Autobiography    Dieter Rolf Fischer   Book 11

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  (Pictures by author, unless indicated)                  Book 11 / Ch. 21                           Written / Published 31.3 - 4.4.2013

The previous chapter came live at approx. 1.30 am (Adelaide time). I retired to bed. No long afterwards, still awake, a strong thunder bolt made the dogs bark. I checked the clock radio. It showed 1.55 am.

 Chapter 20 had ended with 20 'Daywind Songs of Calvary'. The next day it was very windy in Adelaide, but not stormy. Unlike in Northern Victoria and across the border in New South Wales, where viscous tornadoes caused havoc.

This chapter continues our travels through Germany. The mysteries at home, however, never stop.


21.  On time - Zloty    

The previous chapter ended with a little magic. The same nanosecond I had written the word first, it was spoken on a US television show. At the time I didn't know that the word first featured rather prominently somewhere else. On the day of publishing (in the US it was 19.3.13, the tenth anniversary of the start of the Iraq war) the title in my Daily Bread Bible reading was: FIRST THINGS FIRST.

That day, it also happened that the word heart, one I had encountered and written about much in the last few weeks, is the last word on that page. Considering that in the entire 90-day booklet, the word heart appears only 4 times under the bottom line, I find this remarkable.

Before continuing our overseas travels, first allow me to write one more encounter with the word heart. It also has to do with Our Daily Bread Bible reading and fits right into the introduction regarding tornados. 

The sequence of events started with this comment by a weather guru on the US TV Show Today: "Debris during a tornado does not fly straight up, but 5 degrees to the left and 10 degrees right", or words to that effect.

To me this sounded strange! If it's true we all learned something. My mind recognized code 5/10 and started thinking. (When I start thinking, it's time to fasten your seatbelts...) I wondered, if the word heart in Our Daily Bread bible booklet is indeed on the left and on the right of the page. 

I checked it out and proved correct. Both code the 5 / 10, as well as left / right were just so: 

On March 5 the word heart is on the right side, on March 10 it is on the left.

But it came again. As mentioned, heart is only 4 times below the bottom line in the 3-months booklet. The only other time, the fourth mention of heart, is on the page of May 10, code  5.10 again! On that day, the thoughtful text, under the bottom line, has an Easter ring to it: "The nail-pierced hands of Jesus reveal the love-filled heart of God."


Photo off TV screen: Hillsong Service, Easter Sunday Morning, 2013.


t = heart (love). 

Note the word grace in eight languages. German is number 1, maybe because Gnade starts with G and ends in de? But then it should be at the end, because Gnade includes the letters end. 

Just now, after pasting the picture, I see the a /o code: Go end! To be bi-lingual can be a pain. To be bi-lingual with codes on your brain, is a pain! Thanks be to God, HE helps us in our pain.

- - - - - - -


(Back to travels in Germany)

There was so much to think about as I sat on the train to Berlin; Essen, Minden, Steele - could it all have been co-incident? No, no and no again! God was with me! He was (and still is) showing me, perhaps in an unorthodox, mysterious way, that HE cares about all I do and each road I travel.

My train rolled into the busy Berlin Hauptbahnhof (main train station) at exactly 17.20 hrs, the scheduled time. That's how most German trains run, right on time. I had to smile once, after hearing this complaint from one of my German friends, who uses trains frequently: "Regional Express trains always run one or two minutes late".

The heavy traffic did not bother me, as I cycled from the station to my host in Steglitz. I had stayed with the same friend in 2007. My visit became a bit of a walk down memory lane. Passing by, I took a photo outside the office of Angela Merkel, Germany's chancellor, one of the most powerful women in the world. 

My friend Elsa saw me riding my pushbike even before I got to their apartment. She was riding the cobble-stone, narrow roads of Steglitz to go shopping. It was a happy re-union. For women first things come first. We went shopping. 

