Herman passed away as his daughter, Robin, listened over the phone. She heard the medical providers trying to keep him alive. He’d been her best friend.

As she later said, “I begged God to let me know he was reunited with his family.”

Robin soon drove to her hometown to be with loved ones. She went to her usual hotel and requested her usual first-floor room—her son’s struggle with autism and cerebral palsy made elevators and stairs difficult—but there were no ground-level accommodations available. She reluctantly accepted a second-floor room.

As Robin and her son left their hotel the next morning, she looked back and noticed they’d stayed in Room 213. Her prayer had been answered. In her mind, she saw her father at his childhood address, 213 west Lyndale.

Herman was home.