Fehr Emergency Call 5015

3. Auflage 2021
ISBN: 978-3-7431-2923-8
Verlag: BoD - Books on Demand
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 262 Seiten

This book talks about some significant experiences during my childhood and how God has formed me for a future life in Africa and as ADRA executive director. It shows the breakout of a typical professional career into volunteer missionary work in Africa. After my permanent return to my homeland, I worked for a large civil engineering company managing multimillion Swiss Francs projects. I started my own planning company before I got called back into denominational work, to be the executive director of an ADRA country office and an ADRA division office. During my career, I traveled intensively in African countries, the Middle East, Afghanistan, and North Korea. I have been a resident in 7 countries (Cameroon, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Zaire, Rwanda, Turkey, and Switzerland) and have traveled to 66 countries. This book explains how I depended on my daily relationship with God. My heavenly father blessed me richly.

Jörg Fehr was born in the 1950s into a Swiss working-class family, as the second child; the only boy with one sister five years older and one sister five years younger. When he was 14 years old, his father started his own construction company, hoping that one day his only son, also a bricklayer by profession like his father, would take over. After the basic training in the Swiss army at the age of twenty, he followed a call to become a volunteer worker for one year in his church denomination's mission field. The year in Cameroon made an impact that would change his view of life for the rest of his life. He spent half of his professional career working for people that were not so privileged as he was.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Fehr, Jörg

