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Aug. 5, 2024

Sigrid Schultz

In 1926, American Sigrid Schultz became one of the first women to head a foreign bureau for a US newspaper when she was named the chief correspondent for the Berlin bureau of the Chicago Tribune. In her 26 years with the Tribune, Schultz, using her command of German and French, her knowledge of German politics and history, and her wide range of contacts, reported on the rise of Nazism and warned American readers to take Hitler seriously. Joining me in this episode to tell the story of Sigrid Schultz and her journalistic career is writer Dr. Pamela Toler, author of The Dragon From Chicago: The Untold Story of an American Reporter in Nazi Germany.

 

Our theme song is Frogs Legs Rag, composed by James Scott and performed by Kevin MacLeod, licensed under Creative Commons. The mid-episode music is “Over There,” composed by George M. Cohan, and performed by the Peerless Quartet, in New York City on June 13, 1917; the audio is in the public domain and is available via the Library of Congress National Jukebox. The episode image is “Journalist Sigrid Schultz,” a photo taken in 1943 and in the public domain; it is available via Wikimedia Commons.

 

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Transcript

Kelly  0:00  
This is Unsung History, the podcast where we discuss people and events in American history that haven't always received a lot of attention. I'm your host, Kelly Therese Pollock. I'll start each episode with a brief introduction to the topic, and then talk to someone who knows a lot more than I do. Be sure to subscribe to Unsung History on your favorite podcasting app so you never miss an episode, and please tell your friends, family, neighbors, colleagues, maybe even strangers to listen too.

