40 thoughts on “You know Who Else we treated abominably during wartime even though they were good patriotic Americans?”
Schade says this anti-German sentiment extended to internment.
"Hans Kuhnwald, the concertmeister of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, was interned; the German language was forbidden; the German-American press was heavily censored; libraries had to pull German books off the shelves; German-American organizations were targeted,"
I'd bet that someone with a totally Hun name like "Drumpf" would either change it real quick or be in for a world of hurt.
My mother's family, who were tall blondes from Stockholm with thick accents when they bothered to speak, which they didn't much, being Swedish, had a last name that looked very German. During WWI, they got scared of being pegged as German and what might happen to them. So they changed the spelling of their last name, switching two vowels. The name no longer looks German, people started pronouncing it correctly and from what I'm told they were quite relieved.
Wow, there's probably a lot more of those stories around than we think. I knew the anti-German sentiment was there (my great disappointment was hearing the "Hyphenated Americans" speech by Teddy Roosevelt – could have come right out of Trump's mouth) but I had no idea it was as bad as lynchings and internment camps.
My mom's side came over from southern Germany in 1851, with a surname that sounds perhaps kinda German, but with extremely German first names (one relative I had in the Old Country in the 1800's had that name that begins with an "A" that you don't see anymore in polite company since the 1940's).
They never changed our surname (I have it as my middle, still) but they did absolutely Anglicize all their first names around the time of the Great War. They were all the black haired, dark skinned Germans so I guess they could pass with little trouble.
They all did pretty well in America, apparently, in business, local government, police, fire and academia. Good citizens, exactly what this country said they wanted. They took vacations back to the Old Country too, couldn't have been cheap in those days.
I know for a fact that my Great Grandfather not only spoke fluent German but knew all sorts of extremely filthy German Beer Hall songs, a good many of which he passed on to my Grand. My mom, having none of this sort of thing at all, stopped that oral tradition at me, something that infuriates me to this day.
See, now that's the fun kind of ancestral stories to have: "They had drinking songs too filthy for the new world branch of the family." My ancestors, being Swedes, had stories like: "Auntie Rikka liked to bake us cookies, but they always tasted odd because she used canned milk."
Maybe it's the way they told it.
[ actually I'm laughing b.c. your story of their story is funny ]
It was always hard to detect when they were telling a joke because, well, very dry delivery and very bland material.
There was one time when my Uncle One, who moved to Santa Barbara in the 30s, was trying to convince my Uncle Two to move there. Uncle Two asked about the terrible flooding he'd always heard about in California, and Uncle One told him that it's not really a problem because the earthquakes split the earth and the water runs right off.
Well, it could be that your relatives' really rude stories never made it down to the kids – I know I missed out on a few for that very reason. Maybe you'll find an old trunk from a lost aunt that's got a book full of really naughty family stories. That would be fun.
My grandfather was shot at & almost killed by the most notorious gangster in the city when he was a beat cop, so there's that kind of story too.
OMG, that is a cool story.
The most exciting story that got passed down to me was the time that Auntie Rikka bounced out of the rumble seat.
I hope there was drinking involved!
Pass the canned milk, Sven!
My father, who was born in 1910, remembered when Henrici's, a once-fashionable restaurant in downtown Chicago, stopped selling "German pancakes" (potato pancakes, or latkes in Yiddish) to indicate its support for the war effort. Cheap patriotism is always the best kind!
I worked on Capitol Hill a lot during Iraq II when the Freedom Fries thing happened. Funny thing is, I remember seeing it on the menu, but I forgot long ago which cafeteria it was in: It was either the one in the Hart building on the Senate side, or the one in the Rayburn building on the House side, but oddly, I totally forget which one. I mention it because it seems to me any idiot would remember something like that, yet it seemed like this minor little joke to me at the time and so I forgot which one.
Wow, that sounds exciting and frustrating, too, must have been a remarkable learning experience.
Probably on the House side, I think that's where that nonsense originated but I could be wrong.
Friend of mine in my club is a retired Capitol police officer. He was stuck in whatever they have for a central control room during the 9/11 attacks. Still has nightmares, he said they almost shot down an innocent airliner inbound to National because they didn't respond fast enough.
I loved being on the Hill. I def have stories. And I never ever got over being golly-gee awestruck by it all. I do stuff in LA a lot, involved in modest projects, but what makes me morph into a breathy fan girl was being in the front row of political history. Still gets me just thinking about it. I wish I'd been there when Barry was in office, but alas, it was not to be.
