• Thank you to Carol and Steve Bowman, the forum owners, for our new upgrade!

Christmas trees - the past life I remembered as a child

PLE123

New Member
Hi everyone,

I've cut my story into several posts, because it is so long. I do apologise!

I'm currently in my thirties, but I would love to share my story of remembering a past life as a small child, so that it can be of use for parents whose little one is talking about a previous life.

I would love for it to be a gentle reminder of why it is so important to take your child seriously and talk to them about their past life AND about this life. My parents did not take my memory seriously and in turn I didn't take them seriously as guides for this life, nor did I take my current life and body very seriously.

I think the world of my parents. They are gentle and kind people. They still don't feel like my parents though - not even today. I hope that any parents reading my story will be encouraged to talk to their child, even if it is difficult to do so or if it goes against everything you believe(d) in. Your bond can only improve. And their bond with their life and body can only improve also. I really hope you will!

I apologise for any spelling and grammar errors, because English is not my native language.

-----

I recently talked to my parents about my early childhood, to see if they remembered me talking about my previous life at all. They didn't. They told me that I always seemed very interested in the topic of reincarnation, but I never talked about any specifics. My parents remember me as an exceptionally bright, talkative kid, with an amazing memory. I often spoke with wisdom that seemed beyond my years. They also remember me as someone who seemed a little odd to them. I somehow never fit in with the other family members. They sometimes thought I was like a cuckoo's chick! They loved me for the eccentric kid I was, but they never quite understood me.

They were very correct in saying I had a very good memory. I remember everything from the age of about 2 years old. Including how often I spoke or tried to speak to them about my previous life. In fact, these moments of great frustration - trying to talk to them, but not being heard - and my recurring nightmares about a certain moment in my previous life - are all I can remember of my previous life at all. As per usual for all of us (it seems), my memories have faded. They started to fade when I was about 7 and I don't think I've remembered anything about it since age 9.
All I have now are memories OF remembering and trying to do something with the memory in this current life.
 
part 2


One of my earliest memories (I was about 2 years old) is of waking up screaming from my christmas tree nightmare (I'll describe the memory below) and telling my mother that I am so scared that my friends will be hurt. She asked me which friends and I tell her they are the people I knew before I knew them. My mother told me that I knew nobody before I knew them. It confused me. I was under the impression that my mother knew everything (hah! :-D Good tactic, mom!), but now she doesn't even know about my friends? My mother explains to me that the nightmare is just my mind making things up, because I pressed my ear to the cushion too much and I heard my own heart beat. I think that's a really strange answer to my panic for my friends. I try to tell her that there is a very real threat to my friends' safety and that I want to protect them, but she keeps talking about my heart beat. I leave it be.


I also remember a time when I was too tiny to climb onto the toilet seat by myself. My mother needs to lift me up. I tell her that when I was a big man, I could pee standing up. She tells me that I was never a big man - I'm a little girl. I tell her I can show her how I did it. She tells me not to, that I should pee like all girls pee. I tell her that my other mother let me pee like a boy. She tells me I never had another mother. I am used to her not knowing about these things by now, so I let it go.


I remember some more moments of me telling her that I was allowed to do stuff when I was a big man. For example, I was perfectly capable of handing out money all by myself when I was a big man. I cried a little when I yawned when I was a big man - when was I going to be able to cry a little when yawning in this life? I was allowed to smoke when I was a big man. I could drive a car by myself when I was a big man etc. Needless to say my mother didn't know what to say to any of these statements.


It's interesting, because up to a few years ago, whenever I was not particularly present, I sometimes got a total shock from glimpsing my (now female, young, fairer skinned and taller) body. For example, when riding a bike - thinking of nothing, I would look down and get such a shock from my feminine hands that I would have to get off the bike to catch my breath and let it sink in that there's nothing weird going on - I'm just me in the body that I am currently supposed to be in. Or I would get out of bed in the middle of the night, sleepily walking to the toilet and getting a complete shock in realising that I don't have the kind of tool a male person would pee with - if you get my drift - anymore!! That always woke me up, I can tell you!!


Very disconcerting moments. They have stopped now, but they have lasted an awfully long time. I can deduce from these moments that I was a small, older guy with skin that was a slight shade darker than my current skin.
 
part 3


When I was 9, I woke up from the nightmare yet again. I had stopped talking about it to my parents, but I was sooooo tired and frustrated about it that I needed to go downstairs to talk to my parents. I told them about still having this nightmare and about it being real. And about not knowing how to protect my friends and not knowing what to do about never being happy again. My mother talked to me again about my heart beat causing me to make things up in my dreams. I got very upset about this and start crying and telling them that they never listen.


