Autobiography   Dieter Rolf Fischer   Book 6      ALL IN HIS HAND     I     Archive:   Book 1   I   Book 2   I    Book 3   I   Book 4   I   Book 5   I   Index                 Copyright 2002 - 2007       I    Text and Photography by Dieter Rolf Fischer, unless indicated             Above photos: Telstra


11.  Bad en - Good en

Having ended the previous chapter, saying, it's not about numbers, I feel almost hypocritical starting this chapter with a weird numbers incident. The date was May 3rd (3/5). My brother Gerhard had gone to work. I walked to the local bakery to buy a Schwabian specialty - pretzels and two pastries.

My pastries came to E 2.40, the pretzels E 0.90 cents, totalling E 3.30. It so happened I had just the right amount in 13 coins in my pocket: 3 x 1 Euro, 5 x 5 cent plus 5 x 1 cent. 3 and 5 won (one) again.

After breakfast I phoned British Airways. There was a specific reason, why I wanted to change my flight from Singapore to Australia, to land in Melbourne, not in Adelaide, as booked. The lady was very helpful. She promised to call back within ten minutes. She did, announcing good news; no problem in changing my flight. The extra cost, re-booking fee or whatever, came to 35 Euro. Yea - that figured.

The first day of the 2-day conference happened to be on the same day, I had been booked to return to Australia, May 18th. God's timing was perfect.


Why I visited Grace Church. The map below is part of the announcement of a Conference with a special speaker from the USA. (Daily Bread April-May 07). 


In Book 3, Found, Chapter 45, I attended a Dangerous Stories Conference. I had stayed in the above caravan park that night. In the chapter I had mistakenly called it Wantira (not Wantirna). I never forget this incredible weekend.

It took me some weeks of thinking and praying, during my USA/Europe trip, does God want me to attend the above? The thought became stronger and stronger. God wanted me there, no question.

Note the location of Grace Church of Christ, next to King Village & Club Magic? What timing - the theme of Grace concluded the previous chapter !

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While at my brother's house I was able to telephone home. On that day, I found out my wife Isobel had had a fall a few days earlier. She had walked home in near darkness from the bus stop, tripped and fell, right outside our neighbour's house. Lucky, it was close to home. She was able to get up, and get my 24-year-old to take her to hospital. Her injuries had been serious enough to keep her in hospital overnight.


There was a rather humourous sequel to this. A few Fridays after my return home, we attended the Bill Gaither monthly video/singing evening. I normally don't make fun of sacred songs, but must make an exception. A laugh is good for us.

One of the first songs on the screen that evening was 'It is no secret, what God can do'. Singing the following line, I could not help, giving my wife a shove with the elbow: "... someone slipped and fell, was that someone you?"

Please everybody, don't laugh, but help your brothers or sisters get up again, if they fall. Remember, the chorus of this song goes:"... what he's done for others, he will do for you!"

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Another humourous look at the words of a sacred hymn came via email, only days after I had uploaded the previous chapter, where THU was meant to read TUE:

A good man came to the gates to enter heaven. To gain entry St. Peter said, he must answer three questions correctly, to get in. Question 1: "Name two days in the week that start with T?" - The man thought for a moment, then answered: "I know - Today and Tomorrow."

This wasn't really the answer St. Peter was looking for, but after consulting with other apostles, they let it pass. Question 2: "How many seconds are there in a year?" - Our friend again thought for a moment, as if calculating furiously. He finally said: "I got it - 12."

St. Peter questioned his answer: "Only 12 seconds in a year; what do you mean?" Replied the thinking man: "The second of January, the second of February, the second of March...".

Once again, St. Peter consulted his apostles. They could really not argue with that one either. They let it pass. Question 3: "What is God's first name?" This time they thought they had him stumped. Our good friend had to think a little longer on that one, but an answer came: Andy.

"Andy? Why Andy, St. Peter asked?"

"Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me, Andy tells me I am his own."

(My comment: Feel led up a garden path? The name of the hymn referred to: In the Garden).


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Hymn No. 185  - Word Music Hymn Book, Waco Texas

 When I survey the wondrous cross


On the day of writing, at church we sang one of my favourite hymns: When I survey the wondrous cross.

