promising. We hesitated for a few moments, then wandered down into the town’s main intersection, wondering if there was someone to whom we could pose some English questions, and from whom we might get comprehensible answers.
We walked into the Kirche Apotheke, the pharmacy across from the church. The girl behind the counter barely spoke English, but we were eventually able to communicate that my great-great grandfather might have lived in Hochdorf and that he might have been baptized at the old church. She shot off upstairs to get the manager. He arrived post-haste and seemed fascinated and animated by our purpose and story. He told us he would call the church office. When he got only an answering machine, he told us the pastor was on holiday. But then he remembered the name of another of the church staff, the organist, and called him. After a very animated and excited German conversation that included the words “Americanisher” and “Urgrossvater,” he told us this man had promised to zip right over to the church and let us in.
Herr Reichel showed up driving a top-heavy van and wearing denim shorts. A short man with a salt-and-pepper beard, he opened the church and led us in. What we didn’t realize was that he would not only let us see the building, he would also give us the church history, talk about the new organ and its 100-year-old pipes, the baptismal font that dated from the 1100s, and the 1980s era church renovation. He seemed extremely pleased to have visitors to his church. He then quite suddenly put on his special organ shoes and socks and spontaneously played the organ for us for about 10 minutes.
While Herr Reichel played, I sat in one of the pews thinking about ancestors and forebears and about the fact that I was staring at an 817-year-old font (called a Taufstein) where my great-great grandfather Johann Jakob Keller may have been baptized in 1847. Church records say he was confirmed there in 1861. He may have actually been born in or near the nearby town of Schlierbach, where his own father was allegedly from. Further research will clarify that. Seven years after Johann Jakob was confirmed, he had left for America.
The sense of history and of real persons long since dead was overwhelming. These were people with childhoods and dreams, traumas and joys, parents and children. They were 
born here in or near this small town where they were baptized, confirmed, married, and became parents. They worked in the weaving industry, built pianos, traded in fruit and timber, and brewed beer. And somewhere along the way, for some mysterious reason, they collected enough money and applied for passage and emigration to America.
Once in the United States, it appears as though Jacob and his family either operated or worked in a restaurant or saloon and lived in Highland Park, Baltimore. Census records show a Jacob Keller, at age 33 (the right age), living in Highland Park with his wife Elizabeth, 27, and their three children at the time, Conrad, 8, Robert, 5, and William, 1. Jacob’s next-in-line son, John George, who was my great-grandfather, was born in 1881 in Baltimore and ended up working all sorts of jobs, including picking berries and working at the cannery.
As the little church swelled with huge music in defiance of its size and probably of its impact on the community at this point, I felt tears welling up. Although I had never met my German ancestors and had no emotional ties, I did feel a tie of common human experience and of music, since abilities and interests lie there for many in my family. Were these people hard-working? Did they have a relationship with God? Were they pains in the butt, were they skilled craftsmen, did they have strong family ties? I know there is a history of tension and estrangement between family members regarding whether they chose the Lutheran or Catholic tradition. So the Reformation fractured families as well as dividing countries and religious groups. Change, however necessary, can be painful.
Herr Reichel told us the church did indeed have records from the 1800s but that the archives were closed for the summer until staff returned from holiday. So I left him my contact information and all my info about Johann Jakob Keller. Hopefully I’ll be able to get something through email or regular mail.
Our little side trip to Schlierbach didn’t turn up much, since the Evangelische Kirche there was closed up tight as a drum and no staff member was on hand to unfold history for us. But we did extract an email address and other contact information from the signs out front and took photos. I hope to hear back from these churches in the next few months and possibly get more information.
In the meantime I at least experienced a few hours somewhere near where my forebears may have lived and worked. I wondered how they got the courage to change their lives so completely by pulling up stakes and committing themselves and their families to a new life overseas. Maybe there was a depression in Europe and America offered hope. Maybe Baden-
Württemberg had enough weavers and brewers, and families were growing too large for a sluggish local economy to support. Whatever their reasons, it was fascinating to occupy their world for a few hours and imagine a life in Europe, in Germany, long before the World Wars and before Germany was even unified as a nation under the Prussian emperor.
It was humbling and inspiring to walk where they had walked. Meine Vorfahre.