Flying Home Page #4

He returned to the US,

and found his new home in Hawaii,

on the other side of the globe.

From there, he wrote

a very last letter to his mother.

Honolulu, 31 May 1970.

Dear Mami,

In a way,

I would like to fly home to you,

and stay until your 100th birthday.

But what could I do,

if I were to stay longer with you?

Prayers to you. Your son, Walter.

Following the mother's death,

the heirs met in Comano.

Everyone was there,

only Uncle Walter was missing.

And to the whole family's annoyance, he

refused to sign the division of the estate.

After two of my sisters-in-law tried to

get Walter to change his mind, in vain,

I offered to fly to Honolulu myself.

I would see my Uncle in America

for the first time!

He had written to me,

that we could meet on the 25th floor

of the Pauahi Towers,

at his broker's.

For this first encounter,

I had taken a small Video-8 camera.

So that was my Uncle Walter,

who had lived in my head

for so many years.

Who got up every morning at four,

to study the New York share prices,

who lived at his brokerage

like in a big family.

In the office of his broker,

Eugene Drzymala,

I finally summoned the courage to

ask Walter a few questions.

Once, during my visit,

Uncle Walter asked me:

- Why did you come?

- Because of you, I said.

Then he uttered a scream,

and ran off, across the street.

Of course I was led by compassion,

when I asked Uncle Walter

my questions about the future of his life,

but also by my interest,

that his money shouldn't be lost.

It didn't rain.

Not in the morning, either.

Nothing.

Towards the evening,

I had begun to get used to

my strange, frugal, lonely Uncle,

and I began to

like him more and more.

Just like all the other Uncle Walters

I had always imagined.

But he didn't let me get any closer.

Have a nice evening!

Bye, Walter!

Uncle Walter had taken about

25,000 slide photographs over 50 years.

Most of them in Honolulu.

It took me months,

just to have a quick look at them.

In February 2001,

I visited my Uncle again in Honolulu.

I knew that Walter would soon die.

Three years earlier,

he had fallen from his bed,

because for years,

he had shoved all letters and bills under

the mattress, until it collapsed under him.

He was bruised and

taken to an old people's home.

When he got worse,

he was taken to the Leali Hospital.

In November 2001,

Walter's urn was sent to Switzerland.

A few months later,

his estate.

About a million dollars

for each of us heirs,

almost 100,000 Swiss Francs.

I can carry it down,

if you like.

It would be possible.

It would be better,

then you can see it.

Damn it!

There is still a final story:

During my visit to Honolulu,

Uncle Walter told me that he

absolutely had to go to Los Angeles,

as he had put his belongings

in storage there,

and never picked them up.

But he never made it.

After his death, I made inquiries

at several storage companies,

without success.

If I were to receive a phone call today,

that they had found his things after all,

what would I say?

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