Remembering German Village

Walk the brick-paved streets of German Village, one of the capital city's most vital and historically prominent neighborhoods. Beginning as a haven for German settlers in the mid-1800s, the neighborhood, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, is renowned for its preserved architecture and its hearty citizenry, such as Max Visocnik, who gave us Max & Erma's in 1958, and the Schmidt family, proprietors of the famed Schmidt's Restaurant and Sausage Haus--a German Village institution for more than one hundred years. Join the German Village Society's Jody Graichen as she recounts the struggles of the German immigrants, the rise of the neighborhood and the efforts to preserve a Columbus jewel in this collection of columns previously published in ThisWeek Community Newspapers, with a foreword by Dr. Wayne P. Lawson, The Ohio State University professor and director emeritus of the Ohio Arts Council.

Explore the rich history and mysteries of this Preserve America Community through the eyes of the people who live there! German Village's iconic homes, bustling businesses and other beloved sites harbor fascinating stories. Did you know that German Village's Recreation Park, now gone, is thought to have had the first baseball concession stand? Or that the four-story Schwartz Castle was the site of two murders? Or that the popular restaurant Engine House No. 5 closed its doors after the mysterious disappearance of its owners in the Bermuda Triangle? Longtime resident and tour guide John M. Clark goes behind the bricks of more than seventy German Village properties to explore the places and people who made the Old South End into a Columbus treasure.

Explore the rich history and mysteries of this Preserve America Community through the eyes of the people who live there! German Village's iconic homes, bustling businesses and other beloved sites harbor fascinating stories. Did you know that German Village's Recreation Park, now gone, is thought to have had the first baseball concession stand? Or that the four-story Schwartz Castle was the site of two murders? Or that the popular restaurant Engine House No. 5 closed its doors after the mysterious disappearance of its owners in the Bermuda Triangle? Longtime resident and tour guide John M. Clark goes behind the bricks of more than seventy German Village properties to explore the places and people who made the Old South End into a Columbus treasure.

Mimi Schwartz’s father was born Jewish in a tiny German village thirty years before the advent of Hitler when, as he’d tell her, “We all got along.” In her original memoir, Good Neighbors, Bad Times, Schwartz explored how human decency fared among Christian and Jewish neighbors before, during, and after Nazi times. Ten years after its publication, a letter arrived from a man named Max Sayer in South Australia. Sayer, it turns out, grew up Catholic in the village during the Third Reich and in 1937 moved into an abandoned Jewish home five houses away from where the family of Schwartz’s father had lived for generations before fleeing to America a few months earlier. The two families had never met. Sayer wrote an unpublished memoir about his childhood memories and in Schwartz’s new edition, Good Neighbors, Bad Times Revisited, the two memoirs talk to each other. Weaving excerpts from Sayer’s memoir and from a yearlong correspondence with him into her book, Schwartz revisits village history from a new perspective, deepening our understanding of decency and demonization. Given the rise of xenophobia, white supremacy, and anti-Semitism in the world today, this exploration seems more urgent than ever.

German Columbus celebrates the lives and work of the German immigrants who made their homes and their livelihoods in a tight-knit, cohesive neighborhood in the Old South End of Columbus, Ohio. Natives of Germany arrived in the capital city as early as its founding in 1812, but it was only after 1830, when new transportation routes from the east facilitated travel, that a major wave of German immigration began. By the 1850s, the area just south of downtown Columbus had a distinct flavor, with school lessons and church services conducted entirely in German and with several newspapers printed in the German language to serve the community. Merchants, business owners, and brewers, the hard-working Germans were the largest immigrant group in the city, totaling a third of the population through the end of the 19th century. Later, a shift in public opinion against immigrants and anti-German sentiment arising from World War I resulted in a rapid assimilation of Germans into the general population. Today, some of the Old South End survives in historic areas such as the Brewery District and German Village.

The story of a Jew and a Christian unearthing the history of a small town in Germany and what happened there before, during and after the Holocaust. An example of a typical rural town, its denial of history for future generations and the fears and hatreds which survive to the present

“A vivid & sensitive portrait of a small, tradition-bound community coming to terms with modernity under the most adverse of conditions.” —Observer Review Many scholars have tried to assess Adolf Hitler’s influence on the German people, usually focusing on university towns and industrial communities, most of them predominately Protestant or religiously mixed. This work by Walter Rinderle and Bernard Norling, however, deals with the impact of the Nazis on Oberschopfheim, a small, rural, overwhelmingly Catholic village in Baden-Wuerttemberg in southwestern Germany. This incisively written book raises fundamental questions about the nature of the Third Reich. The authors portray the Nazi regime as considerably less “totalitarian” than is commonly assumed, hardly an exemplar of the efficiency for which Germany is known, and neither revered nor condemned by most of its inhabitants. The authors suggest that Oberschopfheim merely accepted Nazi rule with the same resignation with which so many ordinary people have regarded their governments throughout history. Based on village and county records and on the direct testimony of Oberschopfheimers, this book will interest anyone concerned with contemporary Germany as a growing economic power and will appeal to the descendants of German immigrants to the United States because of its depiction of several generations of life in a German village. “An excellent study. Describes in rich detail the political, economic, and social structures of a village in southwestern Germany from the turn of the century to the present.” —Publishers Weekly “A lively, informative treatise that puts a human face on history.” —South Bend Tribune “This very readable story emphasizes continuities within change in German historical development during the twentieth century.” —American Historical Review

The collected correspondence of the Western Reserve Academy alumni serving in World War II. In these letters, written mostly to the Academy's headmaster, the loneliness of war is described by men serving on the front lines and by those waiting anxiously at home in Hudson, Ohio.

In June 1944, after two wars with the Soviet Union, the Finnish region of Karelia was ceded to the Soviet Union. As a result, the Finnish population of Karelia, nearly 11% of the Finnish population, was moved across the new border. The war years, the loss of territory, the resettlement of the Karelian population, and the reparations that had to be paid to the Allied Forces, were experiences shared by most people living in Finland between 1939 and the late 1950s. Using a family's memoirs, the author shows how these traumatic events affected people in all spheres of their lives and also how they coped physically and emotionally.

Few would imagine that the land currently occupied by the Nature Conservancy's Cape May Migratory Bird Refuge, or "the Meadows, "? was once the picturesque Jersey Shore town of South Cape May. By the early twentieth century, a striking hotel and homes designed by renowned Victorian-era architects dotted the landscape. Residents and visitors alike spotted rumrunners racing across the beachfront during Prohibition and endured World War II with German submarines lurking just offshore. But by 1954, barely a trace of the town remained except for about twenty of the original houses, which were moved a mile away. Join one of the town's last residents, Joseph Burcher, as he chronicles life in South Cape May before the angry Atlantic swallowed this serene town.