Fork on the Left

When a particular Marco Beach Boy boarded the Pan Am Flight 103 in New York City, he had no idea the same transatlantic flight would explode with a terrorist bomb over Lockerbie Scotland two years later.

The year was 1986 and it was the Beach Boy’s first flight to Europe. The vacation plan was simple but the world of international intrigue and conflicting politics is never simple. The world headlines and newscasts were constantly reporting terror attacks, but for a Marco Beach Boy who was invited by friends and family for a three-week castle tour in Germany, the excitement of international travel far outweighed any sense of danger.

When the workhorse 747 started down the runway, it seemed to lumber along forever. The airplane rolled on and on and it was at this point during takeoff that everyone aboard must have understood the airliner was completely full. There were no empty seats and the plane was heavy with passengers, fuel, and baggage. As the airliner finally broke free of the runway and began to rise into the night, the chatter from the passengers fell silent except for the older man from Germany who was sitting next to the very naive Beach Boy from Marco Island. “Oh very good,” the German gentleman explained. “We are now out over the ocean. If there were to be a terrorist attack, it certainly would have happened over New York City.”

The man from Germany then paused for an evaluation of the Beach Boy beside him. “So you are an American,” he began with an accent. “Not many Americans traveling these days. Therefore, you must believe there are not terrorists hiding around every corner. Good for you. You are a brave young man. I have always admired Americans. Americans are amazing. I fought against American soldiers in the Second World War. I was an officer in the German Army. Would you like a cigarette? Perhaps a Cognac?”

After declining the offer of a cigarette, but accepting the cognac, the airplane droned onward and outward over the Atlantic. At 2:00 AM, the sun came up and the flight attendants began moving through the crowded cabin to ask the passengers to close the sunshades.

When the airplane made a landing in Frankfurt West Germany, the former German officer shook hands. “Please be careful my new friend, there are those around us who do not wish Americans well. Keep your eyes open!”

The warning was obviously heartfelt and well received, but when the Beach Boy met his family and friends in the airport terminal the friendly warning lost traction. The words of warning returned however when the group was walking by a shopping area before the baggage claim. Suddenly there was construction equipment, scaffolding, and heavy clear plastic covering a large opening to the outdoors. In the distance, through the plastic, a group of airliners was a moving blur on the runway. Closer to the terminal an army tank and military jeeps with soldiers were waiting on the tarmac.

“What’s going on here? New construction?” the Beach Boy asked the friends and family that were quickly walking with the rush of other travelers. “No,” one of the friends from England replied. “This is where a bomb exploded about two weeks ago. The news was reporting that the terrorists were looking for Americans.”

Even with the imposing jet lag and time change creating a surreal experience, the world seemed to slow down for everyone walking past the terrorist attack, the soldiers and the army tank, and the bombing sniffing dogs that worked in teams with their human counterparts. The walk through one of the largest airports was indeed a sobering half-hour until the eight friends and family were installed in rental cars and cruising down the Autobahn at about 140 miles per hour. International travel was very much life in the fast lane - even the semi-trucks were traveling well over one hundred miles an hour

With the sprawling city of Frankfurt far behind and the German countryside spreading out between summer green forests and low-rising hills, the cars pulled off the Autobahn and into a busy town with several outdoor cafes.

After everyone found a seat at a large table under colorful umbrellas, it was time to order lunch. With drinks and food orders underway, it was almost time to relax.

As everyone was having drinks and waiting for food, there was a noticeable amount of pedestrian traffic moving around the sidewalks, alongside the café, and the busy street. There were people from everywhere as this was a popular West German tourist town, but there was still the bothersome knowledge that the Iron Curtain and communist East Germany were only a few miles away.

When the food orders came, the Marco Beach Boy promptly picked up his fork with his right hand and began to eat. After only a few seconds, two of the Englishmen appeared to be in shock. “Don’t eat like that!” one of them urgently whispered, “Everyone will know you are an American on vacation. Only Americans eat with their forks in the right hand. We have to teach you how to eat with your fork on the left. Otherwise, everyone will know with a glance that you are American. It could be dangerous for everyone! Don’t forget this summer, there are terrorists looking to target anyone from America, and anyone traveling with them.”

The fork instantly transferred to the Marco Beach Boy’s left hand and the European lesson - taught by the Englishmen - of how to eat with the Fork on the Left and use the knife on the right became a skill and a habit that is still a way of life for many of the Marco Beach Boys and Girls today.