Amid all the talk of refugees and immigrants, and the mean-spirited people who want to stand in their way as they seek to become Americans, I thought I might just repeat here part of an article I posted about five years ago.
I wish these people had known my mother. And two friends of hers, Adolf Schmidt and his wife, Leni.
Adolf and Leni (pronounced Laney) emigrated from Germany to Hettinger, N.D., in the years after World War II. Adolf had a cousin who ran a cafe in Hettinger, and they came here, with their preschool age daughter, Elke, to work in that cafe. Adolf was a trained chef, and he cooked while Leni waited on tables. Through hard work and good fortune, they were able to buy that restaurant from Adolf’s cousin. They worked 18 hours a day, seven days a week, and in their little spare time, they learned English and studied for their U.S. citizenship test.
After a few years, Leni became pregnant. She worked right up until it was time to have her baby, and then was whisked off to the brand new Hettinger Community Memorial Hospital, the finest medical facility she had ever seen. She gave birth to a son, which she and Adolf had agreed to name Kent. Adolf stayed behind at the cafe that day, and at closing time, he trotted up the hill to that hospital as fast as his short, fat little German legs would take him.
He found Leni propped up in her hospital bed. She looked up at him and said, in her still-broken English, “Adolf, we have a son. His name is Kent.” And then, her face beaming in joy and wonderment, she said “And guess what? He is already an American.”
My mother was the O.B. nurse on duty at the hospital that night, and she was standing at Leni’s bedside when Adolf came in. She loved to tell that story. She called it “the miracle of America.” She said that, as important as that son was to Leni and Adolf, equally important was the fact that their son was a United States citizen. By birth.
Adolf and Leni could imagine nothing more wonderful, more important, than being a United States citizen. And they could only marvel that despite the fact they were not yet United States citizens, because of that wonderful document called the United States Constitution, their son was. Their son was an American.
My mother had many fond memories of her 40-plus years in nursing, but none more wonderful than that one.
Adolf and Leni and Elke eventually became naturalized citizens. Adolf and Leni ran the cafe until they sold it and retired. Kent was a citizen from the moment he took his first breath.
“He is already an American.” Surely some of the best words ever spoken in North Dakota.
loren a myran January 28, 2020 at 9:55 am
This is a sweet story Jim. Too many Americans follow Trump’s immigration policy and don’t care.Reply
Cleve Teske January 28, 2020 at 4:21 pm
Being from Scranton – I am very familiar with Adolph’s Gasthaus in Hettinger. Didn’t know this story and thanks so much for sharing. What a great, heart-warming, bright spot to the day. One story about Adolph that I recall my cousin Carol Sipma Franks telling when the town preparing for a Veteran’s Day celebration. When Adolph was asked if he was a veteran, he answered in the affirmative – only he was a veteran on the other side!