The next day I recalled, how five years earlier I had wanted to visit Poland, but circumstances did not allow it at the time. Since I had no plans for my first day in Berlin, and the weather forecast was favourable, why not take an 80 km bike ride through the former DDR (Deutsche Democratic Republic) to Poland and return by train? Since my hostess was busy that day, it fitted in perfectly. 

The most difficult task was to find my way through the suburbs of Berlin. With only a crude map, but much enthusiasm, I picked up route 96, which took me from Lichtenrade, via Neu-Zittau to Fuerstenwalde, a lovely city I would have loved to spend more time in.

Continuing due east, riding through the village of Hartmannsdorf I saw a big, slightly overweight lady standing outside a house by the gate. As I passed I heard her call out something. I turned to find out what the problem was. There was no problem, only a sign - Holly's Gallerie Cafe'. Her place was right on the Oder-Spree Cycle way. Her idea of direct marketing, calling out to passing cyclists, was absolutely brilliant. It got me in.

I was her only guest at the time. Customer service was second to none! Besides baking cakes and making coffee, Holly was an artist. After she told me, her vision is almost zero, I thought of renaming her-  Holly, minus one L.



Holly in her garden Cafe Gallery at Hartmannsdorf. For 5 Euros I got two cups of freshly brewed coffee, a big piece of delicious cake, two bread rolls and a bottle of mineral water for along the way. The address is No.2.. If I inserted this into the postcode 15528. we'd create Love Won - 228. I just noticed the phone numbers ends in digits 1963 ...  Her surname has an Easter ring to it - Holl nail. 

Just before Briesen the cycle track followed 4 km through this forest. The otherwise sealed path was mostly dirt, unsuitable for thin tyres. I fell off twice. But the silver birch trees looked pretty.

Numerous times I had to stop and ask locals for direction. On a country lane, after talking to a local, I found a 20 cent coin on the ground. I read the street name:  Kiesgrube. Kies means gravel. It also slang for 'money'. Made sense!

Cycling through East Germany certainly felt like being in a foreign country. 

The roads were narrow, some a little rough, but I loved the experience. Looking back, it was one of the most memorable rides in 2012.


The ride from Berlin to Frankfurt / Oder took about 7hours. This city must not be confused with Frankfurt on the Main River, which is Germany's Financial hub.

It surprised me, how easy it was to visit Poland. The other side of the Oder river is already Poland. The town is called Slobice. At the time, on Sept. 21, 2013, the border crossing, the bridge, was closed due to construction works. There was heavy pedestrian traffic, but no passport control or any other type of controls. It only took a few moments, riding my Giant across this bridge and for the first time I visited an Eastern European country. 

As I was enjoying the brief ride around the streets of Slobice, I thought of my best friend in Adelaide. He is of Polish parents. I decided to buy a postcard to send to him. At a small kiosk I had difficulty in making myself understood. They did not know what I meant by picture postcard. When somebody finally translated and I needed to pay for it, I found out that Poland does not have the Euro. They have kept the Zloty. The lady, however, without questioning, accepted Euro cents.

When I tried to pay for a stamp at the post office, it seemed strange, only a kilometre or so away from the Eurozone, the post office clerk would not accept Euros. I was about to leave, when a kind gentlemen, standing next in line, saw my predicament. Without hesitation, I did not even ask, he paid for my postage stamp.

- - - - - - -


AMAZING TIMING! As if I was writing fiction, take a look at this cross-word Puzzle!

Let me explain, why I find the timing of the word Zloty absolutely divine:

After writing the previous paragraph, about my first ever trip to Poland and the encounter with their currency, Zloty, I finished writing for the day. To relax later that evening, I picked up the cross-word puzzle pad I had bought during this, my 2012 overseas trip. Ever since I had gradually done each cross-word, page by page.

I was stunned at what I found, searching for the very first word to start off the cross-word puzzle - Zloty. I restarted the computer and scanned Zloty.

Taking a closer look at it, I see - Y Z - LOT, lover of truth! The letter Z will feature again very prominently. Read on!

In moments like these, I am bursting to share my experience with another human. I wanted my wife to see it. But she was relaxing. There was no interest. She would call it co-incidence, anyway. 

