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Sitting here, a bottle of schnapps in hand, as I try to drown my sorrows while studying the desolate and tragic side of human existence, I wonder how I came to be here, an old, bitter man. Only several decades ago, I was in my prime. I was a celebrated concert pianist, admired and sought after throughout Europe. I played in the beautiful opera houses and concert halls of Vienna to thunderous applause. Vienna was a beautiful city, filled with stunning architecture and famed pianists and composers. I was married to Mathilde, a beautiful Jewish woman, whom I loved with a passion. She, too, was an exceptionally talented musician- she had a beautiful voice, and was well-known as a contralto and a Wagner specialist. Together we had a son, Eric. My wife, my son, meine Familie, meant the world to me. I was high on life, happier than I had ever been. But it was not to last. Near the beginning of World War II, a young Army recruit by the name of Adolf Hitler rose through the ranks to become eine F