My mother used to tell me such stories about her father. When she was a girl living in Germany during WWII, she thought her father was eccentric. He would NEVER say heil hitler. He would bring home pitiful people for a meal and some stayed a night. My mother never knew the names of any of those people. Her mother would cry because there wasn't enough food for her own family, and her husband was bringing home more mouths to feed.
Three times my Opa was arrested. The final time he was accused of taking pictures of an airplane landing strip. Mom thought for certain she would never again see her father, but the man who claimed he'd witnessed the photography didn't appear for the trial. When my mother was seventeen, she and her best friend were forced to work in a government factory in a city four miles from Bruchköbel. She was supposed to drill three holes in a piece of metal and put it in a box. She always said she did her part to help the Americans and British, because she broke drill bits every day and the supervisor yelled at her. One day when Allied forces bombed this factory, Opa drove to the city in his three-wheeled motorcycle, gathered his daughter and her friend, Herta, and drove them home! The factory was destroyed and Mom didn't have to work there or any other place for the government. When the war ended and the American soldiers arrived, Opa was at the city entrance waving saying "Hall-o Americans, Velcome." Opa contracted tuburculosis in jail and died before I was born. One of the greatest compliments my mother used to give me was "You always stick up for the underdog, just like your Opa. You're so much like him."
Three times my Opa was arrested. The final time he was accused of taking pictures of an airplane landing strip. Mom thought for certain she would never again see her father, but the man who claimed he'd witnessed the photography didn't appear for the trial. When my mother was seventeen, she and her best friend were forced to work in a government factory in a city four miles from Bruchköbel. She was supposed to drill three holes in a piece of metal and put it in a box. She always said she did her part to help the Americans and British, because she broke drill bits every day and the supervisor yelled at her. One day when Allied forces bombed this factory, Opa drove to the city in his three-wheeled motorcycle, gathered his daughter and her friend, Herta, and drove them home! The factory was destroyed and Mom didn't have to work there or any other place for the government. When the war ended and the American soldiers arrived, Opa was at the city entrance waving saying "Hall-o Americans, Velcome." Opa contracted tuburculosis in jail and died before I was born. One of the greatest compliments my mother used to give me was "You always stick up for the underdog, just like your Opa. You're so much like him."
My mother used to tell me such stories about her father. When she was a girl living in Germany during WWII, she thought her father was eccentric. He would NEVER say heil hitler. He would bring home pitiful people for a meal and some stayed a night. My mother never knew the names of any of those people. Her mother would cry because there wasn't enough food for her own family, and her husband was bringing home more mouths to feed.
Three times my Opa was arrested. The final time he was accused of taking pictures of an airplane landing strip. Mom thought for certain she would never again see her father, but the man who claimed he'd witnessed the photography didn't appear for the trial. When my mother was seventeen, she and her best friend were forced to work in a government factory in a city four miles from Bruchköbel. She was supposed to drill three holes in a piece of metal and put it in a box. She always said she did her part to help the Americans and British, because she broke drill bits every day and the supervisor yelled at her. One day when Allied forces bombed this factory, Opa drove to the city in his three-wheeled motorcycle, gathered his daughter and her friend, Herta, and drove them home! The factory was destroyed and Mom didn't have to work there or any other place for the government. When the war ended and the American soldiers arrived, Opa was at the city entrance waving saying "Hall-o Americans, Velcome." Opa contracted tuburculosis in jail and died before I was born. One of the greatest compliments my mother used to give me was "You always stick up for the underdog, just like your Opa. You're so much like him."
Three times my Opa was arrested. The final time he was accused of taking pictures of an airplane landing strip. Mom thought for certain she would never again see her father, but the man who claimed he'd witnessed the photography didn't appear for the trial. When my mother was seventeen, she and her best friend were forced to work in a government factory in a city four miles from Bruchköbel. She was supposed to drill three holes in a piece of metal and put it in a box. She always said she did her part to help the Americans and British, because she broke drill bits every day and the supervisor yelled at her. One day when Allied forces bombed this factory, Opa drove to the city in his three-wheeled motorcycle, gathered his daughter and her friend, Herta, and drove them home! The factory was destroyed and Mom didn't have to work there or any other place for the government. When the war ended and the American soldiers arrived, Opa was at the city entrance waving saying "Hall-o Americans, Velcome." Opa contracted tuburculosis in jail and died before I was born. One of the greatest compliments my mother used to give me was "You always stick up for the underdog, just like your Opa. You're so much like him."