They FINALLY took me seriously. They told me that they think it's a fantasy, but that I obviously think it's real. But regardless of it being a fantasy or a reality, that I am here in this life now. That I am safe with them. That my friends are not in this life, so it is not my obligation to do anything for them now. That I am absolutely safe to be happy and carefree now.


FINALLY the conversation I have waited for, for years. I think about it for a little while, realise they are right and I finally feel a little bit grounded in this life and family.


I had the nightmare every week or so. After the conversation with my parents I only had the nightmare twice again. Once when I was 11 and once when I was 15. And I woke up knowing that I was safe now.


This was the kind of thing I would have loved to have heard as a two year old.
 
part 4 - the Grimaldi's :)


My most precious moment - when it comes to remembering my previous life - is a moment when I was on holiday in Monaco with my parents. I was four years old. We walked in the city center and people began to line the streets. My mother asked them what was going on and they told her that a little child had been born to the princess! They are about to come home from hospital and everyone wants to get a glimpse of the little baby. I was very curious - another child for princess Charlotte! The people laughed at my excitement and also that I remembered princess Charlotte, who is the great-grandmother of the child that has just been born, not the mother. This is princess Caroline, returning home. I thought they are all a bit confused. (I have always had a great self confidence! :-D) I knew my princesses of Monaco! My mother asked if the baby is a boy or a girl. It turns out to be a boy. I remember feeling sad. I remember princess Charlotte had a girl first and then I read in the newspaper that a boy was born to her. I remember thinking how sad the girl must be that she no longer was going to inherit the throne. (BTW, I was four and couldn't read in this lifetime yet - however I remembered having read a newspaper!) My mother wanted to go, because my sister needed to take her midday nap and we still had to do some shopping. I got very upset, because I NEEDED to see princess Charlotte return home and to make sure that I'm right and the people lining the streets are wrong. My mother told me that I won't be able to see anything, because all the people are standing in front of us - and we need food and my baby sister needs sleep. I got very angy, which is very unusual for me - I never got angry - this is why I remember it so well. I started to scream and shout and embarrass my parents in the middle of the Monaco streets. The people still thought it was so cute that I was so adament to see their princess. They made way for me to go to the front and sit on the street, so I had perfect view. My parents let me. I remember how the car zoomed past and I distinctly remember how it wasn't princess Charlotte in the car. I feel very disoriented, like my entire life doesn't make sense anymore. I get quite upset. My parents think I'm very upset that I didn't get to see the baby. I leave it at that.


BTW, this baby being born was Andrea Casiraghi. Indeed the great-grandchild of princess Charlotte.


This memory of a memory is very precious to me, because it gives me a date of when I was alive. I must have read the newspaper soon after the time of birth of princess Charlotte's son - prince Rainier - who was born on the 31st of May 1923.
 
part 5


I remember one line from my previous life that I have repeated to myself from as early as I remember - and at that moment I was already remembering it for a very long time. That is the line "This time I must do better." (It is a translation into English and it is also a translation into my native language. I'm uncertain in which language the original thought was. I think it was probably in German, but I'm uncertain.) It still drives me nuts to remember this, because I don't know anymore what I was doing at all. For all I know I was thinking of better bombs to flatten all of Europe with during the upcoming war. I don't want to be better at that, this time around, thanks! Also, what does 'better' mean? How did I do before? - I don't know. It's super frustrating to remember this, because I'd love to live up to it...if only I knew how.


---


I remember having visited a lot of places around Europe. I know my way around many big cities and in many art museums and also in churches. It still happens that I visit somewhere 'new', only to discover that I am REvisiting it. I must have been a person that traveled a lot. Also, unsurprisingly - I still love art, history, religion etc. I still enjoy visiting the same places that I apparently enjoyed visiting then. It is a great feeling to see a work of art that I've seen in my previously life. It somehow gives much more meaning to the piece.


