Band of Survivors

Armed with his drum kit, a Holocaust survivor fights antisemitism one musical note at a time

- John Rosengren

Saul Dreier stands in the wings of the Kennedy Center's Millennium Stage in Washington, D.C., waiting to be introduced. A short, wiry nonagenarian, he's appearing there with his Holocaust Survivor Band in December 2015, a few days shy of the new year. It's a prestigious venue for a musical group that, up to that point, had only existed for just over a year. Dreier is excited but not nervous. He has seen too much in his lifetime to be unnerved by a mere performance.

When the band is announced, the crowd greets it enthusiastically. Dreier, 90, and Reuwen "Ruby" Sosnowicz, 88, both Holocaust survivors, take the stage, dressed in matching red shirts, black vests and black trousers. Sosnowicz, the more reserved of the two, goes to his keyboard, barely acknowledging the crowd, while Dreier waves and blows a kiss before taking a seat behind his drum kit. They are joined by younger musicians, including Sosnowicz's daughter Chana Rose, who sings and plays tambourine. A violinist, a guitar player, a horn player, a backup singer and another keyboard player-some the children of survivors as well-round out the band.

A steady beat, followed by the shimmy of a snare drum, introduces the first song, "Shalom Aleichem" (meaning "peace be with you"). An old Yiddish tune, it tells of angels that visit on Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath. While some sing the song as a lullaby, Dreier and company play it fast and bouncy. They're a klezmer band, combining traditional Jewish folk songs and the boisterous dance music of Eastern Europe with a heavy dose of improv thrown in. Think Yiddish jazz.

The audience nods along. Many mouth the words or hum the tune. Chances are, most know the song.

In stark contrast to the upbeat tune, haunting black-and-white images from the Holocaust flash on a large screen behind the band: prisoners being marched into the camps, bodies heaped on top of one another, families awaiting their inevitable fate.