Einstein's Compass

Oktoberfest 1894 Albert – Age 16

 It was the last days of September 1894, and the crisp west wind hailed the 16-day annual folk festival known as Oktoberfest. The first Oktoberfest began on October 12, 1810 when all the citizens of Munich were invited to attend the wedding party of King Ludwig I, as he married PrincessTherese Charlotte Luise of Saxony-Hildburghausen . It was such a success that the idea stuck and was still a favorite event 84 years later.

Wearing lederhosen and his favorite hat, emerald green and made of alpine wool, sixteen-year-old Albert strolled into the fairgrounds. He’d been saving his appetite for the afternoon feast, and his stomach was growling in protest. Colorful tent-like canopies dotted the grounds and Albert inhaled the enticing scents of baked dumplings, chickens roasting on spits, and sausages. Albert’s eyes widened at the abundance of Bavarian delicacies and his stomach rumbled again in anticipation.

Twilight was slowly descending across the sea of striped blue and white tents which were lit with the still novel electric light bulbs. A week before, as an assistant in the family-owned electrical company Elektrotechnische Fabrik J. Einstein & Cie., Albert had mounted the light bulbs in the Schottenhamel marquee. 

The excited teenager made his way past the Hippodrome where usually horse races were held but now was transformed into a dance hall. The air was filled with the excited chatter of the revelers underscored by the joyous sounds of a sprightly polka band. Outside the large, ornate building men in their festive best chatted animatedly with the families in the line with them. Their wives in their dirndl’s, braids tied with ribbons on top of their heads, held the hands of their children as all eagerly awaited their turn to go inside to dance.

Albert whistled under his breath as he made his way to the far west end of the fairground. A new exhibit hosted by Munich Brau held a competition for the best crossbowman. Near the Munich Brau beer wagon, Albert found Johann setting up the targets for the crossbow competition.  “Hey, Johann, do you need any help?” Albert shouted above the loud music.

Johann in a sweaty white peasant shirt and lederhosen turned around. “Albert! You made it!” he said, giving his friend a brotherly hug.

“Wouldn’t miss Oktoberfest,” Albert replied mock indignantly.

“Well, thank you for coming to our tent. My father has invested a lot of money in the crossbow competition and I’m just finishing setting up the targets. You go on inside. I’ll catch up with you in a while.”

Albert nodded and headed into the Munich Brau pavilion. A wooden dance floor covered the center of the Pagoda style tent that measured fifty feet square with rows of tables and benches lining the sides. On planks at the far south side of the party room plate after plate of fresh bratwurst and mugs of frosty beer beckoned.

 “I’m starved,” Albert, said to himself as he turned and strode purposefully toward the food table. In his enthusiastic rush, Albert did not see the foot that thrust its way into his path and sent him sprawling into the straw on the floor. Amid derisive laughter, Albert hoisted himself up. Brushing the straw from his clothing he found himself face to face with Werner Von Wiesel.

 “Walk much, clumsy? And look at that stupid hat,” the bully sneered, backhanding Albert’s goat-hair cap from his head.

Dressed in a white apron, the stout Frederick Thomas angrily marched up to the boys nearly forgetting he was holding a platter brimming with sausage. “That’s enough Werner,” he said sternly as he picked up Albert’s hat. “This is not sportsmanlike conduct. I will pull you from the Crossbow competition if you continue to behave like this.”

Albert glared at the bully as he brushed sawdust from the wooly cap. Werner, all innocence, looked hurt. "Me? I didn't do anything." He glanced at a nearby table for support from his father a retired Prussian Colonial who served in the German Army under Bismarck. But between bites of bratwurst and sips of cold beer, the senior Von Wiesel was chatting with friends and missed his son's performance. Werner shrugged and ambled away toward the food table as if Albert was beneath his notice.

Shaking his head at Werner’s audacity, Frederick turned to Albert. "I'm sorry for that, Albert." Then, remembering he was holding a dish of treats, he smiled and handed Albert the plate piled high with sausages. “You did an excellent job installing the electric lights. Now enjoy what we do best.” Albert’s mouth watered as he inhaled the savory scent of the steaming sausages and he accepted the plate gratefully.

Careful to avoid spilling the contents of the platter, Albert ambled to a table near the six-piece band, snagging a frosty mug of beer from a beer table along the way. The musicians were tuning their instruments as a group of dancers waited for the music to start. At a nearby table a pretty young blond girl smiled at Albert. Albert blushed a little and nodded, smiling back.

