An old Army buddy of mine, Ed Kratil sent me a picture a couple days ago of the kaserne (post) where we lived in Muenster, Germany for over two years. He told me that our former home had been remodeled into low-income housing.

In the picture, the guard shack at the front of the post had been converted into some sort of pizza shop.

I stared at the picture for a bit. After the Gulf War had started several of us where pulling guard duty for the base in that shack. In the background you can see large growth of grass and other vegetation. When we were there, it was trimmed neat and clean.

I’ve included the only remaining picture I have of that area. I cut it down several years ago to fit into one of those multi-picture frames.

While I looked at the picture, I thought of the lyrics to My City was Gone (by the Pretenders).

The lyrics are:

I went back to Ohio

but my city was gone

there was no train station

there was no downtown

South Howard had disappeared

all my favorite places

my city had been pulled down

reduced to parking spaces

A, O, way to go, Ohio

I’m not one to stand in the way of progress, but I was sad to realize that my former home was gone.

I had a similar feeling last year when I visited my former hometown of Wapakenta, Ohio. The city really hadn’t changed, but I had. The warm memories I had of that town were vague due to the passing of my childhood. Seeing it again, gave it a reality that didn’t jibe with how I remembered it.

But seeing our post as low income housing isn’t erasing or changing those memories I have. In fact, I think I might be remembering them a little more fondly now.

I won’t be able to walk back in the barracks and see some lowly private sitting CQ.

I won’t be able to see my old room.

I won’t be able to go down range and see the bunkers where my other friends were working while Angel and I were in Darmstadt screwing around. We had a great gig!

Hell, there are a lot of memories I won’t be able to relive.

Except in my memories.

With every year they are sweeter.