June 2014 - Hi
readers visit my site and read my
Friendly greetings - Sven
It was a dark and stormy night ......
Nooo, anyway, I do not know how the weather was the night I was born.
I was surely not very old then.
But apparently it was surely quite late when I decided to make my entry into this world.
And then I would definitely also come early, because my midwife had convinced my parents that I was fully developed here a month before the normally scheduled arrival. But maybe
this early kick in the ass ...(sorry) w
here I am highest when I'm picking strawberries, has influenced me to become bad curious in the rest of my life, shall I leave it unsaid.
But certainly, my presence on Earth often been characterized by a sudden whim I obviously had to put into practice, without thinking too long, just to see if it really was a good idea I come up with.
Even if it was healthy and friendly, so being a part of an early birth - perhaps helped by midwife's eagerness to score a little extra payment - I could not decide.
But certainly it since helped fine on my natural curiosity, which often has brought me far away or have given me experience in other ways on the way to do it.
Maybe not always thought through, but as it has in turn often been fun and quite safe stimulating the desire to see more.
The desire to see more - jaaa, could alle well imagine.
My curiosity was certainly not the least, and brought often get me very near of trouble by my sister Lizzie, when I could not keep my hands rom her stuff. In the same way my
curiosity get fueled fine on trips with the family to
Sweden, Norway, Germany and Italy once.
Likewise, I remember family trips around Denmark, as something we all looked forward to with excitement.
My early childhood from birth to school, I did not remember much about in present time. But it's probably because I suppose broadly been living protected
and therefore has slipped easily and painlessly away. This
I can thank my wonderful parents for.
But I can well remember my childhood home on Lundtoftevej 288 in Hjortekær.
Lovely large house that was on a very large site that included enough to subsequently sold several plots from.
My childhood home was a 2 minute walk from the King's Deerpark, "Eremitagesletten" with the Kings summer palace where King Frederik and Queen Ingrid often came out. Kings Deerpark
was and is a great playground for us kids (and adults too) where I often went out among the deer and other animals and the woods og the little town named Raadvad was a big part of my upbringing, where experiences and games out here in the nature has meant so much
for me and in no way could´n been swapped with gold, silver and diamonds.
1957 onwards .....
here are probably a big part of holes in my memory, until I started in 1. class on Raadvad School in August 1957.
Here I got Mr. Brogård as teacher, as I well remember my other teachers. Mr. Lebech and Hansen, Mrs. Hansen, Wallenström just as well have been other teachers along at Raadvad, where there was never more than all knew everyone at the school and many were truly
good friends and girlfriends. One even thinks back in time happy, because each and all has influenced my junior year and in that manner provided ballast to get me to where I am today.
So I guess I owe Anders, Annelise, Annette, Birgit, Bo, Charlotte, Dorthe, Elinor, Flemming, Gertrud, Jan, Jens, John, Jørgen, Kim and Kim, Kirsten, Mariann, Marianne, Ove, Peter, Poul, Steffen
, Søren, Torben, Troels, Vibeke and Vibeke, a very big thanks for what they all gave me in my time in Raadvad School and indeed also in their free time outside school.
I am convinced that each and every one of my schoolmates and all my friends outside the school, each has sown exactly their seeds have sprouted and developed my personality in the directions I have chosen when there were more than one option, if I
can say it that way.
One thinks not much of it as a kid, but as the years pass is it obvious that we can all give our "everyday roots", especially in the early years, the credit for many of the selection or rejection, we have done later in life.
It was big classes back then, unlike now where it is almost like private lessons with private teacher.
Maybe it's better having small classes, but I think the various hung very tight back then because there was not so much to distract and punch mind, such as cell phones that beep constantly with text messages and whatever else other totally indispensable
wonders, to disrupt everyday life wherever you go in the world.
Well, Raadvad School filled the first 5 school year and was as I remember, a place we all liked to go, because it was not bigger.
In addition, we had the Raadvad forest, just outside free to use after school.
Forest with the gravel pit, Raadvad pond and the many other exciting places. I think almost all, at least the boys, used to play and many other things and strange incident we came on after school.
But as always, nothing last forever.
