My mother arrived here in Japan tonight for a week-long visit. We’re planning to travel to Sado Island for four days. Also in the good news department: tomorrow is my last day of work before an 11-day vacation. You could say I’m excited. And it would be an understatement.
Category: Family & Friends
Four Generations On Fuji-san
My grandmother, Isabel Alexander Gerhard, was born in 1910 at the foot of Mt. Fuji, in Gotemba. The photo above (larger version) shows her on the mountain when she was six years old — likely in late August, just after her sixth birthday. She is the one in the background, fourth from the right. The rest of the party includes my great-grandmother, great-grandfather, a great-aunt, my grandmother’s older brother, Bob, and her sisters, Frankie and Mary.
In my grandmother’s memoirs, she quotes the story of the climb as written by her mother:
During the summer of 1916 we all climbed Fuji. Sister Bessie went with us. As we plodded on, we often stopped to rest, and many Japanese climbers offered to carry little six-year-old Isabel, but she refused all help. The night was spent at the eighth station, where Bob got mountain-sick, and Frankie, although tied up in a cotton bag, was nearly eaten up by fleas. Wrapped up in our bedding we went outside to see a wonderful sunrise which tinted the fleecy clouds all the colors of the rainbow. Here and there through rifts in the clouds we had glimpses of the blue lakes around the base of the mountain. It was bitterly cold, but we were protected somewhat from the wind by wrapping pieces of matting around us. Here and there were vents in the side of the mountain from which issued hot air, where we could warm our hands.
On the way down, the children enjoyed running and sliding in the scoria. Isabel and I were all in by the time we reached the third station, so we hired a horse, Isabel riding in front of me. The path was so steep that we kept slipping forward on to the horse’s neck, so we finally decided that it took more energy to keep on the horse than to walk. It was a tired crowd who arrived at the house in Ninooka the evening of the second day.
This, of course, was in the days before a road was built to the Fifth Station, which effectively cut the climb in half for most climbers. My grandmother, from her memoirs:
I’m not sure how many times I climbed Fuji. Maybe something like six and two halves. The Japanese have a saying, “If you don’t climb Fuji, you are a fool. If you climb more than once, you’re a fool.” So I guess I’m hopeless. The climbing season is strictly July and August. But Paul (PVG) climbed it with two friends on December 31, 1935. Bob Alexander climbed in the winter, and in April 1981, Bob and Sharon climbed from Station Five to the top using crampons and ice axes. We are unhappy with the road built up to the Fifth Station. It opens the climb up to too many people and litterbugs. There used to be so many pilgrims dressed in white with their Fuji poles. When Paul, Marilyn and I climbed in 1967, we didn’t see one single pilgrim on the mountain.
Paul (PVG) is my grandfather, Paul V. Gerhard. Marilyn is one of my three aunts who were born in Tokyo before the family moved from Japan to the United States in 1941.
The photo below is of my grandfather on Fuji. The caption on the back of the photo, in my grandmother’s handwriting, reads: “Paul V. Gerhard on the summit of Fuji San Jan. 1, 1934.” That date seems to conflict with the 1935 climb she mentioned in her memoirs — I imagine it’s the same climb and the date on either the photo or in the memoirs is wrong.
As my grandmother mentioned, my parents — Bob and Sharon — climbed Fuji in April 1981 during a family visit to Japan with my grandparents. The photo below is of them at the summit — no sunrise for them. During their climb, my two sisters and I stayed at a hut near the Fifth Station. I was 13 at the time.
I made the summit of Fuji last September, but the weather at the top was so miserably cold, windy and wet that I didn’t take a summit photo. This shot is on the way down, after dropping below the clouds that encircled the top of the mountain. I wrote about the climb last September.
I’d like to climb Fuji again, just for the chance of seeing the sunrise and the view from the summit. But next time, I think I’d better start from the bottom rather than from the Fifth Station. After all, if my grandmother could do it at age six…
Paul Gerhardt, 1607-1676
Ironically, I appear to be anchoring the end of a line of religious men. Family records trace a direct male line back eleven generations over 400 years, through a handful of reverends and missionaries, to the father of the man pictured in the stamp above.
