In 1958, Erich Himmel and his wife Inge arrived in the United States from West Germany with $110.
Within a day, they were down to $10. A wharf worker who stored the trunk that held all of their belongings demanded $100 for keeping it overnight, according to their daughter Carol. The new immigrants felt they had no choice but to pay him.
He and his wife planned to stay in America only long enough to make some money and then return to a more prosperous life in Germany.
But Chicago became home. He opened and managed several Volkswagen dealerships and opened his own auto-body business in Niles. He and his wife raised Carol and another daughter, Diana, in Lincoln Square.
Mr. Himmel, who became a leader in Chicago’s German American community, died Aug. 29 at 86 at Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge.
When his daughters opened a pizzeria with a wood-burning oven from Rome, he lobbied for adding Teutonic specials. So Himmel’s on Lawrence Avenue serves wiener schnitzel and Bavarian pork shanks along with pizza.
As many of Chicago’s German Americans moved to the suburbs, Mr. Himmel helped keep the community together by leading ethnic organizations for nearly 45 years, including the Rheinischer Verein Mardi Gras Society and the United German American Societies of Greater Chicago, which includes about 35 groups that nurture the culture with Oktoberfest celebrations, soccer matches, Alpine skiing and German singing and folk dancing.
In 1984, his homeland awarded him the Bundesverdienstkreuz — a federal cross of merit — for his efforts to keep German culture alive, his daughter said.
George Rieg, treasurer of the United German American Societies of Greater Chicago, said Mr. Himmel was to be honored this weekend at Lincoln Square’s German American Fest and Saturday’s Steuben Parade, a celebration of German culture and heritage.
Mr. Himmel, grand marshal for 35 years, cut an arresting figure at the parade with his resplendent facial hair.
“Some people called him ‘Mister Mustache,’ ” Rieg said.
Mr. Himmel was born in the German town of Mosbach, the son of Franziska and Michael Himmel. He was just 3 months old when his father died and described himself as having been a schlüsselkind — a latchkey kid.
As a boy during World War II, he rode his bike everywhere. One day, Allied bombs rained down.
“He woke up in a ditch,” Carol Himmel said.
She said that another time, “He remembered crawling out of his house — it took days to dig out — and, when he did, there were piles of dead bodies.”
For safety, he was sent to live with his cousin Shossel on a family farm about 70 miles from Munich.
At 17, he met Inge Brauer at a Munich dance hall. He told her he didn’t plan to settle down till he was 30. Hearing that, she moved to Montreal to work as an au pair.
But he missed her so much, Carol Himmel said, “The only thing he had to his name was a Vespa, and he sold that so he could buy her a ticket home.”
They were married in 1957.
“After the war, there was no housing in Munich,” the daughter said. “In their first year of marriage, they lived with my dad’s mom, sleeping in the same bed as her.”
When they immigrated to the United States in 1958, at first they lived in New Hampshire — where they had to pay off the wharf worker to get back their trunk.
“They still have the trunk,” their daughter said.
In New Hampshire, Mr. Himmel worked as a watchman at a shoe company.
They moved to Chicago, where he found work as a Volkswagen mechanic.
In 1960, he was drafted into the Army. Mr. Himmel served in Germany, where he saw the Berlin Wall go up.
Once back in Chicago, he helped open several Volkswagen dealerships.
In 1978, the Himmels moved back to Germany. Their daughter Diana, born in Munich during his military service, had graduated from Lane Tech High School but was competing in — and for — West Germany in figure-skating.
After several months, Carol Himmel said, “Dad said to Diana, ‘Will you stay if we stay?’ And she said, ‘No, I want to go back to Chicago.’ ”
When they drove to meet the real estate agent who was going to help them find a home in Germany, Carol Himmel said, “Dad didn’t get out of the car. He didn’t crank the window down. And he said, ‘Let’s go home.’ ”
After returning to Chicago, Mr. Himmel opened Erich’s Lehigh Auto Body repair in Niles.
At his funeral, his wife wore a traditional dirndl as she accompanied his casket.
In addition to his wife and daughters, Mr. Himmel was “Opa” to three grandchildren and had two great-grandchildren.
