THE IRON CURTAIN # 49

The lasts few weeks in September 1967 remain in my mind, even after all these years. With meetings in Chicago, corporate visitors from Holland in town, the murder of the Robinson family, and Luke Asjes departure for Amsterdam, pretty well had my mind in a whirl.

One humorous incident among all the problems also comes to mind. It has to do with my visitors from Holland. After all their meetings with the Dutch Immigrant Society to learn the way we handled all their charter flights, I thought that it would be nice to offer them a nice lunch before they had to board their flight back to Amsterdam. There was a wonderful Dutch restaurant in Windsor, Canada. It was just across the border in Ontario and many people from Detroit had lunch there quite often. It served some wonderful Indonesian food, and it was only about a ten minute trip, through the tunnel into Canada. There were few formalities at the border; the Canadians had no check point as you passed in, however, U.S. Immigration Police stopped all cars and checked all drivers on their way back into the States.

I must have been in La la land because I completely forgot that I had taken Dutch Citizens across into Canada. We were about halfway through our lunch when it dawned on me that we had to go through American Immigration to get back into Detroit. I don't know what kind of trouble I was going to get my guests in, but they had to catch a flight that afternoon and we didn't have time to be delayed. Having gone through this process many times, I knew that the U.S. Immigration officer usually just stuck his head in the window and asked "if I was a U.S. citizens. I'd say yes, and he would wave me through. I explained to my Dutch friends about my problem and asked them to just say "yes" when asked if everyone was a U.S. citizen. We got to the border, we were asked the question and I said yes. Then, from the back seat, came a very loud and definitely Dutch "Yah". I held my breath, but luckily he waived us through. I don't think it's that easy today; Homeland Security would have us all in jail.

So now it was September 28^th and I was standing at the American Airlines gate at Idlewild Airport, awaiting the arrival of my 36 passengers booked on the Impresario Performing Arts Tour. We were all booked on KLM's evening flight to Amsterdam, where we spent two nights exploring the sights, sailing on the famous canals, and visiting the Rijks Museum. A concert by the Amsterdam Philharmonic and a visit to Volendam were other highlights of our stay. From Amsterdam we flew to Warsaw, for more tours and a concert. Then it was on to Moscow. I had been in Moscow in 1961, with a group of KLM managers on a familiarization tour of Eastern Europe. I really hadn't had any great knowledge of Eastern Europe, just a taste of it. From that experience, I knew that in those times, people in Eastern Europe didn't have a lot of wealth. I had explained that to the participants during our meetings back in Detroit. I told them to leave any fancy clothes and fur coats at home. Unfortunately, my advice didn't sink in. They all came dressed in fancy furs and jewels as if they were going to attend the grand opening performance at the Met. Our Intourist host or guide was a wonderful Russian lady who spoke perfect English and didn't leave our side for the three days we were in Moscow. We attended several concerts and a performance at the famous Bolshoi Theatre. The immense red velvet curtain, emblazoned with the Hammer and Sickle symbol, was pretty impressive. The performance was a ballet, and arrangements had been made to have a special luncheon with the performers the next day. The next morning was free and I told the group I would have a bus waiting for them at eleven A.M. outside the hotel to take them to the luncheon.

At 11:A.M no one was there. I started to call their rooms, when a couple of them showed up. They said the others were still getting ready. By 11:30 I was going crazy, The Intourist guide said that we had to go. I said that we couldn't go as only half the people were on the bus. Then the ones on the bus started to complain and said lets go leave them behind. By the time we all got to the hall where we were to have lunch, the Russian performers were leaving. I pleaded with them to stay, but all they said was in Russian and it didn't sound too complimentary. The Intourist guide was very apologetic to our people who really didn't deserve an apology. The luncheon had been set up beautifully with crystal glasses, flowers and more; it looked like something out of a movie set. The tour members couldn't understand why the performers left. I didn't want to say it was because they thought we were a bunch of ugly Americans, but that's what it was. The cold war was still on at that time.

The rest of the tour was not much better; it was like herding a bunch of sheep. I had one woman who was always lost. If I told everyone that the bus was outside to the left, she would go to the right. I would count heads on the bus and she was always missing. I would find her wandering around looking for the bus. This happened time and time again. There was another woman who wanted to have the window open in her room, at night. Because all rooms were double occupancy, it ended up that I had to switch her around with others until I found another lady who didn't mind the open window. So it went through Leningrad, Budapest, Prague and finally our farewell dinner in back in Amsterdam. One thing I forgot: when we left Russia, their Immigration Control officers searched my entire group. One lady had some Russian rubles; the officer said it was against the law to take Russian money out of Russia. When she said it was just a souvenir, the officer suggested she spend it in the gift shop. The women threw the rubles on the floor and said she didn't want any dirty Russian money. They all laughed at her. Another lady had a Rosary in her purse and a letter from her son, who was a priest. They took both items, several officers took the items into a back room, and it was about thirty minutes before they returned the items. I don't know why, but they didn't ask me to open my suitcase.

I have escorted a number of groups through Europe, Eastern Europe, and Africa, but I am happy to tell you that I have never had to endure such a group again.