Kelly  0:38  
Sigrid Schultz was born in Chicago on January 15, 1893, to European immigrants, Herman and Hedwig Schultz. They lived in the Summerdale neighborhood on the north side of Chicago in what is now part of Edgewater. Her parents' home was often the site of gatherings of artists, politicians and other immigrants, and Sigrid was raised trilingual, speaking English, German, and French. In 1901, when Sigrid was eight, Herman, who was a Norwegian portrait artist, moved the family back to Europe, to work on several lucrative commissions. They headed to Germany, where Sigrid met some of her mother's relatives, and then eventually settled in Paris for the next decade. In Paris, Sigrid attended the Lycee Racine, the second oldest girls' high school in Paris, where the professional women who taught her may have helped to stoke her own career aspirations. Illness kept her from formally enrolling in the Sorbonne where she had been admitted, but she attended classes anyway, learning European history and international law. When she was 20, Sigrid Schultz took a job teaching English and French at a private German school a few hours west of Berlin where her parents were then living. Schultz declined an offer to keep teaching there, though, after the school rejected an application from a student because she was Jewish. As World War I began in August, 1914, Hedwig was too ill to travel, so Sigrid stayed with her in Berlin, cobbling together an income as a private English and French tutor. When the United States declared war on Germany in 1917, Sigrid was again tied to Germany, this time because her father, Herman, was too ill to travel, hospitalized in Hamburg. To make ends meet while living in Berlin as an enemy alien, Schultz worked for a visiting Turkish diplomat who hired her to attend history and law courses at the University of Berlin in his stead, and then teach him the material in French, since he did not speak German. She also translated for him in meetings and through his work, she learned much about the political landscape of Germany and made important contacts. In March, 1919, Schultz attended a gala costume ball on the final night of Berlin's Carnival Week, where she met two American newspaper correspondents who had come to Berlin since armistice to report on post war Germany and the Weimar Revolution. One of those correspondents, 50 year old, Dick Little, head of the Chicago Tribune's New Berlin Bureau was impressed both by Schultz's language skills and by her knowledge of German history and politics. He offered her the chance to be an interpreter/cub reporter, and when she succeeded in setting up interviews for him that a previous aide had failed to secure, she became the number two man at the Tribune's Berlin bureau. Little who always maintained that discovering Schultz was one of his proudest achievements, taught her all about the newspaper business. Over the next few years, the Tribune's owner and publisher, Colonel Robert Rutherford McCormick, moved bureau chiefs across Europe, and in Berlin, as chiefs came and went, the only constant was Schultz, who, with her language skills, connections, and knowledge, continued working as the number two, while the men in charge often took credit for her work. Finally, in early 1926, Sigrid Schultz was named the chief correspondent for The Berlin Bureau of the Chicago Tribune. As Frederick Cole of United Press Berlin wrote to her, "Without any aspirations on your predecessors, most of whom I know, and who are my friends, it's an open secret that you've really been number one for a long time. If anybody deserves this recognition, you're it. Best of luck to you in your new old job." She may have finally held the title, but Schultz had to fight the Tribune to be compensated at a level commensurate with her male colleagues. From Berlin, Schultz reported to an American audience about the rise of Hitler and fascism, writing in August, 1930, that the upcoming Reichstag elections were of international importance, and outlining the danger of Hitler and his followers. In December, 1931, Schultz interviewed Hitler, and her assessment was that, "His confidence in himself is staggering." Over the next few years, as she continued to report on the Nazi threat, Schultz was called into Gestapo headquarters several times. After German President von Hindenburg died on August 2, 1934, Adolf Hitler proclaimed himself to be both President and Chancellor under the title Fuhrer. Just a few weeks later, American journalist Dorothy Thompson was ordered to leave Germany. Over the next three years, another 37 foreign correspondents either chose to or were forced to leave Germany. Schultz narrowly avoided that fate, walking a fine line and doing her best to get the story out without risking the wrath of Hitler or Hermann Goring, who called her "that dragon from Chicago." In January, 1941, Schultz left Berlin, headed for what she expected to be a short stay in the United States. However, illness and then injury from a traffic accident kept her in the US longer, and by the time she recovered, she didn't have an assignment to return to. While in the US, she published a book, "Germany Will Try It Again," which came out in January, 1944. In February, 1945, Schultz finally returned to Europe, reporting on the liberation of several concentration camps, and covering the end of the war and the beginning of war trials. By December, 1945, she was back in the United States, and she ended her affiliation with the Chicago Tribune over a dispute with Colonel McCormick. Although she continued to write and publish articles, Schultz's newspaper career was essentially over. She settled in Westport, Connecticut, where her ailing mother now lived in a 240 year old cottage. Sigrid Schultz died at home in Westport, Connecticut, on May 14, 1980, at the age of 87. Joining me now to help us learn all about the incredible life of Sigrid Schultz is Dr. Pamela Toler, author of, "The Dragon From Chicago: The Untold Story of an American Reporter in Nazi Germany." 

Kelly  10:13  
Hi, Pamela, thanks so much for joining me today.

Dr. Pamela Toler  10:15  
I am delighted to be here. 

Kelly  10:17  
Yes, so I want to start. My usual first question is, how did you get interested in this topic and decide to write a book about Sigrid Schultz? 

Dr. Pamela Toler  10:26  
You know, I stumbled across the story. I was, just this interesting little story popped up on my news feed one morning. An architectural salvage vendor had gotten the rights to tear out stuff in a house in Ravenswood on the north side, and he found 75 glass plate negatives in the attic of the house. You know, the kind that normally a photographer would use to do formal portraits, but these were informal pictures, and most of them were of a woman, a small child, and a really big dog. And it turned out his girlfriend was a photographic historian. So together, they tracked down who these people were. And it turned out, the little girl was named Sigrid Schultz. The woman was her mother. The photographs were taken by her father, Herman, who was a portrait painter, a Norwegian portrait painter, who had emigrated to the United States. You know, it's just this interesting little puzzle I'm reading along with my morning tea. And then I hit the punchline, which was, she grew up to be a groundbreaking foreign correspondent, and probably one of the first women to head up a foreign news bureau for a major American newspaper. And I was like, what? But interestingly, it didn't take very long for me to track down some rough details about her. She was, in fact, the bureau chief, the Berlin bureau chief for the Chicago Tribune, 1925 to 1941. So she's there right through the rise of the Nazis. And, you know, she was just tough and amazing. And I was hooked.