---


My final memory is my most detailed memory. It is both my happiest and my saddest moment that I can recall in all my existence. This is the moment I have had nightmares of, countless of times. The nightmares started way before my earliest memories. In my earliest memories I already was having these nightmares for a long time:


I'm a grown man and I am in a building that is not my house. I think it isn't even anyone's house - it feels like it may be some type of community hall, or perhaps a theater or a church. There is a kitchen in the house though and we are also staying the night there (or a walking distance to it? Perhaps in our houses?) It is winter and christmas has already been. I'm there to celebrate with friends. I think we are probably going to celebrate Sylvester together. There are about five other couples there. My wife is in the house too. Embarassingly, I can't remember her face or name - nor the names or faces of anyone there - nor of myself. I remember how lovely she was though and that she moved beautifully and was an intelligent and kind soul. I remember our marriage and love as very easy - nothing difficult or problematic. We simply supported one another through life. (Ah, I miss that!)


We had all just arrived and are settling in when I say that we really need a christmas tree, because it's not Three Kings Day (Epiphany) yet. I'm kind of joking, but not really. I really think the symbolism of the christmas tree is very important and we need one (I still do to this day think christmas trees are super important, btw!). But I do realise that it is silly to buy one after christmas. However, my friends pick up on the idea and we jokingly agree to go get a christmas tree!! The men all pile into the car. (I remember the car very well. I remember THAT but not my wife...ai. From what I've seen on google, the type seems to be from the early 1930's). We drive (I think I'm at the wheel, but I can't quite remember) down a snowy hill and up a snowy hill to a house (which is a kind of German-type farmhouse )of a guy that we all know who sells trees. The man had already gone to bed, but he's not angry at us at all. He comes down and walks with us to a patch of land that has a lot of trees that we can pick from. We have lamps of some kind and we walk around among the trees, joking about ones that are too small, or too big, or too scrawny etc.
 
part last :)


I stand back a little and look at my friends and the trees. Suddenly I get the feeling that this will be my last carefree happy moment and that I need to remember it really well (heh...that worked!). I feel scared for a moment and think: "Am I going to die?" But I have the strong feeling that I won't. This calms me down a bit and I resolve not to think anything of it. The thought is too morbid for the lovely time that I'm having. But then I think: "It's always good to commit such a happy moment to memory." So I stand there and look at my friends and at the trees and the tree-sales-person and I look at the beautiful, dark starry sky. I really soak in the scene and my emotions and everything about it. (It is SUCH a happy memory - I have tears of joy now, remembering it again).


Anyway, my friends include me in picking out a tree again and the happy mood returns. We're joking and laughing and finally pick a tree and help the guy chop it down. We then take it to the car and tie it to the roof (!!!) with rope. We have to open the windows to put the rope through to secure the tree. One of the rolls of rope came from the little trunk of the car. The door to the trunk had a spare tire on it.


I pay the man - seen as it was my idea to go buy a tree in the first place. I remember my wallet - which was flat and made of leather and had coins and notes in it. No photos or passes or anything like that.


We drive back to the place where our wives are. It is extra cold in the car (it already had been on the way there), because now the windows are open and the icecold wind is blowing in. We are laughing and joking all the way back and bring in the christmas tree with great joy. The wives are very pleased with our choice and have found things to decorate the tree with. We set the tree up and decorate it and then we sing songs around the tree (I kid you not! A group of grown ups! And we were serious too! :-D ) Then the wives bring out all kinds of lovely things to eat and drink. Cakes and warm wine and hot chocolate. Yum!!


We then sit around the tree and talk. I sit and talk to friends (a couple). I have no idea what we talked about. It feels as though it was about religion and politics, but I can't be sure... It's all very relaxed. If it was Sylvester we were celebrating I don't remember that we ever counted down or anything - or wished each other a happy new year. So I guess what happenes next was before 12 o'clock.
 
part very last :)


I remember someone coming in - running, out of breath - I think it was a young(ish) guy - telling me news. And I have NO idea what he told me precisely - it had something to do with the destroying of either my reputation, my ideals or my work. (Or maybe all of them...) But from the moment I know this news, I feel cold inside. Like ice or stone. And I feel the ice or stone break. I feel like I'm dead on the inside, but somehow still alive on the outside. My first thoughts are that I need to protect my friends. "They" (whoever they are) should not go after my friends. My second thought it that they finally "got me". And my third is that this means that it is war. They have found me and hurt me and now this means I can indeed never be carefree and happy again, because now I need every waking moment and thought to work relentlessly towards my life's purpose.


In my nightmares the news always came and then something fantasy-ish would happen. The christmas tree would explode or a giant would step out from behind it or something like that. However much that scared me as a kid, I always knew that this part was not real. The part before it was the real memory. And that always happened just the same, in every dream. And even now, that memory is clear as day to me. Well...not names and faces and not the actual news that came, but the emotions are crystal clear. And it has really happened and it was me that it happened to - I know this.


