Sometime in the early 50s my father tried his hand at leasing the "Bahnhof-Gaststätte" in Croya, a no-horse-town deep in Lower Saxony's deepest hinterland. While the trains were still running, the post-war German 'Wirtschaftswunder' hadn't reached Croya yet and the place was slowly dying.
The locals weren't spending enough to keep the lights on and we soon left again, and I have often wondered what might have become of me had we stayed, because we are all the product of our circumstances.
What were the circumstances facing us in Croya? This old picture postcard sums up the four noteworthy things about Croya: an old hostelry from 1758, an elementary school, a starch factory from 1884, and a lime-sand brickworks from 1911, all four destined for closure.
What limited education would I have received had I attended Croya's elementary school, and what limited employment prospects would I have had after leaving it? We are all the product of our circumstances, and I am lucky that our circumstances were so bad that soon after our arrival we were forced to leave again, this time to a much larger town which offered better schooling and later better employment prospects.
We never know what worse luck our bad luck may have saved us from, but in the case of Croya in deepest Lower Saxony, I am sure I know!
