I will never forget.  I was a returning adult student who was absolutely ecstatic about the German language.  I lived and breathed German, as well as one could in southern California, in order to learn about that culture and communicate in that language.  I had studied hard at my junior college and left there with an AA degree in  German language with honors.  I was ready to get my long awaited Bachelor of Arts Degree at CSULB when I arrived there, but not before I had a chance to be a part of the study abroad exchange program in Germany, to live with and learn from the German people.  Dreams of that inspired me to make sacrifices, hold two jobs while studying, to save money so I could do what less than 1% of American students do.

Wilm Pelters was my German Professor at CSULB and I, apparently, was his kind of student.  He was a native German, loved his language dearly and had a spunky way of charging up his students to learn German orderly and with interest.  For a student who craved more knowledge in her field, experiencing the very first couple hours of his advanced German class was a turning point for me.  I scrambled to catch the wisdom pearls he cast out to his students. 

He spoke elegantly and with enthusiasm.  He swiftly wrote down difficult vocabulary across the chalkboard, with an uncanny knowledge of exactly each term this student was pondering. He elaborated on subjects by entwining with them his own personal experiences: the history of his name in light of the Nazi era, the personal aftermath of WWII: searching for and picking out vegetables in the rubble-filled field near his home.  He spoke vividly and with color of his love of German culture, of music, of art, literature.  He spoke of the beauty of the seasonal change in Germany, winter into spring, and how one could mark that change on a drive from southern to northern Germany by the way the flowers bloom.  He lived out that country through his words as if we students were in that Standesamt with him when he was given his name, walked those fields with him after the war, saw those sights ourselves, heard those concerts and accompanied him to witness the blooming flowers along the German countryside.  He had so much wisdom to gracefully pour upon us and I opened my ears, heart and mind ready to soak it all in.

Although he didn’t cast much of his present personal life out in the open, we pieced together a picture from the colorful tidbits of his life which came out during various lectures attended.  Stories remain with me of his dear mom in Berlin, his love of quilt-collecting, his desire to someday return to live in Germany when he retired.

But, these colorful descriptions and stories did not take away from his seriousness about what he imparted to his students, and what we took away from his lectures. He did not take it lightly when someone didn’t put the effort in his class which he felt was needed in order that they succeed.  He sometimes publicly rebuked and was, at times, hard on us.  But, he was on our side and rooted for those “waywards” who took heed and showed improvement. 

He was not “Wilm” to me, as many students sometimes use a first name basis with professors in these smaller programs, but he was Dr. Pelters, a name deserving my respect and reverence.  When he asked one of us a question that caught us by surprise, jolting us to attention, it could cause some seat wriggling, but he seemed to have the genuine concern that we should walk out of his class with more than we came in with.  I took it as a sign that he expected more from us, which encouraged us to give more.  He cared and wanted us to succeed. 

He seemed a very very busy man, wasn’t a time-waster, and sometimes just would exasperatedly “cut to the chase” separating the wheat from the chaff in conversations with him.  Although it seemed he always had a thousand things going on at once, I never really felt cheated of his time, and though there was a sign which posted his office hours, I never really thought of them as “fixed.”  When I had a need it was always “When can you come to my office so I can help you?”

He not only generously gave of his wisdom, experience and time, but also of his possessions.

Something in particular I vividly remember was his gift of books. As an incentive in class he would reward people with German books from a stack of his own possession, which he brought to class for the lucky student who gave the right answer. There was  also often boxes of German language-related books in a box outside his office and he encouraged students to rummage through and take them. 

I remember having a particular German grammar problem, which I just couldn’t master, and I went to his office for help.  I asked him if he had extra exercises to help me practice, and he sprang from his desk to his bookshelf, happily handed me a book, showed me particular chapters and said “Here, do these.  They will help you.  And keep the book.  You can have it.  And here is another book which is good for that problem.  And you can keep it, too.”  Each time I left his office, my hands were never empty.

This was a kind of professor I had never experienced. It seemed sometimes that we were not only his students, but his own kids. I felt as if he was totally and completely on our side, rooting for us to succeed.  When we took a test in his class, he would scrutinize our paper before he would let us turn it in, not letting us get away with careless mistakes, sending us back to our desks to “reexamine” our test papers, until he felt we were “done.” 

The university’s German language program was small, but Dr. Pelters used every medium to its fullest to give us a rich picture of his native country.  He brought in videos and news articles, gave us computer assignments and even invited German guest speakers to class to speak. He encouraged German student gatherings, and actually attended the parties and get-togethers, himself.  He promoted a business marketing exchange program with CSULB and Hamburg, Germany, and at the time of my arrival he enthusiastically encouraged the study abroad exchange program to Oldenburg, Germany.  This is where I fit right in to the program. 

The invaluable year and a half I spent as an exchange student in Oldenburg, Germany, changed the course of my life. 

I was just one of the many many students Wilm Pelters taught in the 33 years he worked at CSULB and I doubt I really stuck out.  But, he gave so much of himself to teaching his students, he left a permanent mark on my heart.  My reverence and respect for him will always be there.  He will always be “Dr. Pelters” to me.

The last time I remember speaking with him, was the last day of my last semester at CSULB.  I asked him for a letter of recommendation to take with me to Germany, as I would be moving there soon.  I told him the news that I was engaged to a German, whom I met during the study abroad program, that he sent me off on. Instead of immediate congratulations, he looked sternly at me and only asked me concernedly “Does he treat you right? Don’t marry him if he doesn’t treat you right. You deserve the best.” something my own father had never even said to me. 

A few weeks later I received my letter of recommendation which probably contained the kindest words ever written about me.  If it was never passed on to a future employer, it didn’t matter.  His description of me as student sang out to me loud and clear -- as if it said “Well done, my good and faithful student.”  I had pleased my teacher.  

Almost a decade later, I sat at the computer to search the website of my old German department at CSULB.  And there, to my shock, I found a sort of obituary-ous article about this man who so impacted my life.  He had already been gone 3 ½ months.  For a person who lived to bind German-American relationship, he ironically died at a time when this relationship was severely challenged (during the beginning of the Iraq war).  It wasn’t fair that he was gone.  I never had the chance to tell him how important he was to me, how I thought he was a great person.  I never got to say “goodbye.”

I took a deep breath as my eyes fell down from those ominous words on the computer screen.  I looked over at the thick German dictionary in my bookshelf which I “won” in his class when I once raced to give the right answer.  I thought about his bright smile, his jokes in class, the last time I saw him, my experiences since I graduated which I could now never share with him now, but longed to. 

My daughter, in the midst of play, laughed in the other room “Kelly hat Geburtstag.  Sie kriegt viele Geschenke und es gibt auch Kuchen! Und…”  I walked in to her and my beautiful girl looked up to me without a blink and joyfully sang out „Mama, it’s Kelly’s birthday and she’s getting lots-a presents and there’s cake tooooooo!”  I always wanted to bring this little bouncy blonde haired, blue eyed bilingual to meet him. 

With unnoticed tears running down my face, I sat on her bed and glanced out the window at the German mountain range. It is rumoured that Schiller looked at this same range and wrote one of his famous poems “Der Spaziergang.” I took in the view with deep sorrow, but also gratefulness that I was able to walk with Dr. Pelter’s through his Germany, for the time I was able to. I waited for my husband to come home, whom I had met ten years ago on that German exchange program Dr. Pelters so passionately sent me on, so I could share the sad news with him.