I -SO - wish that my parents had talked to me about this and had asked me what the news was. I'm absolutely certain that I remembered this as a child. I'm sure I also remember many more mundane things about my life. At the time, I just didn't think it was important to remember this the rest of my current life...


The feeling of my soul - very literally - breaking, is the worst feeling that I know. It scares me (and has always scared me, also as a two year old) to know that this is even a possibility. I remember lying awake as a little child, thinking of how my soul felt whole again now, but that it was probably going to break again very soon. I think it's a very unhealthy thing to know as a two year old, that living in this world can do such things to a soul...


I wish my parents would have told me that I was in a new life with a new chance of being carefree & happy when I was tiny. That they would make sure my soul wasn't going to break again. That my friends were all safe etc.


And I wish I had some more details to go on, to know what I was working towards in my previous life. Is it something to strive for? Was it worth breaking my soul for? What was the news? Were my friends okay?


-----


Thank you for reading this whole story! I hope it will encourage parents to please talk to their kids!
 
Thanks for sharing this and welcome to the forum! I really admire parents who listen to their children and don't dismiss their past life memories as fantasy, it can make a huge difference to the child's development. I also had nightmares from a very young age, but I never even considered talking to anyone about it because I knew what the reaction would be. I had the nightmares for years, I still have them occasionally, and I often wonder if I would have stopped having them if I could have approached my parents about it as a child.
 
Thank you!


Thank you for the welcome, Chris!


I'm sorry to hear that the nightmares still plague you :-(
 
Welcome to the forum. :) This is very good. Very detailed. This is what we like, the more details the easier it is to figure it out. You are lucky your parents did not take you to a doctor and get you drugged up to forget the memories and nightmares.


It sounds like you were alive in the 30s in either Germany or Austria. Or maybe Monaco? The holiday places the time and date. Whatever it was happened in January. This is where I would start researching. Hitler had several purges in the 30s to get rid of any rivals or possible enemies. Anyone who might disagree with him was suspect. Finding out what happened would prove to yourself (and your parents) that you are not crazy. It also sounds like you may have had a premonition back then of what was about to happen as your former self.


See if this means anything to you:


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Night_of_the_Long_Knives
 
Hi PLE123


Welcome to the forum. Fascinating stuff! Your English is perfect by the way.


I remembered things when I was little and my parents didn't take it seriously. They told me it was my imagination and that I shouldn't make things up, etc. That all just caused me to try to shut it down, which didn't work. I used to wonder if I was a bit crazy or something. It's great that this is better understood these days.

.... And I feel the ice or stone break. I feel like I'm dead on the inside, but somehow still alive on the outside. My first thoughts are that I need to protect my friends. "They" (whoever they are) should not go after my friends. My second thought it that they finally "got me". And my third is that this means that it is war. They have found me and hurt me and now this means I can indeed never be carefree and happy again, because now I need every waking moment and thought to work relentlessly towards my life's purpose...
Boy. I'm curious what all this was about. Obviously, since this was the 1930s it's something to do with the outbreak of WWII I'd say isn't it? Yes, I'm sure your friends are OK! Have you tried doing any regression to try to get more information?
 
Thank you :)


Thank you both for your welcome and your suggestions!


Tanguerra, I have been toying with the idea to do regression therapy, but I'm quite apprehensive. I'm rather skeptical and also scared to not be in control of my own thoughts. I don't know if I could accept any kind of outcome from such sessions... Do you maybe know of good resources, so I can read more about it?


I do think WWII may be the reason for my 'death-on-the-inside' . I have researched the Night of the Long Knives (thank you, Argonne1918!) as well as Kristalnacht and many other pogroms, massacres, raids as well as anti-nazi operations. I may well have been a nazi... I know I was working towards a noble goal that meant a lot to me, but I may have been a very misguided person in that life. I may well have been on the wrong side of history. This is actually my main motivation for wanting to know more. The thought that I may have been a nazi is quite unbearable.


In any case, none of the situations seem to have happened on Sylvester or even in the time between Christmas and Epiphany...


The only event that I know happened on new year's eve in the twenties or thirties, is that the Goetheanum - a sort of community center for the anthroposophical movement - burnt down in 1922, most likely it was arson as a protest. I'm very interested in anthroposophy in this life time, but I don't think I was in the previous one. I don't know for sure, but it just seems unlikely to me. (At least, I did my best to avoid it for the first 30 years of this life haha) Also, the car that I remember driving on that night looks like the type of cars that were made in the 1930's, so 1922 seems like the wrong date also. And I've read biographies of a few of the main people involved in anthroposophy, and no celebrations with christmas trees were mentioned on that night.


