MAKING A DIFFERENCE: "His Tail's Wagging Again!"

Ailing Dog's Life Saved By

Donations After Viral Photo

of John Unger & Schoep

Touches Millions

Last month, the above photo of John Unger cradling his loyal dog, Schoep, in Michigan's Lake Superior melted hearts across the world. Unger had take Schoep into the lake so that the water could soothe the arthritic 19-year-old dog to sleep.   Empathetic readers felt compelled to send cards, dog treats, messages of support, and money to Unger and his ailing pet, resulting in over $25,000 in donations.  

Only two months ago, Schoep was facing euthanasia because Unger could not afford his medical bills; the worldwide reaction to their relationship, however, has given him a second chance at life.  Schoep is now receiving weekly laser therapy, pain medication and glucosamine — all with encouraging results.

 

That stunning photograph of John lulling his arthritic dog to sleep in Lake Superior has touched so many people that John Unger, 49, and his dog Schoep,  have started a foundation to help other dogs in need. The Schoep Legacy Foundation has raised more than $25,000 to help low-income families care for their aging dogs thanks to donations from people as far away as Saudi Arabia and Japan, all inspired by that gorgeous image.

Unger's good friend Hannah Stonehouse Hudson, who is a professional photographer, captured the heartbreaking moment between the man and his aging rescue dog in Wisconsin when Unger thought his best friend was at the end of his life.

Thanks to the generosity of strangers, Schoep has been receiving top-notch care and is wagging his tail more than ever before, allowing Unger and his dog more time together. 'Schoep is doing incredible right now,' Unger said to MailOnline. 'The therapies that the people have donated — it's like turning back the clock a year and a half.'

Dr. Erik Haukass, Schoep's veterinarian, said that the 19-year-old dog is doing very well and that they are optimistic the treatments will allow Unger and Schoep many more months. 'Without treatment, John and I were talking about euthanasia at the end of July,' Dr. Haukass said.

Dr. Haukass was on the front line when the donations to Schoep's care came in, shocked by their magnitude. 'I've never seen anything like this before,' he said. 'We realized we had received more money than we would reasonably spend on Schoep's care.' Together with Unger and Mrs. Hudson, the three formed Schoep's Legacy Foundation.

'The idea is to pay it forward; give it to other organizations, to help out other animals in the area and use the money in the spirit it was given,' Dr. Haukass said. The $25,000 will be used in a variety of ways to help low-income families care for their animals, both in the care of older pets and the spaying and neutering of new pets. 'It could help another 30 or 40 Schoeps,' Dr. Haukass said. 'It's incredible to be in a position to help others,' Unger said.

But beyond helping other animals, Unger said that he's found himself counseling people who have had to deal with a devastating loss in their lives. Along with donations, people have been sending Unger their personal stories of woe. 'They're going through some depression of their own. They're very deep and emotional letters. Those are the ones that hit home a lot,' Unger said. 'But they look at the picture that Hannah took and it helps them have a better time with it. That's pretty extraordinary.'

Unger knows firsthand about love and loss. He and his ex-fiancée adopted Schoep 19 years ago, but when the relationship ended, Unger was on the brink of suicide. 'To be honest with you, I don’t think I’d be here if I didn’t have Schoep with me (that night). He just snapped me out of it. I don’t know how to explain it. He just snapped me out of it. … I just want to do whatever I can for this dog because he basically saved my ass,' he said.

PUPPY LOVE: HOW JOHN & SCHOEP
BECAME BEST FRIENDS

John Unger, 49, adopted Schoep, who is named after a famous brand of Wisconsin ice cream, when he was just a puppy and it was love at first sight. He and his ex-fiancée had been searching for a rescue dog for a year, going to dozens of humane societies. 'We wanted every single dog,' Unger said to the MailOnline. 'We just hadn't found the right one.'

