A Riverboat Captain

“Man overboard!” “Man overboard!” I am sure these words reverberated in my great grandfather’s head many times during his life. My maternal great grandfather Henry was a riverboat captain in Germany during the late 1800’s. His son, my grandfather Paul Herman, contrived a way to escape whatever confines he felt at home in Germany and head for America. If I understand the story correctly, he threw a large rock over the side of the riverboat and Henry thought my grandfather had fallen into the river. The search for him in the river proved unproductive as my grandfather was well hidden on the riverboat and later made his exit and traveled to America. Speaking no English, he sailed from his homeland and came to America as many people did in that era. Paul entered the U.S.A. by way of Ellis Island. I have no record of his travels and adventures after entering the States. I have been told that he was in Chicago in 1900, but I do not know if this is true or not.

Reaching America, some time passed before my grandfather sent word back to his family in Germany that he was okay and where he was living. It must have seemed like someone from the dead had just communicated with them. Grand Pa, as I called my grandfather, would eventually go back to Germany for a visit. I am not sure how many times he went back, but I have always thought it was multiple times.

I never heard him discuss his decision to come and stay in America. Apparently he was satisfied with his choice as the move was a permanent one. He lived, worked and made his home in this country. Grand Pa corresponded with his folks in Germany after he came to America. We have letters Grand Pa received from Germany during and after World War II. For years they remained in a box. They were written in German and after the death of my grandparents, nobody in the family could translate them. Recently a couple moved near our home and they both speak German fluently. They graciously agreed to translate the letters, and we learned of the hardships the kinfolks were experiencing in Germany because of the war. Being an immigrant with limited education, Grand Pa could do little to help them as he was struggling to provide for his own family. There were so many aching hearts on both sides of the Atlantic because of the war.

How Grand Pa came to Texas remains a mystery to me. I do not know how or when he met my grandmother. She was also of German descent and apparently from West or Leroy, as I remember kinfolks being from there and the Waco area. Grand Pa and Grandmother had six children, my mother being the oldest and the only girl.

For a time my grandparents lived in the Centerview and Sampson areas, southwest of LaRue. I remember them living on FM 317 northeast of Athens during the late 1940’s and early fifties. Then they lived in Kennedale, Texas, where he died. After his death, she returned to Athens.

My grandparents were religious people. At my grandfather’s funeral, one of the neighbors related that through the years he often saw my grandfather walking to church with his Bible tucked under his arm. He had great trials in his life, but he also had a great faith in God. Because of his faith, I think the following scripture is an appropriate description of him. Galatians 3:11 “…The righteous will live by faith.”