This is not based on a true story. This is a true story. When I was eighteen years old, life was a thrilling adventure.
Fresh out of Walla Walla High School in May 1962, I was brimming with accomplishments and mischief. I was the Senior Class President, an award-winning football, wrestling, and track athlete known by some as an all-around wild character. I also had a hot temper and was not opposed to a street fight if needed.
In fact, at the time, I enjoyed a good fistfight fight, as my father did in his day. Most people, because of my light skin, thought I was Italian, Hispanic, and, when we went to Germany, Jewish.
When I went into a bar, on several occasions, I ran into a racist. who hated " Indians." I would act as if I agreed and would egg them on to really express their hatred against Indians. Then I would smile and say, " You know I am one of those "dirty Indians," and let them have a mouth full of fists. Some came my way, as well.
With a burning desire to "see the world," my high school buddy Mike Friedman and I embarked on an audacious journey that would change my perspective forever.
So my high school friend Mike Friedman and I hitchhiked to New York City and worked on a freighter across the Atlantic Ocean to Bremerhaven, Germany. We hitchhiked and took trains through most Western Europe, beginning with Copenhagen.
After Mike returned home in February 1963, I was drawn to travel to West and East Berlin. I had a powerful curiosity to understand who the real people were behind the “Iron Curtain,” “the Soviet Menace,” “The only good Communist is a dead communist,” and radio programs like “ I Was a Communist for the FBI” and who I had been taught, all my life, was my vile and bitter enemy.
I knew the true history of what happened to my Native American relatives and the untruths and whitewashing by the victor who committed genocide throughout our history. Therefore, I wanted to hear the Russian side of the story.
To get to West Berlin, I had to travel through East Germany. When we came to the border of East Germany, soldiers checked our passports and suitcases. I was surprised to see young men my age carrying machine guns and looking like they would have no problem shooting me!
When I arrived in West Berlin, I could still see extensive damage from the bombing during WW 2. I spent several days doing “recon ” in West Germany with my trusty guide, “Europe, on $5.00 a Day.”
This included exploring nightlife like the Ballhaus Resi, a well-known nightclub known for its extravagant shows, attracting locals and visitors worldwide. One of the unique features of Ballhaus Resi was the phones on each table, allowing you to communicate and interact with one another.
After my “reconnaissance,” I headed for East Berlin with a note saying, “Please take me to the Russian Embassy.”I entered East Berlin through Checkpoint Charlie, where the East German Guards strip-searched me.
They could not understand why an eighteen-year-old wanted to come to East Berlin, but they had no choice because of military agreements following WW 2 regarding the division of Berlin to let me cross.
Going from West to East Berlin was like going from a colored to a black-and-white film!
I caught a taxi that brought me to the front steps of the USSR Embassy in East Berlin. I rang the bell beside the double doors. I waited and rang again.
A voice spoke through the speaker beside the door in Russian. When the voice stopped, I asked in English, "Is there someone I can talk with? There was a long pause, then a loud voice said in English, “ Who is this? Surprised, I blurted out, “ This is Phil from Walla Walla!
The door opened a few minutes, and I was invited to enter the Embassy by a gentleman in a tailored suit who spoke perfect English. We sat down and talked for more than three hours about why the United States and the Soviet Union saw each other as enemies, the politics of Cuba, how they wanted the same things for their children as we did, and how the Berlin Wall may be taken down one day. This was his perspective.
Regarding Cuba, my Russian friend told me about the Russian side of the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. Mike and I were in Munich, Germany, when the Cuban Missile Crisis happened in October 1962, and we heard the US side of the story. Since then, I have listened to many other perspectives.
The truth, he said, was the USA had put Jupiter missiles along the Turkish and Italian borders, and Russia wanted them gone. President Kennedy agreed to remove the missiles and promised Russia that the US would not invade Cuba.
He said the Russians won their points and pulled out of Cuba. And that was the way it was, according to him. I do not think, whatever the reality, that he would have told me Russia lost.
During our extended visit, we had tea and parted as friends. l learned from that experience that every issue has many sides and that each perspective must be carefully and respectfully considered. As my Elders told me, “you should never judge another human being until you have walked at least a mile in their moccasins.”
After we finished our visit, my new Russian friend gave me three books that told the Russian side of the story. One of the books had a giant black spider covering Cuba with red letters USA on the spider's back.
After leaving the Russian Embassy, I searched for a taxi to return to Checkpoint Charlie. In my search, I came upon a busy Beer Hall.
I walked in, as I wanted to meet some East Germans and drink some German Beer. The next thing I knew, once one German knew I was an “Indianer,” an American Indian, I was sitting at the end of a large table at the left corner of the Beer Hall. I was surrounded by young German blue-collar workers who just got off work.
These relatives bought me quite a few mugs full of German beer. One German brother spoke English and translated for us, and I could speak and understand some German. So we had a great visit, including singing some German beer-drinking songs. We drank beer and had a good visit for about three hours. The one thing that stands out in my memory is the terrible condition of our German relative's teeth. They had little dental and health care. Even though they were materially poor, they insisted on paying for all my beer, pickles, and sausages.
I have the German author Karl May to thank for all the hospitality. May created the characters of Winnetou, the wise chief of the Apaches, and Old, Winnetou's white-blood brother. He wrote a series of eleven books that revolved around these characters. The series is commonly known as the "Winnetou" series and was widely read and romanticized by our German relatives since the late 1800s.
After hugs and handshakes with my new friends, I left to find a taxi. I must say I was feeling no pain!
The Taxi driver did not understand I wanted to go to Checkpoint Charlie and took me into East Germany instead. Had I encountered East German Polizei, I would have been in an East German Prison. After a frantic couple of minutes, I got the Taxi going to Checkpoint Charlie. This is when I felt fear!
I was” feeling my oats” after the numerous German beers when we arrived at Checkpoint Charlie. For some crazy reason, I high-jumped the drop gate on the East German side. I could see the US Soldiers on the West German side, so I figured the East Germans wouldn’t shoot me.
The East Germans got quite agitated and had me take off all my clothes and searched me, including private crevices. I did not think they would think I was a spy when I high-jumped the drop-gate. It was too stupid an action for a spy.
When we arrived at Checkpoint Charlie, I quickly jumped out of the Taxi. Thankfully, I forgot my three books from my friend at the Russian Embassy, especially the one with a giant black spider covering Cuba with red letters USA on the spider's back. The US soldiers may have thought I was a communist when I returned, which would not have been good.
After I left Checkpoint Charlie, I went back to my economy hotel to sleep and prepare for the next adventure, Amsterdam!
This is not a political statement or a social-economic analysis of capitalism and communism! This is a snapshot of my experience over 60 years ago.
From my perspective, what is most important at this time in history is how we all fully realize the reality of the Prior Unity and Oneness of our Human Family and all Life, and the Hurt of One is the Hurt of All. And likewise, the Healing and Honor of One is the Healing and Honor of All. '
If we are not careful and this is not understood by all sides of our deepening global conflict, nuclear war seems inevitable! Let us sincerely pray that this is not the case!
From my experience and perspective, the principle-centered, culturally respectful Path forged by the Union of the Condor, Hummingbird, Quetzal, and Eagle is the Path to unifying our Human Family, Ending War, and Beginning Peace on Earth.
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Shunkmanu He Me Yedo! Chanupa Sapa He Me Yedo!