I believe the Capitol Police's central control room is (was?) in the basement of the Capitol building itself, on the Senate side, or at least their administrative offices, if memory serves. So that would indeed be scary as shit.
Yes, it makes sense that the Freedom Fries would be on the the menu in a cafeteria on the House side, as that's the Wild West of the Hill and is full of unapologetically idiotic mouth breathers who would not blink twice about offending France. But I seem to recall that when I asked where were the Freedom Fries on the menu in Rayburn, that someone said oh that is actually over in the Hart cafeteria, but (see?) I could have those backwards.
When I would go to D.C. before 9-11 it was such a magical place for someone from freeway-riddled California. I remember being able to go inside the Pentagon, on a frickin' subway, and buy trinkets at their gift shop. After 9-11 it wasn't a total about-face, but I do remember how that public entrance to the Pentagon was walled off in the Metro stop and the Maxwell Smart level of security to get into some places, a sense of D.C. drawing in on itself.
Excellent! Pollen season is nigh and it can be brutal.
Be sure and have your mother read the instructions carefully before she sucks the snot out of your nose.
Oh geez. Missed that one. [realize that it is an issue for parents and children, but still a hilarious site and thread]
I think when I was a baby , when i got clogged-up dad would force shot of Seagrams 7-Crown into me and I would snort and cough until it was dislodged.
Schade says this anti-German sentiment extended to internment.
"Hans Kuhnwald, the concertmeister of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, was interned; the German language was forbidden; the German-American press was heavily censored; libraries had to pull German books off the shelves; German-American organizations were targeted,"
I'd bet that someone with a totally Hun name like "Drumpf" would either change it real quick or be in for a world of hurt.
Hey, kids, look: Freedom Fries!
<img src="https://apushcanvas.pbworks.com/f/1331001102/German%20Words.jpg"/>
My mother's family, who were tall blondes from Stockholm with thick accents when they bothered to speak, which they didn't much, being Swedish, had a last name that looked very German. During WWI, they got scared of being pegged as German and what might happen to them. So they changed the spelling of their last name, switching two vowels. The name no longer looks German, people started pronouncing it correctly and from what I'm told they were quite relieved.
Wow, there's probably a lot more of those stories around than we think. I knew the anti-German sentiment was there (my great disappointment was hearing the "Hyphenated Americans" speech by Teddy Roosevelt – could have come right out of Trump's mouth) but I had no idea it was as bad as lynchings and internment camps.
My mom's side came over from southern Germany in 1851, with a surname that sounds perhaps kinda German, but with extremely German first names (one relative I had in the Old Country in the 1800's had that name that begins with an "A" that you don't see anymore in polite company since the 1940's).
They never changed our surname (I have it as my middle, still) but they did absolutely Anglicize all their first names around the time of the Great War. They were all the black haired, dark skinned Germans so I guess they could pass with little trouble.
They all did pretty well in America, apparently, in business, local government, police, fire and academia. Good citizens, exactly what this country said they wanted. They took vacations back to the Old Country too, couldn't have been cheap in those days.
I know for a fact that my Great Grandfather not only spoke fluent German but knew all sorts of extremely filthy German Beer Hall songs, a good many of which he passed on to my Grand. My mom, having none of this sort of thing at all, stopped that oral tradition at me, something that infuriates me to this day.
See, now that's the fun kind of ancestral stories to have: "They had drinking songs too filthy for the new world branch of the family." My ancestors, being Swedes, had stories like: "Auntie Rikka liked to bake us cookies, but they always tasted odd because she used canned milk."
Maybe it's the way they told it.
[ actually I'm laughing b.c. your story of their story is funny ]
It was always hard to detect when they were telling a joke because, well, very dry delivery and very bland material.
There was one time when my Uncle One, who moved to Santa Barbara in the 30s, was trying to convince my Uncle Two to move there. Uncle Two asked about the terrible flooding he'd always heard about in California, and Uncle One told him that it's not really a problem because the earthquakes split the earth and the water runs right off.
Well, it could be that your relatives' really rude stories never made it down to the kids – I know I missed out on a few for that very reason. Maybe you'll find an old trunk from a lost aunt that's got a book full of really naughty family stories. That would be fun.
My grandfather was shot at & almost killed by the most notorious gangster in the city when he was a beat cop, so there's that kind of story too.
OMG, that is a cool story.