His then-fiancée spotted the pup at the Ozaukee Animal Shelter 19 years ago. 'We fell in love with him immediately.' Schoep was in a cage with another dog, possibly his mother, crouched in the back quietly staring at the corner with his back to Unger. 'I knew — that's him,' Unger said.

At the time Schoep was named Tramp by the shelter staff and showed signs of abuse. 'He didn't even know what toys were,' Unger said. 'I really wanted this dog because I wanted him to enjoy life.'  The couple worked hard to establish the trust of the dog and eventually brought out its 'full potential'.

Now, 19 years later when Schoep was in so much pain, it was Unger's time to return the favor. Suffering from excruciating arthritis, the animal was not sleeping through the night and could barely walk.

‘Schoep falls asleep every night when he is carried into the lake. The buoyancy of the water soothes his arthritic bones. Lake Superior is very warm right now, so the temp of the water is perfect,' Mrs. Hudson explained.

Unger could not afford the costly treatments, which at $200 dollars a session, would ease Schoep's pain. But after Mrs. Hudson's photograph traveled across the world, thousands of dollars came pouring in.

Schoep has been getting joint laser treatments, which reduce pain and swelling while healing the animal's limbs, as well as pain medication from the Bay Area Animal Hospital.

'He's walking so much faster,' Mr Unger said. 'His stride, his gait, is longer. It's unbelievable.'

Dr. Haukass has also seen a change in the animal. 'He sleeps through the night. He's interested in going for more walks during the day,' Dr. Haukass said. 'He walks with less of a limp. His ears are standing up and his tail is wagging better.'

JOHN AND SCHOEP: 

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTOGRAPH

 Inspired: This image has touched thousands After professional photographer Hannah Stonehouse Hudson took this photo of her friend John Unger and his 19-year-old  rescue dog, Shoep, taking one of their therapeutic evening swims in Lake Superior, she posted it on Facebook and it went viral. 
Courtesy of Hannah Stonehouse
 Hudson/StonehousePhoto.com

 'I took Schoep in for a check up because he was limping,' Unger said. The doctor recommend pain medication, but said that it may be temporary or not help at all. Then, Unger said, the doctor told him, ' "If there isn't any improvement, we should probably..." a good vet won't say "put him down," but he said at that point I may start to want to think about it.'

Faced with the possibility of losing his best friend, he called up Mrs. Hudson for an impromptu session. She met the pair at sunset on Lake Superior, because Schoep's cataracts prevent him from seeing in sunlight.

'She couldn't believe he fell asleep in my arms,' Unger said. Mrs. Hudson watched the man and his dog float around the lake for maybe five minutes before Schoep began to get cold and shake. Unger said he had to take him out of the water to let him warm up and was worried she hadn't had the chance to snap an image. 'I didn't think she even took one picture,' he said. 'But then she told me she got what she wanted.'

Schoep Today 

"It's our turn to give back," Unger told Yahoo News. To honor the outpouring of support that they received, Unger began the Schoep Legacy Foundation for other struggling pet owners. http://www.johnandschoep.com/

VIDEO: 
 http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/dog-photo-schoep-arthritic-lake-180953849.html

MOMENTS THAT MATTER: Take A Gander

Travelers Find Warmth in the

Frozen North on 9.11.2001

GANDER, Newfoundland — It could have been a short, sweet story: planes get diverted, local people pitch in to help stranded passengers. Polite thank-you letters and gifts follow.

What happened in Newfoundland in one terrifying week in September was all that. But in the months that followed, the story continued to grow. Here and in scattered hamlets for miles around, everyone has a part of it to tell — how half a dozen or so isolated communities had been embraced by strangers who dropped from the sky and changed their lives.

Greg King was there when it started. As an air traffic controller, he was on duty on Sept. 11 at Gander, once the hub of North Atlantic air travel, but now an airport that sees few commercial aircraft on the ground while still directing them overhead. Late that morning, when he was preparing for the daily ''wall of airplanes'' from Europe heading for arrivals in New York and other cities, Mr. King suddenly received an order to shut down the sky.
 