Am I glad there is ONE, who knows our thoughts afar off (Psalm 139:2). HE whispered to me, in comfort: "Just trust me, I'm there - and always right on time! Remember guard your heart?"

"How [truly] precious are your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand." (Psalm 139:17, 18).

- - - - - - -


Bordercrossing  -  Citybridge


Detour via U 8.

Warsaw via Autobahn [Route] 12. 

My first ever visit to Poland was the shortest I ever had to a foreign country - about one hour. Yet, riding casually for those few kilometers, I picked up a ten cent coin. How ironic, no Euro cents accepted in the post office, but I found one on the road!

Above: Looking from Slobice, Poland across the Oder River toward Frankfurt.


Right: Shops and flats, just across the border, over the Oder River bridge. 

Right: Slubice,Poland

On the evening of 21.9.13 I had to be back in Berlin for a concert. 

My 17.33 train from Frankfurt, it was announced, was going to be 5 Minutes late. It was right on time. 


That Friday September 21, like this chapter 21, was not yet over. My friend Elsa, who I was staying with in Berlin, was a possibility thinker. Possibility thinkers, hopefully with noble intentions, often make decisions asking - why not? 

Elsa had been given free tickets for a classical concert that same evening. To cycle to Frankfurt/Oder from Berlin, pay a visit to Poland, catch the train back to Berlin and get ready for the concert to be seated by 8 pm seemed impossible.

"But why not", suggested Elsa, "if I meet you outside the concert hall, bring some fresh clothes, you change in the men's toilet, and ...?" In Australia we would say ..and Bob's your uncle; meaning, all will be well.

The trouble with possibility thinkers - if they have 15 minutes to spare, they think: What could I do, making use of this 1/4 hour? Elsa must have thought this that Friday evening. I was on time, even before 7.30 PM, despite getting off at the wrong S-Bahn station.

Konzerthaus Berlin, Gendarmenmarkt

Whatever the reason, at 7.45 pm there was still no sign of Elsa, who was to bring fresh clothes and some deodorant! This gave me time to take a few photos.


It was a superb night in a fashionable part of the former East Berlin. The Deutscher Dom at one end of the huge square, the French Cathedral at the other.


Finally, with about ten minutes to kick-off, sorry sound-off, Elsa came rushing toward me, shoved a plastic bag into my hand and informed me that the upstairs toilets would be less busy for me to change clothes in.


I was still stepping into my trousers, when a bell rang: "Oh no, not a fire alarm, with your pants down?" It wasn't. We must have taken up our seat about 30 seconds before the members of the orchestra took their places by their instruments.


<<< From the diary:

The conductor that evening was none other than Ivan Fischer. The music was different to that of James Last, but unfortunately there was no segment where the audience can choose their favourite piece of music. I had received a free ticket, after all.


Doesn't the name Ivan invite lovers of Roman numerals to play games?


How interesting, what I just discovered! In my diary it says that the donor of the free tickets was a gentleman named Norman! Playing with Roman numbers ( may not be that out of order? 

Hey, what did I see next? Now it all makes sense: IV are Roman numerals! Norman = N Roman!

- - - - - - -

By the main door, Elsa had picked up a one cent coin, after I had pointed it out to her. It takes two possibility thinkers to not only spot a coin, but to pick it up, when no one else was. (Of course, it must be hard to bend down low, when dressed up in a tuxedo!) 

This was the third coin that day - 31 cents in total. Three coins a day - a rather high average. (Nice word,!)

- - - - - - -


There was a reason, why I came to Berlin that particular weekend; God's perfect timing,  I had read three weeks earlier, on a noticeboard outside a church, that a big pro-life march and rally was to be held in Berlin on September 22nd, 2012. Regular readers would know how passionate I feel about standing up for the right of the unborn. I knew I'd be there. Not even a football match in Hamburg was more important than this event.