 I noticed interesting data: Hamburg LM (= 501000). It was in Hamburg, where I had bought a pair of No. 51 socks (Chapter 7).

Note Verse 4: The title of my book 5: ... the whole realm of nature. The key is G. Sung Broader in Unison.

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The sanctimonious word, peace, took on an interesting meaning on May 3rd. The church, where my brother Gerhard and I were confirmed on 8.3.64, is called Friedens Kirche (Church of Peace). It is located in Friedens Strasse No. 8.  Before doing some shopping that Thursday, I headed in the direction of Peace Street. Perhaps the Minister, who I had had brief email contact with, would be in his office?

On the way, passing a driving school, I noticed a motorbike was parked inside. It was a BMW - Rego No. ES-MS 3  (= IT 153).

Next door to Friedens Strasse 8, next to the Friedens Kirche, the Pastor answered my call, after I pressed at least three doorbells. He remembered me. At the time of our email exchange I had been flabbergasted, how after all this time, the Pastor knew exactly what my personal Konfirmations Spruch (Memory Verse) had been. 

My brother and I had been in the first group of teenagers to be confirmed in the new church. During our brief conversation the Pastor told me that a few weeks later, on May 17th, on Himmelfahrt (Ascension Day), the service in his church would be broadcast on the Deutschland Funk, the German National Radio. He was going to preach to an audience estimated to be one million.

After our ten minute chat in the church auditorium, before leaving, I could not help noticing 4 chairs, on their own, placed right at the back, where we had been talking. In a far corner of my brain, I recalled seeing 4 chairs at the back of a church auditorium, in the USA in 05. Strange, how the number 4 fitted perfectly, once again, in to the bigger picture - on 5/3.

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My friend Erich's wife, Renate, is sister to the other two I had visited in Hamburg and Berlin. As expected I again was spoiled, as I had done on previous occasions. The most recent had been in 2002, when  I stayed with my friends in Goeppingen, visiting together with two of my sons. Erich is a man who thinks and loves detail. As before, he took me to some interesting places:


Friday 4/5/07 - My friend Erich and I enjoyed a day, exploring around the Schwaebische Alb. The highlight was above, well preserved town called *Bad Urach.

The fanfares were out - a wedding had just taken place at the Rathaus. The couple's name was Stephen and Michaela.

*When a German town is called Bad ... it means it has mineral springs; nothing to do with bad. Otherwise, why would one call a place Baden Baden?

Actually, if there were a place called Bad en, the opposite should be called Gut en (Good en). How amazing,  as I edited this chapter, I recalled that Eric and I had visited a village called Gutenberg, a few minutes drive away from Bad Urach. I had seen a vehicle, Rego ....177 exit the Gasthaus (Pub).

Johannes Gutenberg was the inventor of the printing press in 1440. It took him 8 years to complete. His first work, what a good man, was to produce a Bible. They called it the Gutenberg Bible. John Gutenberg was from Mainz, which I was to visit briefly a few weeks later. 

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Earlier that Friday 4/5 we drove to a mountain range, called Schwaebische Alb, not to be mixed up with the much higher Alpen, further South. (We shall do some mountain climbing the German Alpen Range in the next chapter, God willing in ten day's time or so).

The Burg Teck, a fortress on top a hill, surrounded by forests, was our first destination. We reached it via the town of Owen. Erich had entered the wrong track, and had to turn the car around. As he did, a group of trees took my attention. They looked like mature silver birch trees; they were. I started counting, how many of these old trees there were.

Was there really twelve of them? I was not one hundred per cent sure. But I could not very well say to Erich: "Stop I lost count of ...". Another reason to visit again one day. (Must add this task to the list of 50 things to do before ...)

After Erich parked his vehicle, we found a table and ate our sandwiches. A short distance away, in the middle of a meadow, was a crumbled up mount of what looked like clear plastic. As if somebody had unpacked a large piece of furniture, or a mattress, and just left the plastic behind. How did it get there? My suggestion, we could retrieve it and dispose of it, was not agreeable with Erich.

From the Burg Teck, after a refreshing walk up through the steep forest path, we enjoyed 360 degree views. Erich had brought his binoculars. We could make out the Technical College above Esslingen, near the Hohenkreuz, as well as the Stuttgart Television Tower. With bare eyes these were invisible. Through be binoculars, in the meadow below us, what looked like bushes on a meadow, was a shepherd grazing his flock and his two dogs.