DIVERTED: Planes line up on the runway of the
Gander, Newfoundland, Canada airport on September 12, 2001

Thirty-eight planes were told to land immediately, and for a couple of hours Mr. King barely had time to call his wife and say he would be bringing strangers home for the night. At some point, he recalls, he also registered a fleeting image of an Air France Boeing 747 ''bigger than the airport terminal.''

Gander, a town of 10,000 people with 550 hotel rooms, had to find beds and food for 6,579 passengers and crew members. Other airstrip towns in Newfoundland and Labrador also had unexpected company, but not on this scale.

"This never happened before in the history of aviation,'' said Terry Parsons, chairman of the Gander International Airport Authority. Fortunately, Gander -- created as a military airfield and a trans-Atlantic refueling point in the 1930's -- has a long runway, and a disaster plan. It also has churches, service clubs, doctors and shop owners with small-town, good-neighbor values long out of date in many places, including other parts of Canada. 

 The people of Gander also opened their homes and
welcomed strangers the way they welcome, well, everyone. 

''We're used to helping people,'' said Mayor Claude Elliott, speaking of a region that lives with rough seas, harsh weather and an uncertain economy. ''I guess our biggest problem was trying to explain to people where they were.''

 Jake Turner, the town manager, went into action as soon as the planes started landing. Des Dillon of the Canadian Red Cross was asked to round up beds, along with Maj. Ron Stuckless of the Salvation Army, who also became the coordinator of a mass collection of food that emptied refrigerators for miles around.

Employees from the local co-op supermarket arrived with a refrigerated truck full of meat and other provisions. At St. Martin's Anglican Church, Hilda Goodyear spent 48 mostly sleepless hours organizing bedding and priming the parish hall's kitchen for a Lufthansa flight.

 When 6700 passengers arrived in Gander, townspeople

 immediately brought food to the Community Center to feed them.

People from as far away as Twillingate, an island off the Kittiwake Coast of Newfoundland, prepared enough sandwiches and soup for at least 200 people and drove an hour and a half to Gander to deliver it to dazed and frightened passengers being herded off planes without luggage and under intense scrutiny.

Responding to radio announcements, the residents and businesses of Gander and other towns supplied toothbrushes, deodorant, soap, blankets and even spare underwear, along with offers of hot showers and guest rooms.

There were some with special needs. Carl and Ethna Smith found kosher food through an airport caterer and a new set of kitchenware for an orthodox Jewish family from New York. At the Gander Baptist Church, Gary and Donna House dealt with the needs of four Moldovan refugee families, members of a religious sect who spoke no English and were bewildered by events. 

 The local Gander phone company set up banks of free telephones so stranded passengers could stay in touch with loved ones back home following the 9/11 tragedy.

Newtel Communications, the telephone company, set up phone banks for passengers to call home. Local television cable companies wired schools and church halls, where passengers watched events unfolding in New York and realized how lucky they were.

The passengers, who left with tears and hugs, have responded with their own astonishing acts of generosity. Lewisporte, a seaside town where 4,000 people made room for 773 unexpected guests, received new lighting for the Anglican church and a scholarship fund worth $19,000 ''and still growing'' said the mayor, Bill Hooper. 

 
Those five days in September, and the stream of e-mail messages, gifts, photographs and invitations that still pour in, have given an incalculable lift to the Newfoundlanders. ''It gave the people a sense of self-worth,'' said Mr. House, a retired teacher and school librarian. ''Newfoundlanders have often felt put down. They speak funny. There are all those 'goofy Newfie' jokes.

Other towns in Newfoundland and Labrador (and across Canada) also took in temporarily displaced passengers with hospitality that day and are equally deserving of our gratitude.

------------

Plenty of grateful Americans who passed through Gander that day took the opportunity to pen appreciative letters similar to the one quoted above when they returned home, such as the following letter to the editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer:

 
We were flying home from a wonderful vacation in Paris and were about an hour from Newark when an announcement was made that terrorists had attacked New York and Washington and our flight was being diverted to Gander, Newfoundland.

