Chapter 60: A Dream Found and a Dream Lost

I was driving back to Sydney, after a wonderful time at the spa. We were relaxed and looking forward to return to our normal life. After arrival, the rest of the day was spent putting things away, planning our agendas, and coming back to real life.

Weeks came and went, and we had one major problem. The due diligence we had ordered when we had looked at the company in South Australia was full of flaws, and I assumed that fraud was involved. It took us time to get out of that mess, but the integration of the Victoria company went very well. There were obvious problems with the unions, but after several townhouse meetings, staff accepted our rules. We were flying to success. We received another offer to invest in NT increasing our stock value to about two billion dollars, but we rejected the offer. It was a family company, and it would stay that way. Cash flow was excellent, and we always had enough money to invest in new projects. We expanded our international branch and bought a company in New Zealand.

Maureen was an exceptional people manager and had instituted rules that guided our HR departments on how to look at new employees. Every management-level candidate had to meet her personally. We made few mistakes when we hired new people; it was surprising, however, how the percentage of female employees proliferated!

Our management team was coming along fine, with Jenny the driving force behind our excellent productivity drives. Peter was doing well in Queensland, and we had two good candidates for Victoria. Jason Simpson was happy at the University of Sydney, and his lectures were well attended; his contacts in academia and business often led us to new projects and potential new hires.

Eileen had started to enter Sydney high society - soirées inviting leaders in politics and business, and it had become a success story - people occasionally contacted me with a plea to be put on her invitees’ list. She also started to become involved in charity causes. Jane and/or Jean came to Sydney quite often, and soon they had their own room in Allan’s home. We saw them all the time, and temptations were always dangled in front of me, but we both knew that it was a game. Maureen and Jenny started to take German lessons.

“Who knows when we will need this? After all, I am a Reichsgräfin and have to represent our family!”

It took some time, but in the end, they could maintain a basic conversation, and go shopping in almost fluent German.

We continued our exercises even in light rain, and I was proud when we kept Jenny in sight after three laps in the park for the first time. Perhaps it was just courtesy, but Jenny was too competitive to be nice! Maureen’s and my times had been improving with the regular running. We had our sessions at the dojo where Sensei had asked me to teach new students - proof that I was doing well.

Maureen had stopped at the first Dan in her black belt, but Jenny was trying for the fourth Dan. One night an elderly Japanese was sitting beside the tatami, apparently a guest of Sensei. He was dressed in his karategi in the traditional kata cut, but his obi was still hidden. The Sensei called us to the tatami to greet the guest; we bowed, and he bowed back.

I was asked to teach the younger students, and it was complicated - especially one student who didn’t seem to understand one move and messed up the others. I had to use all my patience to get him to concentrate and get the kata right. The guest seemed to observe me more than the others, and at the end of the session, Sensei called me to present the katas and then, in an unusual move, asked me to fight him. He was Nanadan, the seventh-degree Dan and much better than I, but I decided to go out and do my best; the visitor had observed me all the time, and that must have meant something. We knew each other well, and even with his better technique, it took him several minutes to score a hit. We bowed to each other and then the visitor came to the mat.

Sensei introduced us, and I took a deep breath when I saw the belt with the eight black stripes on a yellow background - he was Kyuudan, the highest-ranking Dan master in Australia! He asked me to go through the katas once more, and then he nodded. Saying something in Japanese to Sensei, he bowed to me and the students and left. It was beautiful to see the grace in all his movements. Everyone had stayed, watching us and Sensei called for our attention.

He called us back to the tatami, and when we were sitting in front of him, he bowed and again, we bowed back. He stood up and called me to the middle of the mat, bowing to me. I did not understand anything, but as tradition required, I bowed back.

“Students, we had today a visit of the master sensei in Australia - this is an immense honor. He was here to observe the class, specifically James. As you know, a promotion to a higher than sixth Dan can only be granted by a master sensei, and I have recommended for some time now that he should visit us and observe James. He agreed with my recommendation; James, because of this evaluation, you are promoted to Rokudan, the sixth Dan. Honor the trust we have in you and continue your work, teaching and leading.”

He bowed again, and everyone in the room bowed to me; overwhelmed, I bowed back, accepting the honor and the responsibility. Sensei handed me my new obi, and there was a final bow. There was also applause; I knew that I had received a great honor, and now it was my duty to deserve it. Studying martial arts was not only to focus on exercising and fighting; the higher Dans were expected to show leadership, competence in instruction and motivation, and few were officially authorized to teach students. I knew that my responsibility in this dojo had increased significantly.

At home, Maureen took out a bottle of champagne.

“Do you know that there are probably less than fifty Rokudan senseis in Australia, and you are one of them? Congratulation, my love.”

Jenny kissed me. “Oh, Master of the Sixth Degree, will you show us new moves tonight in bed?”

They laughed, but later there were no new moves, only the old ones, created in love and tenderness.

