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- Herausgeber: Books on Demand
- Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
- Serie: Leben
- Sprache: Englisch
It may well be that what is described in the book turned out to be a bit hearty, but everything happened as it is stated there. Sure there are a lot of memoirs and maybe these are the ones where you could say it's a normal life, but that's also the view of how I experienced my existence. But that doesn't mean that I blame anyone around me or anything like that, it's all based on my own decisions.
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Seitenzahl: 112
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
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Eduard Wagner 2017
Contents
Preface
December 1959 parental home
September 1966 school
September 1970 high school
September 1971 boarding school
August 1972 weekend house
1972 first kiss
Winter 1975 sale
September 1977 apprenticeship
September 1978 First apartment
May 1978 color blindness
October 1980 Federal Army
September 1980 profession
July 1986
January 1988 employed by father
September 1992 self-employment
November 1988
Fall 1995
July 1998 vacation
August 2000
1990 - 1991 apartment
1980 – addiction
June 2001 bankruptcy
2000 magistrate / finance
March 2006 death of my father
March 2006 extortion
December 13, 2006
August 2008
2006 to 2011 all about care
May 2011 Neocathomenat
April 2012 prison sentence
Dismissed December 10, 2012
December 24, 2014 ends
February 2016 normal life
Fall 2015 dance events
Family
Friends
Partnerships
Neo-Catholic end
Customers
Résumé
To my person
Preface
You can see it how you want: Are these memoirs or is it just a sequence of events in my life. I would like to say that at the time I had experienced this, I believed that this was correct. I hardly had any advice from relatives or friends as to whether that was the right thing to do or not. But it was always a question of whether I would have taken this into account. Of course, in the course of the following pages there are always places where I am on the verge of legality. But since these were sometimes ago and I personally stand by what I did or didn't do then, I don't see any problems if these consequences arise. Whether this is a fulfilled or happy life is not up to me, but to the reader, but I will draw a conclusion in the end.
Family 1970
December 1959 parental home
At the end of 1959 I saw the light of day in Vienna, although I was there but can hardly remember it. Came as the second born, my brother was already 6 years old in a Danube Swabian family. To explain my origins: At the end of the Second World War, my parents were expelled from what is now Serbia by partisans at gunpoint and their lives were threatened. Since they belonged to the group of ethnic Germans (Danube Swabians), their mother tongue was German, which means that they could also speak Serbo-Croatian. Their ancestors were currently settled by Prinz Eugen in what was then Yugoslavia in order to strengthen the infrastructure there, which they succeeded in doing. In the turmoil of World War II, they were then driven out by partisans from both the north and the south with the threat of their lives. By this time, they had achieved prosperity and reputation, where there was no hostility whatsoever between the Yugoslavs living there and the German-speaking population. My parents (12 and 14 years old) and their family were welcomed in 1944 with the words: What are you doing there? Why do you speak German so well? Sneak your way home. Back then it was just the reception of "foreigners". One can no longer imagine today. Well back to me. Had an easy childhood, at least until I was 10 years old. My father went about his business, which he had already got to know in Serbia, and my mother was, as was still the custom back then, a housewife. As far as my parents' means allowed, I got everything from toys to bicycles and the like. In the summer I went to a guesthouse in southern Lower Austria every year with my brother and my mother for two to three weeks. My father, since he had to work during the week for financial reasons, came to us on Friday by moped and stayed until Sunday. It should be noted that he did not get his driver's license until 1972. The reason for this was that he had already started selling newspapers and that of course wasn't that easy with a moped. At that time, I also got to know a family who lived near the pension. There were two daughters in this one, one five years younger and the other one year older.
September 1966 school
Start of my school career. In elementary school I was in an all-boys class. A graduate of the then Pädag introduced herself as a teacher. She was about 25 years old and a beautiful woman as far as I could tell at that age. I can still remember an anecdote that shocked me quite a bit at the time. At the beginning of my school days, I came to my mother and told her the following: You, mother, the teacher painted her fingers bright red. How can you do something like that? The background was that teacher Ulrike had only painted her fingernails, which was not yet commonplace for me at the time. I think my mother turned to the side at the time and probably had to smile, then explained to me what that was all about. Well, I graduated from elementary school with very good grades, apart from painting and drawing. But I also had respect for the "woman teacher", who punished offenses with "standing in the corner". The way to school, back then everything was still on foot, was always a challenge, because there were always one, two or three school colleagues with whom you could juggle on the sidewalk.
