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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Political Trial leads to Trade Mark

11)


1952 was the year that German scientist Dr. Albert Schweitzer was duly honored with the Nobel Peace Prize for his tireless dedication and work at the Jungle Hospital in "Lambaréné", the Capital of Gabon, Moyen-Ogooué District, West Africa.
Humanist Schweitzer was reckoned Germany's idol of the time.
Dr. Albert Schweitzer *1875 †1965





Germany grew and so did our family. My parent's number Five arrived and my older sister and brother NOW could rightfully moan that they had to "share" even more because that's what they already did when I, being number three, arrived. 
Yeah, my jealous older siblings!
(This was conveyed and told by "outside sources"  ;)



I vividly remember one morning standing in front of the big blue sink in our "Kinderzimmer" (children's rooms), my mother braiding my pigtails when I finally noticed that she had pretty well grown out of proportions.
'Mutti, du bist aber dick geworden in letzter Zeit!'
(Which is to say, "Mutti, whew, you are eating more? You became very big lately!"). As it would be an embarrassment, she whispered that "we" are expecting a baby.
Not missing a beat I just answered: 'I hope it's a boy, we are already 3 girls'.
And that was it. I still was a tiny miniature edition of the human species, mind you!




In the middle of the summer the youngest member of our family arrived and YES, it was a boy - our "Goldi-Locks".
Stephan was a pretty baby and even stayed that way throughout his childhood, which, what experience taught me, is not always a given. Everybody loved and adored him and we older ones where - you guessed it - mighty jealous. Five kids were naturally divided by age gaps - it panned out that I was the "big" one of the three youngest. BAD position to be in.



I was not the first born, neither the heir to the throne. I was not "finally a son again" neither sickly as my younger sister who demanded a lot of attention.
I was not pretty (matter of opinion, sure) but a tomboy and healthy to the bone.
I was the "Sandwich Kid". 


And let me tell you THAT was not desirable and no fun. No soul was interested in me.
This was surely no pleasure in our family where always nannies and household helpers were around, living, sleeping and eating with us. That made for a huge family where guests - business and otherwise - were always welcomed too. Sometimes we had a "midday meal" table of 12 or more people. Chatter occurred only when strangers attended; otherwise, as told before, our meals were taken in silence. The parents spoke a little "business" to each other but that was all.
At one point we had a household maid who was a sunny happy-go-lucky young girl. Her name was Gisela. She teased my Father asking him to smile for a change. Father looked mighty irritated at her and produced a wry smile. After dinner she asked him:
'So, Mr. Koziol, tell me what you just ate'. This question made my eyes bug out, stunned as I was by her sassiness.
No, Father could not tell. Gisela had noticed what was daily reality for us. Father was always totally absent, his thoughts away on business and politics. Naturally, Mother felt miffed and gave the girl the evil eye. How dare she expose this!
Mother had pottered about in the kitchen all morning and her husband wasn't even aware what he had swallowed.



Father's company kept growing and being the character he was, he also took care of his people. Once a year all company employees received a "lunch bag" (a little bigger than that) that even included a small bottle of wine and were invited to a day-long excursion either by train or by ship, cruising the Rhine River, always ending at a nice restaurant where all their hungry bellies were filled. Having fun was mandatory, and these events became the year's highlights.
Come Christmas, Father arranged for a Christmas Party right under the roof of our factory in our so-called "Festsaal", Festival Room that even had a stage with lighting and a curtain.
Today we would say a Party Room, right?
Carnival Societies held their festivities there and Koziol produced the needed Carnival fraternity honor medals.



These pictures are similar to the honor medals we made










Now we had a church and a festival room for many societies to hold their festivities there and in case you are wondering: yes, use was always free for everybody who would behave properly.

Father's business had nothing to do with Ivory anymore although he had become an avid collector of all things Ivory and more over a collector of all objects of beauty and artistry. Those would consist of figurines and unusual mirrors, elaborate antique or just elegant chairs, illustrious chandeliers and lamps, Persian rugs, crystal, wood carvings as well as artistically aesthetic jewelry for my mother. The most beautiful (and expensive) porcelain was used daily. He wanted to see and enjoy it, not look at it stashed away behind glass.

The firm's hallmark had changed too and and in an unexpected way:
It all started with Father's involvement in politics, and a trial.
Father was fully engaged in politics and therefore it was inevitable that he had to clash with some big shots. He was never shy to speak his mind. He fought for what was right - even with the help of full page ads in the area's big newspapers. He was "THE Koziol" - not Mr. Koziol anymore.
I even had the honor to "be seated" on a knee of Germany's Chancellor Konrad Adenauer in our famous Gentlemen's sitting room during one of his visits to our home.
Father was engaged in such a big fight with one of his political foes that it ended up in court. It was a two weeks trial but one day when I returned home from school, I found the house flooded with flowers.
For me that just meant that the trial was over. Finally! There had been no subject other than the trial spoken about at home. It was dreadful and soooo boring for me.
All the flowers though, were the sure sign that Father had won.



During the trial this important member of the Parliament was so lost after all, that he did not know what kind of "kitchen sink" to throw at my Father after all else had been attempted. So, he resorted to an insult, by bringing up Father's unusual name.
'Your honor, do you even know what the name "Koziol" means when translated? It is Polish and means Billy Goat.'
The entire court room went into a laughing fit for such an "ingenious" defense.
Father himself had not known this and, needless to say, used it to his advantage.
  
Our new Hallmark was born

Later on, the "Mr. Impo-tant" who challenged Father even had the nerve to ask for compensation for his "invention." Politicians!

To be continued! (Read from chapter ONE!!)


Please don't forget to hug your kids tonight! Sadly, I totally missed out on that :(
Hugs and/or showing affection was a no-no in our family.

In the meantime, Please, sign up, become a "fan", follow me? Leave a message? Tweet it, click on +1 ...?? I'd be grateful. Thank you!
 
This is what I am doing now, trying to pay my bills. Maybe you find this very gift you were looking for? :
My personal Web Site
And I am selling part of my jewelry HERE

Kindly

Johanna (YooHUNNa) .... scroll down, there is MUCH more:
You GOT to start at the Beginning: Chapter 1 !


koziol invented the Dream Globe, taught dish brushes and shoehorns how to stand on their own two feet, and made the world a more colorful, cheerful place. Since 1927, koziol characters have been colonizing households around the globe. And while their shapes and functions may have adapted with the passing years and trends, the underlying philosophy has never changed:
Make your world a better place and yourself a happier person.

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