My friend Elsa is also a bike rider. On Saturday morning (22.9.12) she and I explored Berlin on our two-wheelers. It was rather cold (about 14 deg. C), rain was threatening, but held off. We visited Berlin's famous landmarks, such as the Potsdamer Platz, the Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie as well as the TV Tower on the Alexander Platz.


I recall a Berlin visit in 1972 with my wife Isobel. She was an Australian citizen. I was still a German national. To visit East Berlin, she had to cross the border wall at Checkpoint Charlie. I had to cross at Heinemann Strasse, which took a few hours. Finally reunited, she said, she had become increasingly anxious waiting for me, all alone, in enemy territory.

Today Checkpoint Charley is just a tourist attraction. Until re-unification it was the crossover point for foreign nationals from East to West Berlin.


During the cold war this crossing had been the centre of attention, whenever the conflict between America and Russia flared up.. On August 13, 1961 American and Russian tanks were aiming their guns at each other. The world held its breath. 



The German flag flies proudly above the Reichstag (Parliament) building. The flag to the right are the colours of the Polish flag. A demonstration of some kind was in progress. Protest rallies are an almost daily occurrence in Berlin.

I asked a bystander to take this photo in front of the famous Brandenburg Gate. He happened to be a visitor to Berlin from my home town Esslingen. A few minutes later I was on the train back south, carrying all my luggage on the borrowed Giant. 

Berlin - Prolife Rally - 22 Sept. 2012

It was a long afternoon, starting at 1300 hrs with a rally outside the offices of Angela Merkel, Germany's Chancellor. (She was not present, but down south in Ludwigsburg where she celebrated 50 years of German - French relationships. Note: Merke L = Note L.)

The yearly pro-life march was organised by the Bundesverband Lebensrechte (Federal Ass. for Right to Life). On their brochure I read the cry of the helpless:

(Psalm 70:2

- - - - - - -

I had taken part in such rallies and marches before. But never have I seen as many police on duty. Right from the start opponents of the cause, most likely young, left-wing green groups, were trying to disrupt the peaceful gathering. Until the police stepped in, it was difficult to hear the various speakers addressing the peaceful gathering. The constant blowing of whistles by anti-protesters was irritating, but we all kept calm.

<<< Translation: "God come near to save me. Lord, hasten to help me!" This prayer  was not very likely on this protester's lips, as he was resisting police.

Let me say to any pro abortion protesters: "You are pushing against God's plan for humanity - life!. God is love and the creator of life. HIS love has won on the first Easter, over 2000 years ago. HE is not called Almighty God for no reason. 

It's only by HIS grace and mercy that HE gives everyone a chance to accept HIS love, before it's too late.

There is a saying: Ende gut - alles gut. (If it ends well, all is good.)


Trust me, from one who lives on Goodall Road, God's plan for HIS people will end well. It will be all good.


Elsa, who is medical doctor, had not taken part in the event. It may have been a little long for her - first an hour long rally, then a 1 1/2 hour walk through the streets of Berlin, right past the Brandenburg Gate to St. Hedwigs Church. It was standing room only for another hour. My legs started to feel the strain, but all ended well and it was good.

Toward the end of the march, before the church service, I felt I wanted to talk with somebody. I prayed a silent prayer, desiring to talk to someone, a like-minded person, among the 3000 strong crowd. 

It wasn't long before a middle-aged, stocky man, started walking beside me. He initiated conversation. It so happened, his name was Klaus-Dieter. Like me, he also was an ex-driving instructor, active in a Baptist church. He had travelled for the event from Gifhorn, a place about an hour away in Lower Saxony. If you have ever met somebody for the first time and took an instant liking to that person, feeling like you knew him or her for years, then you know how I felt after meeting Klaus-Dieter. It was a rather hurried, quite sad, good-bye afterwards. 

