As a child I once visited, with my mother, some new friends that she had made. They were European immigrants.
Bored, I wandered around the room. In their small glass-fronted bookcase, I was surprised to see a copy of "Mein Kampf" in pride of place.
I didn't mention this to my mother, but as she was rather pro-communist at that stage it seems little wonder that the friendship did not develop. Though I believe they may have had a certain authoritarianism in common.
Years later I mentioned this to a friend of long standing. I knew that he was born in Germany during WW2, and that his father had been in the German army. However, I was surprised by the vehemence of his reaction. His mother, (a very beautiful woman), had worked closely with Hitler, he said - (some of her best friends were Jewish, he defended her). Why shouldn't they have a book that had meant so much to them? A book that was as precious to them as a bible?
Taken aback, I didn't ask further. But it still intrigues me that they valued so highly something which I thought was completely discredited.
Other immigrants I came across: Italian and Maltese. Bare footed, poor, impetigo scaling down their legs, school lunches of a hunk of bread and a raw onion. Some of their surnames are now blazened over hugely successful and well-known businesses.