Merry Christmas from the Bosbyshells!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

from Wil & Maura Bosbyshell

Dear Family and Friends:

2024 was an exciting year for the Bosbyshells. To quote Charles Dickens from A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”

Let's begin with the best! Our son, Allen, married Ember Aiken on November 16th! They became engaged on Tybee Island near Savannah in January at the same place where Ember's parents were engaged. It was wonderfully good fortune that Ember was able to spend Christmas of 2023 with Allen’s grandmother Caroline Bosbyshell.

Ember and Allen live in Midtown, Atlanta. Ember is a yoga influencer; you can take one of her yoga challenges by following her on Instagram @JourneytoLeisure. Allen works for the State of Georgia financing public housing and manages several Airbnbs. They love to travel and honeymooned in Hawaii, after a small marriage ceremony in Todos Santos, Mexico. Their wedding registry is at Registry/williamandchantel2024. Cheers to our new daughter-in-law!

Maura and I are now full-time professional artists. I concluded a 20+ year career of teaching Art & Design at local junior colleges. Maura wrapped up her data science contracts to concentrate on textile design for fabric and wallpaper. Visit her design site: Bosbyshell Art and Home. Maura and I both have studios in the North Davidson Arts District of Charlotte. 

This past spring, my Climate Conversation: the Language of Trees solo exhibition of drawings was a great success despite hurtles including the collapse of the Charlotte Art League, the exhibit venue and my studio. You can see the Memory Tree poster on his website: Bosbyshell Art Studio. The Climate Conversation exhibit will travel to New Yok state in 2025 for an installation and exhibit at St. Bonaventure College.

We spent most of May in Provence, France. I took an art class in the small town of San Raphael on the Mediterranean Sea while Maura explored Provence. We then traveled to Gordes, Nice, Arles, Avignon, and Nimes. Our favorite town was Vaison-la-Romaine with its extensive Roman ruins and museum.

Sadly, in April, my mother Caroline Thomas Bosbyshell died of a stroke at the age of 90. She lived an incredible life. She was one of Jack Bogles’ secretaries at Vanguard and grew up on Indian Rocks Beach during World War II when German submarines lurked offshore. She was a gregarious guiding light to all who encountered her. She will be buried at Bonaventure Cemetery in January of 2025. We all missed her terribly. Maura and I have now lost all our parents. My father, Bill Bosbyshell, died in 2019. Maura’s parents, John and Helen Kelly, died in 2018 and 2019, respectively at ages 91 and 93.

We were so fortunate and blessed to have our parents in our lives for so long. They all had wonderful relationships with their grandchildren, including our son Allen.

We loved all the visitors we hosted in Charlotte over the year. All are welcome at the Bosbyshell home.

May the love of God shine upon you and your family this Christmas and into 2025.

With love, yours:

Wil & Maura Bosbyshell

Caroline Bosbyshell

Caroline on her wedding day.

Climate Conversation Exhibit, note ceilings are 25 feet tall. 

Maura walks the Coliseum in Arles, France.

Midnight Sun Series of prints will be on display in 2025. 

Plaza in Todos Santo, Baha Mexico, the city was the site of Allen's and Ember's wedding. 

Wil in the Roman Museum in Vaison la Romaine, France. 

Drawing 20 in Wil's Tree series on the climate.

Both families gather before the wedding!

Pre-wedding yoga relaxation session. We needed it! 

Desert Beauty

Maura and Wil before the wedding. 

Cousins. 

Allen and his life long friend from day care. 

Wedding at the golden hour! 

Below are three of Maura's Wallpaper designs! 

Some are based on Wil's art; others are her unique creations. 

Crab Scatter - Tropical Pink

 Blossoms - Dark Teal

Hibiscus - Cameo Sage

 

 

 

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.