My legs felt happy to be on that Giant, pedalling back to Steglitz. It was my final evening in Berlin, so I took my hostess our for a meal. It was a freezing night, but we still were riding our bikes to and from the S-Bahn station. Had it not been for the cold, I would have loved to take a long walk down memory lane - the Kurfuersten Damm, the Kaiser-Wilhelm Gedaechtnis Kirche and the landmark Cafe Kranzler, 

During a school trip in 1969, just before migrating to Australia, a group from Esslingen visited Berlin. We had a coffee at the Cafe Kranzler:

From the archives - Berlin April 1969 - Cafe Kranzler, 

Three months before migrating to Australia a group from my hometown Esslingen took a bus trip to Berlin. At the time, the writer (far right) had no idea that 44 years later the name of the young man on the left would come to life.


Not only that, but it was during a trip to Berlin.


The name of the friend from school on the left is KEUERLEBER.

It came to me moments ago, after scanning this photo,

a person, who crossed my path in Berlin in 2012, was KEUL.



Hey, now there's more, what a discovery, totally unplanned: The word Erbe in German means - inheritance!

- - - - - - -


So where does the promised big Z come into the picture, you may ask? To be exact, what I discovered was a mirror image of the letter Z. It came to me long after I had returned to Australia. 

Somebody asked, would I not have been better to travel to Berlin from Dresden? It would have only been a couple of hours away on the train. Looking at the map of Germany, I understood that. But the timing was not right. Had I travelled to Berlin from Dresden I would not have been there for the pro-life rally.

Out of curiosity, I looked at the map to check the route I had travelled by train from Stuttgart to Dresden, west across Germany to Wuppertal and then north-east to Berlin: This is how it looked like:


Germany - my zig-zag train journey from Stuttgart to Berlin. (Note the similarity between N and Z).

The earlier cross over America was totally intentional. This mirrored Z over Germany was a bonus.

But there came another surprise. After scanning this photo I noticed how the light reflected on the map above. I wondered, what was the location. It so happened that it was near Wuerzburg, the place of the brotherhood I had meant to work with, for two months.

Please let nobody think I hold any animosity toward the brotherhood, because they did not find a place for me. Rather, I think God is telling me: "I love it when you rise early and seek me. I appreciate your hours in prayer and see the hours of hard work you do in my name. But wherever you are, whatever you do - I love you."

- - - - - - -


(Back to what is happening in Australia)

Eating my lunch on the day of writing this chapter, on the radio a lady reporter, named Kelly, was interviewed on our SBS radio. She explained, as I understood it, that the law had passed through parliament, where fresh evidence will be taken into consideration, even after a person's second guilty verdict. 

The lady reiterated, that until now, if fresh evidence was coming forward, or a new witness had information, nothing could be done legally. Only at the discretion of the Attorney General, or that of the State Governor, could a case be reopened. 

Think about it: Would it not be so much easier for an Attorney-General to keep a man in jail, rather than risk great embarrassment to the legal professionals, if in the end it is found that they convicted the wrong person twice? The Attorney-General is ultimately responsible for the proper function of the legal system.

Could this be the reason why my friend Peter is still in jail?

I hope and pray that all those, convicted twice without having done the crime, will finally find justice! The new law will certainly give new hope to prisoners, who know they are innocent and have evidence, which until now has not been looked at - legally!

In a letter to the lawyer for Peter Liddy I have urged him, after this new law came in, to visit his client in prison and reopen the case as soon as possible.

- - - - - - -


On Good Friday, 29th March 2013, my wife and I agreed on a little outing. First we would attend the church service at the Adelaide Congress Hall, then take a little ride to the south, along the beach perhaps? With no firm plan, after a most blessed Easter celebration service, we drove down the Anzac Highway in the direction of the beach. I turned left into Marion Road, then right again to cut through the suburbs. I was not very familiar with the district, but knew I would come out somewhere on Brighton Road.

Turning into a narrow, residential street I suddenly had a sensation. I had been there before. Not only that, I recognized the street name and remembered a Sunkist bottle of soft drink, which had been placed on the roof of a motor car. (Pic. Bk. 2, Ch. 20). Then it struck me. On the day the Christian world celebrated the death of our Lord and Saviour, I was led to Dyson Street, the same as years ago.

