Jazz Survivor
For Emily, Harry and Dorothy
And for Flora
‘If I’m feeling tomorrow like I feel today
I’ll pack my trunk and make my getaway.’
St. Louis Blues, by W C. Handy
Jazz Survivor
The Story of Louis Bannet,
Horn Player of Auschwitz
Ken Shuldman
VALLENTINE MITCHELL
LONDON • PORTLAND, OR
First published in 2005 in Great Britain by
VALLENTINE MITCHELL
Suite 314, Premier House,
112-114 Station Road,
Edgware, Middlesex HAS 7BJ
and in the United States of America by
VALLENTINE MITCHELL
c/o ISBS, 920 NE 58th Avenue, Suite 300
Portland, Oregon, 97213-3786
Website http://www.vmbooks.com
Copyright © 2011 Ken Shuldman
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0267-3
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher of this book.
List of Plates
1.Louis Bannet, violin virtuoso. Rotterdam, 1925.
2.Anton Swan and the Swantockers. Louis Bannet is on the right, holding trumpet. Amsterdam, 1928.
3.Louis and his Yiddishe Momma, Leenjte Bannet. Rotterdam, 1930.
4.Louis Bannet and his Rhythm Five. Pshoor’s Cafe-Restaurant, Amsterdam, 1934.
5.A man and his horn. Louis Bannet, Amsterdam, 1946.
6.Students from the Jewish Conservatory of Music performing on the streets of Rotterdam, 1921. Louis Bannet is at center with violin.
7.Louis Bannet, on the left, with the Kentucky Five, an ensemble he formed at the Jewish Conservatory. Rotterdam, 1927.
8.Louis Bannet’s CIC ID papers, issued 15 June 1945 in Bamberg, Germany, authorizing Louis to bear arms, concealed or otherwise, at all times.
9.His heart was a violin, but it belonged to one woman, Flora. The Hague, 1945.
10.The Dutch Louis Armstrong. Montreal, 1956.
11.Louis Bannet, violin student at the Jewish Conservatory of Music. Rotterdam, 1922.
12.Louis Bannet, as host of the television show Man Coeur Est Un Violon. Montreal, Canada, 1964.
13.Louis and Flora, happy together. Toronto, 2000.
Introduction
We drew up in ranks of five, with the musicians. They were nearly all Jews: Juliek, a bespectacled Pole with a cynical smile on his pale face; Louis, a distinguished musician who came from Holland - he complained that they would not let him play Beethoven: Jews were not allowed to play German music.
From Night by Elie Wiesel
Several years ago, a friend visited the Nazi death camp at Auschwitz-Birkenau. Standing alone near the site of where the crematoriums once stood, he heard the sound of a bird singing. How odd, he thought, to hear such a sweet sound in such a place.
Louis Bannet, the ‘Louis’ mentioned in Elie Wiesel’s masterpiece of Holocaust literature, was like that bird.
Jazz Survivor is the remarkable tale of a Dutch Jewish trumpet star who became known as the Dutch Louis Armstrong, a man who blew the Nazis away.
In his life, Louis Bannet played for kings and queens, monsters and madmen, and somehow survived the hell of all hells to become a renowned bandleader and host of one of Canada’s most beloved television shows. It’s a story that includes encounters with a colorful cast of historical figures, such as the legendary jazz saxophone player Coleman Hawkins, the French singing star Edith Piaf, Josef Mengele, and Louis Armstrong himself. Ultimately, though, it is a story about the power of music. As Louis Bannet said, ‘I was stronger than Hitler - I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I had my trumpet in my hand.’ Today that trumpet, a musical testament to survival, is on display at the Museum of Jewish Heritage/A Living Memorial to the Holocaust in New York City.
Acknowledgements
This was not a journey I embarked upon alone, and I’d like to acknowledge those who traveled by my side, both physically and spiritually. To my wife Emily and our children, Harry and Dorothy. Thank you for your love and understanding, and for always lifting my spirits. To my Aunt Sylvia Tobias and my brother Steve for sharing your faith, your kitchen, and your love of tradition. To my dear departed friend Sandy Corbet, who thought ‘this trumpet guy’ would be a great and important story to tell. To Jeroen Bours: we both lost our fathers when we were young, but then we found Louis and became brothers. This story is our story. To my dear friends in Toronto, Marnie and Steven and Irene Loewy, thank you for the many kindnesses, and for your love and support. To Louis Bannet Jr., for allowing me to be a part of your family. To Dr Jud Newborn for discovering Louis Bannet and bringing him into the lives of so many. To my friends at the Museum of Jewish Heritage/A Living Memorial to the Holocaust, thank you for keeping hope and memory alive. To Rabbi Stuart Gershon and Shyalpa Rinpoche, your spiritual messages came through loud and clear. To Emma Fialka for bringing your heart and soul to Louis. And to Billy Altman, Vincent Cariello, Cheryl Gackstetter, Hans Vanderwerff, Ray Benjamin, James Salzano, and KJ Bowen, for helping me complete the journey. Most of all, this book would not have been possible without Flora.
Prologue
I arrived early for Louis Bannet’s memorial service that sweltering June day back in 2002. As I entered the Benjamin Funeral Home in Toronto, there were only a few people seated in the sanctuary, mostly older members of the Dutch community that once flourished in Toronto. These men and women, with their walkers and canes, had once danced to the driving rhythms of Louis Bannet and his band.
Sitting alone by the simple wooden coffin, silently reciting from the Book of Psalms, was the Shomer, the religious watchman and guardian of the spirit. I wondered, was one Shomer enough for such a spirit?
I first heard the name Louis Bannet while on a tour of the construction site of the Museum of Jewish Heritage/A Living Memorial to the Holocaust in New York City. At the time, I was working for the advertising agency that was developing a campaign for the museum. Dr David Altshuler, the museum’s esteemed first director, was pointing to where several exhibits were to be displayed. As we gingerly walked past steel girders and exposed wires, he motioned towards a corner where a glass case would stand. Inside that case, he said, would be a trumpet that belonged to a man named Louis Bannet, once known as the Dutch Louis Armstrong. The idea of a trumpet and jazz in a Holocaust Museum seemed odd and strangely out of place, and I filed the story away in my memory.
About a year after the museum opened, I was asked to create several television commercials that would feature the