I was born during the war, on October 20, 1942, as the second of five children. My father, Rolf Volhard, was an architect.
The youthful vibe Nashville exudes is intoxicating and contagious, especially amongst the culinary scene, which lures so many great young chefs to places like City House and Rolf and Daughters.
You come to me and it's my job to make you look the best you can look. From an image point of view, would I prefer to dress Jude Law instead of Rolf Harris? Of course. But it's my job to make them both look great.
Ingrid Harrer: [in a letter] Dear Heinrich. Please sign the divorce papers and send them to my lawyer. Horst and I intend to be married as soon as the divorce is finalized. As for your letter, yes, your son Rolf Harrer was born while you were climbing the mountain. He is now two years old and calls Horst papa. When he is old enough I'll tell him his real father was lost in the
Himalayas. It seems the kindest thing to say since you never wanted the child anyway. Needless to say I have to intentions resolving our differences as you suggested. They were resolved the moment you left Austria. I'm sorry you have been imprisoned in India and hope this dreadful war will soon be over for everyone's sake.