And here it was decided that Raadvad School would only accommodate the first 5 classes and we were then moved to 6. grade in two different schools, Trongårds School and Lundtofte School. Which in turn meant an untimely breakdown and division of the classmates.
Personally, I was determined to get to Trongårdsskolen.
But for reasons incomprehensible to me, I schould definitely move to Lundtofte School, which quite probably have significant consequences for my choices through the rest of my life.
In Raadvad School I imagine myself in the "Realclass" which probably corresponds to 9 or 10. grade today.
I can not quite remember when"Realclasses" were removed effectively, but the decision that I should move Lundtofte School, meant for me that I was completely locked up and did everything to avoid coming to school.
From being happy to go to school and get a good exam, I turned completely and wanted me just away from the school, which also succeeded with a 7.Grade exam which is really not very useful anywhere.
At any rate, it has not carried me forward so I had to push a little on myself during the course of business instead.
But no complaint about it, since the choice was my own and have cared for me quite well when I look back.
It was 2 years (6. and 7. grade) with a lot of truancy and self-invented diseases that could keep me home. Especially remember the one "disease" which went so far that I had to go al the way and get surgery at Gentofte Hospital and there had removed the appendix. Thoughtsabout admitting it was truancy, dropped me very far.
This "stunt" on my part, unfortunately led to several complications, aming other
a violent time volvulus that was scary close to going very wrong.
So once more or less innocent time truancy, early derail and end out of that cost too much when it is now very distant to have to admit it was all down in a play, invented by a schoolboy who would not let himself
regime by other.
So after truant me through 6th
and 7 grade
, I walked out of school with a diploma that said: "Sven Erik's abilities are good, but because his interest is not overwhelming, he achieves not high performance.
Easy way to get wrapped up that you actually did not show up for classes and achieved nothing.
But then you can think about what the outcome was and how life had turned out if teachers and school authorities had listened to what the young students wanted.
For my part, it had probably meant 9 or 10 years of schooling, perhaps more if success had entertained and created even more diligence, in what one can only imagine the potential for further education and perhaps different complex life.
Of friends at Lundtofte School is a somewhat nebulous thing, since I mentioned is not exactly overloaded school with my presence.
Of course it was them who also had to continue their schooling at Lundtofte, but there were also many new faces, we had to share life with.
The 'new' failing to find in my memoriser, but names like Elmer, Vivi and Bent "The bull" comes up, but it was surely from the parralelclass as far as I remember.
Elmer, I where together with after schooltime, when we drove our mopeds (pretty fast) together and sweet Vivi, who was Elmer girlfriend who lived in the town Brede.
Just to refresh moped time, so was my favorite brand Puch, which I had more of in the year 1964 to the summer of the 1968.
Why it was just Puch, I could not say, but many had this at the time and there were ample opportunities to conjure up a little with the machine so they were more than fast.
As I recall, my moped was called type MS-50 and was with a black plate frame, which is continually had been skewed by too much power.
But fun it was with the rush.
Another great thing that is still evident in my memory, is the ship sinking near Greenland on 30th
January 1959, where the ship "Hans Hedtoft" which was called the ship "which could not sink", sank in a hurricane-like storm after hitting an iceberg.
95 people died in the sinking which was called Denmark's "Titanic". A disaster which could be avoided with common sense, but the then Minister John Kjærbøl stressed the voyage through, despite many warnings from the Captains and other experts in Greenland seaway.
And afterwards there was no limit to how many people washed their hands and renounced responsibility for the accident.
That was a digression, but still an event that has been seared in the memory when the disaster is such a short time, was so extensive and came to mean a lot to so many in a long time.
1964 onwards ........
Do not misunderstand me, I have been fully satisfied with what I have achieved. Maybe not exactly in the form of high salaries and titles, but certainly with the way life has given me of experiences and choices from time to time. Options that have led me along with a lot of interesting and wonderfull people and given me many experiences and opportunities. It was always exciting with new faces in the circle because everyone, without exception, of course puts a little dash or exclamation in our lives.
A dash or a sign there on one or another way of significance in one acts later in life. Had I instead come to Trongårdsschool and perhaps followed a targeted training, with a title in the prize, I might come to sit in an office somewhere and made other choices instead and therefore lived a totally different life. B
ut this will be
unanswered for now.
nough about school for now. After a few weeks vacation, I got the offer to move to Haderslev i Jutland.