Paul Gerhardt, remembered on this 1957 German stamp, was a Lutheran pastor and hymn-writer in 17th century Germany. (Coincidentally, my father’s family was living in Germany at the time this stamp was issued.) His words are still found in hymnals throughout the world.
Gerhardt lived during the religious conflict of the Thirty Years War, and preached at the church of St. Nicholas in Berlin, where he became immensely popular even as the conflict between Lutherans and the Reformed Church raged.
From Christian Singers of Germany, by Catherine Winkworth:
His sermons, as well as his writings, were so free from controversy that many Calvinists attended his services, and his hymns had no greater admirer than the pious Electress Louisa, who herself belonged to the Reformed Church.
However, he lost his appointment at St. Nicholas after refusing to sign an edict drawn up by Prussian Elector Frederick William I, prohibiting ministers from both the Lutheran and Reformed Churches from attacking each other’s doctrines. Although Gerhardt apparently refrained from such attacks anyway, he felt the edict violated the legal rights of the clergy.
Accordingly a great number of the clergy refused to sign, and were deposed; and these were in general strongly supported by their flocks. Nearly the whole of the Berlin clergy took this part, and one of the most resolute among them was Paul Gerhardt, who being very ill at the time, assembled his brethren around his sick-bed, and entreated them to be steadfast in asserting their right to freedom of speech.
Gerhardt had already lost three of his five children, and during the time following his removal from office his wife and a fourth child died, as well. Apparently, many of his most beautiful hymns were written during this time.
Meanwhile the city of Berlin did not take the loss of its favorite preacher quietly. Meetings were held and petitions addressed to the Elector — first by the burghers and guilds of trade, then by the Town Council, and finally by the Estates of Brandenburg, whose entreaty was said to have the support in private of the Electress herself.
Eventually, the Elector offered to reinstate Gerhardt based on his history as a conscientious preacher. But Gerhardt refused when it became clear he would be expected to follow the spirit of the edict even if he wouldn’t be required to sign it. Gerhardt then moved out of Berlin, accepting a post in Saxony, where he lived until his death in 1676.
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What to make of descriptions of an ancestor who lived four hundred years ago when certain character traits sound a hell of a lot like oneself? And like one’s father? And grandfather?
He had a very tender and scrupulous conscience, and wherever a question of conscience seemed to him to be involved, he was liable to great mental conflict and an exaggerated estimate of trifles.
Playing In The Snow At Midnight
Chopstick Fiasco
The above picture was taken in 1981 during a family trip to Japan. Though my Grandpa and I shared impeccable taste in fashion, we definitely did not share skills with the chopsticks. Having lived the first thirty years of his life in Japan, he was a pro. I, on the other hand, can be seen using a crude scrape and shovel method. And look at the hand position! The chopsticks look like they’re upside-down.
After my embarrassing display of ineptness during that trip to Japan, I was promptly enrolled at the International Academy for the Development of Gifted Foreign Chopstick Users where, after years of stern tutelage that pushed me to my physical and emotional limits, I became the celebrated and much-honored chopstick master that I am today.
Uncle Mike’s New Niece
Joni Grace Leahy was born today at 12:30am PST in Seattle. The little lady is presented by Proud Mom (and super sister), Tama, and Super Daddy, John.
This is my first nephew/niece. I’m sooo excited, but disappointed to be half a world away.
To see a cute QuickTime movie (listen for John saying, “Oh, good one!”), click here.
Is That a Healthy Glow, Or Just the Setting Sun?
Wow. This is the first picture I’ve seen of my very pregnant sister. Um, Tama… did you just run a marathon or something? Why isn’t the rest of your body all big and bloated?
Photo credit: Dad (taken at Luther Burbank Park in Seattle)