We were the fourth of 38 planes to land in Gander and were kept on the plane for seven hours. Then we proceeded to immigration, where many compassionate people met us. An unidentified woman approached and put her arm around us and wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help us. At this point we were greatly concerned about our two sons who work in Manhattan. She took us to a phone, where we called our oldest son, who assured us that he and his brother were safe. 

 Schools, fire stations and even church halls were converted 

into temporary dormitories when 6700 passengers were 

stranded in Gander by September 11th.

From there we were put on school buses and taken to the College of the North Atlantic. Many ordinary, caring people met us and made all 300 passengers feel welcome. We were given blankets and pillows from their homes. We stayed for two nights and three days. We slept on the floor, as cots could not be rounded up fast enough. We shared our classroom with 18 others and a dog.

Everyone was extraordinarily thoughtful of each other. One woman must have put her life on hold and was constantly checking on us. She even came to the airport when we finally left to make sure we all were fine. I never saw her without a smile. 

The lady who ran the cafeteria along with many neighbors made hot meals and brought in casseroles each day. Students helped us to use e-mail, and we were able to use the phone to call our family. No organization with financial backing was behind this — this was a call to neighbors and friends to come and help those of us in need.

We will never be able to think of Gander, Newfoundland, without remembering all the goodness and kindness that was showered upon us by our neighbors and friends from Canada.

------------------

Here's a letter written by Nazim, a flight attendant on Delta Flight 15, written after 9-11:

We were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt flying over the North Atlantic and I was in my crew rest seat taking my scheduled rest break. All of a sudden the curtains parted violently and I was told to go to the cockpit, right now, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed the crew had one of those "All Business" looks on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. I quickly read the message and realized the importance of it. The message was from Atlanta, addressed to our flight, and simply said, "All airways over the Continental US are closed. Land ASAP at the nearest airport, advise your destination."

Now, when a dispatcher tells you to land immediately without suggesting which airport, one can assume that the dispatcher has reluctantly given up control of the flight to the captain. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find terra firma quickly. It was quickly decided that the nearest airport was 400 miles away, behind our right shoulder, in Gander, on the island of New Foundland.

A quick request was made to the Canadian traffic controller and a right turn, directly to Gander, was approved immediately. We found out later why there was no hesitation by the Canadian controller approving our request. We, the in-flight crew, were told to get the airplane ready for an immediate landing. While this was going on another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. We briefed the in-flight crew about going to Gander and we went about our business 'closing down' the airplane for a landing. 

A few minutes later I went back to the cockpit to find out that some airplanes had been hijacked and were being flown into buildings all over the US. We decided to make an announcement and LIE to the passengers for the time being. We told them that an instrument problem had arisen on the airplane and that we needed to land at Gander, to have it checked. We promised to give more information after landing in Gander. There were many unhappy passengers but that is par for the course.

We landed in Gander about 40 minutes after the start of this episode. There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world. After we parked on the ramp the captain made the following announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. But the reality is that we are here for a good reason." Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the US. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. Local time at Gander was 12:30 pm. (11:00 AM EST)

Gander control told us to stay put. No one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near the aircraft. Only a car from the airport police would come around once in a while, look us over and go on to the next airplane. In the next hour or so all the airways over the North Atlantic were vacated and Gander alone ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, out of which 27 were flying US flags. 

We were told that each and every plane was to be offloaded, one at a time, with the foreign carriers given the priority. We were No. 14 in the US category. We were further told that we would be given a tentative time to deplane at 6 pm. Meanwhile bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC.

People were trying to use their cell phones but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada. Some did get through but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the US were either blocked or jammed and to try again. Some time late in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash.

