Every family has a rotten relative, a black sheep, the one relation you avoid above all others.

Even Adolf Hitler.

Yes, the personification of Evil had a relative he couldn't stand.

And that relative was an American.

How did that happen? Blame it on the warped mess that was the Hitler Family.

Adolf's dad, Alois, was married multiple times. His mom was Mrs. Hitler #3. Alois Junior was born to Mrs. Hitler #2. Seven years older than the future Fuhrer, the two half-brothers hated each other. After a fight, 14-year-old Junior left home.

He wound up in Ireland and was twice jailed for stealing. Then he eloped with 18-year-old Bridget Dowling.

The Hitlers settled in Liverpool, where William Patrick Hitler arrived in 1911. Alois Jr. ran a restaurant, boarding house and small hotel. They all failed. He slithered off to Germany in 1914 without saying goodbye to Bridget and little Willie. He married a German woman (without getting a divorce) and had another son.

Alois Jr. begged Bridget to let Willie visit him in Germany. In 1929, she finally did.

Willie was amazed to discover his Uncle Adolf was a German political star and eagerly followed his rise to power. Not because he was a Nazi, but because Willie saw a golden opportunity for Willie Hitler.

Rushing to Berlin when his uncle became chancellor, he made a nuisance of himself, ceaselessly throwing around the name Hitler. And in 1933 Germany, that got Willie lots of attention.

He was coarse, uncouth, a Liverpool lout. He fancied himself a ladies’ man who wooed women with, “The Fuhrer is my uncle, and I want to sleep with you.”

Believe it or not, that line worked in the dictatorship more often than you’d think.

But Willie’s lust extended beyond bedhopping.

He badgered his uncle for work. Adolf got the British Hitler a gig working in a big German bank. Finance wasn’t Willie’s thing, so he pestered his uncle again. A few phone calls from the Reich Chancellery, and Willie was working in a car plant. When that wouldn’t do, Adolf got Willie yet another job selling cars. He probably modified his pickup line to, “The Fuhrer is my uncle; want to buy this car?”

Hitler was embarrassed by his sorry excuse of a nephew. Here he was, plotting world domination and genocide, and he repeatedly had to interrupt things to tend to Willie. Why did he put up with him?

Because Adolf Hitler was afraid of William Patrick Hitler. Willie was blackmailing his uncle. Whenever he wanted something, he sent Der Furher a letter saying he knew a family secret and would spill the beans unless his “personal circumstances” improved.

And here’s the amazing part: Adolf Hitler always gave in. He was terrified the youth possessed the one thing that could topple him from power: proof that the Hitler family had Jewish blood. That would have been fatal for the head of a regime founded on antisemitism.

In reality, the only dirt Willie had was the story of Alois Junior’s bigamy.

So, why didn’t Willie Hitler just disappear? Plenty of people in Berlin did in those days. But Willie couldn’t. He had plastered his name, and the fact that he was a British citizen, too widely around the German capital. His was the only door the Gestapo couldn’t break down in the middle of the night.

Hitler’s patience eventually ran out. In 1938, he offered Willie a deal. If the nephew would renounce his British citizenship, he would be guaranteed a lucrative executive job.

Willie smelled a trap and realized he had pushed his luck as far as he dared. He secretly fled to London. But he wasn’t finished milking the family name.

He wrote an article for Look magazine called “Why I Hate My Uncle,” followed by a U.S. lecture tour. Mamma Bridget joined him in 1939. It went well… until World War II began.

The British Hitlers were stranded in New York. Things grew worse on December 11, 1941, when Adolf declared war on America.

William Patrick Hitler appealed to President Franklin Roosevelt, asking for help. FDR had Willie investigated. When U.S. intelligence confirmed that Willie wasn’t a threat, Roosevelt approved Hitler’s enlistment in the Navy. The propaganda value was immense.

Willie served as a pharmacist’s mate and received a Purple Heart before being discharged. But civilian life was radically different from what he had known before.

Post-war Americans didn’t want to hear about Adolf Hitler anymore. They were appalled by his atrocities. Willie’s “I hate my uncle” cottage industry was replaced by fear someone might kill him in retaliation for the Holocaust. Suddenly, being a Hitler was a dangerous liability.

So, Willie changed his name to William Patrick Stuart-Houston, settled on Long Island, opened a medical lab in his home and kept a low profile. He married a German-born woman and had four sons. When he died in 1987, he was quietly buried beside Bridget.

One final, haunting fact remains: Willie named his firstborn son William Adolf. If he hated his uncle so much, why perpetuate his name?

Just who was William Patrick Hitler, and what did he really think of his relative? We’ll never really know. But this much is certain: Adolf Hitler truly got the nephew he deserved.

Have comments, questions or suggestions you’d like to share with Mark? Message him at jmp.press@gmail.com.