Issue #49
Born and raised in Poland, Saul Dreier survived the holocaust that took the lives of his family and friends. He watched his mother being shot by German soldiers.
When Dreier was 16, he was sent to a concentration camp. Some men there would chant traditional Jewish songs, and Dreier joined them by banging two spoons together to create a beat. The music gave him moments of happiness during a traumatic time, and he claims it helped keep him alive.
Dreier emigrated to the United States in 1949 and worked as a construction contractor in New Jersey. In 1957, he married his wife, a Holocaust survivor, and they had four children.
For decades, Dreier was busy supporting and raising a family, and he did not play the drums. In 2014, he discovered that Alice Herz-Sommer, a concert pianist and Holocaust survivor, had passed away at the age of 110. She saw music as a form of redemption.
Dreier decided to honor Herz-Sommer by creating a band of Holocaust survivors. He pitched the idea to his wife and rabbi, who said he was crazy. Not to be deterred, Dreier, at 89, bought himself a set of drums and put together a band of Holocaust survivors.
In the last ten years, Dreier and his band have played Jewish folk music at over 100 concerts worldwide, including for Joe Biden at the White House. The band has played in nursing homes, synagogues, and concert halls in the United States, Canada, Poland, Germany, Brazil, and Israel.
“My purpose in life is to get people to see that we are all one; we all sing the same song.”
— Saul Dreier
These words come from Mr. Tanner, a song by singer and songwriter Harry Chapin. In those brief moments of despair when I doubt whether it is worthwhile to continue writing, these words bring comfort. For some of us, our art is not meant to be our livelihood. That does not make what we do any less important than that of those who create professionally for money.
Fame and success are fleeting. How many one-hit wonders are out there? How many child movie stars fizzle and implode when they become adults? How many writers disappear from the publishing world after their deaths, and their books go out of print? How many artists have one major show and disappear?
Harry Chapin is one of my favorite singers because he tells stories with his music. I first heard of him when a high school friend of mine made a short movie based on his song, Sniper. I played one of the victims of the sniper. I had a chance to see Harry Chapin in concert in the late 1970's on the campus of the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana. And I was sad when his life was cut short by an automobile accident in 1981.
Here is Harry Chapin singing Mr. Tanner. Listen to what his wife says about where Harry got his ideas for his songs. Listen to the words of song and don't let the naysayers and critics put you down. You are gifted.
Just so you know, I cannot carry a tune. Ironically, I spent 30 years leading people in singing as part of a customer service workshop. The music touched people's hearts and changed their lives.
Singing has the power to soothe the savage beast that lives inside all of us. Music will cheer you up when you are down. Singing can lighten your load and free your soul from its burdens. Music communicates at a deeper level than mere words or pictures.
When I was in college, and I felt down, I would walk the railroad tracks that ran through campus and sing to myself. Singing cheered me up and helped me feel better about myself and the world. I would sing then and often still do the first two lines from the old gospel song, Lonesome Valley. I didn't know the lyrics to the entire song, but these two lines stuck in my memory.
"You gotta walk that lonesome valley
You gotta walk it by yourself."
You brought some memories back to me. I really enjoyed the music of Harry Chaplin and your post. Well done.
Spellcheck keeps changing his name to Chaplin. The concert was free at the University of Illinois. I happened to be walking through campus and stumbled across it. Chapin was an amazing storyteller. I love Taxi, Cat’s Cradle, and so many more.