Now the passengers were totally bewildered and emotionally exhausted but stayed calm as we kept reminding them to look around to see that we were not the only ones in this predicament. There were 52 other planes with people on them in the same situation. We also told them that the Canadian Government was in charge and we were at their mercy. True to their word, at 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would come at 11 AM, the next morning. That took the last wind out of the passengers and they simply resigned and accepted this news without much noise and really started to get into a mode of spending the night on the airplane.

Fortunately we had no medical situation during the night. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without any further complications on our airplane despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th we were told to get ready to leave the aircraft. 

 A convoy of school buses showed up at the side of the airplane, the stairway was hooked up and the passengers were taken to the terminal for "processing" We, the crew, were taken to the same terminal but were told to go to a different section, where we were processed through Immigration and customs and then had to register with the Red Cross. After that we were isolated from our passengers and were taken in a caravan of vans to a very small hotel in the town of Gander. We had no idea where our passengers were going.

The town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people. Red Cross told us that they were going to process about 10,500 passengers from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander. We were told to just relax at the hotel and wait for a call to go back to the airport, but not to expect that call for a while. We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV,

24 hours after it all started. Meanwhile we enjoyed ourselves going around town discovering things and enjoying the hospitality. The people were so friendly and they just knew that we were the "Plane people". We all had a great time until we got that call, 2 days later, on the 14th at 7 AM. We made it to the airport by 8:30 AM and left for Atlanta at 12:30 PM arriving in Atlanta at about 4:30 PM. (Gander is 1 hour and 30 minutes ahead of EST, yes!, 1 hour and 30 minutes.) But that's not what I wanted to tell you. What passengers told us was so uplifting and incredible and the timing couldn't have been better.

We found out that Gander and the surrounding small communities, within a 75 Kilometer radius, had closed all the high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to a mass lodging area. Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up. ALL the high school students HAD to volunteer taking care of the "GUESTS". 

Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 Kilometers from Gander. There they were put in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women only facility, that was arranged. Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were given no choice and were taken to private homes. Remember that young pregnant lady, she was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24 hour Urgent Care type facility. There were DDS on call and they had both male and female nurses available and stayed with the crowd for the duration. Phone calls and emails to US and Europe were available for every one once a day.

During the days the passengers were given a choice of "Excursion" trips. Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went to see the local forests. Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests. Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the school for those who elected to stay put. Others were driven to the eatery of their choice and fed. They were given tokens to go to the local Laundromat to wash their clothes, since their luggage was still on the aircraft.

In other words every single need was met for those unfortunate travelers. Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. After all that, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single one missing or late. All because the local Red Cross had all the information about the goings on back at Gander and knew which group needed to leave for the airport at what time. Absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everybody knew everybody else by their name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. It was mind boggling. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a party flight. We simply stayed out of their way. The passengers had totally bonded and they were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses. And then a strange thing happened. One of our business class passengers approached me and asked if he could speak over the PA to his fellow passengers. We never, never, allow that. But something told me to get out of his way. I said "of course".

The gentleman picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days. He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers. He further stated that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of the town of Lewisporte.

He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide a scholarship for high school students of Lewisporte to help them go to college. He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, it totaled to $14.5K or about $20K Canadian. The gentleman who started all this turned out to be an MD from Virginia. He promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a faraway place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them. In spite of all the rotten things we see going on in today’s world this story confirms that there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will come forward.

VIDEO REPORTS:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUmCgQp5iNg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O6mU-5k4kk

CONTRIBUTED BY:
Paz, a dear Inspiration Line reader who lives in the Philippines

REPRINTED FROM:
www.NewYorkTimes.com
www.Snopes.com

BEING THE CHANGE: 'Life Is Beautiful'

Alice Herz-Sommer

108-Year-Old Pianist & Holocaust

Survivor On Conquering Hate

A renowned concert pianist and a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps, Alice Herz-Sommer has packed a lot into her 108 years. At age 83, she had cancer. And despite the tragedy of losing most of her family in the Holocaust, she remains resolutely optimistic.  Alice survived the concentration camps through her music, her optimism and her gratitude for the small things that came her way — a smile, a kind word, the sun. When asked about the secret of her longevity, Alice says: "I look where it is good."