Kelly  12:12  
Yeah, it's a fascinating life. And, you know, another one of those, like, how, why don't I know about this person? So I'm glad that you wrote this book. So tell me a little bit about the sources there's there's a lot that you're able to uncover about her life. And of course, you were doing some of this research during the height of covid. So what did your research look like?

Dr. Pamela Toler  12:34  
Well, my research was very much made difficult by the height of covid, but there are actually a number of sources available, and at the point where I couldn't go anywhere, what I could do, thanks to the Chicago Public Library, I could get the historical Tribune online. So I was able to read all of her byline stories, in chronological order, beginning with the first one in 1919 when she was a cub reporter. And it's this fluffy little story about visiting Paris, all the way up through the point when she left in February of 1941. That was chilling, it was amazing. At the same time, I was able to get memoirs from other journalists who were in Germany at the time, because an awful lot of them did write about their experience there, because they knew they were seeing something historical. And they're not very good for the most part. I mean, they're they're not the kind of books that last, with the exception of William Shirer's "Berlin Diary." But in some ways, the ones that weren't very good were more useful for my purposes, because they told stories. They tried to get, so I learned about the setup that the Nazis did press release conferences, for instance, which someone like Shirer doesn't bother with. So I had that, and once I was finally able to get in, there are actually three archives that have material. One, the University of Wisconsin at Madison, or the Historical Society at Madison, has most of her papers. Then the Tribune archives are at Northwestern and there's a lot of correspondence with her and about her there. And then there's a very small archive in Westport, Connecticut, which is where she spent the last years of her life. And, you know, getting in was tricky, but, but I was able to get to all three of them, and there's some amazing stuff out there. The glory about writing about someone who's a journalist is they leave notes.

Kelly  14:57  
So you mentioned she was a cub reporter. Let's talk a little bit about her background and how she ended up being in this position where she just kind of fell into journalism. She wasn't training for it or anything, just she wasn't expecting it, just right place, right time. So tell me about her upbringing and how that led her to have the the sort of background, the language background, the context that she needed once she did fall into this.

Dr. Pamela Toler  15:23  
Sure. I mean, her parents were European. Her father was Norwegian. Her mother was from Germany, though, as best we can tell, she was kind of a Heinz 57 kind of kind of German, and they had immigrated here in 1892. Sigrid was born in 1893, and they were absolutely determined that she was going to be multilingual, as they were. So as a small child, the rule in the house was that she had to answer anything an adult said to her in the language they set it in. So growing up, she's getting German and French, you know, she's growing and obviously she speaks three languages like a six year old. She doesn't speak it like an 18 year old, but she has a firm foundation of three languages, and is used to having to do little skits to perform for guests at the house, that kind of thing. Then the Schultz family goes back to Europe. Sigrid is eight. The economy has gone bad in the United States, the portrait market has dried up. And even though her parents had planned to stay, Herman got an important portrait commission, and instead of going back by himself, he took Hedwig and Sigrid with him. He only planned to stay for two years. It was actually going to be another 40 years before Sigrid ever lived in the United States again. And she would, though she would always describe herself, not only as being an American, but being an American from Chicago. That was really important to who to who she was so but she went to school for a time in Germany, where she learned that speaking German in the United States was not the same as being fluent in Germany. And she she had a frustrating moment of being held back a grade or two until she got up to skills. She then attended school in Paris, include and then graduated with honors from a really prestigious girls' high school, where, in addition being fluent in French, she learned some Italian. On the summers, she went to Norway to visit her father's family, she becomes fluent in Norwegian. So by the time she's 17 or 18, she's fluent in four languages, functional in a fifth, and kind of fakes her way through a handful of others. And she after she graduates from high school, she takes some history and law classes at the Sorbonne. She never actually enrolls because she has what they think is tuberculosis, and turns out to just be exhaustion, but she's fascinated by history. She's fascinated by law, and so when the Tribune finds her, she has language skills. She is really well versed in European history and European culture, and she's managed to build the beginnings of what's going to be an unprecedented network of sources. She gets trapped in Berlin during World War I. She finds work because of her language skills. She uses her father's connections because he was just a very social animal. So he had lots of connections everywhere, and then she builds on those. So she has already, by the end of World War I, got connections pretty much all levels of German society, and no other American reporter in Berlin has that. 