Other than that I can't find any kind of 'big news' of something that may have happened on new year's eve in Europe during those years...


So perhaps something very personal happened. Although I don't think it was, because somebody had come running to find me to tell me the news. And also, I feel like it was a group that was after me (and potentially my friends) and not just a single person with a grudge. But maybe it was something very local or regional.


And yes, it seems like I had a premonition, Argonne1918. I have many of those in this life too, so it seems like the ability has carried over from the previous life :) And thank you for pointing out that at least my parents never took me to a doctor. You're right! :) That is a very positive thing, indeed!!


Do you perhaps know of a way to research the car type? I've been looking at google images of european cars of the 1920's and 1930's, but haven't found 'the' model just yet.


Also, do you perhaps know a database of historic events that happened on the 31st of december in all kinds of years that is not US oriented?


And also, is there any way of finding out which newspapers reported on the birth of Rainier III of Monaco? Or do you think that perhaps the newspapers covered this event world wide?


Thank you both again so much for the suggestions!


PS: I have read some of the other childrens' stories here and I realized that a lot of us have strange phobias that may be related to a past life. I had a phobia for drinking when I was a little child. I still severely dislike drinking. I do it, because I have to, but if I'm not careful and force myself to drink, I get quite dehydrated. I hate it. I don't know if that can help in figuring things out, because it seems unrelated to any memory I still have now, but I thought I'd mention it.
 
PLE123 said:
Tanguerra, I have been toying with the idea to do regression therapy, but I'm quite apprehensive. I'm rather skeptical and also scared to not be in control of my own thoughts. I don't know if I could accept any kind of outcome from such sessions... Do you maybe know of good resources, so I can read more about it?...
Have a look in the FAQ section. There is a lot of useful information in there. Doing a regression is nothing to be afraid of. You don't lose control of your thoughts or anything like that. You might see dramatic depictions of hypnosis in the movies, but it's nothing like that. If anything happens that you are not 100% comfortable with, you just wiggle your toes and open your eyes and you come right out of it. The worst thing that ever happens is people might get a bit upset about a sad memory. If you ever see anything frightening or painful, you can just skip over it.


The most common result is that either nothing much happens or people fall asleep. Since you seem to be very good with the dreams, maybe just try asking for the answers to come in a dream before you go to sleep? Keep a book by the bed to write it down as soon as you wake up. That works for a lot of people.

PLE123 said:
PS: I have read some of the other childrens' stories here and I realized that a lot of us have strange phobias that may be related to a past life. I had a phobia for drinking when I was a little child. I still severely dislike drinking. I do it, because I have to, but if I'm not careful and force myself to drink, I get quite dehydrated. I hate it. I don't know if that can help in figuring things out, because it seems unrelated to any memory I still have now, but I thought I'd mention it.
That's an odd one. Perhaps it suggests drowning?
 
PLE123 said:
PS: I have read some of the other childrens' stories here and I realized that a lot of us have strange phobias that may be related to a past life. I had a phobia for drinking when I was a little child. I still severely dislike drinking. I do it, because I have to, but if I'm not careful and force myself to drink, I get quite dehydrated. I hate it. I don't know if that can help in figuring things out, because it seems unrelated to any memory I still have now, but I thought I'd mention it.
That could also be torture related. Maybe forced to drink? Maybe had your head under water until you agreed to talk? Maybe drank poison? During wars the enemy soldiers would often poison water wells.
 
It seems less scary with tapes. I'll look into that, thank you!


And I don't think I drowned. I love swimming and always have done. There's nothing more joyous to me than being afloat in the sea. I also thought so as a kid. So I don't think that was it.


Maybe poison yes... Or perhaps poluted water. Perhaps clean water was hard to come by in those days also? I think that fits, because it's not the swallowing that is the problem, but the fact that the fluid is inside me and I can't get it back out. Oddly enough I have no problem with solid foods in the same way.


Thank you both for the ideas!


And I will have a look into the regression tapes.
 
Well, the youtube regression video was interesting and not scary at all. Thank you for giving me the courage to try it out.