It reminded me of another Easter, where God led me to a street called Cross Street. But I don't intend to go over old ground. Too much is happening day by day. Too much to write about it all. I did not mention a word to my wife beside me. It would spoil our otherwise happy outing. 

- - - - - - -

On 23.March 13, during the 6 PM News, a house fire was reported at Elizabeth Vale. Since I was about to go for a short ride anyway, and the location was only 1/2 hour away, I decided to check it out. Actually, it was the name Lincoln [Street] which first made me take notice. Checking the street map, there was no Lincoln Street in the suburb mentioned. Another minute in Google Maps and Lindon Street was likely the place, where the blaze had occurred.

As I checked the street map, a nearby street name stood out: Stokes Ct. Immediately my brain connected the name Stokes to a light plane crash, which had taken place four days before. Now I had two places to check out. It worked out perfectly; the plane crash site was on the way to the location of the fire! Why not combine business with pleasure? I ensured I carried my. May be there were things to see? There were!

According to the report in our local Messenger Newspaper a light plane had crashed during an air show. The headline was: Downed Spitfire. The mishap was big news. When I first heard it, I sensed something was not right. The newspaper article, while reporting the basics, left many questions to be answered.

Just now, having scanned some photos, and researched a little more, like the address of the dead pilot, all appears to be linking together. But where does it all make sense?


The newspaper reported the crash site as 'an unoccupied industrial carpark' on Frost Rd.

This is the gate, leading to the carpark. The only clue that an airplane had crashed was a broken fence, visible just behind the gum tree on the right.

It was less than two weeks since the crash. I had expected more obvious signs of a major disaster.

Nelson Locksmiths, large padlock on the gate to the car park.

Both, this business name and the writing in thick black lettering - D Key - had me wondering.

Over the fence is a place called One Stop Mowers. (Mowers? Turn the M around - He's WOW!   

Not my choice of front garden decoration, but I don't have to like it. Who knows, there may be a miraculous survival story to go with it? Years ago, when I was still cruising the streets of Adelaide, giving driving lessons, I had seen this 'plane crash' . That evening, March 23, 2013, I had no idea that I'd be passing anywhere near it. 

Considering, I had just come from the scene of the Frost Rd. plane debacle, whose deceased victim was reported as Roger Stokes, are you half as surprised as I was?

Only a few streets away from No. 13 (above) I took a picture as the sun was setting in STOKES CT.

The address of the deceased Roger, reminded me of a person, who I had had much contact with in the past few days, the first in some years, including a phone call on the day of writing. This person's street name - Mc Kay,  takes us (almost) right back to the gate and the lock, where Mr. Stokes allegedly died.


D Key ... McKay...?.

The house where the blaze occurred, on the morning of Sat. 23.3.13, at around 8.30 AM. Damage was reported as 300,000 Dollars. 


Luckily the owners, along with their pet cats, dogs, even four snakes, escaped with their lives. Looking at this picture, house number is 12, I only see two clues of a fire, the red / white ribbon (accident scene) and the barred up window. Much damage was reported at the back.

- - - - - -

Messenger Press (free) Newspaper, 20.3.13, Page 5:

Down.ed - What difference two dots make:

De (German) down - spit fire.

I placed the K 20 onto this scan. A picture of the plane on shows this code very clearly.

As often in my examination of media reports, I have questions. Am I the only one, who wants to make sense of the world, what we see, what we read?

The Messenger Press report begins with: "Organisers of the Classic Jets Original Parafield Air Show ..."

Question: What does 'original' air show mean? Was there another, non original show....?

Mr. Stokes' air plane was a replica, built seven years earlier. It came as a kit. 

Question: Does it not diminish the quality of an air show, when replicas are on display? Would the Ford Model-T Club allow a replica vintage vehicle owner to join, let alone take part in a rally? 

Young soccer fan Bailey was the only eye witness quoted in the report. With due respect to 12 year-olds, I must ask:

Question: Did the reporters not find adults, who were willing to tell what they saw?

Young Bailey made amazing observations, one about the way the plane came down: "It did a barrel roll and as it did it, it came back up to turn again and the wing gave way and it went straight down."