One night Peter was in Sydney; he had matured and was now a successful business executive. We invited him and the Js for dinner, and it appeared that some interest had flared up; it seemed that they were interested, too. It might have been a coincidence, but somehow Peter always managed to be in Sydney when they were in the city after that encounter. In the end, it was Jean who got attached as the two clicked - one a bit laid back and disorganized, Jean more disciplined, but with a drive of her own. I hoped that it would end well.

Business life continued as usual for us during the following months. We signed more contracts, the mess in South Australia had been straightened out, and business was picking up. There was an article about NT in the Sydney Morning Herald, and to my surprise, there was also a short note about us in the business section of The Economist.

When there was another offer to invest in NT, now valuing us over three billion dollars, a reporter from The Wall Street Journal interviewed us. He was surprised by the rapid growth of our company and even more about the very positive evaluation we received from almost all customers. He wondered how long we could stay as a family-run business, and I told him that one of the first things I had learned in business was never to run faster than your feet could carry you. We had an excellent positive cash flow that financed our expansion. We also were lucky enough to find companies with good potential but lousy management.

To my surprise, I was called to Canberra one day. The Minister for Commerce and Services had asked for information about our fast-growing company. He was quite impressed; obviously, it helped that Allan was by my side.

At the end of my presentation, he hemmed and hawed and gently suggested that it might be time to expand outside of Australia since he had received a lot of pressure from our competitors to limit our growth. We were now the biggest logistics company in Australia, and he wondered when somebody would go to court against us. If we were expanding abroad, we would receive full support from the government and business associations; in Australia, we could expect problems from unions, competitors, the left-wing media, and whoever else were against a solid success story.

We took the hint and looked at other countries. We chartered our second business jet, and within a few weeks, it was flying nonstop.

Maureen had practically left the management floor and only occasionally appeared for specific problems. She had taught her replacement well - a young woman out of university who showed a lot of promise. Jenny, as always, was running the company like a well-oiled Swiss watch.

Christmas was coming, and we decided to go back to the Blue Mountains. Peter would be coming, too, since his attachment to Jean had become very tight. It was tempting again to continue at the pool with our minimal dress code; unfortunately, when Peter joined us, minimal became small. The restaurant had maintained its two stars in the Michelin Guide, and Allan and I made certain that we stayed at the bar while the ladies were discussing wines. Jane seemed to have found a suitor, too - the son of one of her major food suppliers. I was happy for her, but even so, she would not stop flirting with me, to the amusement of all. Peter proposed to Jean, and she accepted his ring.

We went back content and relaxed, ready to enter real life again.

Our business was still growing and another offer to invest in our company valued us now at over four billion dollars. However, we rejected it again - we were a family business. I was named NSW Young Executive of the Year, and the politicians became interested. Would I like to join the Labour Party? Or the other one?

I remembered what Eugene McCarthy once said ‘Being in politics is like being a football coach. You have to be smart enough to understand the game, and dumb enough to think it’s important’. Well, politics were important, but for me, I could find better ways to spend my time.

I declined politely but got more involved in our business associations. The new government asked Allan to join it as the Minister for Business Development. He was ideal for the position and accepted the position. This caused some problems for us since he could not participate anymore in the decisions of NT, but the company ran now like a well-oiled machine.

It was time to protect our children’s future.

We went to the Head Mistress of the school closest to our house (rumored to be quite good) and asked her how we could help the school to become even better. She was open to new ideas and together, we developed our ‘NT Project Future’; we would finance additional courses for the teachers and introduced a merit system where at the end of the year - all teachers who had exceeded their targets (and that included principally the grades of the students in their final test) would receive a generous bonus.

This caused problems - the unions were deadly set against a merit system. Also, the neighboring schools wanted the same system, especially the benefits, but without the sacrifices. We were lucky with the Head Mistress; she defended the new system, and since she had local support and some friends in the State government, we finished the first year with a small but promising success. Eileen decided to implement the same system in Brisbane in another school, and there it was successful, too.

People (especially politicians) were getting interested in the school we had sponsored. The support was not unanimous - the teacher unions still had a powerful voice in Australia. It helped when we introduced special projects for outstanding students. Nobody could argue against helping the young ones!

The following year, other schools had copied our system with varying success; I believe that our school was successful because we stayed closely involved. Maureen was the center point of our family and was thinking of starting a vineyard with her mother - super-premium wines only, naturally (watch out, Grange!), and she started a project to help young orphans.

I ran the company, which had expanded into Asia and Great Britain. We now had our own small fleet of cargo planes and fully integrated logistics. DHL and FedEx started to consider us as a serious competitor; we gave them a good run, but they had no chance against us in our own backyard. There had been a two-year economic downturn; we managed to hold on without any dismissals, and our staff supported us to the full; when it passed, we gave them all a very generous bonus.

Whenever I had to travel, either Maureen or Jenny traveled with me; when once I said I was old enough to go out on my own, they reminded me of their promise that I never would sleep alone. We had our arguments, and sporadically someone snapped at the other. Still, we always obeyed one of our basic rules - never go to sleep angry at the other, even if it would cost hours of heated discussion.

