There is a photograph of my father and grandfather, taken on Sunday, Aug. 27, 1939, at a spot overlooking the Rhine above the Lorelei Rock, where the chasm of the river tightens and the quickened flow makes a murmuring sound, which has mystical resonance for the Germans.
My dad had emigrated to Canada in 1934. He was in Germany that summer visiting his parents for the first time in five years. His name was Hermann, but even his German friends called him Billy. My grandfather was Heinrich, but his Anglo-Irish wife called him Bobs. NY Times