udolf Franzmann, our father's apprentice and protégé, with whom he went fishing on Sundays, became an educator and was, after his retirement, commissioned by the town fathers to research, and write, a town history.
In the late 1990s, Rudolf graciously sent me a copy of both his works, "D.I.M. HONORATIO SANCTO ET SOLLEMNIAE IUSTE …" and "Durchgangstationen," together with an effusive dedication to my parents, who had been so good and meant so much to him.
It seems that the vanquished do, after all, rewrite history, as nary a mention is made in these town histories of the three centuries of presence, and demise, of the Moritz family, to whom he himself, and his ancestors, had been so close.
Bickler, suddenly a man of unexpected wealth and of self-anointed eminence, chose to call on father's farmer clientele in a fancy automobile.
The "Isidorsch," father Isidor and son Ludwig, had moved about mostly on foot, in the same manner as their clientele.
The farmers would have none of Bickler's "uppity" behavior and stopped buying from him.
In a form of poetic justice, he was, in short order, out of business, but did manage to have the ground floor of our house—the "Isidorsch" house—turned into the local Post-Office, thus assuring him a modest income.
After his war had been lost and his friends were out of power, Bickler's heirs were forced to pay the difference between the sales price agreed upon under duress and the true market value, to the new German State.