 Alice Herz-Sommer is, I think, the most optimistic person I have ever met. She sits in her armchair in her single-roomed north London flat beaming at the beauty of life and treasuring the moment. She is 108 and cannot quite believe her luck. This is not wholly what you expect as you read the summary of her life. It is true that she is an immensely gifted pianist, who has found great sustenance from her art and who, even now, practices for three hours a day. But she has also experienced more unhappiness than any optimist has a right to expect.

With her Jewish background, she endured the miseries of the Prague ghetto, spent two years in the Theresienstadt (Terezín) concentration camp, where nearly 35,000 prisoners perished. Her husband was moved to Auschwitz in 1944: she never saw him again. She lost many in her extended family and most of the friends she had grown up with.
 

  

At age 104, she had a book written about her life:
"A Garden Of Eden In Hell"   published by Pan Macmillan.

All this she tells, with a near-perfect recall of dates, names and places. If she was ever bitter about the hardships she endured or the losses she suffered, it is all wiped clean. Instead, there is an almost evangelical zeal in communicating the necessity of optimism.

She lives on her own in Belsize Park. Until she was 97 she went swimming every day at the pool in nearby Swiss Cottage. Her daily routine still involves playing the piano from 10 am to 1pm. Her musical memory is, she says, still excellent. She begins by playing a Bach prelude before working her way through the repertoire — Schubert, Beethoven and so on — which she has always played. Twice a month she plays with a violinist and occasionally trios with her daughter in law, a cellist.

Her story begins in 1903, the year she was born in German-speaking Prague, then still part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Her mother came from a musical Moravian family and was a childhood friend of Gustav Mahler. Sommer remembers hearing the first performance of Mahler's second symphony in Prague when she was about eight. "Still now when I listen to Mahler my mother is next to me," she says. 

As a young girl, she knew Franz Kafka — he was the best friend of her elder sister's husband. “He was a pessimistic man,” Alice said with a smile, as if she was talking of an incident that had happened yesterday. “But he made up stories for us!”

Alice Herz-Sommer with Kafka. When a person experienced that world as she did growing up – tagging along to the weekly meetings of Franz Kafka’s writing group, being friendly with Gustav Mahler’s family, having Sigmund Freud visit her house – her impulse to redeem the promise of late Habsburg Prague is easy to understand. She acknowledges the limits of that society, its failure to protect many of its most talented inhabitants. But she finds it more productive to acknowledge the capacity for good and evil in all human beings than to stereotype them on the basis of their heritage.

She started playing the piano when she was five and was soon taking lessons with a distinguished pupil of Liszt, Conrad Ansorge ("as a pianist, extraordinary, as a teacher, not so good"). Her sister was simultaneously taking lessons from Alexander Zemlinsky, under whom she sang in a performance of Mahler's eighth symphony. By her mid-teens, Alice was giving lessons and touring as a pianist, playing Schumann, Bach, Beethoven, Suk and Smetana.

She met her husband to be, also a musician, in 1931 and married him two weeks later. "He spoke five languages. He was an extremely gifted man, extremely gifted," she says. Their only son, Raphael, who went on to be a concert cellist, was born in 1937.

Everything in this busy, fulfilled and creative life changed in March 1939, when Hitler occupied Czechoslovakia. "This was a hard time for Jews," she says with some understatement. "Nothing was allowed. The food was very poor. We could only buy things for half an hour in the afternoon. We had to give away all our belongings. We were poor, we had nothing. For me the greatest punishment was having to wear the yellow star, here on the left side. When I went on the street my best non-Jewish friends didn't dare to look at me. I didn't know if I should go and speak with them. It was a very, very, very hard time, this I must say."


