I am indebted to a very great many persons, none of whom may be charged with any responsibility for any of the things I have said in this book:
My friends who thought I might learn a little something in Germany, especially Robert M. Hutchins, then of the University of Chicago; Gilbert White and Douglas Steere, of Haverford College; A. J. Muste, of the Fellowship of Reconciliation; and Morris H. Rubin, editor of The Progressive.
My colleagues at the Institut für Sozialforschung, Frankfurt University, especially Professor Frederick Pollock, whose “baby” I was and who goaded and guided me, cried over me, prayed for me, and apologized for me from start to finish.
My two ardent assistants (“slaves” would be better) in Kronenberg, Frau Eva Hermann and Frau Martha Koch.
My three ardent friends in Kronenberg, Fräulein Dr. Gisela Prym, Dr. Leonora Balla Cayard, and Horstmar Stauber.
John K. Dickinson, of Cambridge, Massachusetts (and of Kronenberg), who, as I go through my notes, seems to have done all the research that went into this book; and the late Frederick Lewis Allen, of New York City, who, as I go through the manuscript, seems to have done all the writing in the course of preparing sections of the book for serialization in Harper’s Magazine in 1954.
Professor Robert H. Lowie, of the University of California, whose remarkable study, The German People: A Social Portrait to 1914 (New York: Rinehart & Co., 1945), was the richest of the many treasures of other writers that I plundered.
My friends in Carmel and Monterey, California, Isabel Devine, Louise van Peski, Janet Farr, Marion Chamberlain, Liesel Wurzmann, Fritz Wurzmann, Charles Mohler, Harlan Watkins, Ephraim Doner, Francis Palms, Dr. Bruno Adriani, and the late R. Ellis Roberts.
Robert C. McNamara, Jr., of Chicago.
My daughter Julie, who set my fractured German, especially in Heine and the Talmud.
My mother, who thought I might learn a little something somewhere.
Mutti, my wife.