Twenty-five
After his three-month recovery in Japan, Michael Peterson joined his wife, Patricia, in the Frankfurt region of Germany, where she was teaching elementary school at the Rhein-Main Air Base. It was the early 1970s, and Patricia Peterson was happy to have Michael back by her side. She had missed her husband dearly, and was anxious to start a family. By the mid-1970s, Patricia and Michael had become the parents of two beautiful boys, Clayton and Todd.
All of them enjoyed the expatriate life, spending their time with the American military families on the base. For Patricia, working for the Department of Defense was a way of fulfilling her dream. She loved being an educator, and raising her children away from American materialism was an extra bonus. Michael was happy to be a part of the air force’s base as well. He spent his time writing, jogging, working out at the gym, and he socialized with a small group of Patricia’s friends.
Patricia’s best friend was Elizabeth McKee, a levelheaded young woman who had expatriated herself from America in the late 1960s. Also a schoolteacher at the Rhein-Main Air Base, Elizabeth was happier living overseas. Liz was very fluent in German and French, she enjoyed traveling around Europe, and she was good at teaching. Children of military families on the base flocked to her.
Elizabeth had many friends, and as time passed, she became extremely close with both Michael and Patricia Peterson. In many ways, they had become like family. In fact, Michael and Patricia became such close companions, they even talked Liz into spending a summer with them in Durham one year. It was back in the late ‘70s, the end of the hippie era, that Liz agreed to stay with Patricia and Mike in the Durham home they still owned. The three of them became very close during that summer in North Carolina, especially after Liz had some kind of abrasion surgery done to her skin at the Duke University Medical Center. Liz needed special care, and the Petersons became a great source of love and support for her.
Back in Germany, in the early 1980s, Elizabeth met Captain George Ratliff at a party held at the Air Force Officers’ Club. If ever there was love at first sight, the two of them experienced it. George and Liz fell head over heels. An air force navigator who was almost ten years her junior, George Ratliff had come from a small Texas town. George was already married and divorced from his Texas A&M sweetheart, and his air force friends recalled how elated George was when he first met Liz. Even though they came from different backgrounds—she was a New England girl with a love of classical music, he was a Texas cowboy who drank beer—the two of them became inseparable.
On their wedding day in early 1981, Liz and George glowed. They had chosen to have a small civil ceremony at the Gothic-gabled Roemer City Hall, a medieval building that suited their storybook romance. Elizabeth’s matron of honor was Patricia Peterson. George’s best man was fellow air force navigator Randy Durham. Elizabeth wore a simple white dress with a garland of roses in her hair; George wore his military whites. The pair looked stunning, and shared vows that people believed could never be broken.
Missing from the occasion was their friend, Michael Peterson. He was the only person who avoided the reception, which was held in a small town called Klein-Gerau. Everyone there was absolutely delighted on that occasion. One of Elizabeth’s sisters had flown over from New England, as had some of George’s family, and Elizabeth and George were the two happiest people on earth. After a romantic honeymoon spent in a castle hideaway, the couple moved into an exquisite cottage in Klein-Gerau. They enjoyed the peace of living in a country setting, not far from the air force base, and it came as a big surprise when Elizabeth got pregnant right away. Shortly before Christmas of that same year, she would give birth to their first daughter, Margaret, a healthy, happy girl. They nicknamed her Gigi.
When Margaret was born, Patricia Peterson was one of the friends who helped out at the hospital in Wiesbaden. People recalled that Elizabeth couldn’t believe how blessed she was at the time. To Elizabeth, it was a miracle that she’d found such a brave young man who adored her, that she was actually starting a family at her age, in her late thirties. And George was equally ecstatic. A quiet and shy type, he had always dreamed of having a true love with someone, of sharing a lifetime together.
A navigator on C-130 airplanes, large aircrafts, the size of 737 commercial jets, George Ratliff was a highly regarded officer in the U.S. Air Force who frequently spent long stretches away from his home. His main duty was to deliver troops and supplies along the Berlin corridor, but he was also called upon for certain top secret missions. George never discussed his military service, not even with his wife, and Liz understood that. There were certain things that Liz didn’t need to know about. Her main concern was that her husband remained safe. She trusted that the officers in George’s squadron were all top-notch, but she worried about his dangerous missions.
George and Liz Ratliff were living in the Cold War era, which meant George and his fellow air force officers were flying over Communist territory. His squadron supplied “special support” for the U.S. military, and often their missions were veiled in code, deemed “highly sensitive.” For the most part, Liz was content to keep uninformed about the secret military aspects of her husband’s life. She really only wanted to know George as a loving husband and devoted father. Liz appreciated her time together with George. The two shared a unique bond, a rare connection that many people never find. The two of them would communicate without talking, and whenever he was home, George and Liz enjoyed happy times. Still crazy in love with each other, the two would soon learn that Liz was pregnant again. The news came very quickly, and George and Liz were elated to add Martha into their lives, just a little over a year after Margaret was born.
In his four years of service in Germany, George had become close with Major Bruce Berner, a senior flight officer who often flew back and forth between Frankfurt and Berlin. Flying special missions together along the three Berlin corridors of East and West Germany, the two men became good friends.
“It was always a real pleasure to listen to George direct a mission,” Major Berner would recall. “There was a sensitive navigational mission that he was dealing with all the time, which was serious business. He was actually standing up for most of the flight, navigating, directing the flight, directing every little turn that we made. And George would do it with a smile, so he was a really pleasant guy to be in that position, to essentially lead the crew.”
At the same time that George and Bruce were getting to know each other, the two officers’ wives, Elizabeth Ratliff and Amybeth Berner, also began developing a tight friendship. Even though Liz was much older, Amybeth being in her twenties, both women had been raised in New England, and both women preferred European ways. As they shared their philosophies and perspectives, Liz and Amybeth found they had so much in common, Liz became like Amybeth’s big sister. Liz was a role model for Amybeth, who felt hopeful that she too could be such a patient mom, such a loving spirit, if and when she might have her own child.
And Liz had her fun side. She liked to sip champagne with strawberries, she liked to shop in big cities, and she enjoyed a five-star restaurant now and then. It was through Liz that Amybeth would learn more about the finer things in life. From Wedgwood china to how to arrange place settings, from fine wines to Laura Ashley prints—Liz knew about these kind of things. And Amybeth loved learning about the beauty of a particular lace pattern or the simplicity of a certain wildflower arrangement.
A newlywed who was trying to start a family of her own, Amybeth enjoyed spending time at home with Liz and her girls, admiring all the special care Liz took with her daughters, Margaret and Martha. Liz was musically inclined, so she would sing to the girls, she would play the piano and the guitar. Liz went out of her way to make things special for the girls, and Amybeth felt that being around Liz was an enchanted experience. She and Bruce lived in Graefenhausen, a town a few miles away, where most of the other American military officers were. She and her husband were neighbors to Michael and Patricia Peterson, so the whole group became very chummy. Over the months, and then the years, the Berners, the Petersons, and the Ratliffs got to know each other well. They socialized together on occasions, and traveled in groups to cities throughout Europe.
“Officers’ wives tend to live according to protocol,” Amybeth confided, “but the women in our squadron were very kind. Nobody had a snooty attitude, not in our squadron. In our small group, people were very personable, very caring. Maybe it was because it was Special Missions. Maybe because our husbands were gone a lot, and we needed each other.”