Backstage we could hear the murmur of the audience, which sounded like an ocean. The lights dimmed, the curtains parted, Father Wasner gave us the key, and—there was silence. One could hear that famous pin drop.
During the first portion of the concert, which included sacred music, madrigals and recorder selections, we wore long white dresses with black vests, while the men wore black suits. Then at intermission we changed to costumes of the type worn on Sundays and feast days in the Austrian countryside. This part of the concert always included songs and yodels from Austria and folk songs of many lands. We included favorites of the area in which we sang. So in America, we learned songs like “Home on the Range” and “My Old Kentucky Home.” Often local managers brought us folk songs the night before a concert and asked us to perform them. In different countries these pieces were in foreign languages and had only one melody line. Father Wasner had to set the songs into more parts for us to sing, and we had to learn the language, text, and music by heart in one day’s time. In this way, our program was greatly enriched.
An unexpected addition to our program occurred in one of our Christmas concerts in Town Hall, New York City. Johannes, almost four years old, was with us on stage as Mother introduced the family. When Mother said, “And this is Johannes,” he turned to her and said, “Mother, I want to sing too.” A bit embarrassed and certainly surprised, Mother said, “But, Johannes, do you know a song that you could sing?” “Oh, yes,” he said loud and clear—“Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” Mother replied, “Well, then, go ahead and sing.” Town Hall reverberated with his “chick chick here and chick chick there.” He knew every animal on the farm, and to the delight of the audience, he sang all the verses. At his last “oink, oink, oink,” thunderous applause exploded from the audience.
Not understanding this sign of appreciation, Johannes was frightened and left the stage in a hurry. Backstage he announced to Rosmarie that if Mother asked him to sing again, he wouldn’t do it. Rosmarie did not take him seriously, so she failed to inform Mother of his strong feelings on the matter.
Our next concert was scheduled in Boston’s Jordan Hall. Again, Mother introduced the family members one by one. She had been pleased that Johannes’s solo was such a success in New York City, so after she introduced him, she added, “And now Johannes is going to sing for you.” “No, Mother, I am not going to sing,” he stated. “But, Johannes, I have told the audience that you will sing.” Again he announced that he would not sing. Mother shrugged her shoulders and made a helpless gesture toward the audience. Then turning to Johannes, she said, “All right. Then you can go offstage.” There was thunderous applause as the audience watched in rapt attention the struggle between Mother and her victorious young son.
After a typical concert, people from the audience would come backstage to compliment us on our performance. In some cities, there were receptions. As well meaning as these events were, we were sometimes so tired that we would have preferred to return to the hotel. Because we had to stand in a reception line and shake hands with so many people, we did not even get to eat. But it was touching to meet friendly and enthusiastic people throughout the country.
Papá was quite bored with shaking so many hands. Therefore, to amuse himself, he would count the people, in German, under his breath as they came through the line, making a gracious bow to each one. The audience members were thrilled when they met him because they thought he greeted them personally. Only Mother, to her amusement, actually heard Papá counting and understood what he was saying.
Then it was back to the hotel, and the next morning we left for the next city. Concerts were usually sung on consecutive days, except when the distances were so great that there was a day of travel between. Occasionally there was a day off when we could do laundry, mend stockings, shine shoes, and rehearse our music. Wherever we went we included sightseeing. Mother made sure of that, and in her conferences with Freddy Schang, she found out which important sights had to be seen on the next trip. We saw art museums, famous churches, extraordinary natural sites, and historic places. Had it not been for our extensive tours, we would never have seen these wonders.
On tour we children had our own fun occasionally. We composed a newspaper for our three authority figures: Papá, Mother, and Father Wasner. Johanna was the editor. We all got together in a hotel room to compose articles, poems, pictures, and cartoons of all kinds. In our newspaper, we tried to convey the thoughts and topics we felt needed to be communicated to our elders but could not be said directly. They were hand-drawn on plain light-brown wrapping paper, larger than any magazine. Since we needed a free day to create these important pieces of literature, we did them only occasionally; no regular editions were possible.
Much laughter accompanied the creation of these newspapers, so much so that Mother once said she wished she could be part of the fun. “You’ll have the fun when you read what we wrote,” we told her. Mother had a good sense of humor, and she enjoyed our creations. One of the issues was in honor of Papá’s sixtieth birthday in 1940.
We kept the newspapers for many years. To our dismay, they went up in smoke with many other keepsakes when our original home in Vermont burned in 1980. I still enjoy the memory of those rare days when we “children” got together for fun and laughter to create our family newspaper while on tour.
After our long tours, there were records to be made in New York City. Soon after we arrived in America, we recorded many of our songs for RCA Victor on 78-rpm records. Later we made records for the Concert Hall Society. We also recorded five albums for Decca Records. It was an exciting experience to work in recording studios of such high quality. Thank God for these records! By recording them, most of our repertoire—Christmas music, folk songs, recorder pieces, and sacred music—has been preserved and is readily available today. The recordings have moved along with modern technology and now appear as cassette tapes and compact discs for anyone who wants to know what kind of music the Trapp Family Singers really sang. Since the movie The Sound of Music gained such popularity, it could be easily assumed that the movie music was the type sung by the Trapps. Far from it!