The Burg Teck, as are many historic buildings in Europe, has been restored and is still being used as a hostel.

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Strange discoveries in Goeppingen

 Top: Dangling from the rear-view mirror of a motor car, numbers 3 1 1 5 on two dices. In Book 2, Chapter 47 * a dice showed 1 & 5, during a walk with my dog.

Bottom: During a walk I spotted this box - gregal.  Whatever it had contained, I saw the word real plus gg.

A little googling took me to a company in Valencia, Spain. My guess: The box had contained oranges.

*The first sentence in Book 2, Chapter 47 reads:

"The date was September 25th 2004, the day Adelaide’s football team Port Power, was in the fight to become National Champion for the first time."

How well timed: Minutes before writing this (on 22/7/07) our football team Port Power defeated Richmond by 155:100 points. Port Power scored 24 goals, 11 behind. Richmond scored 15 goals, 10 behind. (A goal scores 6 points, a behind, when a player just misses the goal, still scores 1 point).

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On the morning of the big football match in Stuttgart, May 5th 07, I had planned for a short bike ride. It was slightly wet, so I opted for a walk instead. In all honesty, when I start out for a walk, I am not planning to find anything or do anything out of the ordinary. It just comes as I walk. Sometimes I even think, I hope nothing much happens or what if I miss something, I am meant to see?

Walking the short distance into the centre of Goeppingen, my eyes and brain cells started working minutes after leaving Erich's front door. In a lane on a fence somebody had scribbled the words: AZAD IS THE BEST. I found that unusual. Graffiti normally involves angry symbols nobody can decipher, or  negative words. (Azad, whoever you are, you're a lucky person with a fan club of at least one! Nearby I took above gregal photo).

In a bargain shop I bought a pair of scissors for my brother. (I had needed one, he couldn't find one or simply didn't have one). This purchase that Saturday morning was rather convenient. I would be needing scissors, before getting back to Erich's place.

Two taxi registration plates, one parked behind the other, outside the Goeppingen Railway station, almost haunted me: 177 and 315. But what was I to do. Go up to the taxi driver and say:

"Hey great registration plate you've got - 315. The digits of my birthday. And look at the guy behind you, 177! If I take the 3 and the 1 from 315, take the 1 from 177, added them up, I get today's date and still have 77 left over. Do you follow?"

He may have replied:

"Where do you want to go, mate? The fare to the mental asylum is 55 Euro. That's also today's date and backwards it's my brother's birthday!"


On the side of the shopping mall, in front of a display table, was a large banner: Wir freuen uns ueber mehr Verkehr. (We are happy about increased traffic). The driving instructor inside me automatically walked over to look over the display. But it was not about my kind of traffic, at least not the driving instructor's kind. My expertise was not needed. 

The Midwife's Association were holding an information morning. Brochures, business cards and promotional labels were available from the display table. I never stayed long enough to find out, if there were any practical demonstrations taking place. I'm sure if it had been a promotion by the police, fire brigade or ambulance, there would have been lots of action.

Before walking away I took one of the stickers anyway. There is always a diary to be  decorated:


    Please, nobody get confused. The FORD label on my diary has nothing to do with the one showing 3 1/2 prams.


It was quite a large label I was carrying around. On the fringe of the inner city, on my way back to my host's place, a parked car stood out from the rest. It was a Suzuki Wagon R+, the same model I owned back home in Adelaide. The registration number did the trick - ...T 1009, the N-in won again. How could I let the owner know, I liked his or her vehicle?

The big midwife's sticker I was carrying read: "Do it again, sometime", to encourage women to have more babies. This is where the scissors I had just bought came in handy. I used them to cut out this message, plus a number of pram-pictures, like the ones shown above, and left it under the parked Suzuki's windscreen wiper. I hoped it belonged to a female; what a waste otherwise.

That afternoon Erich and I went to the football match in Stuttgart's Gottlieb Daimler Stadium. I had looked forward to see the team of my childhood play. As previously mentioned, the stadium was a sell-out. The atmosphere was electric. Stuttgart was fighting to become Deutscher Meister (German Champions), while the team from 1. FSV Mainz 05 was in a struggle to not to be renegaded into the second division.

