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Born in 1936, I experienced the Second World War as a child in the city of Gelsenkirchen-Buer. This area was heavily bombed, but fortunately, all members of my family survived the war and post-war period.

When I was a kid, my dad went to World War II. I didn't know him. I was born in '41.

I was born in 1954. My parents were brought up in the war years, and life was hard.

I grew up in the time of Germany after the war.

I was born during the war, on October 20, 1942, as the second of five children. My father, Rolf Volhard, was an architect.

As I was growing up, you know, I'm a white Jewish American born to Holocaust parents. My father fled Nazi Germany in 1939 and my mother's family had fled the czars of Russia before that.

I was born in the shadow of World War II, on December 18, 1939, on the South Shore of Long Island, a product of the early -wentieth-century emigration of Eastern European Jewry to New York City and its environs.

I was born in March 1949, a post war baby boomer.

My father was in the First World War.

Had my grandparents not emigrated when they did, I might have been born Jewish in Eastern Europe during World War II, or I might not have been born at all. Instead, I was born in 1942 in New York City.