CH A P T E R 3 Die Einwanderung—The Immigration For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills. (Deuteronomy 8:7) O h how my mother cried on that day. “Will we see you again?” Her red, tear-laden eyes pleaded with mine. “Ja,” I smiled, “for sure; travel is easy now.” And so I set out for Bremen. Here I smelled the ocean for the first time, its briny, moist fingers reached out to my land-locked nostrils. The tall cathedral spires greeted me and the bells called to my subconscious as the faithful walked to worship. There were others in the group. Many of the Turnvereins were set to travel to America. The gymnasts, the health enthusiasts, and the rebels all sought a new beginning. I didn’t know which group I fit into; perhaps some combination of all of those things. For some reason, I was driven to immigrate, I was pulled by some unseen force to travel to a new land. My goals were hard to define, I just knew my future was in America. Perhaps some of the reason for my immigration went back to Adolf. He did much to persuade me to leave for America, “Au-