Even the German music of Beethoven and Brahms, which had been assumed to be immune to the hysteria, came under attack. “It is the music of conquest, the music of the storm, of disorder and devastation,” wrote The Los Angeles Times in June 1918. “It is a combination of the howl of the cave man and the roaring of the north winds.” Sheet music, along with books by German authors, was burned in public spectacles.

Not surprisingly, those who could hid their Germanic roots; some switched their names; many others canceled their subscriptions to German newspapers, which virtually disappeared. Whatever vestige of German America remained after the 1910s was wiped out by similar pressures during World War II, not to mention the shame that came with German identity after it.

My grandfather Joseph Kirschbaum lived through this disruption. Born in New York to German immigrant parents in 1891, he didn’t start learning English until he went to school, and continued to speak German at home, with friends and in the shops and restaurants he would frequent with his parents. And yet, later in life, he claimed he couldn’t remember any of it.

In some parts of the United States, there might be appeals by politicians to win over the Hispanic-American vote, the Italian-American vote, the Jewish-American vote, the African-American vote or the Irish-American vote. But you will be hard-pressed to hear anyone — not even the speaker of the House, John A. Boehner, who has never tried to make any hay out of his German roots — canvassing for the support of the German-American vote.

Still, while German-American culture might be extinct, German-Americans have continued to make a mark on the country, from Neil Armstrong, the astronaut, to Robert B. Zoellick, a former president of the World Bank. Steinway pianos were first made by a German immigrant named Heinrich Steinweg (who became Henry Steinway). Chrysler was established by Walter P. Chrysler, whose family was of German descent, and Boeing was founded by William E. Boeing, the son of a German immigrant.

Yet as the centennial of World War I passes and the 25th anniversary of German unification nears, there are some tender shoots of a renascent German-American identity. A German-American congressional caucus was created in 2010 and now has 93 members. The popularity of craft beer has led to a resurgence in German-style Biergartens, while sports figures like the soccer coach Jürgen Klinsmann and the N.B.A. all-star Dirk Nowitzki celebrate their German identity.

It may be that an identity lost can never be regained. But why not try? It would be good for everyone, reminding millions of Americans that they too are the products of an immigrant culture, which not long ago was forced into silence by fear and intolerance.