Lucky breaks

Abstract

My first lucky break happened when I was about 4 years old. I was visiting my aunt Lydia in D¼sseldorf and, after a downtown shopping trip, I wanted to stay behind to watch the traffic, directed by a policeman, at a busy intersection of the Grafenberger Allee. My aunt agreed if I promised not to follow the “Düsseldorf murderer,” also known as the “Düsseldorf Vampire,” who was then killing, mostly young boys and girls, in droves in the neighborhood. A few minutes after she had left me, a middle-aged man with a mustache, wearing a boater, approached me and invited me to go with him. (I forget where and what the enticement was-sweets, or an interesting sight?) I would have followed him because he seemed very nice, but remembering my aunt’s warning I declined, telling him I was very intent on watching the traffic. Then, significantly, he turned around and walked back in the same direction from which he had approached me. He had hardly disappeared when I ran to my aunt’s flat proclaiming: “I saw the Düsseldorf murderer!” But, of course, nobody believed me. Not much later, when he was caught and his picture appeared in the newspapers, I recognized him. His name was Peter Kürten. He confessed and was guillotined on 2 July 1931. In an interesting twist, he first confessed to his unsuspecting wife so that, on her reporting him to the police, she could collect the substantial reward.