As I made my way through the utterly empty, snow-covered streets and approached the dark-blue house on the corner, I felt a twinge of trepidation.
I am Jewish, which heightened the sense of foreboding as I prepared to show up unannounced at the home of a man accused of being a secret Nazi.
When 85-year-old Juergen Steinmetz opened the door, he spoke in a faint German accent, soft-spoken and polite as he invited me inside.
He made me feel welcome - even after I explained why I was there.
Steinmetz made headlines after being sued by a couple who bought his historic five-bedroom home in Beaver County, Pennsylvania, where he had lived for half a century.
The new owners purchased the property in 2023 for $500,000 but were horrified to discover basement tiling that appeared to form a swastika and a Nazi eagle.
Steinmetz - a first-generation German immigrant who arrived in the US aged five - appeared entirely unfazed by the media attention, instead seeming to enjoy the fact an unexpected visitor had shown up at his new home in Cleveland, Ohio, where he moved to be closer to his adult son after the death of his wife.
The couple who sued Steinmetz claimed he concealed the symbols and said that, had they known they were there, they never would have bought the house.
The case was dismissed, however. Steinmetz described it as 'just a nonsensical bunch of garbage.' 'I am just glad all that nonsense is over with and that chapter is closed,' he said.
I made my way through the utterly empty snow-covered streets in Cleveland, Ohio, to look for the man accused of being a secret Nazi.
As we sat down in his living room, I asked him outright if he was a Nazi.
Steinmetz adjusted his hearing aide awkwardly before answering in a calm and firm tone: 'No, not at all.'
He added: 'Everybody has their opinion... but anyone who thinks that must have tunnel vision. That is my conclusion.'
Steinmetz pointed to his love for the diversity and openness of America as evidence he was not a bigot.
After fleeing war-torn Germany as a boy with his mother and brothers, Steinmetz made his way to Czechoslovakia before setting sail for America.
They eventually settled in Florida. One of his fondest childhood memories in his new country, he said, was that Americans would give him chocolates.
After he graduated high school he joined the US Army.
Steinmetz explained that the symbols in his basement had been painted over tiles as part of a joke when he was 'a young fella.'
At the time, he had been a pilot and had recently moved from Florida to Pennsylvania for a new job based out of Pittsburgh Airport.
'I never did the symbol as protest, just did it based on a book I was reading,' he said.
As a Jewish woman, there was some unease as I approached the dark blue house on the corner.
After fleeing war-torn Germany as a boy with his mother and brothers, Steinmetz made his way to Czechoslovakia before setting sail for America.
Two copies of Mein Kampf and The Rise and Fall of The Third Reich (in black with the Nazi symbol) sit prominently on his bookshelf—part of his fascination with the history of his homeland.
Born in Hamburg in 1941, Steinmetz recalled fleeing Germany as a child and the bombings which created his fascination with history.
'I was young. I was interested in history. I was a little rabble rouser. That was the type of guy I was,' he said.
He knew the symbols were controversial and that was part of the allure when he painted the tiles. But he claimed he 'subverted' their meaning.
'I knew what it was. I made sure I put it [the swastika] in backwards to make sure it wasn't the Nazi symbol,' he said.
Beyond his fascination, Steinmetz suggested the tiling was also some sort of innocent decorative decision.
'I liked to break up the monotony and I liked to show off,' he said.
Sitting in his living room by a wall of books, my eye caught at the corner a Nazi symbol beside two well-read copies of Mein Kampf and a black book with the swastika on it—which I would later learn is The Rise and Fall of The Third Reich by William Shirer.
Before I said anything, Steinmetz continued to defend his actions.
The tiles had been purchased at a clearance sale and he remembered thinking, 'What am I going to do with that?'
He eventually installed them on a portion of the basement floor, painted the symbols, and later covered them with a rug then 'forgot about it' for 50 years.
I bring his attention back to the books, to which Steinmetz said they were for self-education.
'I have all kinds of books on all different things. My mind is always wandering all over the world, and I am interested in everything.'
He gestured to his eclectic collection: history, aviation, travel, computers, National Geographic from 1911-2015, books on George Washington, the British militia, Revolutionary War accounts and atlases.
He talked about how much he hated conflict. 'War is hell,' he said. 'I know about war; we were all over the place,' he said referencing how his family became refugees.
Steinmetz, who lived with his wife Ingrid in their Pennsylvania cottage with their three children since 1975, placed the home on the market after her death in 2022.
The new owners - Daniel and Lynne Rae Wentworth - had their dream home and Steinmetz moved to Cleveland to be closer to his adult son.
Six months after the sale, however, he was hit with a lawsuit accusing him of violating the Pennsylvania Real Estate Seller Disclosure Law.
The Wentworth's claimed he concealed the Nazi symbols and did not disclose them when they were buying the property.
According to court filings, the cost to replace the floor would exceed $30,000 and the imagery was so offensive that the couple could not reasonably live there.
Steinmetz maintained he never lied about the symbols and argued they were not as offensive as claimed.
The Pennsylvania Superior Court dismissed the couple's case.
The judges wrote: 'A basement that floods, a roof that leaks, beams damaged by termites... these are the conditions our legislature requires sellers to disclose if known.'
Steinmetz ended up in Florida with his mother where he later met his wife Ingrid who was also of German-descent.
The couple eventually wed and moved to Pennsylvania where Steinmetz worked as a pilot.
He flew multiple aircraft retiring at 55 after 28 years. His home reflects a life spent in flight: photos of planes models on dining room table and basement workshop full of tools.
In retirement he and his wife traveled the US in an RV. ‘It was some of the best time of my life,’ he said.
Steinmetz, who called his family home his ‘castle’ loved it so much that he created a book called ‘Our House in Beaver’ which he gifted to his wife in 2016 for her birthday.
Now, in his new home Steinmetz—who is still learning how to live without his life partner—enjoyed the visit and his walk down memory lane on what otherwise would have just been a quiet Thursday.