During the early years of concertizing, we returned to our “borrowed” home in Merion, Pennsylvania, to spend our vacations. In the summer of 1940, the whole Trapp Family sat in the garden in Merion, having after-dinner coffee while we enjoyed the cool evening. As we looked up into the starlit sky, we saw a dome of light form above us with occasional flashes of green and red lights on the outer edges of the dome. The dome itself was white—as northern lights usually are. For about forty-five minutes we watched this awesome sight and followed every movement.
Northern lights are not common as far south as Philadelphia. Little did we know that very soon, we would be directed north to a permanent home for the Trapp Family in America.
Our New Home in Vermont
Our Green Mountain Home
After we had lived in Merion for approximately two years, Mr. Drinker had a chance to sell his little house. The Trapp Family had to find another summer home. The whole family had lengthy discussions about whether to rent a house or buy a piece of land. Renting seemed to us impractical and uneconomical. Every month we would spend our hard-earned money, and then it would be gone. If we bought a piece of land, we would spend the money once and then own the land, so we decided to buy.
When we lost our money in the bank failure in 1933, we were young. It then became a challenge for us to do things for ourselves that had previously been done for us. We quickly understood that there was great potential within each of us to meet this challenge, and we became a do-it-yourself family. In addition, a kind of pioneer spirit arose among us. I guess to my father’s disappointment, we did not aspire to a South Sea voyage but instead talked about a farm where we would all work, build our own log houses, and plant vegetables and fruit trees. The idea of acquiring a farm was so firmly in our minds that when the ship that was to take us to America for the first time was named the American Farmer, we too
k it as a sign from heaven. Of course, the primary reason we had come to America had been to give concerts, but that did not dampen our dream of owning a farm.
Now that most of us were grown up, with ages ranging from two years to thirty years, strong and healthy, we considered buying a farm and operating it ourselves. It had been our dream, and it meant we could stay together. When we were still living in Aigen, Papá once talked to us about the subject of sticking together. As we were sitting in front of the fireplace, he took a stick and said, “Do you think I can break this stick in two?” We said, “Yes, Papá.” He broke it in two pieces. Then he took several sticks in his hand and asked us again, “Do you think I can break these sticks apart?” We said, “We don’t know, Papá.” He tried it, and sure enough he could not break the bundle of sticks apart. Then he made the analogy: if we go in different directions, each one of us can get lost or get in trouble, but if we stay together, we will be strong. Even though this lesson may not have been in the forefront of our minds, we nevertheless felt we should buy a piece of land for the whole family to own together.
That summer of 1941, we rented a small tourist home called “Stowe Away” near the village of Stowe, Vermont, for the four months until the next concert season started. Since we had no home of our own to go to after that particular tour, we knew we had to find some land to buy before we went on tour. After spending the summer in Vermont, we knew we liked the Green Mountain area because it reminded us of Austria.
While Mother was in New York conferring with our manager, the family decided to pray for a place to buy. We set up a little altar in the Stowe Away, with a crucifix, two candles, and two vases of flowers, and took turns praying every hour for three days and three nights. After the third day, a man named Alfred Mausolf called on us to say that he had heard we were looking for property to buy. He knew of a farmer who had a farm in the vicinity of Stowe and might be willing to sell because it was too large for the farmer to handle alone. He had a family with seven little children, his wife was sickly, and no help was available. Mr. Mausolf offered to drive us to the farm so we could look at it. The farm, three miles above Stowe, was located on a hill overlooking three valleys. It had a view into a most beautiful landscape on three sides. The setting sun threw a golden hue over the fields and grassland. It was more than we could have dreamed or wished for! There was all the sun that Papá could ever want, and he loved the place.
When Mother came back from New York, we showed it to her. She agreed that it was the place for us, and we bought it in its entirety—with a loan—in 1942.
Our dream was fulfilled. The farm included a big maple orchard, meadows, a horse barn, a cow barn, a pigsty, and a chicken coop, all in poor condition. The premises were strewn with empty beer cans, bottles, and pieces of broken farm equipment. Yet we could look at the breathtaking view, and it quickly became our new home.
After we had been sitting in the bus, car, or train for a whole concert season, it was refreshing to move around in the clear Vermont mountain air and work on cleaning up the newly acquired land. We did not mind getting up at 6:00 a.m. and working until 10:00 p.m. We were building our new home! Rupert and Werner worked very hard to clean out all the junk from the old house, but they could not help us for long. On March 9, 1943, they had to leave for Camp Hale, Colorado, to serve in the Tenth Mountain Division as ski troopers. After some further training in Texas, both boys were sent into the area of Mount Belvedere in Italy to fight against the Germans. Rupert, who had been assigned to the medic division, later told me that he was so close to the Germans, he could actually overhear and understand their conversations.