Both happened a few weeks later. Stuttgart came on top, Mainz was renegaded to second Division. That afternoon Stuttgart won 2:0, with goals by Meira and Hilbert. I never forget the shiver down my spine, when ten-thousand voices sang the Mainz theme song 'You'll never walk alone".

- - - - - - -


Advertisement for football boots - (I added the logos of Mainz and Stuttgart).

v 1.06: The speed boot gets you there faster. 

Not pictured, but part of the advertisement, is a footballer, proudly displaying shirt No. 13. Love the numbers.

- - - - - - -


Erich and I were actually watching the game from a strictly separated section, among the Mainz fans. He had had trouble securing our tickets in Stuttgart, but was successful via Mainz 05. It felt a little strange, sitting among Mainz' flag-waving, cheering red shirts, while I really wanted the white shirts of VFB Stuttgart to win.

When after one exciting moment, I think it was the second Stuttgart goal, I forgot myself and let out a cheer, Erich quickly pulled me back. It would be an interesting experiment to find out, what would have happened, had I let myself go. I decided to do it James Bond's way - die another day.


(Returning home to deal with domestic issues).

Moments before writing this, during a meal break, I was viewing the Channel Nine TV show 60 Minutes. One segment was very timely, considering I had written about the Midwife's Association's promotion - Germans to have more babies -  an hour before.

No, it wasn't the item about the Australian naturalist, living for six years on an Ethiopian mountain top, studying mankeys, sorry monkeys, to ensure their survival. The segment on 60 minutes I refer to was about sperm donations, and how in the USA is was becoming a big business. Ten years ago, according to the program, sperm donations were almost exclusively to infertile, normal couples (normal meaning M & F, as in Manfred and Frieda).

The first couple on Sixty Minutes this evening was a same sex couple, who had had a child via donated sperm. Another recipient was a single mother, who wanted a child, without a man.

How sad, how sick! I said to my wife: "How did politicians ever pass laws, which allow such practices?" Did the church speak out at the time? Did the media report what was going on or was it all kept quiet? Or was the Christian's catchcry at the time: Politics is a dirty business, let's keep away from it! Now we are reaping the results of this hands-off approach.

Technology is advancing at such a fast pace, we must guard against overstepping the mark. Friends, am I the only one thinking the above is sidestepping God's basic fabric for a healthy society?

God help us, if researchers, trying to find cures for serious illnesses, will lead us to immoral, unnatural family units? Not to mention the grave prospect of creating human beings, simply to kill them for stem cells or spare parts. As I see it, a scientist without morally sound, God-ordained guidelines, is like a driver of a motor car, without road rules or speed limits.

The lesbian mother in the Sixty Minutes program, would not agree that a traditional family is a female mother and a male father, who bear children of one sex or the other. Those living the same-sex lifestyle ought to accept that children are best brought up in such a traditional family. But in this world, where everybody insists on their rights, we ignore God and do it our way. In the end, when there are problems, we blame God. It's all HIS fault.

What was wrong in the good old days, when society chose the D-option - adoption? Children will live and desperate childless couples are plenty. In Australia their dream of finding a baby for adoption is about as good as winning first price in the lottery.

The beautiful option, in Australia and many other places, has largely been replaced by the convenient option - abortion. God will not forever ignore the spilled blood of those innocent children!

On July 19th 07 my eldest son Ben was visiting us. He had brought with him that day's edition of The Australian, our national newspaper. Casually glancing inside I found a brief article, which triggered my brain into thinking. A Victorian MP was named as the person behind a new push to have abortions made legal in the state of Victoria.

I had thought that existing laws already virtually allowed abortion on demand since the 1970's. Laws were such, so I understood, if the mental health of the mother was affected, a termination of pregnancy was granted, no further questions asked.  

I googled the name mentioned in the newspaper and sent the female MP an email. (Ironically, this was on July 20th, the 4th anniversary of my mother's death).

When I googled the Victorian MP's details, I read her first name (Candy) and the street address (150 Mollison Street) and phone number (ended in 7511). They sounded so familiar, I wondered, if this was not one of those tests, I was meant to pass? A day later, the name of the town also came to me as rather Da Ninci - Kyneton.

Here is the email I sent, hoping that my simple viewpoint would make sense to this Member of Victoria's Upper House of Parliament.


