That's just how it is when you have a slightly different surname.
At the end of August my uncle Heini Krzizok celebrated his 80th birthday.
In 1945 he fled Upper Silesia with his mother and two siblings - their father died in the war - and found a new home in Neufinsing.
Among other things, he was mayor of the municipality of Finsing from 1990 to 2008 - a proud 18 years old.
I remembered a lot of stories from earlier about our last name.
For example, when I visited my schoolmates at home for the first time as a first grader. When they introduced me at home by my name, the question ALWAYS came up: “Are your parents a refugee?” Often with the addition. “Backpack Germans?” And I ALWAYS replied: “My dad is from Upper Silesia, my mom from Neufinsing.” Even later, in the higher grades, teachers kept stumbling over my name. When a new teacher read the class list for the first time and suddenly stopped, the whole class would always shout: "Kritschok - KRZIZOK!"
It's not easy for my son today. If, for example, the team line-up is read out during an Erding Gladiators away game, the fan block places bets beforehand on how the name will be pronounced this time. What has also been there that a stadium newspaper raved about the "two goal-threatening Eastern Europeans Ales Jirik and Daniel Krzizok".
But back to my uncle one more time.
As a child he had already followed what his mom had told him: "Always say hello and always be helpful." And so, as a young boy, he helped in many clubs and organizations and volunteered for countless years.
His mom, who died far too early at the age of 62 in 1970, had often raved about her youngest son among friends and said that he had what it takes to be mayor.
But she regularly received opposition, with the argument: "With your last name you can become anything, but certainly not the mayor of an Upper Bavarian municipality." What became of it: see above.