When our brothers were inducted into the army, our family choir lost two important voices, Werner the tenor and Rupert the bass. But that did not stop us from giving concerts and continuing to tour. Father Wasner changed our program from mixed choir to a women’s choir, although he occasionally sang a bass line with us.
Before the boys left, Werner promised that if they came home safely, he would build a small chapel on our property in thanksgiving. While the boys were in the army, we prayed fervently, asking God to protect them in their service to the country that had given us refuge. When Rupert and Werner returned to us in 1945, they received a joyful welcome during a session of our summer music camp. Rupert soon left again to pursue his medical studies, but Werner built the little chapel on the hill behind our house, where it stands today. During the time that the boys were away, little Johannes and we girls worked together to build the new house after one section of the old one had collapsed in a blizzard.
Papá, Mother, and Johannes lived in another part of the old house that was still standing, but the rest of us slept in tents at the edge of the woods and in the hay loft in the horse barn. Camping is the name for this kind of accommodation. Camping was nothing new for us. We had done it years ago on an island along the shore of the Adriatic Sea. We knew how to go about it. It was a wonderful adventure.
People from the Vermont Nature Conservation Department told us they would give us saplings of pines, larches, and fruit trees if we were willing to plant them ourselves. We were willing, and they gave us about a thousand pine saplings and as many young fruit trees as we wanted. They even explained to us how easy it was to plant them: “Push a shovel upright into the ground to open up the soil, stick in the sapling, step on the ground where one opened it, and it is ready to grow on its own.” We planted them, and they grew! Now, more than fifty years later, a forest of beautiful tall pines stands on the hill behind the Trapp Family Lodge. When I visit my family at the Lodge, I can hardly believe that we planted all of these trees.
In addition to trees, we planted a vegetable garden and a large strawberry patch. Papá and the boys learned to make maple syrup and worked the maple orchard in the early spring. The girls helped, and again, it was a wonderful time being in the woods. The result was three hundred gallons of grade A maple syrup the first year!
One necessity inevitably becomes vital, especially in the country—a cesspool. No matter what nice name one would like to give it, it is still a cesspool with the ditches that go with it. We learned that from Cliff, a villager who was evaluated as 4-F by the army and, fortunately for us, did not have anything much to do at home. Cliff knew the basics of living in the country and knew all about cesspools and their importance. He knew how wide, how long, and how deep it had to be, and most important in which direction the ditches had to flow. Once all that was established, we girls started digging.
For the first years we did not have or want electricity. Eventually, when guests appeared who were used to switching on the electric light when it got dark instead of lighting a kerosene lamp, the family felt we had better turn to the modern method of lighting our new home. That meant we needed permission from the county and the money to pay for it. The county officials told us if we dug the holes for the electrical poles, they would set up the poles and do the wiring. What a challenge! Because of the war, there was a shortage of men. Yes, we would dig the holes. We girls dug the holes, and the county gave us the electricity.
When the house was finally finished, it looked like an Austrian farmhouse similar to Gromi’s Erlhof. Red and white geraniums in green flower boxes looked down from the balconies, and a little bell tower with a bell, on the roof above the entrance, completed our new home. The big living room had a cozy bay window where we could rehearse. There was enough space for our large family and the guests who started to arrive. No longer did we spend our vacations in borrowed places. We had a home, some of it built with our own hands.
Now we had a piece of land, a home, and the enthusiasm for it but not much time. We could work there only from June until the end of August. Then we had to prepare for another concert tour. When we came home from that concert tour, there was not enough money left after paying for our manager’s fee and our publicity agent’s fee and our hotels, meals, and transportation to see us through the summer months. What could we do?
Mother came up with an i
dea. Why not start a music camp? Once, when still in Austria, she, my sister Maria, and some other members of the family attended a music camp in the mountains. There they learned about the ancient recorders, how to play them, and where to buy them. Singing was also included in these camp programs. Why not do something like that in Vermont for music lovers during the summer months? A music camp would be beautiful for people on vacation, and it would give us a living through the off-season. The whole family liked the idea, and the Trapp Family Music Camp was on the map. Again, all fell into place.
Just at the time we considered starting the music camp, the abandoned Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camp in the valley below our property was about to be torn down. Papá and Mother applied for it, and it was leased to us for fifteen years. It had a fabulous setting, with barracks for the guests, a huge dining hall with an adjacent kitchen, an outdoor amphitheater, and several other buildings, which were needed to accommodate members of our family. There was also a barrack for a chapel, a gift shop, and a recreation hall. Perfect for our music camp! After our concert tour of 1943–44, we prepared the camp buildings for our guests. Advertising flyers went out and guests came in.
Father Wasner led the singing, and after three days, the voices of people who had never before seen each other melded into a beautiful choir. They could hardly believe it was possible to turn a group of strangers into a harmonious ensemble. But there it was. Some of the guests formed their own singing groups after they returned home. One such group was formed of guests from Boston, one from New York City, and one from Rochester, New York. These groups got together once a month in their respective cities to sing and reminisce about the wonderful time they had in the Green Mountains of Vermont at the Trapp Family Music Camp.
Memories Before and After the Sound of Music Page 17
