Check Point Charlie – Berlin 1986

 

Check Point Charlie – Berlin 1986

By Wil Bosbyshell

It was three in the morning in Berlin Germany. I was in my full U.S. Army Class A uniform, medals and all; it was a bit rumpled. It had been a long, exciting and interesting day in both East and West Berlin. 

I was in the US equivalent of Dunkin' Donuts, a ‘Berliner’ shop. That is what they called donuts in Berlin. I am charitable in comparing a Berliner to a donut. Both are pastries at least, but donuts taste good. I needed coffee, lots of coffee. I was worried that I was really drunk. I didn't think I was drunk, but it was Berlin on New Year’s Eve, and the other possibility was that I hallucinating.

The donut shop was a clean and well-lit place, just like an Ernst Hemingway story. It was on a major square in downtown West Berlin. On the sidewalk outside thousands of people jostled on the street because everyone was partying or heading to a party. I had just left a disco dance club to get a bit of fresh air and spied this donut / Berliner shop. The shop was crowded with people who needed some caffeine to continue partying. I was contemplating all I had done that day watching the crowds on the street, people coming and going …. wait, was that a vampire? A couple, dressed in all black, walked into and through the shop. Straight from the front door to the bathroom (water closet). “OK,” I thought… vampires. I ordered a second cup of coffee. 

I was on a three month leave while on active duty in U S Army and between duty stations. I travelled to Europe on an Air Force plane to visit my sister in Germany. I flew from South Carolina to Frankfurt then back to Canada through DC to South Carolina roundtrip halfway around the world for $1.15. I'm not sure what the $1.15 cents paid for, but it had to be paid in cash, in exact change. That's the US military way. 

In Bamberg Germany, I joined four Army officers who wanted to spend New Year's Eve in Berlin. Why not, I thought. On the way to Berlin, we drove through the less famous checkpoints: Alpha and Bravo. Once in Berlin we checked into the bachelors’ officers’ quarters, donned our Class A uniforms and headed for the infamous Checkpoint Charlie. This was 1986 and half of Berlin and Germany were communist under the influence of the Soviet Union (USSR). The US Army had an agreement that soldiers could spend the day in communist East Berlin if they were out by midnight. On the dot, or you were shot…. dead. 

We walked through Checkpoint Charlie into no man's land. Cameras and machine guns trained on us! Many of each. Scary to have that many loaded weapons pointed at you. We endured many inspections, a great deal of ID and passport presenting, and uniform inspections on both sides. Through the Berlin Wall inside East Berlin we went straight to the Soviet Officers Club. The USSR Officers’ Club met all our décor expectations: they even had several very large statutes of Lenin and Stalin in the foyer. We bought everyone in the bar a round of drinks and toasted to our respective countries and services.

The exchange rate between the communist east and capitalistic west was twenty to one (GDR East German Deutsche Marks to U.S. dollars). We were received warmly by the people in East Berlin, especially if we were buying the drinks. 

On we went to dinner. We were turned away from five fine dining establishments. They were full and required reservations. There was no way to make a reservation, much less a phone call between East and West Berlin. 

My buddies and I huddled. 

Meanwhile back in the donut shop, another group came into the donut shop in all black clothing, white skin, and black hair. One of the women turned to say something to the group… did I see fangs? Straight to the bathroom they went. No one in the group stopped to get any coffee. Strange coincidence? Two groups of vampires? No one else in the donut shop seemed to notice. 

Back in East Berlin, I said, “Guys the exchange rate is twenty to one, that means if we give the maître-d' a $20 dollar bill that’s worth 400DM (Deutsche Marks).” “No way that will work,” one of the other junior officers said, “look at that line, they'll never let us cut in front of that line even for 400DM.” “What do we have to lose? Let's try it.” I walked up to the maître-d' who had just turned us away saying the restaurant was too crowded, (in broken German) “A table for five, bitter.” and slipped him $40 U.S. dollars folded. He looked down, no hesitation: “Wait please.” Moments later a table was carried over everyone’s head and placed in the aisle. We were in! The seven course meal lasted three hours, the final two courses being cigars and brandy. Smoking was allowed everywhere in the world at this time. Barbaric, I know! Each man paid $20 US for the meal including a generous tip. 

We proceeded to a communist disco until eleven when we left to return across the border wall through Checkpoint Charlie. We didn’t want to be late and shot after all. 

I interrupt this story to notice a third group of vampires walk through the donut shop directly to the bathroom. 

After crossing back into West Berlin and into the US zone we went straight to another disco. The US Army class A hat was hell to keep up with in a dance club, but I managed. The round saucer hat got kicked and stepped on a few times. Oh well. 