Fine, so come one out to see other things and people.
Got my first job as a working boy of a heatingpipe factory where I cleaned up and things for the adult employees.
Not exactly a dream job, so when suddenly there was a job at a BP petrolstation, I jumped in and worked there, as I recall for 3-4 months.
Had a fun and exciting time, which gave many new friends and ofcourse money.
HaHa, was incidentally also get a shorthaired armylook - so can you imagine a corn muffin at 120 pounds, with spiky hair and round cheeks.
I was getting bigger because I got more butter cream sauce and steak every day, which sat as 25-30 kg extra on me in the half year I lived in Futland.
It was close, that I should have a yellow armband because cheeks grew up in front of my eyes.
I also ran a time as "Little Helper" on "Tempo Bybud".
It was a Christian Nebel, who lived at Fjordagerring road.
He had a Volkswagen Pick up where he brought pigs from farmers and drove them to the slaughterhouse in Haderslev.
Actually really funny, but more than dirty.
HaHa, remember once in a piggery in the pigsty, where I had to keep a large pig's tail, and then I slipped and of course not let the pig go, but I was dragged around after the pig and rolled around on the floor and was greasy in from inside and out with pig shit
Christian shouted that I should drop it, but not if I would let the bastard win and finally stopped it and the adults came and took over.
Add a ride and then they called me for Latrinboy afterwards that day!
And so Christian would not want me inside the car, so I had to sit on the back with the other pigs.
Whew, it took several days before I stopped to smell of shit, no matter how many times I went to the bathroom and used a lot of soap.
While I was in Haderslev, I lived in a room out of Vandlingeroad where sweet Edith made me a lot of food and I get therefore quite a few kilograms placed on side in the time I lived there.
In Jutland, I get the first real experience on the job market. Then I went back home to Hjortekær and Mother's cupboard and childhood home, with my now over 120 kilos body looking forward to the beds were ready for me here.
Has always had my wonderful parents who always stood ready with support and assistance if necessary.
Went home for a while, until I heard there was missing working boys at Atlas refrigerator factory in Lundtofte.
Started up with a good mood, but working boys were treated like something you stepped in there, so the joy quickly disappeared and I stopped after a short time.
Who wanted to be yelled at and talked down to all day?
Not a defiant 14-year kid certainly!
But then my father should use a working boy in his company.
"J.W.Hansen & Son" in Store Regnegade 26 in Copenhagen.
It was a joiner and carpentry business with treefactory and sellingshop where I went and knocked about a year.
Taught many people to know and made many friends among even though I was only a kid.
The Copenhagen streets, came nicely into my memori when I drove that sway in the 3-wheeled carrier cycle with goods to customers.
HaHa, who was also a handcart, for the heavy orders.
Can remember one time I was not aware when the wheels ran down in the tram track and I just had to zap away, with line 1 in heels.
He was good negative, the tram driver, but he sent, however, the ticket seller in order to help me up the track so he could come over and I could get on my track in the city tour, ding-ding!
Were also often allowed to, just to slip over to the other side of the street to look into the "Jazzhouse Montmartre", where many famous names, practiced a day before it went away in the evening.
Got many good chats with the musicians who thought it was funny that such a young kid sat there with open mouth and polyps and listened to their passion Jazz.
From autumn 1965 onwards ........
But while I was out of a træfamilie where opportunities for a future was obvious, was my interest in mechanics the strongest.
So after a year in the "tree", I went a day around Kgs.Lyngby and sought apprenticeship in the various garages in the city.
And suddenly I ended up doing "Lyngby Engine & Mechanical workshop" on 80 Main Street, where I just dumped into the beer drinking team of mechanics and guests.
Among them was the foreman, who sent me over to Carl F. Jensen who was boss and owner of the company.
He called the foreman, Leif Christensen - "Letter" among beerfriends - who he asked when I could start.
Not so much nonsense, there was a job as a working boy from Monday morning and if it went well after some months, it could turn into an apprenticeship in the workshop.
was exactly what I wanted and so the track was chalked up to me one time.
As a journeyman in the workshop was only the foreman.
But we were 5-6 apprentices who helped each other learning.