September 1970 high school
After I kept dreaming of the dream job “doctor” at this age and my primary school certificate was accordingly, my parents registered me in the neighboring district in the high school. In 1969 my father had returned his trade license for the repair of soda water bottles because it was no longer profitable and he subsequently turned to a new job, namely selling daily newspapers. That means he sold the largest newspaper in our country as a colporteur in the evening until about 11 p.m. on a stand. Since this was halfway profitable, my mother also began to sell newspapers, whatever the weather. With this they could save themselves a lot of money over the years, both of us, that is my brother and I, well-being was not neglected. Well, now I was in the first grade of the humanistic high school. On Mondays there was always math and English one after the other. Well, that went halfway for a while, but after a while I got sick and my parents wrote me a confirmation that I was sick. But since the teaching staff did not take this paper from me, I kept it. Now Monday with English and math became more and more repugnant to me, so I got the idea to go “blue” on one or the other Monday and not go to school. I then produced the confirmation that I was sick myself with my parents' signature. Since it was mostly the same illnesses and the signature was no longer the best, it happened as it had to. Suddenly my parents received a summons to come to school. Of course, they were asked about my missing days and the resulting grades and they were accordingly surprised or disappointed in me. The consequence of this was that the school condemned me to a “cataclysm” (4 hours of writing punishment alone in school). To the best of my knowledge, this type of punishment no longer exists today. Finally, the school year ended with two fives. So that means I had to repeat the 1st class, as it was then still required.
September 1971 boarding school
After this decisive event for me, the family council met in the form of my parents and my seventeen-year-old brother. It would have to be sent in advance that my father was in a German-speaking boarding school for a few years during his school days in Serbia. Thus, advice was given as to which school I should continue to go to. Since, of course, at the age of 11 I had no idea or only limited what was in store for me, I had to accept the decision of the family council. But since I was a Protestant from birth, my registration at Catholic boarding schools, such as school brothers in Strebersdorf, was not accepted. This decision meant that I went to a boarding school in the 13th district, which also included a humanistic grammar school. I quarreled with this decision on the part of my parents for a long time, because I was more or less locked up there from Sunday evening to Saturday noon. If I had "broken" something during the week, there was of course no outcome on the weekend either. Fortunately, that was rarely the case in the 13th district. One thing was interesting in this house, because the head of this institution was the grandson of Adalbert Stifter (his name was the same). This director was an avid pipe smoker, where the smoke could be smelled all over the building and, of increasing intensity, we knew that danger was imminent. I spent 3 years at Himmelhof, that's how the boarding school there was named. Then I moved to the boarding school of the same name in the 2nd district with the same tutor Franz. There, however, the customs were the same as in the 13th district. That means, if there were misconduct on my part during the week, I was involuntarily allowed to spend the weekend with punishment in the boarding school. Since the supervision there was not very great and I have of course also gotten older, there were often weekends in the boarding school. At that time, at the age of 13, I made the acquaintance of cigarettes, which also resulted in me being forced to stay in the home. This friendship with nicotine has stayed with me to this day. The whole thing went reasonably well up to 4th grade and then we got a Carinthian teacher in biology who had just finished her studies. For us students between the ages of 14 and 15, of course, she was a challenge in terms of puberty, because she was a pretty woman with a corresponding figure. So, I let myself be carried away to one statement during the lesson that earned me the worst grade of conduct. In addition, I also collected the worst grades in various objects, so that I had to repeat the 4th grade. This had succeeded and so, since this was no longer taught in the house, I had to go to the 5th grade of the humanistic grammar school in the neighboring district. Since I still had the desire to become a doctor, I assumed I would use ancient Greek, as I also liked the Latin language with very passable grades. It was interesting at the time that I ended up in a mixed class for the first time, but there were only 6 girls and the rest of the boys. In the first semester I was still a little eager to learn, but since I didn't like ancient Greek at all, the grades looked accordingly. It didn't stop with this subject alone and so I would have had to repeat the class, only that was no longer possible at the time. So, my parents decided, since I was now 17 years old, that I would start an apprenticeship. When I was about 16, when I was still in boarding school, I was approached by Ernst, who was the son of a friend of my mother's, whether I might not want to go to folk dances every Friday evening. That was of course a difficult undertaking at the boarding school, as it was not always the case that going out from there. In the end, I was finally allowed to go out on Friday from 6pm to 10pm. The folk dancing took place in the home of the Danube Swabians in the 3rd district. When I first got there, I found about 30 young men and women, of which I was one of the youngest. A native Danube Swabian introduced himself to me as the leader, who rehearsed the folk dances with us. But since I was a downright anti-talent when it came to dancing, this man also had his difficulties teaching me. I can still remember an episode in which the supervisor took my thigh in his hand because I did not understand the sequence of an alternating step. Probably nothing has changed about that to this day. On these evenings we studied folk dances with 8 to 10 couples, which we then performed in the ball season in January and February. In the course of time, a group of people of the same age developed who went bowling twice a week in the Vienna Prater. This means training once a week and championship on Friday. Since we had a sponsor, a shipping company, that didn't cost us too much. Around 1982 7 men and women then sailed with this company on a 10-man sailing ship from Split to Dubrovnik in the summer. Every day that week we went to an island, took a break and then drove on. It was a wonderful experience.