Kelly  19:05  
I want to talk a little bit about gender. And you know, this is certainly a time when there are not that many women reporters compared to men reporters. And as you mentioned, she's one of the first to lead a foreign correspondent office, and she, at some points, seems to kind of almost feel like she's one of the men. She calls herself a newspaper man. She wants to be paid as much as the men are paid. She bristles when she doesn't get invited to things. But on the other hand, she does tend to sometimes, like, use her gender, the the unexpectedness of her gender, or, you know, opens her eyes real wide, or something, you know, to try to, you know, maybe flirt her way into a story. So, could you talk about the the complicated ways that she's thinking about gender.

Dr. Pamela Toler  19:54  
It's a real balancing act for her, because she's a small attractive blonde woman with a really sharp mind at a time when, you know, women have to fight their way into positions if or stumble into them, which is kind of what she did. And she certainly had a man open the door for her, and she was always aware of the fact that he had opened the door, but she was also aware of the fact that lots of guys tried to kick it closed again. And you know, after the fact, she claims never to have suffered any gender discrimination. You know, there's this, this tendency to look back on a rosy past and to say, "I got the job because I was good at the job," and she was good at the job, but she also suffered gender discrimination all the time, and at the same time, she would make use of it, and I really can't blame her, because she had to put up with the garbage too. So she might as well get the ability to catch them off guard by being small and blonde and opening her eyes really wide and saying, "What you don't think it's true?" but it's pretty clear to me that she never slept to its source the way some of her female counterparts were at least rumored to do.

Kelly  21:23  
After a number of years as the number two in Berlin, but acknowledged by many people, as probably really the number one, just you know, in not in name, she is eventually promoted then to be the chief correspondent in the Berlin office. Can you talk a little bit about the way she's received by Colonel McCormick, by other people at the Tribune, by other reporters in Europe, like what what they think of her and her abilities?

Dr. Pamela Toler  21:53  
The other reporters seem to acknowledge that she is very good at her job. I mean, William Shirer, who was the author of "The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich," said that there was no other American reporter in Berlin who knew as much about what was happening behind the scenes as she did. And when she first got the job, she got a lot of congratulations that basically said it's well deserved. You know, you've been holding this position unofficially for a long time, so there was a great deal of respect for her skills. McCormick's an interesting character because they disagree on just about everything, and they and that gets worse with the passage of time. And yet, at times when he's firing men to save money, he's not firing Sigrid. At various points, he says that she's the best man he has on the job, and theirs is a really complicated relationship. You know, along the course of her career, she often finds fathers. Her own father was absent in many ways, and so, you know, Dick Little she acknowledges as her father in journalism, but she also sees the Tribune as a family, and that, almost by default, makes Colonel McCormick father or grandfather, certainly patriarch of the family. So yeah, he's they, by and large, have a great deal of respect for her, though they occasionally find her prickly and difficult to deal with and and there's no doubt she could hold a grudge and balance a chip on her shoulder as well as anyone, even when they were often well deserved.

Kelly  23:50  
She has this additional tightrope to walk, which is that she is in Germany, between the wars, up through the beginning of the Second World War, and she has to balance trying to get the truth out there, tell accurate stories, tell them quickly as any reporter wants to, but also not get kicked out by the Germans, who increasingly, over this time period, with the rise of Hitler and the Nazi Party, are controlling more and more of the news. So what is her approach to that, how is she sort of managed that? And, you know, she she never does, in the end, get kicked out, but she might have, if she'd stayed longer.

