She came back to the US in 1930 and that is when my Dad, Henry, met his Dad for the first time. My dad passed away in 1998—he never went back to Switzerland.

Due to certain circumstances in my life right now, I wanted to travel to Switzerland to at least say that I was there. I am first generation in the USA, and I wanted to see my heritage.
We had always been told that my dad's house was gone. I had a picture of it with my great grandparents in front. I sent that picture to the owner of the guesthouse in Speicher to explain why I was visiting. Relatives had told us that the house was gone. But apparently not. Lost in the translation of renovation, it was confused as replaced.

When we got to Speicher, the guesthouse owner also thought that the house was no longer there, but had taken the picture I sent to her to Town Hall in Speicher. When we arrived she handed me a map and walked my family and me to the church in town and pointed down a hill. She said that maybe down there is where it was.
We walked down the hill and my son noticed that the hills in the photo were right ahead of us. I noticed that the two houses in the background were still there as well. When we walked a little further, sure enough, the house was still there. It was quite emotional and sentimental to see it and touch it.

We spoke to neighbors there who told us the house was 240 years old and that the former owners were embroiderers. That fits my history because my aunts and uncles in this country owned an embroidery factory where my grandmother Emma worked in her golden years.

It was quite a trip. Driving through the Alps was like a religious experience. So Beautiful and so vast. I took some flowers from Speicher and buried them on my fathers grave in the US. So now he has some of his homeland with him at his resting place here on Earth. Although I know he is smiling in heaven. It was truly a miracle for our family.