As the youngest apprentice stood on oil changes and service all day long, and cleanup and city tours in search of food and of course the many beers were drunk at the workshop by the foreman and friends.
There was also another workshop on 82 Buddingevej, where major repairs, such as engine refurbishment and gearboxes and trucks were referred.
Here was Leif Christensen's father Henry Foreman.
With him went eldest apprentice Jens Holm and so we had other changing up there to learn "real" mechanics.
As I grew older apprentice, I went for long periods of Buddingevej and learned many things, like you got sucked a little lesson on adjoining workshop, Kofoed's Auto Electric.
It was a really good time here.
The salary was in itself limits in shopping, so I had to say nothank to my bosses offer, to buy an almost running Nimbus for 25 Dkr.
Can remember the only thing it failed, was an imminent valve which had caused no problems for a star mechanic.
But it was the economy that said nothank you.
Today one can see that it was foolish to say no, but what should one do when the money was small?
Then a nifty idea that I would not borrow money, but later in life I had since rectified the error.
It was not the whole big world, you could buy for the apprenticeship wage.
First year I got 39 Dkr - a week and then rise to princely Dkr 65 - the second year.
Can not remember what the third
year gave in the bag, but the last 4 months gave the half salery of a trained mechanic, as I recall.
At any rate, it was certainly something around Dkr 400, - per week, so there was to afford it all at the time.
It was also mid-sixties I got my first moped.
A brand new black Puch MS50 for the princely sum of Dkr 1295 in cash.
But it was only the start of a series of very different kinds, which broadly all ran died of uncontrolled tuning, which now belonged to, with subsequent fines and scolding of various police officers.
It was also of little gravel drive in the railway cutting, along the highway in Lundtofte.
It also developed for motorcycles, and not least, the Pastors Sson Poul-Erik played a role, with his double stamped Puch 250cc and his BSA Empire Star also acted in the same lane pit
Of teach-mates I can besides Jens Holm, remember Jan Martin Sørensen (called Magnus), Leif "Lifts" Petersen (called "lifte" because he always talked about a wagonlift at the workshop), Torben "Daffy", Hasse, Eric Walker Saxling, Lars Borg who
after training would be a police officer and Ole Olsen, who had been trained and then went to Cyprus as a soldier and a couple of faces that can not really find the name in time of writing, but maybe they show up later.
But here was a fine unity and everybody helped each other with everything, so we each got a lot in pack for the further life in the industry.
After 4 years and 4 months was the journeyman's test in the workshop.
The sample had a theory about an hour, along with a "spectacle master" who also afterwards gave a mechanical task to perform, on a random car that was in the workshop.
Everything went quite well and apprenticeship as a skilled Auto Mechanic to me.
But now was the time you schould then learn properly afterwords.
Then it was the spring of 1970 .........
Also got some good friends the times I was at the Technical School and here I remember especially Dan Heising and his fiancee Birgit, whom I had many wonderful hours together, either at my house or in Copenhagen at Løgstørstreet where Dan lived.
At this point I had already had the motorcycle for a few years.
The first was a Yamaha 250ér there who never got the real registration but homemade, with a 7-figure.
On this I suffered through the landscape, along with my superfriend Mikkel Bo and his lovely fiance Sussanne.
Mikkel and Sussanne had a Triumph 650cc, which they unfortunately crashed on a day we were on our way home to see Ålholm Car Museum and an asholes in a car squeezed them into a field during an overhaul.
Mikkel did well but Sussanne got some severe injuries to one leg.
Later, my Yamaha replaced with a brand new 750cc Norton Atlas, which were often run a little exuberant on the roads then.
Getting around in Copenhagen, with some guys in the Vesterbro City where evenings were used to driving around the streets where it could now do the most noise.
Nothing was furious popular there, but never mind, we enjoyed ourselves tremendously with various street racing and celebrations where they now were.
There were several motorcycle groups, then in Copenhagen, without however went one another in the borders.
I rode with some guys who lived in a small cafeteria in the middle on Vesterbrogade, where we had our "raids" around the city.
Not infrequently, we visited the contemporary "The Wild Angels" for the most part kept at a cafeteria, on Vesterbrogade up at City Hall, and there were many trips to and around a cafeteria at Nærum Mainstreet until there were closed to motorcycle driving on the street.