 
Most Jews were sent to a ghetto, but for a while Sommer, her husband and her son were allowed to stay in their own flat. "Above us was living a Nazi, and beneath us a Nazi."  Then, in 1943,  the three were sent to Theresienstadt. 

"The evening before this we were sitting in our flat. I put off the light because I wanted my child to sleep for the last time in his bed. Now came my Czech friends: they came and they took the remaining pictures, carpets, even furniture. They didn't say anything; we were dead for them, I believe."

And at the last moment the Nazi came — his name was Hermann — with his wife. They bought biscuits and he said, 'Mrs Sommer, I hope you come back with your family. I don't know what to say to you. I enjoyed your playing - such wonderful things, I thank you.' The Nazi was the most human of all."

"When you know history — wars and wars and wars ... It begins with this: that we are born half-good and half-bad - everybody, everybody. And there are situations where the bad comes out and situations where the good comes out. This is the reason why people invented religion, I believe."

The following day the three of them spent an hour and a half on the train to Theresienstadt — bizarrely, a "show camp" for Red Cross inspections and simultaneously a staging post for tens of thousands of inmates who were shipped off to their deaths in other camps. The Red Cross inspectors noted the cultural activity: the inmates included numerous artists, writers and musicians. 

Alice Herz-Sommer: Chopin etudes amid the horrors of the Holocaust  "It's an excellent piano, but it doesn't matter! I played on very bad pianos," she said, tapping her fingers on the table. "It's nice to play a good instrument, but the main thing is what you know. It takes hard work — and you must love it!"

 "We had to play music because the Red Cross came and the Germans were trying to show what a good life we had," says Sommer. "It was our luck, actually. Even so, hundreds and hundreds were dying around us every day. It was a hard time."

They lived in barracks for two years; they were given black water coffee for breakfast, white water soup for lunch and, in the evening, black water soup. "We lost weight. People ask, 'How could you make music?' We were so weak. But music was special, like a spell, I would say. I gave more than 150 concerts there. There were excellent musicians there, really excellent. Violinists, cellists, singers, conductors and composers."

The conductor Rafael Schaechter recruited 150 singers and conducted 15 or more performances of the Verdi Requiem, some of which Sommer sang in. And she gave her own concerts. "I played twice, three times a week. The audience were mostly old people - very ill people and unhappy people - but they came to our concerts and this was their food."

 

As a child Sommer's cellist son Raphael took part in performances of Hans Krasa's children's opera Brundibár, given as part of the Nazis' attempts to show how "normal" life was in Theresienstadt. Out of 15,000 children who were sent to the camp, he was one of only 130 to survive the war.

 
"In 1944, my husband was among thousands who were sent away. His last words to me were, 'You mustn't do anything voluntarily.' I didn't understand what was in his mind. This was on Monday. Three days afterwards, again thousands were sent away, mothers and children of the men who had already been sent. In the second transport the women went voluntarily because they wanted to meet their husbands. They never met them. So my husband saved our lives. He was sent to Auschwitz first and then sent to work in Dachau and, six weeks before the end of the war, he died from typhus. I brought up my son alone."

Does she think she had a particular toughness? "Yah, I tell you something. I had a twin sister — same mother, same father, same upbringing. She was extremely gifted, but a terrible pessimist, but I was the contrary. This is the reason I am so old, even now. I am sure. I am looking for the nice things in life. I know about the bad things, but I look only for the good things. The world is wonderful, it's full of beauty and full of miracles. Our brain, the memory, how does it work? Not to speak of art and music ... It is a miracle."
 
On May 9 1945, the Russian army arrived to relieve the camp. "We knew already that Hitler had lost the war so we expected to be relieved. I remember my brother took his violin and went immediately to Prague. I stayed in the camp for a month or two because I was told there was an epidemic. When I came back home it was very, very painful because nobody else came back. The whole family of my husband, several members of my family, all my friends, all the friends of my family, nobody came back. It was a hard time." 