Not a single vampire had emerged from the bathroom at this point. I had observed at least ten go in. What was going on? Inquiring minds had to know! Maybe the donut shop had a really large bathroom? I finished my Berliner and coffee, paid, and went into the hall to the men’s room. Expecting a full house of vampires in the men’s bathroom, I yanked the door open … nothing. I stood there for a moment. 

I went back out in the hallway, four doors: Damen, Herren, Kuche (kitchen), and a door with no sign. The blank door beckoned, so I pushed it open. Wow! Crazy lights, deafening Goth dark-wave music, all black walls, chain link fence décor… a full-blown dance club. A vampire disco! No sign, no bouncer, but lots of fangs, pale skin, black jeans and black hair. “Fun,” I thought. My uniform was definitely not meeting the vampire disco dress code. It was Berlin on New Year's Eve after all….the vampires didn’t mind. 

Ultimate Haunted House a story by Wil Bosbyshell

I grew up as the preacher's kid. Everyone knew my father was an Episcopal priest at Church of the Ascension in Clearwater Florida.

When kids were introduced at school or in a game it went something like this: this is Tom, Mike, Bob, Will - his father is a priest- Sally, Mark, etc. No one, except me, had their father's occupation mentioned in these introductions. This drove me crazy.

There were good and bad aspects of being the preacher's kid. The bad: I had to be at church a lot. And I mean a lot. Especially during Lent. To this day, I absolutely hate Lenten suppers on Wednesday night. The good: some girls could only go out with me, the saintly preacher’s son. Sorry, no more details on that. 

Once, something unexpectedly good happened because I was the preacher's kid; I was given a two-story office building to host a Halloween haunted house. Yes, you read that correctly, the church gave me the use of an entire building for a haunted house. More on that in a minute.

I love Halloween. I believe that everyone should be a vampire or werewolf at least one day a year. As a kid I built haunted houses in my garage. In junior high I graduated to leading the church youth group building haunted houses in adjacent Sunday school rooms. We charged a quarter to raise money for UNICEF. 

One September I was stuck at church … again. One constant at my father's or any Florida church was lots of old men hanging around. Being 16, I thought the old men were a pain in the ass. They wanted to talk all the time. I would humor them by halfheartedly conversing with them. 

One old man proved his worth. He overheard several boys discussing the vital need for more make-out or kissing time at youth group. We were brainstorming how to get more of this activity on the schedule. “Why not have a road rally?” he suggested. “What's a road rally?” me and the other boys asked. “Well,” he explained, “You create clues leading all over town. Teams of four kids per car follow the clues, the last clue ends the rally at your favorite pizza joint. The car with the lowest mileage wins.” 

We were momentarily confused and a little slow on the uptake. “It sounds fun,” we ventured “but that doesn't leave much make-out time if you’re driving all over town.” He explained, “You boys will know the amount of time the rally will take since you know the clues. All the other cars follow the clues, meanwhile your car goes straight to Sand Key to make-out with your girlfriends, then at the pre-arranged time you meet the other teams, and the adults, at the end point. The adults and parents are none the wiser. Your car …. just got lost.” Wink wink, nod nod. 

My friends and I were rendered momentarily speechless. This was a make-out masterstroke delivered by an 80-year-old man that we had previously considered boring at best. Genius!

My buddy recovered first, “That is an awesome plan. You don't know anyone who has a road rally map by chance?” he asked hoping for the guess-at answer. “I do, and I can bring them next week,” replied our new favorite old man. “You're on!” we exclaimed. 80-year-old men may be old, but they are still men. Manly men at that. 

Back to the haunted house.

One day my favorite old man was blathering along about something when I picked up an item from the conversation: the church office was being demolished. I couldn’t care less normally, but they said the day of demolition was November 1st. Red alert sounded in my head. 

I was already planning this year's haunted classroom, but a house would be so much better. A house would be awesome in fact. I ran to my father's office; confirmed the demolition of the building and asked if the youth group could have use of the soon-to-be-demolished building, for its haunted house. My father asked the rector, “Sure,” he agreed. The house was being vacated on October 15th. The ultimate haunted house was in business! 

We had a problem though. We only had props for the classroom and this house was big: two stories, stairs and two porches. We would have to up our haunted house game considerably. 