Dear Ms. Broad,

In yesterday's (19/7) Australian Newspaper your name was mentioned as being the push behind making abortion legal in Victoria.

I have thought a lot about this and campaigned much in favour of common sense and following God's ways - that is life. Fullstop.

The main argument feminists have, it's my body, my choice, is flawed. They should have thought of that before engaging in sexual activity. There are at least three others, who have an interest in that foetus -  the father, the grandparents and the helpless child, who really wants to be born.

To say, a child is not a child until detached from the mother, is like saying potatoes in the ground are not potatoes until they are dug up. Bulldust.

The final argument, the mental health of the mother, has no legs to stand on either. To simply go to a doctor and argue, my boyfriend will kill me if he finds out, is that grounds for killing the foetus? Little wonder, 100 000 babies don't see the light of day in Australia each year, it's our national shame.  

The truth is, mothers who kill their children in their body are far more likely to suffer mental stress in later life, than those who carry their baby. Visit a mental institution or old people's home and you may find would-be mothers, tormented by what they had done.

And why not choose the beautiful option - give the baby to a mother, who longs for a child, but can't have any. Woe to a nation, who thinks they know better than Almighty God!

When politicians have faded out of the picture, they usually are remembered for one thing or another. Will you want to be remembered for the MP, who pushed for abortion to be made easy, when we are already struggling with a low birth rate?

Kind regards

Dieter Fischer


Another topic on Sixty Minutes on the evening of writing, was about the Tour de France. Whilst the subject of drugs came up, it was not the main topic. The segment informed us about the huge operation La Tour really is. Australia is not having a good race in 2007. Three top riders retired after crashing or being injured. One hopeful, Cadel Evans, is riding in second position overall (on July 22). Go Cadelllll!

Also on 19/7 a well known ex-golfer made a strange comment on the radio News. He claimed that even the sport of golf was not free of drug cheats. He knew of at least ten professional golfers, who had taken illegal substances, including steroids.

My sceptics antenna went up, as it does very often these days. My understanding was, only sports where constant physical endurance is required, benefit from steroids; cycling, swimming or running, but golf ....?

A later radio current affairs program asked a golf official about the drugs-in-golf issue. He never addressed the central issue, which made me take even more notice.

When I heard his surname, Johnston, I recalled that the previous day I had been to a meeting, where a VIP by that surname was going to be the special speaker. However, the VIP never turned up. This fact, plus the address of Mr. Johnston, 50 Princes Highway, made me take action. In an email to the gentleman, I looked at the humourous side of this matter.


Email date: 19/7/07

Dear Mr. Johnston,

Why should golf be any different when it comes to drug taking? I heard you answer the question on ABC Radio a moment ago.

Well, a friend told me, hard to believe, that the current World Champion Snooker all-time best player is on steroids. It's supposed to help him hold the clue, sorry cue, tighter and hit the ball harder.

But there's more. Another rumour, also my my friend, Gray Payler, has it that one player during the last Snooker Championship replaced an opponents ball, secretly, with one that had a bias in it. 

Gray is writing on book at the moment: 101 tricks to become No. 1. Should make great reading, when it's published, in 2028 (Gray is a one-finger typist, you know...).

Anyway, it surprised me to hear that hitting the ball a long distance would make that much difference in golf.

Can you believe this, Mike Turtur, the ex-SA cycle Champion, said in an interview on radio yesterday that Stuart O'Grady had fallen in the Tour de France, because he hit a pot hole? The world elite in cylists is passing through your village, and you can't be bothered filling a pot hole?

Kind regards

Dieter Fischer

PS  That will be a chapter in Gray Payler's book - The great Pot Hole conspiracy.

(The mistake in the third paragraph -  my my - was just that, a typing error).


Above statement by champion Mike Turter on radio had me puzzled. How could a cyclist in the multi-million (if not billion) Tour de France business, crash because of a pot hole? Wouldn't you think that organisers ensure the route is thoroughly inspected and, if necessary, repaired?

The latest News on Cadel Evans - he is 4 minutes behind the leader. The home run to Paris is going to be crucial. I hope the organisers have put up clear signs, which way to Paris. Wouldn't want any rider ending up in Strasbourg by mistake?

Chapter 12