"Then I realized what Hitler had done. I never spoke a word about it because I didn't want my child to grow up with hatred because hatred brings hatred. I succeeded. My son had very good friends in Germany and they invited him to play and they appreciated him. And I never hated either, never, never."

In 1949, she went to Israel with her sisters and taught music in Tel Aviv. "I must say, when I moved to Israel there was not a day without political tension, but [to experience] democracy! After Hitler and Stalin, you feel what it means. You can read, speak, trust everyone. It was a beautiful life in Israel, inspiring. Musicians, scientists and writers — they all came and lectured. It was a cultural center. I was very happy."

I ask her about her feelings of identity. "My parents were not Jewish. I am not. My husband was not. We are Jewish without religion. I belong to this group because of my ancestors, of course. I understand when we are in a terrible situation we are needing hope. Religion, for me, is a symbol of hope. It helps, this hope." 

At the prompting of her son, she moved to London 20 years ago. Until recently she went to the University of the Third Age three times a week to study history, philosophy and the history of Judaism. She has now stopped because of problems with her back. 

  

She feels very at home in England. "It's because English people are so polite, and this politeness is not superficial. The English respect each other more than others. They are cheerful and helpful and I admire their humor. English humor is not laughing, it is distance. They observe life and always stay stoic. Admirable people. I love them, I love them."

In 2001, Sommer had to endure the grief of losing her cellist son, who died suddenly while on tour, aged 65. She found comfort in playing the piano, and still loves it. "I love work. Work is the best invention, the best. Playing the piano is still a discipline. It makes you happy to have something. The worst thing is boredom. Boredom is dangerous."

Every Saturday, she plays Scrabble with another musical survivor of the camps, the cellist Anita Wallfisch, who played in the Auschwitz camp orchestra. "We don't speak about the past," says Sommer. All her family and friends are dead. "I have never met anyone of this age. Never. When I was young, somebody of 60 was regarded as an old man." 

Does she ask herself why she survived? "My temperament. This optimism and this discipline. Punctually, at 10am, I am sitting there at the piano, with everything in order around me. For 30 years I have eaten the same, fish or chicken. Good soup, and this is all. I don't drink, not tea, not coffee, not alcohol. Hot water. I walk a lot with terrible pains, but after 20 minutes it is much better. Sitting or lying is not good."

"My fingers are not as good as they were, but where it's a problem I change the fingering. I have a very good memory. I start every day with an hour of Bach. I play all the 48 preludes — not the fugues — which is very difficult, even when you try one page without mistakes. After Bach, I play my other pieces in order not to forget."

"In any case, life is beautiful, extremely beautiful. And when you are old you appreciate it more. When you are older you think, you remember, you care and you appreciate. You are thankful for everything. For everything."

By Alan Rusbridger
Reprinted from:
www.Guardian.co.uk

READ MORE HERE: 

www.nickreedent.com

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INTERVIEW: ALICE HERZ SOMMER & TONY ROBBINS 
 "Everything Is A Present: 108-Year-Old Holocaust Survivor On Beauty, Love And Conquering Hate"


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BBC PROGRAMME "HEART AND SOUL" ALICE HERZ SOMMER
Now 108 years old, concert pianist Alice Herz Sommer has led an extraordinary life. Alice and her six-year-old son Raphael were sent to the Terezin camp in June 1943, where they spent two gruesome years — but survived. Alice's gift for music saved her from despair in the camp where thousands of prisoners died. She gave many recitals there and it was music that kept her alive and fed her irrepressible optimism, which is still with her today. "For me, music is God", she says. "I always have music in my heart and no one can take that away from me." After several years in Israel, Alice now lives in London.  For Heart and Soul she tells her story to Judi Herman.

LISTEN NOW (28 minutes):
www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00lw91w

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TEN VIDEOS FEATURING ALICE HERZ-SOMMER

Alice, the worlds oldest Holocaust Survivor begins each day practicing Bach and Beethoven. "I am alone but not lonely because my life is rich with music." 

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