My memory of the agonizing drumbeat during the journey of my plight in WW ll never seem to fade. I tried to write them down,but had to stop, they became too emotional, yet I felt that the story had to be heard, had to make people realize and remind of the Nazi odious tyranny that swept across my country, Latvia, and rest of Europe, how it disparaged all people on their “March of Death.” The WW ll has ended decades…..
I had been sitting on a pile of books for hours, watching the clock that was in no hurry to move faster, maybe I wanted it to stop, the resonant, monotonous ticking reminded me of the war, the emptiness, the sorrow,the pain. My room was empty with the exception of the grand piano, that a person, whom I never met, had lent me to practice on while I was residing in Denmark, and my books, my wonderful books. They had…..