I noticed the elderly gray haired man wearing a traditional German Alpine jacket, with green lapels and silver buttons. He held a folded map in his hand and asked me, “Are you from here?”

“Kind of,” I answered.

“Can you tell me where the Mozarthaus is?”

“Just walk up this cobblestone street. At the end, on the left side, is the museum,” I said.

“Nice jacket,” I commented as I began to walk away. I should have kept going. But the man said something I could not quite understand, and I turned back.

“I am off to Brno for a meeting of Germans to memorialize the day thousands of Czechs murdered us. They clubbed them to death and........

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