Hendrik Wüst's Journey to Becoming Who He Is - The individual who aspired to become the pope
Hendrik Wüst chuckles, "However, I must think about how I'll celebrate my fifty-year mark. Customarily, round birthdays aren't significant to me. But fifty feels personal. My mom solely reached fifty-three before cancer claimed her life a few days later. That inspires a sense of humbleness in me when I observe this number."
In April 1995, during his senior year of high school and living with his parents in Rhede, Münsterland, Hendrik lost his mom, Anneliese Wüst. His two elder sisters, aged nine and ten years older than him, had already initiated independent lives at the period. "My mother's demise was tragic. It marked a turning point in my life," he shares. "My sister later informed me that I'd become serious overnight - without my realizing it."
This memory still inflicts painful emotions. "It was brutal to watch my mother succumb to cancer, and eventually not desire to live. It was a cruel ordeal for our family," he adds, pausing. "It's heart-wrenching when you observe a cherished one reject living."
Did your mom have a prolonged illness? "It spanned many months. She likely had cancer for years, although the tumor was identified too late. At first, she fought, but eventually, she surrendered. I couldn't endure that."
Hendrik pursued a legal profession, acted as a regional councilmember for the CDU from 1994, became president of the Junge Union Nordrhein-Westfalen in 2000, and joined his party's federal board in 2002. Having finished his legal clerkship, he was licensed to practice law, worked at a consultancy firm till 2005, and then became a formal politician. His initial significant role in the CDU: Secretary General of the CDU in North Rhine-Westphalia for four years commencing in 2006. In 2010, he left, and at age 35, he became Head of the NRW newspaper publishers' association.
Shortly post this career transition, Franz Josef Wüst passed away at seventy-two. Though fit, he succumbed to a sudden fate. "My dad's death signified another blow. I felt overwhelmed." During retirement week, he met his dad for a drink, contrasting his previous position of Secretary General.
"He was rattled, eager to check on me. I visited his residence and conversed with him. That very night, he phoned my sister revealing, 'The boy's doing not too shabby. He didn't wake up next day.' Had I still been Secretary General, we'd never had that final conversation. Its occurrence straightened what's important in my life," he reflects.
After his Dad's (Hendrik's middle name is Josef like him) passing, Henry reformed his priorities. "My parents' home was vacant. I considered residing there while contemplating the house's demolition. I desired a place to establish roots, countering day-to-day work."
He tore down his parents' 1960s-era residence. "The foundation conditions were suspect, it didn't meet contemporary standards, and the cellar was damp. The roof was leaking. There was considerable improvement potential. I debated it for two-and-a-half years, subsequently constructed a new abode - at the original address where my parents and we three siblings formerly resided."
He erected this home before meeting his wife, Katharina Wüst (37), subsequently Mother of Philippa (born 2021). "Customarily, couples build houses together. However, in that particular moment, it was crucial for me to affirm, 'I'm establishing roots here, and it's beneficial for me.' It was a sentimental choice, economic sense-making was absent. My wife Katharina feels as at home as I do here, and that brings me immense happiness."
He grins, "Observing our daughter frolicking in our garden, where I previously played soccer as a child, offers me profound inner placidity. Additionally, a spiritual link to my parents."
This guy and his sisters had a cool upbringing in the countryside. They had a teeny forest behind their house and that's where his little girl plays now; Hendrik Wüst says that. As a kid, he dreamt of becoming a baker, a train driver, and even the Pope, but his mom, who ran a butcher shop with their parents, convinced him otherwise. She pointed out that being a baker meant getting up early and he didn't like that, train journeys prevented him from being home, and as for the Pope, she told him he wouldn't think girls were stupid one day. She was spot-on with her predictions.
Wüst adds that his parents wanted their kids to be self-reliant and to take responsibility. Especially in the post-war era when any chance for learning was grasped with both hands. "If you can do something, you got something, and you're something." He went to school, and he wasn't one of the top-notchers. His sisters, though, absolute aces. He says his parents couldn't believe their boy struggled to learn like their daughters. Things got tense at home with occasional spankings using a wooden spoon, but these were more of a deterrent than actual punishment.
He had a warning letter once at school. His promotion was at risk. His mom found it in the mail. She urged him to shape up. But she asked him not to tell his dad, or else he'd worry unnecessarily. A while later, his dad found the letter in a drawer. "Son, did you see that? Don't tell mom, she'll just get upset again," he yelled.
His relationship with his sisters was amazing. When he was a toddler, they shielded and pampered him. They were like his only child. Thanks to the age gap, there was no rivalry between them. They're as tight as ever. They joined in the Easter celebration a couple of weeks ago when he celebrated his kid's birthday.
He's been married to a lawyer since September 2019. They bumped into each other in a bar in Düsseldorf. She recognized him from afar and approached him. They realized they're both from Rhede, and they lived in houses just a few streets apart. His future father-in-law was one of his mentors during his legal apprenticeship. There was a photo of his future wife on his desk, but he had no idea then that she'd be his wife. They have an apartment in Düsseldorf (for their work) and their home in Münsterland.
He believes in coincidences and thinks the meeting with Katharina was one. You gotta make something of it. They've known his in-laws for longer than his present wife, and they're awesome. They adore each other and work well with his wife and daughter.
Mornings are his thing, along with his daughter. For his job, he'd get his child up, have breakfast together, and they'd chat about her outfit choices for the day. It's like a magic morning session that fills up the happiness tank for the entire day. In the evenings, she's usually asleep when he gets back home.
About whether baby plans are complete, he and his wife are tight-lipped. But they admire families with many kids and don't want to disclose details.
Losing his parents at a young age could've made him a better dad and partner. He often thinks about his parents and wishes they could see his cute daughter. She's more spirited than he was in his boyhood days. He tries not to procrastinate and enjoys some quality times with his wife and child. They fill their free hours with happy memories.
He's not sure about his political future. No idea what's in store after the Prime Minister's job. Let it unfold.
Wüst spends his mornings with his little daughter. He enjoys it. They have breakfast together and chatter about her day, including her outfit preferences. The mood is always cheerful. When he comes back in the evenings, she's usually dozing off.
Are their family plans complete? He and his wife are mum on the subject, fascinated by the idea of having lots of siblings, but they won't spill.
He's convinced that his parents' passing made him a better dad and husband. He misses them and would love to see his daughter now. She's more spirited than he was as a kid. He doesn't postpone things and cherishes moments with his wife, like taking dinner out or enjoying a fun evening together. They make sure to create happy memories in their spare time.
Are there any politicians you admire? Yes, he says. "My dad was a big fan of Franz Josef Strauß and Helmut Kohl. I started out liking Björn Engholm as a different option. Kohl was too tall and heavy for me. However, after the fall of the Berlin Wall and reunification, I did grow to like Helmut Kohl. When I was a young politician, I got to meet him twice, and both times, he told me to eat more, logically."
People may know that Hendrik Wüst enjoys eating and preparing food, as it's obvious from his mother's impact on him. "His mother had a handwritten cookbook and he sometimes prepares dishes from it. Not fancy, just everyday dishes. Like beef or chicken soup, goulash. The simple, good food type."
Why did your mom end up spending a year in a convent? "When she was fourteen, she had a crush on a Protestant refugee boy. At that time in the staunchly Catholic Münsterland area in the mid-1950s, Protestantism was not well received. His grandmother was especially against it, and so they sent his mother to the nuns for a year. His mother frequently recalled it as the worst year of her life." Not long after that, his mother met his father, who despite being Catholic and poor, was the most important thing for her. "They got married because he was Catholic. Money didn't matter."
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Source: symclub.org