The encounter with Werner had not diminished Albert’s appetite and he turned his attention to the steaming   sausages in front of him. Before long, the plate was clean and the mug empty. Sated, Albert relaxed back into his chair and closed his eyes wondering, Should I stay or go? There are many tents in which to enjoy the festivities. If I open my eyes, will Werner be gone?” Then he grimaced. “If I leave, will he follow me?”

The accordion wheezed into life and the drum began beating the tempo for a lively Polka. Albert felt the music, opened his eyes, and joined in singing with the enthusiastic crowd. He clapped his hands and watched the band.

Johann’s mother Christine, her ginger hair tucked under a white cap, tapped Albert’s shoulder and pointed to the young Fraulein who had smiled at Albert earlier. “Albert, please dance with Anna. She is Johann’s cousin visiting from Berlin.”

Shy, Albert gazed at the golden-haired beauty at the next table.  She smiled demurely and then looked down. Albert plucked up a bit of courage from somewhere and hesitantly asked, “Um, hi. Would you like to, uh, dance?”

Anna nodded and the two stood so Albert could lead the dainty Fraulein to the dance floor. “What a beautiful girl,” he thought as he glanced sideways to take a surreptitious look. Taking their positions on the dance floor, and despite the energetic dance, Albert held Anna like a porcelain doll. Despite his shyness, he was a fairly accomplished dancer and was able to navigate through many pairs of dancers. Anna’s shoulder-length flaxen hair flew with every turn as the sprightly tempo of the polka carried them. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with delight when Albert twirled her. The crinoline under her ankle length, red polka dot skirt floated as she spun.

Close to winded after a few dances, Albert returned his partner to her seat. As he turned to go back to his table Anna put her hand on his arm. “Please join me,” she said, looking up into his eyes.

Albert gulped and nodded, settling into a chair next to Anna. He motioned to a passing hostess carrying a tray with mugs of beer. “Anna would you like something to drink?”

Anna smiled and nodded. “After that workout I can use one.”

As the hostess set two mugs on the table, she knocked a cardboard coaster to the ground. When Albert bent to pick it up, from out of nowhere an arrow streaked past her, flying through the feather at the top of Albert’s hat, knocking it off his head. Startled, Albert flinched, jarring the table and knocking the mug over. The frothy brew spilled over the edge of the table right into his overturned hat.

Unaware of the assault that had just taken place, the polka band continued playing at its joyously frantic pace. In the midst of the pandemonium and gaiety, Anna and the server were the only ones who noticed what had happened. Albert leaned over and picked up his hat and the arrow that had embedded itself in the straw covered dirt floor nearby.

With a horrified expression Anna exclaimed, “Who would do something like this?”

Albert considered whether to tell her his suspicions. He put on a brave smile and shook his head, ruefully emptying the beer out of his hat and shaking the last wisps of foam out of it. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a prank.” Laying his hat on the table, he looked at Anna and smiled. “Or maybe Cupid has shot his arrow.”

Anna blushed prettily and looked down at the table.

Albert’s expression turned more somber. “But, seriously, please don’t say anything to your family about this.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Anna agreed.

Nodding in appreciation, Albert scanned the crowd for Werner. But the boy was nowhere to be seen. With Anna watching quietly, Albert studied the arrow. It was small, as if from a child’s bow. Turning it in his fingers, he noticed a “WvW” burnished on the wood. Albert grimaced and shook his head, wondering how anyone could be so stupid as to shoot an arrow at someone with their initials carved into it. But then, Werner had never been the brightest bulb on the string, so to speak, Albert thought to himself.

Scanning the room again, Albert found Frederick Thomas on the far side of the tent, pouring a seemingly endless supply of his frothy beer into the mugs of the revelers. Albert’s eyes narrowed as he considered, Should he take him the arrow? If he did, Werner would be expelled from the crossbow competition and possibly arrested for malicious assault. 

Beer soaked hat in his left hand, with a slight bow Albert held out his right hand and said, “I’m sorry, Anna, but I think I need to tend to something.”

Unable to hide her disappointment, Anna clasped his hand. “I’m sorry you have to leave so soon.”

“Me, too.” Albert said, his natural shyness coming to the fore. “I…um… really enjoyed dancing with you.”

Anna brightened a little. “Me too. Maybe I’ll see you again while I’m here?” she said tilting her head quizzically.

“I…I’d really like that,” Albert said, then turned, slipped the arrow under his jacket, and made his way through the crowd and out of the tent.