There had simply been too many noise complaints from residents.
Not to understand, because there went easy 5-10 minutes between each little race down or up Nærum Mainstreet, so what they claimed?
Dating back to the mid sixties when I drove a moped and later Norton Atlas and up to 1967-70, I remember also one of my close friends Kenneth Piil who lived in Lyngby. We were much together, especially in Hvidovre with his sweet girlfriend Irene unless the highways called us. He had a Yamaha YDS-3 250-cc. We shared many hours on the road where it was probably closest to come first, no matter where it was. I also had a Yamaha of the same kind in a short time but it was later Norton Atlas for me. Can also remember others of my good friends then, Sören Grasto from Holte, who also drove Yamaha YDS-3 then. We three shared many hours and experiences to build on in life.
Of course many names pop up from time lately in the 19-sixties where i tall went quickly in many ways. It was not least Kenneth Piil , Sören Grasto, Ole Bülow, Jan "Lauer" and Bente, Dion from Vangede, Steinar Thomassen, Steen "Stonie", Ole "Little Brother" from Hjortekær and many more who each and one put curls in the everyday life so time certainly not stood still too long time.
My first Harley-Davidsen.........
It was in autumn 1969 I bought my first Harley-Davidson, from a schoolteacher in Svogerslev, near Roskilde.
The price was as high as Dkr 3600 - approved and registered in my name.
It was a totally renovated very nice 750cc WLC in millitarycolors. However, I quickly got it "peeled" and rebuilt into what was called a chopper back then, with obvious exhaust and whatever else was daring at the time.
I drove around back then a lot together with a second Harleydriver named Per and he was from Allerød.
We had a lot of really good hours together and enjoyed life on the road.
Same Per, I have known many years and now he and his sweet wife Bente lives in Hundested where they have settled.
Their 2 super boys named Sune and Lasse are always nearby.
My first job as a skilled mechanic was at a workshop in the Morris Birkerød where I was for a while. Then I was on the guest appearance at an plate smith in Allerød, where also my buddy Per worked. I
screwed on cars some time, until there came a job up in "Danish Bilgasservice" in Copenhagen, where I mounted gas driveinstallations in cars with petrol, there was an alternative to diesel cars.
Something that was popular in American cars because bilgas was cheap as diesel.
Here I worked until I was sitting up on Bülow's Barracks in Fredericia, for the purpose of performing my military service in the Army Materielcommando.
From November 1970 onwards ......
It was the 3-month boot camp and then 3-month field treatment at the Sergeant School, whether one wanted it or not.
Good negative at first because it was forced, but it soon developed into a really good camaraderie and great respect both ways with "Scarface", our Mastersergeant Tommy Hansen, and our First Lieutenant, however, I can not remember the name but he was there
now only rarely.
There was a strong friendship in the Sergeant School, and not least i remember Bent Haureholm Nielsen from Copenhagen We often together, even after the soldiers time.
After the field-related part, we came to Copenhagen at Artillery Road Barracks, to review the workmanlike part to sergeant training.
Also a fine time here, though it surely was almost comparable to a rest home, upstairs at the time in Bülows Barracks.
It was so again on Artillerivej, we had our appointment in a somewhat formal relationship, which it now belongs to within the Royal Danish Army.
Then there was the choice of place of employment as a Sergeant.
Here were all broadly respected what new barracks concerned and I was lucky to get Farum Barracks.
Here I was more lucky when I got the blacksmith workshop in building 19 as "my" place.
I had a First Lieutenant - Leif Johanssen - as immediate boss, but it was now rare he was there, so I headed broadly the workshop itself.
But it was not that great because there besides myself, only was one civilian employed blacksmith, Egon Gildberg (read: furious clever), and 2 privates named Kjeld Hansen and Preben Reib.
All talented and pleasant people who quite clearly helped that I got a really good time in the Army.
I had a Colleague Sergeant at Garrison Workshop, whomed my supreme commander, Captain Runefeldt, often used as a fine example of styled uniform and polished boots when I was summoned to talk about my dress, or rather my pretty relaxed attitude to the same.