Team Old Men to the rescue yet again! Sitting around the church waiting for my father to finish some meeting, I was explaining my haunted house problem to the ubiquitous old men. “Well,” he said “Me and Bob do a lot of woodworking. Do you need us to make something for you?” No hesitation on my part, “We need a coffin, an old-timey coffin with a slanted top, like the one in Dracula starring Christopher Lee. We need an electric chair with a big Frankenstein switch and a mad scientist table.” He was impressed by my list. And I could tell … thrilled to have a project to work on. He and Bob would be building props for the preacher’s kid’s haunted house! An old man’s dream come true. 

“Can you draw up rough plans?” he asked. I think he may have thought that I would go home to do this. He didn’t know me very well. I ran to my dad's office got three sheets printer paper, returned, and drew him detailed plans on the spot. I had the vision in my head already. 

Team Old Men were true to their word and all three props were delivered by October 1st. I recruited some of my high school buddies to augment the youth group Bill Mize, Mike DeYoung, Tom Oster and Bob Perry. Having participated in the now legendary Road Rally, they were up for anything I suggested involving church youth group. 

We made announcements at church several Sundays in advance of Halloween, in the Sunday bulletin and in the mailed bulletin. We put up flyers and told all our friends. The haunted house PR machine was in full swing. 

Haunted House plans were drawn and redrawn. Supplies were purchased. Tombstones were constructed out of cardboard; costumes were made; makeup was practiced; cow femurs were bought from the local butcher shop; fake blood was mixed. We knocked holes in the walls enabling disembodied limbs to grab victims as they walked by! We spray painted the walls with grass, scary trees, moons, clouds, crows, owls, scary eyes, etc. We knocked holes in the ceiling, so Tom Oster’s arms hung down, dropping things like wet spaghetti on victims. When wet spaghetti lands on a girls arm the screams are to die for! 

In one room a mad scientist chopped Lea Brady's blood covered skeleton leg (technically a huge cow femur bone) with a machete. She screamed so loudly it even scared us! 

Another room became a graveyard where a dead Mike DeYoung with a real knife in his chest popped up and chased victims. Nearby a vampire (me) and the OG werewolf Bill Mize battled to the death … or undeath. In another room Bob Perry was electrocuted, convulsing when Igor threw the super large Frankenstein switch that was connected to the tin foil skullcap fitting over his head. 

If our “guests” made it through to the end of the haunted house, a happy clown greeted them on the back porch. We did this to cheer up younger kids who got too scared. Unfortunately, that backfired, the clown scared them worse than the haunted house and this was even before Stephen King's “It.” Kathy Gibson Taylor swears to this day that she was not scared by the clown or anything. She claims now that she was not even at the haunted house. I know better. 

The haunted house took place the Sunday evening prior to Halloween. People lined up around the block; it was a tremendous success never to be topped in my time in high school. The best thing was that at the end of the event we walked away … no cleanup! 

The coffin came home with me as part of my bargain with Team Old Men. My parents allowed me to store it under our house next to the air conditioner. It scared the shit out of HVAC repairman over the years. My sister claimed she once saw an air-conditioner technician run from under the house to his truck … never to return.

It was definitely the ultimate Haunted House! Being the preacher’s son was OK after all. 

Midnight Sun Series - Part 5

These silk screen mono-prints I completed a while ago, and many of them are already in private collections. 

 

Art Book or Sketchbook?

When does something change from one thing to another? I question myself at times. Is this book one of sketches or an art book. I purchased this book at Lexington Books in Downtown Asheville in July. The book 's pages were all recycled bills, notebook paper, color paper, invoices, ledges, etc. The pages were all different sizes and textures. It was an art book without me doing anything. 

I then proceeded to add all kinds of things to the pages: collage, photos, tracing paper, drawings, type, stamps, ink, color pencil, paint, etc. I am obviously influenced by my sun series, so many images reflect sun or moon images. 

What do you think? Art Book or sketch book? Let me know your thoughts. 

 

Midnight Sun Series - Part 4

 

I decided to focus on a few detailed areas of the sky on each of these fine art mono-prints. The above print has a sky full of stars. The white halo around the sun is larger than pervious images. 

The above scene has a very dark red in the sun and I added a lot of color pencil strokes to the sky. No stars. 

For this mono-print I was trying to show the aurora borealis with stars in the sky. This is a single layer print. This print is on rice paper. 

Midnight Sun Series - Part 3

These fine art mono-prints were created using the silk screen technique. After the ink dried, I used color pencil to add a little fine detail. 

 

Midnight Sun Series - Part 2

These fine art prints are from one linoleum block that I modified only slightly by carving. The above 1st block is three layers of color: yellow, green and red. 

The above print has the 1st three layers the same, but I added layers light and dark blue. 

This final print I added more blue areas, stars and more red.