Leseproben

EARLY YEARS It was 1950. In a large part of Europe, the results of World War II could still be seen. Switzerland, as a neutral state, was able to stay out of the war. Oskar and Emmi Fehr, a young couple married during the war, had just built their own home in a little town called Erlen. The village with a couple of hundred inhabitants had its name from the Alder (Alder in German means Erlen) trees that grow abundantly along the small creek in that area. Erlen was an agglomeration of three small villages. The center was called Erlen and was close to the little stream and the protestant church. Eppishausen in the east hosted a small castle. Estegen in the north, which was across a larger creek, the Aach. The railway line crossed Estegen. Therefore, Estegen had a railway station. Thanks to that railway station Erlen developed into one town, combining the three villages, and attracted even some industries. The modest Fehr's home was located at the town's edge about 50 meters from the small creek, facing agricultural land. The main view from the house towards the south opened to lush meadows and forests. The main road, linking nearby Lake Constance with Zurich, the commercial city and largest agglomeration of Switzerland, passed on the home's north side. During those years, automobiles were rather seldom. I remember, as children, we used to play on the road. My father, Oskar Fehr, was born in January 1921 and grew up in Eppishausen, about 50 meters from the small castle. He was raised in a family with eight children. He was a native of Erlen. I can imagine that it was not easy for him, being the boy who was in the middle, having two older sisters and two older brothers on one side, and two younger sisters and one younger brother on the other hand. Taking care of a family during the depression years was indeed a struggle. Nevertheless, his father being the postman of that town, was a well-respected man. My father did not talk much about his father. I never knew my grandfather. He must have been quite a few years older than my grandmother. My father did not speak much about his ancestors. The only thing he ever mentioned was when he could accompany his father to a music festival in a nearby town. Only a few years before he died, he said that his father hosted in his home a small group of Jehovah's Witnesses for worship. Fortunately, the family was able to send their children to high school after they completed six classes of Elementary School. My father loved to work with wood. He wanted to become a cabinet maker, but since two of his uncles were in the construction business, it was a given fact that Oskar would become a bricklayer, learning in his uncle's company. Emmi Nüssli, my mother, was born in the nearby town of Amriswil, as the oldest child to a young mother married at age eighteen. Her father tried to earn a living by doing odd jobs on construction sites. The young couple lived in the house of their grandparents. My great grandfather was repairing shoes in his workshop in the basement of the home. My grandmother tried to contribute to the household by doing several cleaning jobs for wealthy families. Within a few years, the family grew. Seven other children followed. My mother, together with her oldest brother, took care of the children that followed, besides going to school. When my mother was at the age of eight, her mother asked her to assist while she was giving birth to a child. In those days, it was practice giving birth to children at home. The midwife of the town was on standby for such cases. It was only after the child was born that the midwife discovered another child was following. Until her old age, my mother was telling the story about this second child, which came unexpectedly. She remembered that the midwife wrapped the dead baby girl into a rag and put it onto the couch. This experience traumatized her. Until old age, she often spoke about this, especially at birthday celebrations. The family could not afford to send their children to high school. After going through eight years of elementary school, my mother was not allowed to learn a profession. She would have loved to become a midwife. In the meantime, her father had an accident. He slipped on a banana peeling, which was lying on the road. The skull fracture was so severe that he died the following night. For this reason, after having completed the mandatory years of elementary school, my mother was sent to work in a textile factory to earn money and help support the family. Her only recreation time and social life with other people was in the gymnastics club. Gymnastic clubs and music clubs played an important role during those years. It gave the people a chance to mingle with others. It was in the gymnastics club where my mother met Hanni, Oskar Fehr's younger sister. One weekend, my mother was invited by somebody from her town to accompany them on a hiking tour at mount Säntis. Maybe these people felt sorry and wanted to give the young lady a chance to go out a little bit and see some of the nearby mountain scenery. Säntis is the highest peak in northeastern Switzerland. It can be seen from far and every year attracts thousands of tourists to climb the rocks or to take a ride to the top by cable car. It was on that very same day when some of the Fehr's family from Eppishausen also went on a hiking tour at mount Säntis. Hanni and Emmi knew each other and were surprised to find themselves doing the hiking tour at the same time. That was when Oskar started looking at Emmi, and Emmi began to be looking at Oskar. Obviously, they were delighted with what they saw and started dating each other. In 1944, still during World War II, they got married. One year later, their first child Erika was born. My father often talked about the first rented apartment in Riedt. Riedt is located 1 kilometer west of Erlen and is the town where my father's uncle had his construction business. During wintertime, there used to be ice on the walls in the bedroom. My father often said that with his finger, he was able to write his name on the ice in the bedroom. The way to the restroom led through another family's kitchen. In 1949 Oskar and Emmi started building their own home in the neighboring town of Erlen. Their only start capital for the new house was a few Swiss francs, just enough to pay for the water connection to the new plot. My father, who was an incredibly talented craftsman, and a trained bricklayer, did much of the construction work himself. Often, he worked on his new home almost the whole night to get it ready, ready for what? It was also during that time when some of the Fehr's family, mother Hulda Fehr, son Walter, and Oskar, got to know the Adventist message through Pastor Gustav Tobler senior. In fall 1950, the new home was ready to move in. It was about time because my mother was expecting to give birth to the second child at the end of the year. After a white Christmas, on Wednesday 27th December 1950, a 4 kg boy was born in the bedroom of the new home. Records about the weather during that winter show that there was lots of snow and temperatures way below freezing. Little boy Jörg was blessed because he was born into a family that was still very warm about the Adventist gospel message. The young Seventh-Day Adventist congregation started to meet in the upper room of the Fehr's home. Sabbath afternoon excursions into the nearby forests with a picnic and Christmas celebration as a church used to be the climax' of the year. Sabbath opening family worship on Friday evenings seemed to please the little boy. Sometimes he was leading out, pretending to be the pastor, announcing the songs, and kneeling for prayer the same way as my father used to do. I was that boy, and I have some memories of my early childhood. Some people try to tell me that my memory is only from other people, telling me the stories. Others say that I was like a small boy until late. While I am sitting, writing these lines, I still can see the pictures passing in my head. One day, it was Sabbath afternoon just after lunch, I lay on the wooden bench in our kitchen, drinking milk from the bottle. The bottle, still more than half full, slipped out of my hands, rolling down the other aisle of the bench. It came closer and closer to the edge until it dropped to the floor, where it broke into pieces. All the delicious milk spread across the floor. My mother panicked because she did not know how her little boy would now drink his milk. I can still hear my father say: "He is old enough to drink from a cup!" From that time on, I drank from a cup, and this is what I am still doing today. My mother often went to Amriswil, the town where she was raised. One day she went to visit her grandmother and grandfather. I was sitting in a small seat at the back of the old bicycle. Just outside of Erlen, construction workers were putting a new layer of hot tar and gravel on the road. One of the workers was signaling my mam that she could pass, but the freshly paved ground was still soft. The old tires of the bicycle lost their grip. Mother and I fell into the hot tar scratching the skin on the gravel. Can you imagine how hot asphalt on a soft, delicate children's skin feels like it? Worst of all, my mother's newly purchased summer dress did not look so lovely as before. It was ruined. I still see myself sitting on the kitchen sink at home, scratching tar from my skin. Nevertheless, we went to Amriswil by train later that afternoon. I had a great story to tell my great-grandmother. It was on a stormy and rainy day when my mother had to go and do some errands in town. A small school path linked the upper part of Erlen with the lower part of Erlen, which in the early days was called Estegen. Because the schoolhouse was...