Dr. Pamela Toler  24:28  
Or worse, she'd have gotten injured. Yeah. Well, it her approach to that changes over time. The first time she gets called into the Gestapo, which happens like five months after they take power, it's very quickly. You know, she goes in, sure that the fact that her stories are true and accurate is a shield. You know, she's always used that line with the Weimar Republic when, when they call her to account, because occasionally she would get called in and her wrist slapped by the Weimar Republic. As well, but she always said, "If you can prove that something that I said isn't true, we'll we'll print a retraction." She began to learn pretty quickly that the truth was not a shield under the Nazis, even when had been reported in their own papers, they didn't necessarily want her to report the same stories in theirs. So she began to find ways to try to get the news out. One was that she had a small piece of important news, she would shove it in the middle of another story, on the assumption that most people don't read past the first paragraph anyway, and that that was a way to try to get it out. As things got worse, she would send stories out in two separate parts, hoping that at least half of it would get to Chicago. As long as it was easy to get across the border, she would go into Czechoslovakia, in to the Netherlands, and send stories from there. Probably the most dramatic thing she did, though, was she created a pseudonym. And it occurred in 1936, because the Chicago office had sent a note to her via the Paris office asking her to write an additional story on the Night of the Long Knives, which had happened two years previously. It's the event where Hitler basically massacres the heads of the SS and anyone else that he thought might be a political rival, and the Paris office just didn't have the same sense of the threat that German the German office did. So the secretary from the Paris office calls her to give her this instruction, just totally unaware or clueless about the fact that the phones are probably being tapped. And then the head of the Paris office sends her a note about it to her home, and she knows the Nazis saw that because it's been opened and the censor's stamp is on it. But she really wants to write this story, because a few months earlier was the Berlin Olympics, and a lot of Americans who came were really impressed with the Nazi Germany they saw which it was kind of a Disneyland version of Nazi Germany. And, I mean, in some ways, it had been literally whitewashed. Some buildings had been painted. So they go home and they say, you know, these, these reporters are crazy. It's just not as bad as they say it is. In fact, it's rather nice and and she desperately wants to combat that idea. So she decided for her first thing that she tried to do was to take advantage of the fact that the Nazis are listening and reading, and informs the Tribune that she can't possibly write this story. There's no new information. She's already said everything she has to say, and she counts on the fact that the Nazis either hear this by telephone or and then she goes to Paris, where she writes the story. And when she sends it back to the United States, she tells them, you know, you really need to run this under a different byline so that it doesn't enrage the Nazis. And her phrase is that, "It doesn't make the tiger any madder than he already is." And the name she suggests is John Dickson, which is a sly tribute to her mentor, Dick Little. Again, he she always describes him as her father in journalism, and that makes her Dick's son, and she used that pseudonym for the rest of the time that she was in Berlin for anything particularly apt to get her in trouble, though she certainly was writing plenty of stories that continued to enrage the Nazis under her own name.

Kelly  29:01  
Yeah. Yeah. So interestingly, while she is lucky in terms of, like, falling into journalism and this being a good fit for her and stuff, she's not particularly lucky in love. She has three great loves, and none of them end up working out. Could you talk a little bit about that and the ways you're able to piece together those stories?

