Start with the Intro Chapter Below

As a great-great-grandson to Professor Jost Winteler, I coveted the idea of taking a close look at the relationships between Albert Einstein and my family, the Wintelers: how they met, the friendships, romance, love, marriage, struggles, life achievements, happy moments, but also examining the downright tragic ones. 

 

I wanted to know what happened after this loner-type of a young man from Germany dropped out of school and somehow ended up living in the boisterous household. What happened in that house? And what happened to them over the ensuing decades in which a marital bond kept the families permanently linked? 

 

Nobody knew the impact he would have on the family, and they on him during his determined journey to discover what the world needed to know. 

 

In the Winteler home, Jost and his wife, Pauline, were more than mere hosts to Albert. Referring to them as ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’, they greatly impacted his interpersonal and philosophical maturation and gave him a second family where he was unconditionally treated like a son. Albert could hardly have found a better place to benefit from the father-like figure and mentor in Jost. Their countless hours of engaging discourse during walks or at the dinner table provided Albert with invaluable insights, influencing both his personal reflections and his scientific achievements. 

 

His strong bond to the Wintelers naturally led to an affectionate link with his family. His sister Maja married son Paul Winteler, and Albert’s best friend Michele Besso married daughter Anna Winteler. 

 

The story told thus far of Albert Einstein and his first and only true love with the Winteler daughter Marie, is far from complete.

 

 

 

It was all pure circumstance when I was a university student.

 

It all started when one day I was telling my maternal grandmother about my university courses, which were all math and science. I picked up one of my textbooks and showed her. It was called Special Relativity – Albert Einstein’s infamous scientific theory on space and time. After outlining the subject matter to her, she casually commented, “You know, there is a family connection to Albert Einstein.” I waited for her to start laughing. 

 

My eyebrows raised. “What? How could we possibly be related?” I asked disbelievingly. 

 

She mentioned Switzerland and that handwritten letters were often exchanged between family members on both sides. She had spoken with family who had communicated with Albert. Instantly, I opened the textbook and wrote verbatim what she told me on the inside cover. I had never forgotten about it and gathered more information over time.

 

 

For years, I was satisfied collecting pieces of the story and sharing the intrigue with family and friends. Often, I contemplated writing the story, but quickly dismissed it. I told myself ‘I’m not a writer.’. Then, after sharing some facts over lunch with a few people I had just met, a fire lit under me. Their interest made me realize there was a story worth sharing. My passion as a family member became my fuel for the work.

 

I sat down and started writing everything I knew for days. The more I wrote, the more questions I had. The more questions I had, the more work I had. Anecdotal family information, translation from German of countless handwritten letters, family photos, publications, hours in the archives, and other information helped piece the main stories together. Some gaps remain and are lost to history, sadly, also due to the intentional destruction of some letters by Albert and Marie. 

 

The stories in this book share actual translated dialogue and describe circumstances between the Winteler and Einstein families as their personal lives moved forward over several decades. The genius was also a matchmaker – connecting hearts into matrimony while personally breaking others. After achieving world notoriety, Albert displayed generosity toward family in hard times, of which there were many.

 

 

I climbed the four steps of the Winteler house in Aarau, Switzerland, that I had seen in an old photo. Albert and five Winteler family members had posed for that photo sometime after his move in October of 1895. As I stood there, I remembered a scene in Ron Howard’s TV series, Genius, that portrayed a scene in front of the house: no, you cannot see the snow-capped Alps from there. 

 

I looked for a doorbell – there was none; but, I saw a sign indicating an engineering company operated here. “Look, an engineering firm”, I exclaimed to my friend, Richard, who accompanied me. “How ironic!” I exclaimed. He and I had been physics students together in university.  We first met at the very first lecture of a physics course. What course? Special Relativity! 

 

I couldn’t stop grinning!

 

I took a breath and then knocked on the door, lightly. I had expected to be kindly refused entry. I had, after all, shown up at the door unannounced at the house of what was now used by a private business. I knocked a second time. The door opened, and I was greeted by a young man. After I clumsily tried to explain who I was and why I was there, I was warmly welcomed inside, just as Albert Einstein was almost one and a half centuries ago. 

 

Join me now as we start in the place where the lives of the Wintelers and the Einsteins were irrevocably entwined, for better or worse.