We All Worked BY WALTER KOCH
A THIRTEEN-DAY JOURNEY by ship to New York and a threeday and three-night bus trip to Utah, we landed on a cold, wintery March 19, 1954, on the corner by the First Security Bank in Logan. T h e r e we got our first look at our new hometown. It was a nice sight, but, oh, how I felt forsaken and my wife the same. Everything was strange. Nothing belonged to us. We couldn't speak the language and had no jobs. It was the first and only time doubts came up in my mind. After a short time we got the impression we were in a land of plenty. T h e people were friendly. I had no more problems with mir and mich, sie and du; here it was only 31010 Some people brought us canned food, some a chicken, and old Mr. Meurer from Nibley said to me, "Come to my place. You can pick up some sacks of potatoes." For many weeks the Horlacher butcher shop gave us pigs' feet and pigs' heads for nothing until we didn't like them any more. It was a time of adjustment to a new life-style.
AFTER
Marie and Walter Koch and their sons, Helmut and Alfred. Courtesy of the author.
Mr. Koch is a resident of Logan, Utah.