Dr. Pamela Toler  29:23  
Sure. I mean, her first great love is a young Norwegian sailor who she meets on her summers in Norway, and she is engaged to marry him. It's World War I, he is on his way back to Norway, and his ship is torpedoed, and she was actually supposed to meet him in Norway to get married. And it took two months for them even to be able to confirm what had happened to the ship. And I mean, it was just, she just talks about horrible that time was, which and and that it then took her a long time to to trust again. And you know that story comes in bits and pieces. It's she has a number of partial memoirs that she wrote. There are a number of times late in life she's being interviewed. So yeah, it's, it's a bit here, a bit there and and you really have only the bare bones of the story. Her second great love was another journalist who worked, who was in Berlin as a reporter with The New York Times at first, and he was a party boy. I mean, he just, he was a hard drinking party boy. She didn't quite trust him. They have a really tumultuous relationship over a very brief period of time. He gets transferred out of Berlin to Warsaw. She visits him there a couple of times. He's supposed to come back at various times. Sometimes he makes it, sometimes he doesn't. And when he does come it's, you know, those visits are always frustrating and fraught. And then he ends up going back home to the United States because he doesn't get reassigned by the New York Times, and he's back in the States, trying to find work, and there's this series of letters between them, where she's often pouring out her heart to him. Some of the best sources about what her experience at the Tribune is during her early years as bureau chief. She visits him in New York. Well, she's in the United States for other reasons, and visits him in New York. Something happened, enough that she sends him a gift that includes a ring that her father had given her that she's engraved his name in. And then something goes wrong, and we don't know what, because there are clearly letters that didn't survive. They almost make it happen again later. And then he suddenly dies, and she is again distraught. Her third great love is a Romanian diplomat who she meets in Berlin. And just like she did with the the journalist, she kind of tries to keep it on the down low, because it's a let's just say the double standard is alive and well, and while many of her male colleagues are having affairs right and left, whether they're married or not, she's not going to be given the same leeway. And this seems, in fact, to have been the greatest of the great loves. It is clear that he is so caring and careful of her. But as things get worse in Germany, he gets called back to Romania. They can't get back together. He can't get a visa that will let him come back. She's able to visit him there once, but when he leaves, she writes to her mother that it feels like being widowed for the third time. In fact, they stay in contact through the rest of her life with once she's in the United States, letters back and forth. Not as many as they would like. Increasingly difficult as he loses his English and his German from lack of use, but yeah, he remains her love till the end of her life, and she actually leaves money for him in her will, if people can find a way to get it to him without endangering him.

Kelly  33:57  
So she comes back to the US, ends up getting ill and then injured, and has to stay in the US for a while, but she does go back to Europe then, and is there for the liberation of some of the concentration camps. Can you talk a little bit about that experience, and her facility with language really serves her well there and being able to get some of the real stories? 

Dr. Pamela Toler  34:23  
Absolutely. She actually is part of a small group of correspondents that are flown to Buchenwald only a few hours after the camp has been liberated. So I mean, anyone who got to Buchenwald saw horrible things, but they saw it without any filter at all, and it was absolutely horrifying. But she had an experience that was very different. In addition to the shared experience, she has an unusual experience because of her ability to talk to the prisoners directly. So. And she had a list of young French scholars who had been arrested by the Nazis as soon as they arrived in Paris. They were believed to be the best and the brightest, and France saw them as their future, and the Nazis weren't about to have them have a future. So she had this list, and as she traveled into Germany with the American troops, she was always looking for news about them. Was clear that a lot of the people in Buchenwald were French speakers, so she was looking for news of them. At one point, one of the French speakers said, "You know there's, there's a group of prisoners in this barracks set apart from the rest. The American doctors are trying to help other people in the hospital, but this group are beyond help. They're dying, but that it would be really meaningful for them to hear someone tell them in French that they were free." So she sucks it up and goes to the barracks, and she's it's the most gruesome thing she's ever seen. You know, there are bunks, three, three tall, and blood and other liquids from the prisoners on the top dripping down to the prisoners below. And there's just nothing she can do for them except to call out over and over again in French, "You are free. The camp has been liberated." And then for some reason she said, "I've just come from Paris. The chestnuts are in bloom in Paris." And one of the men sat up halfway and reached out his hand to her, and she took it, and he said, "Is it true?" And she says, Yes, you're free. The American planes are coming." And he says, "Chestnuts are in bloom?" And she nodded her head, yes, and he died.

Kelly  37:10  
After the war, then she comes back to the United States, and she just really seems like she she can't find her way in a post war United States, journalistically, right? Can you talk a little bit about, you know what, what she goes through, and you know why, why she's not able to?