We enjoyed each other emotionally and physically, including an occasional smoked salmon and vodka night! We were working hard but continued our running and martial arts exercises. Jenny won a state-wide competition and her fourth Dan, and I was now a teacher at Sensei’s dojo.

Maureen decided one day that she wished to visit Germany to see the old de Winter estates, now situated in Poland. It took some time to organize our agendas, but we managed it in May.

The main problem was Jenny. She protested vehemently that first, she could not run the company on her own, and second, how could she survive with the two of us traveling for over a week? Where was the commitment that we would never separate? Actually, she could run the company but certainly would not survive the separation! There were tears, mumbled comments that were better not to listen to, and at the end, the enormous sacrifice - if we really wanted this and were ready for her to cry every night, alone in her bed, unable to sleep, she would consent ... but she would have an infinite amount of Brownie points!

Well, the company problem was easy to resolve - we promoted her to Executive VP, Operations. The other issue was only resolved when Maureen promised her that the next time, she could travel with me the same number of days. As always, I was not asked.

The flight to Berlin was fine - we bought Business but as always, were upgraded to First Class. However, the three-hour flight from Berlin to Gdansk was austere and bumpy and we were happy when we landed safely.

I tried to give Maureen a summary of what had happened to the city. Our estates had been not far away from Gdansk (for centuries, the German name was Danzig) and in the past, they had always been a central point for the Warmian-Masurian Region.

Poland was annexed by the State of Brandenburg in 1308. The Teutonic Knights dominated the region, and Danzig joined the Hanseatic League in the late 1300s, becoming rich and powerful. Prussia annexed the city and surrounding areas in 1793, and later, after the unification of Germany, it became a part of the German Empire. After the First World War, it was decided by the League of Nations that Danzig would be converted into a Free City, with its own boundaries and even its own currency.

After the second World War, it was annexed by Poland and the Germans were forcefully expelled. Danzig was the city where Lech Walesa freed Poland from communist domination.

Centuries ago, my family had been part of the Teutonic Knights and, in recognition of the services given to the Order and Brandenburg, was elevated to the status of Count. A German Emperor confirmed this about 150 years later, giving the de Winters the title of Reichsgraf, becoming part of the upper nobility in Germany.

Maureen was thoroughly impressed but, grinning, asked, “Why did you not receive the right to wear a crown?” I started to go back to definitions of nobility and royalty, but she stopped me with a kiss. “It was just a joke, my love.”

We rented a Lada (no BMW this), an ugly little car, with an undefined ugly grey color and several rust spots, and overall, not worthy of a second look; unfortunately, it was the only car they had. We drove east for one hundred sixty kilometers (and I wondered several times whether we would reach our goal), until we reached a small city. The landscape was fabulous with small rivers, vast forests, and when we arrived at Elk, a big lake. The agency had recommended the Jasminspa Hotel, and while it was not up to the standards we were accustomed to by now, it was clean, and the staff was friendly. We had our shower (no fooling around) and then asked for directions to the de Winter Schloss. The manager, an elderly gentleman, looked at me.

“De Winter? Are you from the de Winter family?”

When I nodded, he came forward and shook my hand. “Welcome, Mr. de Winter. Your family has been here for centuries, and you always were fair and just with us. We regret that you had to leave, and the people who replaced you are not what we expected. The Schloss has been abandoned, and you’ll cry when you see it. These people have no respect for history and tradition!”

His German was a bit bumpy, but I could understand him easily. He asked us to sit with him, and he got a bottle of something distilled; Maureen had one sniff and politely declined. I poured the drink down - occasionally, suffering fast is better than suffering for a long time. It was vodka and not a bad one.

“Tell me, how is the Graf de Winter? We still remember him from before the war; do you know that the last thing he did before he went off for the war was build a school? And gave us money to maintain it? All is gone now because these new people only want to stare at a computer and earn money.”

I told him about my father’s death, and he swallowed, switching to English, about as bad as his German.

“He was a good man, sir. Is there still a Graf de Winter?”

Maureen smiled. “You’re looking at him, Sir. This is James Gustav, Reichsgraf de Winter, and I am his wife, Maureen.”

He jumped up. “Herr Graf, forgive me. Frau Gräfin, please forgive me!” I told him to calm down and tell us what had happened to our old estates and the castle.

It was a long and sad story. The communists had come into power, and the party chief claimed the castle for his own; two years later, he got fired for corruption and nobody seemed to care anymore. There was no maintenance, farming was too much work for the young, and the forest had claimed most of the area around the castle. The city was slowly dying because there was no industry, no tourist attraction, and the population had become old and poor.

“Herr Graf, it was so different when your family looked after the area and us. We had a good school, an excellent hospital, and even a good cultural life. And now? Dead, dead, dead!”

He poured another drink, and I saw part of the reason that this had happened. With no goals for life, no expectations for a better future, people just gave up or left. What a pity!

After a while, he recommended a restaurant run by a friend who offered excellent and solid food.