Frankfurt, Airport

In 1970 arrangements had been made for our new Volkswagen camper-van to be delivered when we arrived at the Frankfurt, Germany, airport, but due to a major problem with the airplane, our flight was 24 hours late. As we tried to find our luggage, we heard our name (after a fashion) being paged over the airport speaker system, then saw a young lady with a handful of papers. She “guessed” we were the people who were to pick up the VW, so shoved the papers toward us and disappeared. We signed nothing, she asked no questions, she assumed we were the right people. Along with the vehicle papers we found a set of keys and a parking receipt, so after a few minutes search we were ready to travel.

This vehicle provided a month of sleeping and eating for four people (daughter Linda and her friend Pupa), 4,500 miles of travel through ten countries, including sojourns in London, Paris, Rome and Berlin. At the end of the trip we shipped it home, and sold it a few days after it arrived. Our vehicle cost for the month was about $500, plus gasoline and tolls.

While we were in Europe during that trip, a couple of airplanes were hijacked to the Mid-Eastern desert, and blown up. A few days later, when we arrived at the airport for our flight home, we were introduced to our first taste of airport security.

No one had yet invented metal-detectors and baggage X-ray equipment, but furniture had been arranged in such a manner that passengers were directed into small groups. Men and women were sent into separate rooms to be thoroughly, physically frisked. Our luggage was placed on the tarmac near the airplane, then we had to identify it and place it in containers. We were herded directly on the plane to make sure that if we had packed a bomb, we had to ride the plane. One other year we were again required to load our own baggage directly into the airplane baggage containers, but we forget what specific reason they gave that time.

In total, during eight trips we have flown to the Frankfort Airport from Los Angeles (with an occasional stop on the way in Dallas, Baltimore, Toronto, Bangor, London, Brussels). Seven times we have flown from Frankfort to Los Angeles (with stops in all the same intermediate cities), plus a flight from Saarbrücken to Frankfort one year, and a return to Saarbrücken the following year.

Over the years we have seen a tremendous growth in the size of the airport; the number of airlines that use the airport; a tram that connects the multiple terminals; a vast increase in shopping opportunities; and the addition of more than one McDonald's. (To account for the eighteen arrivals and departures during nine trips to Europe — one year we flew in and out of the Luxembourg Airport, and in 1985 sailed from Rotterdam to Montreal on a ship.)