Dr. Pamela Toler  37:33  
She's, she clearly is. She doesn't want to go back, right then, because, you know, she's 53 she's got an elderly mother that she's an only child, and her father's long dead, so she has an elderly mother that she's responsible for, and she's not in great health herself. So she tries to cobble together an income. Some ways, she's got to have felt a lot like being back in Berlin during World War I, trying to get these little scraps of things. And you know, for the next 10 years, she's remembered as a German expert, and she does get work, but, you know, the languages aren't very useful in the United States. Her network of contacts is meaningless in the United States, and she makes it harder on herself because she, well, she often makes it harder on herself, but particularly she makes it harder on herself because she's just not able to let go of the idea that Germany is still the real danger. And, you know, she can't make the shift to the Soviet Union being the big bad. Even when she tries to tell that story, she always ends up shifting back to East Germany. So she ends up being a real political dinosaur. And, and that's a problem if you're a political reporter.

Kelly  39:02  
I wanted to ask you more generally, how you approach writing in a more accessible way, in a way that the general public can read, and not just people with PhDs in history. So I wonder if you could just talk a little bit about that?

Dr. Pamela Toler  39:18  
Well partially, that's what I've always done. My dissertation advisor, the first one, used to call it Pam's purple prose. So at some level, it's just the way I write. But I try to tell stories, and I try to take the time to understand just how much background a regular, intelligent reader needs, so that I'm not assuming they know what happens, and I'm not assuming they know how the Weimar Republic becomes the Weimar Republic. I'm not assuming they know the steps that lead to Hitler being in control. And sometimes that's the hardest part, is giving enough and not giving too much. And particularly in this book, there were lots of times where I realized I had started to write a history of Nazi Germany, as told by Sigrid Schultz, as opposed to Sigrid Schultz life, which requires you to understand Nazi Germany. And one thing that's very important is I have two first readers who are both smart general readers, and who will tell me, "I don't get this, or I don't need to know this, or you've got way too much of this," and that's that's gold. 

Kelly  40:44  
Well, this is a fantastic book for a general audience. And I think, you know, reading sometimes you don't want to just read a history of Nazi Germany, even if you think like I know this is important to understand how fascism can come into power. So this, to me, was just perfect, being able to read the history of a strong, amazing woman and get the this, this sub history of how the Nazis came to power. So can you tell listeners how they can get a copy?

Dr. Pamela Toler  41:13  
You know, it should be available wherever you get your books. I mean, even if your local bookstore doesn't have it in stock, they can certainly order it, and it's available on all the online places too. If you're in Chicago, I'll make a plug for the Seminary Co Op Bookstore, which does carry it, and can can arrange for you to get a signed copy, if that matters to you. 

Kelly  41:36  
Excellent. Well, Pamela, thank you so much. I loved learning about Sigrid Schultz, and it's been such fun to talk to you. 

Dr. Pamela Toler  41:43  
It's been a delight. Thank you so much for having me.

Dr. Pamela Toler  42:16  
Thanks for listening to Unsung History. Please subscribe to Unsung History on your favorite podcasting app. You can find the sources used for this episode and a full episode transcript @UnsungHistorypodcast.com. To the best of our knowledge, all audio and images used by Unsung History are in the public domain or are used with permission. You can find us on Twitter or Instagram @Unsung__History or on Facebook @UnsungHistorypodcast. To contact us with questions, corrections, praise, or episode suggestions, please email Kelly@UnsungHistorypodcast.com. If you enjoyed this podcast, please rate, review, and tell everyone you know. Bye!

Transcribed by https://otter.ai

Pamela Toler Profile Photo

Pamela Toler

Armed with a PhD in history, a well-thumbed deck of library cards, and a large bump of curiosity, author, speaker, and historian Pamela D. Toler translates history for a popular audience. She goes beyond the familiar boundaries of American history to tell stories from other parts of the world as well as history from the other side of the battlefield, the gender line, or the color bar. Toler is the author of ten books of popular history for children and adults, including Heroines of Mercy Street: Real Nurses of the Civil War, Women Warriors: An Unexpected History, and The Dragon From Chicago: The Untold Story of an American Reporter in Nazi Germany, due out in August, 2024. Her work has appeared in American Scholar, Aramco World, Calliope, History Channel Magazine, MHQ: The Quarterly Journal of Military History, Ms., Time.com and The Washington Post and has been featured in National Geographic.