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The train I just left at Hövelhof Station is heading to Paderborn.
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When I arrived with the local train at Hövelhof Station one hour late, my first
worry was to miss
Karl Epping's successor
on a Friday afternoon.
I looked on the Internet and discovered that Karl Epping's meat factory had
disappeared. Still, at the same site, Epping Green Energy was now located,
i.e., from pork to photovoltaics or sausages to solar modules.
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Click to enlarge (©Google Maps)
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Hövelhof center. On the upper right, the train station and my Hotel Viktoria.
On Parkallee; "Epping Green Energy." Behind is the site of the former meat
factory, now transformed into a public square called Hövelmarkt.
I rushed to the address and rang the bell. The door opened, and I looked up
to a man standing 6 feet 8 inches. "You must be the grandson," I
murmured.
Markus Epping, CEO of Epping Green Energy, invited me in and offered me a
coffee.
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©Epping Green Energy
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Markus wants to make his Senne community CO
2-neutral by relying on
solar energy. Lately, he generously donated Hövelhof two e-bike charging
stations for free use.
And then, I mostly talked about my childhood stay at the housing complex his grandfather Karl had built outside Hövelhof, now called
Eppinghof. I told Markus I had spent one night with my mother and brother at
his grandparents' house. On short notice, the British occupiers had ordered
all people to leave their homes at Eppinghof to make room for Jewish women.
They didn't come, so we could all return to our lodgings the following day.
The local church was the next stop on my visit to Hövelhof, but Markus
warned me not to be disappointed. The complex was completely rebuilt in 1979
except for the two steeples.
I stood in front of St. Johannes Nepomuk, corner of Parkallee/Schlossstraße,
where I saw the main entrance walled up.
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New St Nepomuk's vast interior is in bungalow style, looking at the
former main entrance.
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So, I entered the church from the main entrance in the back.
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Red Baron likes to light candles.
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St. Nepomuk halfway up the wall, contemplating the cross. Why does Hövelhof
honor a bridge saint without a significant stretch of running water?
Read Nepomuk's legend here.
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Click to enlarge (©Google Maps)
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Then I walked down Schlossstraße. On my right is the town hall that was built
where the village school used to be. Here, I turned left and took the long
walk down Kirchstraße toward Eppinghof, located in the upper left corner of
the map.
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Did I remember this prayer station on my way to school?
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Note the many houses in the area that did not exist in 1944. At that time,
Hövelhof had less than 5000 inhabitants. Now, the number is close to 16,000. The
Eppinghof, where we lived at number 23, is still way out.
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In 1945, only the houses on the outside of the street called
Eppinghof
- the odd numbers - were built. Click to enlarge
(©Google Maps)
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The "official" entry to Eppinhof is on the upper right via Gütersloher
Straße.
To the right is Bredenmeiers Kapelle, which we children avoided because it
smelled damp and musty. Red Baron remembers that once in the year, the
chapel is the destination of the Hövelhof Ascension procession.
Red Baron learned, "The small chapel halfway to the Hövelhof church.was
built in 1896 by the then-farm owner on the 'Kirchweg' to the
Vollmeierhof* Bredemeier "
*A Meierhof or Meyerhof (from Latin: maiores villae) was a farm or
building occupied by a noble or ecclesiastical estate administrator (the
Meier).
"Inside the chapel is a copy of a Madonna from 1725 on loan from the farm
owner; the original is still in the family today."
Turning around the corner, I saw the first Eppinghof house built. It is still in
its original state. There, where the trailer is parked, we children were playing
in the sand when a low-flying plane approached over the gable of the house and
strafed us.
House 23, where we lived, was transformed into a bungalow. However, the two
windows on the first floor and the entrance door are still in their original
positions.
I knocked at the door. A man opened it, listened to my story, and shut it
again, quite unfriendly.
Anyway, the second floor where my family lived was gone, so I was looking for
other houses that were still in their original state.
Down the street, I found what I was looking for. Forget about the solar panels
(Epping Green Energy?) and the skylights. The window on the house's gable is
that of our kitchen/living room. Most impressively, on the outer wall of the
gable wall, you can still see the square where the small window for venting the
only mutual toilet used to be.
Being back in the village, I needed a rest. I had a pot of coffee and an
enormous piece of cherry pie at Bäckerei Schuhmacher, located at the
bifurcation of Gütersloher and Bielefelder Straße.
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©ludger 1961/Wikipedia
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The green space opposite St. Nepomuk is flanked by the former unpretentious
prince-bishop's hunting lodge, which now serves as the parsonage.
The
Mahn- und Gedenkstätte für die Opfer von Krieg und Gewaltherrschaft (Memorial for the victims of war and tyranny) dominates the center of the site.
Here, as an example of the steles surrounding the memorial, the stele
marked 1944 is shown when little Manfred came to Hövelhof.
I read, "A scaled-down copy of the Hermann Memorial was scanned. On this
basis, a digital surface model was created. The then cut-out metal surfaces
were welded together and then painted."
In the
evening, Red Baron went to Hövelmarkt and had
dinner at the
Einstein. This central square is an attraction of the village.
With asparagus season over, I had the Sauce Hollandaise on a
schnitzel (a specialty?) with Bratkartoffeln, as my mother used to
make them with roasted onions and finely chopped bacon. Needless to
say, I could not conquer the mass of getting used to schnitzel, but I ate
all the fried potatoes.
*
