Through it all, they're in love

Jill Brackett

(Updated: Thursday, October 02, 2008, 6:52 PM)

Tucked up an uneven gravel road in a small mobile home brimming with souvenirs of world travel is a couple whose 60 years together could fill the pages of history books. They are a living link to the past. At 80 they remember clearly growing up in Germany during Hitler's regime. They remember the bombing of Dresden, food coupons worth little when there was no food for sale, and their family and country split in two by a wall that was more than a physical divide.

World War II Germany

The two met as youngsters, Horst Pokorra asking young Kitty to join him on a Sunday walk. Years later, however, the couple had barely weathered the war. Horst had been captured by the British and Kitty was stuck across the border in East Germany.

Kitty, however, determined enough was enough and braved the Russian occupation guards to cross over to West Germany where Horst was one of the only people she knew.

With no papers to make her stay legal and not yet 21 (the permissible age to marry in Germany at that time), Kitty had few options. She moved in with Horst, who, at war's end had begun working as a mechanic for the British. Kitty had little to contribute to the meager household and no legitimate identity. At 19, the couple had few options until a priest, who got wind they were living together, began to fret. He devised a plan to get Kitty the necessary papers and perform a short ceremony to marry the two on Sept. 25, 1948.

America

By 1962 the couple had two young sons and were living in a small apartment in Germany with Horst working for a large construction company. Post-war Germany, however, still bore the heavy imprint of the years past with destroyed infrastructure and a struggling economy.

That year, afraid the Cuban missile crisis meant an outbreak of another world war, Horst's aunt, Trudel Clark of Oakhurst, sent a letter telling the family she wanted to bring them to Yosemite. She had sent the Pokorras photos of the park and the two young boys thought a move to America would be a good plan. Horst and Kitty were up for the adventure.

Boarding a Greyhound bus once they arrived in New York with only $24 and a few belongings (everything else was given to family left in East Germany), the Pokorras headed west, a part of a long history of American immigration.

Along the way at bus stops, drivers would tell diner owners about the poor German family on the bus, inevitably producing free coffee for the bunch. Only $4 was spent on the rest of the four-day trip's meals of donuts and oranges.

Arriving in Sacramento to be reunited with Aunt Trudel, the gang bounded off the bus in heavy German parkas, much too warm for March weather in California.

"We never wore those parkas again," mused Kitty.

The couple eventually settled in Oakhurst, running the Exxon station and later the Gulf station where Jack in the Box now stands.

But by age 49, Horst was ready to retire and the couple's smart financial planning paid off. Advised when they entered the U.S. not to acquire debt at the risk of deportation, the Pokorras lived carefully within their means, often sacrificing.

Stopping work didn't mean stopping, however. Horst still volunteered for Sierra Ambulance and the fire department. He also helped to produce the first yearbook for Yosemite High School (he was the only one around with a darkroom and knowledge of photography to go with it). The Pokorras have also traveled to local schools to talk about World War II and their immigration story.

Now at 60 years

For the two, life today is simple. Horst is still an avid learner, a sharp photographer, computer whiz and musician (he plays his harmonica and concertina by ear, 'Oh When the Saints Go Marching' is a big hit). Kitty enjoys feeding "her" deer and birds and making potato salad that neighbors claim is the best west of the Mississippi (Horst claims it's the best west of the Rhine).

As for marriage advice -- what they say has kept them together through wars, immigration and meager finances -- Horst gives the credit to Kitty.

"The key is to find a good wife," he said. "Kitty is adaptive. She had it harder than me, having to learn English and to drive, but she was always up for anything."

Kitty agrees, it was largely her patience, "the patience of a saint," she laughed, that kept the family together.

The other bit of advice -- what the couple say is most important for anyone -- live within your means.

It's about appreciating what you have. And they clearly take their own advice, appreciating one another.