We arose early and took a train at the Haupt Bahnhof at 9 o’clock. We rode through fertile country with many factories and arrived at Bischofwerda in time for dinner. Here we passed into Austria and had our traps examined by the custom house officers.

We reached Reichenberg in the afternoon at 2 o’clock and were met by Robert Fritsch. This is the city where your mama was born. It has 60,000 inhabitants and has large cloth factories, one of which was owned by Mama’s father (Ed. note: Anton Buder), and Robert told me again and again that if Anton had not sold out and gone to America, he would have become a multi millionaire like all others who were in the same business at his time.

He took us to a modern hotel, which is one of the prettiest hotels I have seen, with modern improvements, all art glass and bevel plates, decorations and finishings in L’Art Nouveau style.

We went to the Krenz Kirche, erected in 1695, which has a very fine altar with wood carving. In front of this altar, the Fritsch and the Buder parents were married some 60 years ago, and here we stood for a few moments and thought of all that has happened since and how, after all these years, Robert and your mama visited this spot to remember the past.

We passed through old street and look up the old Gymnasium building, which was sold to the city by the Grandmother and, wherein, are the old family papers regarding the history of Kinsky and Beyer families.

We took a ride out to Siebenhauser where the families of Reichenberg have gone for years past to enjoy their cup of coffee and to gossip and do handwork. The houses have grown and where, at Grandmother’s time, a small Forresters [sic] but was large enough for the guests, large buildings are now hardly big enough for the many who come out for an airing.

We took a look at the old house on the Friedlanderstr #24 which belonged to Mama’s grandfather and also at the old stadtmuehle, which was his old factory and, of course, we had to wind up with a wine cellar, Werner’s, where Grand- & Great Grand-father sat in their time and drank a glass of wine. We found the old gray haired business men sitting at their Stammtisch, resting from the day’s labor. We had to eat sausage fresh from the smokehouse, because R. is celebrated on account of its sausage factories.

And finally we wound up at the hotel and glad to get to bed.

Editor’s note: Stadtmuehle, roughly translated, means “city mill.” Stammtisch means “regular table.”