But now there was no uniform requirement in the workshop, so I was allowed to continue to hide me in a blue civilian work overalls and clogs, only if I would "sign" clearly with that I was a Sergeant, which had been complained about some not
could see I was.
OK - I took a piece of wood and put 3 polished brass wire bent at an angle and hung it on one shirt pocket button and then I rushed down to the office to show it to the Captain.
I think that Captain Runefeldt sat and just looked at me for a minute and then he shook his head and waved me off.
I probably just there has been abandoned in Military proper context of his world.
But then I could live even more in my own world, which certainly was not guided by Military correctness and its implications.
My life was lost for motorcycles and here specifically for Harley-Davidson, which after all came into my world in 1969 with the WLC, I bought from the schoolteacher in Svogerslev, Roskilde.
Fun bike, I also drove on, when I in 1971 start coming in Holte, specifically by Vejlelake with a team of motorcycle roots who lived there.
I was still serving as Sergeant at Farum Barracks at the time.
Currently Vejlelake was full of life, shared with the many who came here.
Thinking just of names that popped up: Svendsen, Big Jørgen, Finn, Kjeld "Wild", his sister Kirsten, her fiance "Rise", Ole Bülow, Bent "Laban", Volvo Bent, Britta, Jon, Hans and Nille who owned the kiosk, Pernille, Erik Saxling (my learning buddy that attracted me to Vejlesø), Vibeke,
Marianne, Kurt, Kim, Britta and her fiance Kim and 2 lovely girls, Fie and Dorthe, who in fine style set color to the days at the lake with their always super mood and ideas as many others and not least
Knut Langmack also called "Walnut", which I have shared so many experiences with since in the Harley world.
Remember also Sweet Kirsten and "Rise" get married and also emigrated to the Faroe Islands for a while until the homeland called again.
It was a very special world her in the space of the Boatrental by Vejlelake in Holte, as Hans and Nille owned.
Almost every day I met friends here and had fun together and a lot of "subterfuge" went away, if not the weekend was on beer and fun, whatever it often did.
He, I remember when we go to fried bacon and cabbage in large quantities, as Kurt's mother Sonja offered occasionally at home with her on Sofieroad.
During the same period I also bought a Triumph Bonneville by Kjeld "Wild", which I drove some time, until it was stolen in front of Gentofte Cinema, one evening we were inside watching movies.
Then I bought a used Norton Atlas in Gladsaxe at one or another dealer whome do not remember the name.
It was now quickly sold again as I could make good money on it.
It was also Knut "Walnut" and I, each bought a new Harley-Davidson "Sportster" in spring 72, at "Robber" Axels shop in Søborg.
It was so fortunate that Knut had a student loan which I quite comfortably able to borrow a little, to put on the new Sportster.
I got mine already d. 17.marts and puffed out into the world, proud as a Pope - whose else now come proud.
Knut got his Sportster a little later and think just that we were "King's of the highwais and secondary roads"?
It now held only till 17 April, where I'm heading to Farum Barracks in the morning, got blocked my way by a dolt who braked his car up straight across into my lane, causing an unnaturally quick stop in the process of the
Harley, leading to a 35-meter flight for me, followed by numerous fractures, and a hole in the skull and brain-(jojo, I had a pity one) bleeding and stay in intensive care for 7 days of unconsciousness and the necessary subsequent tinkering and recreation in a good 3 months
I must have looked exciting, because I've later been told that since the entire buddy team from Vejlesø in Holte came to visit, got only one (1) allowed to enter and then afterwards tell the others how things were with me
Has never come to remember the accident itself or something from the unconscious week at Gentofte Hospital, but it is perhaps just as well because accidents rarely well is a distinct beautiful sight.
Incidentally, it took about the same time to rebuilt the Sportster, as it is subterfuge tremendously with Harley parts at the time.
In fact it cost Dkr 24.50 more to get the bike repaired after the accident than I had given to it as new, Dkr 24,732, - who was a tidy sum of money for an MC at the time when you consider that my
New Norton Atlas only 3-and a half year before, cost only Dkr. 12,123 .-
But going it came.
And actually it was on it, I rolled out of the gate on the last day when I left the millitary forces in late July 72nd, o
ut in the real world, instead of the protected service in the Armed Forces to Farum Barracks.
Continuing in the "English 2"