In the News online, the same Bailey (12) is further quoted as observing: "People ran across the road to help. Two of them, one a player, leaped the fence of the RM Williams carpark to reach the crash scene. He said, one of them reached the wreckage and tried unsuccessfully to find Mr. Stokes' pulse." 

Question: Did Bailey jump the fence also? If not, how could he tell what went on?

One expert investigator, Richard Davies, on the other hand said this to the reporter: "At this stage I can't comment on any possible causes. We don't speculate on what may or may not have happened." Why did he not at least say they will investigate, why the wing had fallen off?

At the time of this crash, in March 2013, our Parliament and the media was very much filled with the subject of media power. The question asked was this: "Should the media be further regulated by government, or is the present system sufficient to ensure independent (may I add, truthful) reporting of news?"

In earlier books, numerous times, I have raised this point. From what I observed in Australia, overseas would not be different, news comes from one source and is picked up, often word for word by other media. The public believes it to be true. After all, how can the radio, television and the newspaper all be wrong?

The reports about the Frost Road air crash, are a classical example. The printed version in the Messenger Press is almost identical to the online one in (The very latest: Nothing at all about the crash investigation, not in the 27th March, nor in the 3rd April edition).

As part of the media enquiry by a Senate select committee, which was televised, I recall Senator Simon Birmingham of South Australia, questioning an Australian media magnate. Of course, the billionaire TV station owner would argue that government regulation was unnecessary. His name was Mr. Stokes.

Ha, ha. how funny is this? As I write I'm listening to SWR4, a south German radio station. The hit playing right now: "Du hast mich tausendmal belogen ... ich bin mit dir so hoch geflogen ..."

 (You have lied to me a thousand times, I flew up so high with you...)

Love it, plus the name of the singer Andrea Berg.

If I were to interview young Bailey, I would ask him one important question. But, how would I find him? Unlike the full names of the chief investigator, Richard Davies and the full names of the organisers of the air show (Robert and Margaret* Jarrett) all we know of Bailey is his age, and that he comes from Gawler.

*More irony just came: Going back 15 years, we knew a single mother and her son. They lived right near Parafield Airport. Margaret developed a serious aversion to the aircraft noise. It made her ill to the point, they had to move house. I recall helping her move into a new place, away from the airport. Their names were Margaret and Robert.

If I were to track down Bailey and interview him, I would ask him on question: "Who won that soccer match?"

Another media mogul, no doubt the biggest player in the world, Rupert Murdoch, was in Australia a few days ago (early April 2013). He was visiting NT (Darwin). He commented on Australia's immigration laws, the issue of 437* Visas on the ABC's online website. He obviously disagrees with our government, using strong language, the words racist and disgraceful.

(* 437 is not a mistake, the article showed sic. (quoting a mistake). Mr. Murdoch, according to the ABC online, called our 457 temporary work visa, the 437 Visa (only 20 the difference.) 

It so happened, on the news at the same time, a light plane had gone missing and was later found crashed. When I saw the report on ABC TV, I noticed behind the person being interviewed, a number and a name. It intrigued me. In a flash I fetched my camera and photographed the TV screen. Readers will recognize the number:

3150     PENNY

When will the penny drop?

How I wished the penny would drop in the minds of all those, who I had written about, regarding my imprisoned friend. Only days before this chapter, once again, I received another knock-back from an investigation team at a television station, after sending them a large envelope with much documentation. They told me politely, they can't follow up every submission. I understand. 

Afterwards I thought, why did I ever think they seriously would act, since the organisation was one of the first I expressed my doubts to? That was ten (zehn, dix, dieci, diez, tien, dez, tie) years ago!

To simply decline my submission, without any comment at all, does not further the matter in any way. How I wished somebody would engage with a logical mind and an unbiased approach. Together we can uncover the truth! 

The truth is our hope. Truth sets us free.  

(Please note: The European journey continues in Chapter 23 - early May 2013)

Chapter 22