There are not many people left who can remember the time when the last people from Kalliss had left their home
village to move to America, the "New World".
But many of the people left in Kaliss still get letters and parcels from that distant country.
The emigrants, the former Kaliss people, did not forget their native place. However, is it possible to forget
your home place at all? I don't think so.
Some of the "Amerikafahrer" (emigrants to America) visited Kaliss last summer. They still knew some people
in the village. But the way they talked sounded a little bit queer. You could hear that they had become
Americans. Indeed, they still spoke "plattdütsch" (Low German) but it sounded American.
The last people emigrated to America in 1899. Now they wrote that they did very well. In Kaliss people said
that in America everything was 50 years in advance to Germany.
Franz Wilk, one of the old people in Kaliss, told me about it:
It was in February 1899. I had to hitch up the horses early in the morning, at 6 o'clock. "We take the large
harvest cart," my father had said. In the meantime 22 men, women and children have gathered in our pub. Well,
that's
a large procession! Everywhere suitcases, chests and baskets and among them the people. It is half past six
when everything is ready so that we can leave. The cold air hits our faces. Luckily it is clear now and no fog
coveres faces and clothes as frost as it would have been the day before.
From every farm people watch us and throw a last glance at the cart as if they want to say:
Now you leave for the "New World", what will it have ready for you? Some perhaps think: You could not bear to
stay. Now you will learn how to manage life in another place, but you will have to work in America as well!
Now Kaliss lies behind us. The people glance a last time at the farms and meadows.
Behind Verklas the sun rises higher and colors the sky red. Rosy dawn, what will you give these people who are
going to cross the ocean to the "New World" tomorrow?
The cart rattles along the road, passes Smölen and reaches Dömitz. The horses are steaming. The people on
the cart are silent. Everybody is thoughtful. Suddenly Rudolf Willert, one of the emigrants, says: "Franz,
at first
you drive to the station. There we drop women and children and then we transport the luggage to the Zingel
where the steamboats are lying. The train leaves at 13.30. We have got enough time to unload the luggage
and then go back to the station."
We go on towards the station. There we drop the women and the children. They can get warm inside the
station again.
The Zingel is crowded. We are not the only people there. Earlier than we had thought we are ready. The old ones
smoke a pipe or cigar and we return to the cart.
"It is so cold! Boys, let's go downtown, at Weidemann's pub we will get good grog. The cold bites too much,"
Wilhelm Lünzmann says. The others agree and now we are siting at Weideman's drinking grog made with pure arrack.
It is made as the boatmen of Dömitz like it: arrack must, sugar may, water isn't neccessary.
And the women are waiting! Now the men watch the clock. It is time to go. Everybody enters the cart and than we
drive to the station. The cold bites our faces.
Rudolf Willert is rolling drunk, only a thin stripe of blue smoke sometimes rises from his cigar. When we have
passed the school I suddenly get faster. Wilhelm Lünzmann, the forest worker nicknamed "Kefas", looses his
balance and falls from the cart. Now he is lying in the street. The others shout: "Kefas is lying in the street,
stop the cart!"
"Well, the cold," some say. "Well, the arrack," others say. They load Kefas on the cart again and we go on
to the station. The train is already standing at the platform. Smoke rises from the long chimney into the
cold air. Everybody has entered the train and has got a seat. The last words are exchanged. "Yes, Anna, the
suitcases are all on the steamboat. In Hamburg we are going to find them all." Now some tears are rolling down
the cheeks. Are we going to see you again? "Give my regards to the Kaliss people!" "Give my regards to Mother
Schulten!" "Yes, yes, we are going to write to you!"
The train toots. The handkerchiefs are winking for the last time. They are winking and winking. The fingers in
the gloves are already stiff from the cold. They are still winking when the train crosses the large railway
bridge. Towards America, the "New World".
He wrote the story after a visit of American relatives of the mentioned emigrants to Kaliss around 1970.
More details he had learned from Franz Wilk who is the narrator of the story. He had witnessed it when he was
a boy. In 1954, during a visit to Kaliss, he told Mr. Bötefür about the emigrants.
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| Rudolf Willert and his mother Elise and his elder brother | Rudolf Willert |
Bei den Auswanderern soll es sich unter anderem um Mitglieder der Familie Schult gehandelt haben.
Ein Rudolf Willert wird im Text erwähnt.
Möglicherweise hat sich diese Geschichte nicht 1899 ereignet, sondern erst 1905. In diesem Jahr ist
nämlich der 1888 geborene Rudolf Willert mit seiner Mutter Elise ausgewandert. In der Passagierliste steht,
dass sie zum Bruder Johann Willert (dem älteren Bruder von Rudolf?) ziehen wollten. Auch eine Familie
Ahrends und eine Frieda Schuldt aus Kaliss sind mit von der Partie. Sie sind offensichtlich mit einer
Lübecker Familie Möller zusammen auf dem Schiff "Patricia".
Die Enkeltochter von Rudolf George Willert, Gay Geiger, lebt heute in XXX und stellte mir freundlicherweise
die Fotos und weitere Einzelheiten aus ihrer Familiengeschichte zur Verfügung.
Ihr Großvater kam mit seiner Mutter 1905 nach Minnesota. 1918 heiratete er in Sheboygan
Ruth Elisabeth Am End (Amend), die bereits in den USA geboren worden war. Dem Paar wurden drei Söhne
und eine Tochter geboren. Ruth starb 1950 in Pewaukee, Rudolf 1977 ebenfalls dort.
Rudolfs Mutter Elise geb. Jauert kam 1852 in Kaliss zur Welt. Sie war die zweite Frau von Wilhelm Willert
und starb 1914 in Rock.