The most exciting story that got passed down to me was the time that Auntie Rikka bounced out of the rumble seat.
I hope there was drinking involved!
Pass the canned milk, Sven!
My father, who was born in 1910, remembered when Henrici's, a once-fashionable restaurant in downtown Chicago, stopped selling "German pancakes" (potato pancakes, or latkes in Yiddish) to indicate its support for the war effort. Cheap patriotism is always the best kind!
"Freedom Flapjacks!"
I wouldn't doubt that "support for the war effort" translated to "avoid having the windows broken in by an angry, drunken mob" too.
I worked on Capitol Hill a lot during Iraq II when the Freedom Fries thing happened. Funny thing is, I remember seeing it on the menu, but I forgot long ago which cafeteria it was in: It was either the one in the Hart building on the Senate side, or the one in the Rayburn building on the House side, but oddly, I totally forget which one. I mention it because it seems to me any idiot would remember something like that, yet it seemed like this minor little joke to me at the time and so I forgot which one.
Wow, that sounds exciting and frustrating, too, must have been a remarkable learning experience.
Probably on the House side, I think that's where that nonsense originated but I could be wrong.
Friend of mine in my club is a retired Capitol police officer. He was stuck in whatever they have for a central control room during the 9/11 attacks. Still has nightmares, he said they almost shot down an innocent airliner inbound to National because they didn't respond fast enough.
I loved being on the Hill. I def have stories. And I never ever got over being golly-gee awestruck by it all. I do stuff in LA a lot, involved in modest projects, but what makes me morph into a breathy fan girl was being in the front row of political history. Still gets me just thinking about it. I wish I'd been there when Barry was in office, but alas, it was not to be.
I believe the Capitol Police's central control room is (was?) in the basement of the Capitol building itself, on the Senate side, or at least their administrative offices, if memory serves. So that would indeed be scary as shit.
Yes, it makes sense that the Freedom Fries would be on the the menu in a cafeteria on the House side, as that's the Wild West of the Hill and is full of unapologetically idiotic mouth breathers who would not blink twice about offending France. But I seem to recall that when I asked where were the Freedom Fries on the menu in Rayburn, that someone said oh that is actually over in the Hart cafeteria, but (see?) I could have those backwards.
When I would go to D.C. before 9-11 it was such a magical place for someone from freeway-riddled California. I remember being able to go inside the Pentagon, on a frickin' subway, and buy trinkets at their gift shop. After 9-11 it wasn't a total about-face, but I do remember how that public entrance to the Pentagon was walled off in the Metro stop and the Maxwell Smart level of security to get into some places, a sense of D.C. drawing in on itself.
…which they didn't much, being Swedish,
*snort*
Being slow & tired this PM, I just caught this.
😉
<img src="http://s-ak.buzzfed.com/static/enhanced/terminal01/2010/9/2/12/enhanced-buzz-22586-1283446229-5.jpg" />
LOL my stomach hurts
What might help is a |Nosefrida|
(ht zd from long ago)
Excellent! Pollen season is nigh and it can be brutal.
Be sure and have your mother read the instructions carefully before she sucks the snot out of your nose.
Oh geez. Missed that one. [realize that it is an issue for parents and children, but still a hilarious site and thread]
I think when I was a baby , when i got clogged-up dad would force shot of Seagrams 7-Crown into me and I would snort and cough until it was dislodged.
Gross!
"Schade" means "a pity" in German.
Throwing Schade, yo
So that explains grampa always saying, "remember, anyone asks…… you're Polish.
Hey, it worked for Mr Bimmler.
[ we did sing the song Lot posted above ]
We ate keilbasa.
der spatzle below ist kaputt
Well, let's try that one again!
You know you're around Germans if | Spätzle | is involved.
YES!!!!!!!!!
Possibly not ethnically correct but a good tune: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCFBef0NhDY
Frank!!!
No. Did she have a good Schnitzel recipe?
That's the perfect name for a pub server.
<img src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v0FeVuTolIk/Tah9hx72SSI/AAAAAAAABIU/41ZJPNEbf58/s1600/schnitzelbank.gif" />
OOM PA PA
<img src="https://img.discogs.com/rOKR71AQhtKhwLB2aV3wYobtd44=/fit-in/300×300/filters:strip_icc():format(jpeg):mode_rgb():quality(40)/discogs-images/R-2991947-1370490608-3985.jpeg.jpg"/>
Cool, kinda like the White Army refugees in NY after the November revolution.