My grandpa, Frederic C. Barth, Sr., died when I was 18 months old, in December 1956. My only "memories" of him are really just my own imaginations, based on black and white photos, family stories, and a few artifacts he left behind, such as his 1917 Navy bellbottom pants, and large German beer steins prominently displayed in our home. I knew that he was the son of German immigrants, not only because of his name, but because of the stories. He left high school for a year during World War I, to serve in the Navy (and avoid direct conflict with his German "cousins"). His father, Karl Friedrich ("Charlie") was a cousin/manager of the infamous Bergdoll brewers/brewery, and we were surrounded with relatives with names such as Fritz, Ludwig, Karl, Rudolf, and Elsa.
Several years ago, my dad (Fritz, Jr.) showed me a diary written by his father in 1922, when he and his friend hitchhiked, walked and hopped trains from Philadelphia to California. As I read it, my curiosity turned to obsession, for several reasons. First, his story was full of adventure, and he passed down his penchant for road trips, first to Dad, and eventually to us. But more importantly, as I read his diary, it began to stir up in me all sorts of feelings and fascinations, and it seemed as though I was beginning to get to know him somewhat, as if looking through a dim and foggy window. Thanks to his meticulous description of meals and automobiles, quirky people and quaint expressions, terrain and town names, wardrobe and sleeping quarters (often in a sheriff's "guest house"), I felt as though I was reliving a little bit of history.
The fact that it was family history made it all the more compelling, and I determined to make it available to our extended family, by transcribing the diary into a computer document. As I did, and as I began to trace his route along several road maps, a thought began to form, which eventually grew into a dream: Why not take our own road trip, following the same trail (more or less) that he took nearly 90 years ago? And why not invite Dad and my brothers and my son to join us? It would be a great way to honor the man who was taken from us prematurely, and hopefully to understand him better. But it could also be a great opportunity to build on his heritage, and to write our own chapter to inspire our grandchildren.
On Friday, May 27, 2011, we will be flying to Denver, to pick up my grandpa's trail, and follow it through the Rockies, Utah, and the Nevada desert to San Francisco. It would be impractical to follow his trail all the way from Philadelphia, and for practical reasons, only my dad and my son, Aaron, will be able to join me. Nevertheless, I have an inexplicable but deep anticipation that this trip is going to uncover and reveal things that we can only guess at ahead of time. I believe it is going to be a milestone for the three of us. I can hardly wait!
(I hope to update this blog along the way, so sign up at the top of the page, if you want an email notification when I do.)
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