I didn't remember a whole lot, but I got some glimpses and they're helpful. I remember what my wife looked like, which is nice :-D Now I no longer remember the car more clearly than her hahaha


Also, it seems that I thought of myself as a journalist primarily, although I wasn't quite one. I wrote some articles for magazines or newspapers and wherever I thought I could be published or heard when I was younger, but it seemed that it didn't have the effect that I thought it would. People didn't really seem to listen :-D I think I wrote books also. I have no clue about what kind of content. But that was my life's mission, anyway. To communicate something to people. It was a confusing jumble of nature and politics and religion. I couldn't make out a topic or a title... And next to that I probably had a day job, because I remember getting ready to go to work too, which also had to do with writing, but in a different manner. I don't really know how.


The news I received for my 'inner-death' didn't get very clear either. I just know that what I needed to do was to write and talk even more about what I was writing and talking about before. So whatever happened was designed to shut me up. (And perhaps to shut others up also.)


I think death from poisoning or polution is very likely, because I died from liver failure. (And I'm quite sure it wasn't self-induced. I seemed to be a very conscientious person, so I wouldn't consistently consume much alcohol, I'm sure.) I died in a very calm and beautiful manner - with lots of loved ones surrounding me, but it was too soon. I hadn't reached my goals yet. (People hadn't properly listened yet :-D )


So that isn't very helpful for pinpointing where I lived and what I did exactly, but at least it's something. I'm quite hopeful that I wasn't a nazi, because in that case I would probably have been writing propeganda and people would have been listening to me in the thirties - unfortunately. So I think it's a safe bet that I wasn't one of those. That is a relief.


Also, the regression helped me to understand why I chose my parents. That was very helpful! I have a good relationship with them these days, but I'm sure this will help me strengthen our bond even more. I wish I had remembered it better when I was a child, but it was so frustrating that they didn't listen to me, that I probably forgot.
 
Very good. 👍🏻 Each time you do a regression you will get more information. You will probably see other lifetimes as well. Keep a journal and write everything down.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
In case you are not familiar with Russian history . . . Stalin's purges began in December, 1934. Also, any writer in the 30's was probably on pins-and-needles all the time as what they were allowed to write increasingly became dictated to them by the party. Many writers went to prison.
 
Oh, and Russians don't do much for Christmas. They celebrate New Years Eve. Might have started in the 30s as well. I'm not sure about that one. Perhaps, a native Russian can help?
 
Blueheart, that is so interesting! Thank you for that information! I'm only vaguely familiar with Russian history, but that is going to change :) Thank you!
 
I know the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas on January 5 or 6th, like the Greeks. The communists transfered the Christmas celebrations to New Year's Eve with "Father Frost" bringing presents.
 
Very detailed childhood memories and very fascinating! I am glad you are taking the first steps in figuring out these questions that have plagued you your whole life. We are here to listen and help you if you need it. I would trust your inner feeling or "gut" about details you are questioning from your life back then.


My significant other is Russian and it was always tradition for them to celebrate on New Year's Eve and New Year's with a tree in the same way we celebrate Christmas even though they are Jewish (it was more a cultural thing based on where they lived not a religious thing). They kept up the tradition even when moving to America. It would be interesting for me to ask the grandparents if that is something they followed also.
 
There were a number of American companies, including Ford, who did business with the Soviets in the pre-Cold War days. President Franklin Roosevelt resumed diplomatic ties with the Soviet Union and re-opened the American Embassy in 1933 or 34. There is a joke about Ford cars: "Fix Or Repair Daily". Having owned Ford cars I think there is some truth to that. It's probably because Henry Ford wanted his cars to be affordable for the most people. The Model T introduced in 1915 was the first car lower income people could afford.
 
Thank you, argonne1918! That fits with the 'middle class' life I remember.


I've looked up more information on the car and it seems that there were about 5000 sold and they were distributed in all of Europe. So that doesn't narrow it down, unfortunately... (Well, it does narrow it down to the continent quite definitively, but not to a country.)
 
PLE123 said:
I've looked up more information on the car and it seems that there were about 5000 sold and they were distributed in all of Europe. So that doesn't narrow it down, unfortunately... (Well, it does narrow it down to the continent quite definitively, but not to a country.)
I doubt if many Ford's were sold in Germany in the 30s. Britain and France had their own auto companies. The Soviets may have been the biggest customer. Ford may have even built a factory there. I think Henry Ford even visited Russia.
 
This article about Poland's automotive industry might interest you. Apparently, Ford and GM cars for the European market were made in Poland. Poland also sounds like a fairly good guess as to where this memory was--several different cultures, languages, holiday customs, and so on.


culture.polishsite.us/articles/art463fr.htm
 
Back
Top