Dear Jochen, I want to thank you for making the trip to 'the farm' and help honoring Marion's memory. The reason it took me so long is my reading of the Correspondence between Cousins. I'm not sure I was supposed to, but I did. It really is a fascinating document, and this for different reasons. I read it as portraits of the two cousins, and for its own sake. As far as its central focus is concerned (family relations), I don't have a whole lot to contribute. Of course I knew some of the characters, although long ago and for a relatively short time only. I was surprised not to find any reference to Fritz' activity as a porter (apparently lugging suitcases for years at one of the New York railroad stations, while studying for his credentials as an accountant). This must have been demeaning for a proud man who was already deeply hurt by his rejection as a true (German) citizen. I knew about the historical tensions between the brothers' families, although when I appeared, there seemed to be more friendship than enmity. I remember my visit(s) to Konnarock as quite harmonious and certainly stimulating. Well yes, mixed marriages, baptism, run through Jewish history. Tolerance, or intolerance, generally speaking, may not explain the personal, or tribal, response. It runs very deep. I know, because my second wife Hester was not Jewish. The response of my tolerant parents was mixed at best. The result of mixed marriage is all around us and has been fully documented. You, your sister, your son and all the kids, my children, are all walking examples of a large class of people who aren't quite sure who they are, where they came from. There is no end to the issues the two of you raised. Let me therefore finish with an observation of my own: Bach, Schubert, Beethoven, even Wagner, appear regularly in your text. And don't get me wrong. I love and admire the great Johann Sebastian as no other. But where is Mozart? He isn't mentioned once in the volume, if I recall correctly. And this appears to be no accident. Where is his measure, his kindness? In life 100% is far more than we can bargain for. Dear Jochen, I admire your courage to travel all the way here, I admire your courage to keep digging. May you find what you are looking for. Best wishes, Micha Dear Micha, Thank you very much for your letter, and please forgive me for replying immediately, I do so as a matter of efficiency. My 88 year old memory is so poor, that when I think about your letter, I compose my reply in "in real time", as the computer programmers would say, Tomorrow I will have forgotten, and would have to search my mind to find the drawer or shelf where I had absentmindedly hidden what I wanted to tell you. I'm pleased that you found it worthwhile to read the correspondence between Marion and myself. I don't remember when I assembled that 150 page long file or why it remained incomplete. Initially I was embarrassed to send you the Internet URL to these letters, implicitly inviting you to read them, because my replies to Marion are so lengthy and bloated that it might appear I was abusing the occasion to promote my own writing. I entertain the same concern when I report that as of now, I have expanded the collection to 603 pages, with more to come. If you wish, you may download these letters in 3 volumes (the third as yet in progress) from http://home.earthlink.net/~ej4meyer/MN_EJM_2009_06_01.odt http://home.earthlink.net/~ej4meyer/MN_EJM_2009_09_30.odt http://home.earthlink.net/~ej4meyer/MN_EJM_2009_12_05.odt respectively 286, 250, and 67 pages in length. I am also embarrassed to report that, because I was careless in "backing up" my e-mail, some of Marion's letters are, at least temporarily, lost. I shall continue to try to find them by searching the hard drives of various otherwise disabled computers that clutter the house and the garage. (Nothing in my universe is ever discarded.) From a tentative tally, I infer that I have already recovered perhaps 98 additional letters from Marion, as well as 150 of my own, to be added to my collections. If your software cannot open .odt files, I offer to make these texts available in .doc, .rtf, .pdf, or .txt formats. Should you decide to read them, your thirst for Mozart will be at least somewhat assuaged. My earliest memories of Mozart in childhood are the strains of Eine kleine Nachtmusik with which I later consoled myself in college, playing the first violin part with shameless indifference to any semblance of even rudimentary technique. I have no memory of ever attending the performance of a Mozart opera, but as soon as I heard the original Thomas Beecham recording of Die Zauberflöte, "Dies Bildnis ist bezaubernd schön", "O Isis und Osiris schenket der Weisheit Geist dem neuen Paar," and "In diesen heilgen Hallen, kennt man die Rache nicht" became part of my life. My own Tamino moment occurred in the afternoon of May 17, 1946, when, not quite sixteen years old, I had my first glimpse under the tall elms on the lawn in front of Packer Memorial Chapel' in Bethlehem PA, of my future wife, with whom I then made a pre-nuptial entrance into the church, soon to be welcomed by the strings and the woodwinds, the trumpets and the timpani, and the shouts of the chorus: Jauchzet, frohlocket, auf, preiset die Tage, rühmet was heute der Höchste getan! My sonnet: Bachfest in Bethlehem1 1946 Der Wochen seit sie starb ist es die siebte Da denk ich in Erinnerung versenkt An die vor kurzer Zeit verstorbene Geliebte Die jahrelang ein glücklich Leben mir geschenkt. Ein Schatz von Bildern steht mir zur Verfügung, Unschuldge Kindheit, jugendliche Scham, Das alte Elternhaus, die Straßenbiegung Wo sie zu erst mir zu Gesichte kam. Der Turm ist hoch von wo Posaunen klingen. Im Mittelschiff wo jetzt Musik erschallt Fühl ich sie neben mir; ich höre Singen das durch ein langes Leben nicht verhallt. Ich träumte von ihr neunundsechzig Jahre. Nun bin ich wach und knie an ihrer Bahre. notwithstanding, we did not then sit next to each other. Six years later, we were married. My earliest memory of Don Giovanni is my father's consternation that I was corrupting my character, when one summer evening, he found me, then sixteen years old, sitting with a glass of wine on the closed porch in Konnarock, listening to records of Don Giovanni and pondering the meaning of Leporello's catalogue. There blossomed then my profound admiration for DaPonte's engagingly humane and utterly truthful anthropology. In my old age, I've reached the conclusion that Kant's Kategorischer Imperativ, since there is no "free will" is the ultimate falsehood, while Don Giovanni's response "no" to the imperative "pentiti, si" is a truth so great and so genuine, since none of us can change, or should pretend to change who he is, that the more than mille trente victims listed in the catalogue will forgive Giovanni, if they have not already, and judex ergo, cum sedebit et quidquid latet apparebit will conclude that the spiritual virtue of Giovanni's truthfulness heavily outweighs his serial transgressions of the flesh, and will issue him the applied for boarding pass to heaven after all. That's enough, if not already too much. In subsequent correspondence, if it develops, I will tell you about my engagement with other Mozart operas, about resolving the duality of my religious heritage by abstaining from ALL public exhibitions of what Haran calls "spirituality". Thank you for your wish that I might find "what I am looking for". Das kommt von selbst, und verlangt von mir, nichts als Geduld. Greetings and best wishes, also to Barbara. Jochen