Sunday, February 28, 2010


                                                 - Donna DiPietro

Of all of the cases I have been involved with over the years, this one has left the greatest lasting emotional impression on me and I find it difficult to talk about.

I was the Concert Manager at New England Conservatory of Music in Boston from January 1969 until August 1975. One day in the early 1970s I was on my lunch break in the lady’s lounge that was off of the main concert hall, Jordan Hall. There was a fireplace, couch, some cozy chairs and a few small tables. It was a quiet day and I was by myself. I had a deck of playing cards and was trying to guess which card would come up as I pulled each one from the top of the deck. A lady entered the lounge, introduced herself as Lydia, and asked what I was doing and I told her. I had seen her a few times at a distance within the last few weeks and I thought she may be a new employee or teacher. She asked me if I told fortunes and I said yes, but just for fun. She then asked me to read hers as she sat down in the chair next to mine. I had her shuffle the cards and lay them down on the table in front of us. I turned them around three times counter-clockwise and played the part of a fortune teller. I really wasn’t using the cards to read her fortune since the images were coming directly to my mind. The first thing I saw was a word but it didn’t look English and she told me to write it down. She watched as I wrote down her father’s name in Polish and she asked me what I saw about him. I told her I didn’t use cards but could see images in my mind. I told her I saw her father with valuable coins in his pocket that were being taken away and barbed wire. She had tears in her eyes as she told me her father was captured by the Nazis and they took his valuable coins from his pocket. The rest of the lunch hour went by quickly and I envisioned so many things from her life. She asked if I would continue at a later date and invited me to her nearby Boston apartment some day after work. A few days later we went to her apartment and sat at the kitchen table for 3.5 hours and I told her life story in detail from the time she was a little girl living in Poland. I mentioned the name Edvard and described his blond hair parted a certain way, that he was in military uniform and that he had a letter from his mother with blood on it when he was found. She went into the bedroom and brought out a large gold framed picture of her brother. She said I described him, his name, his hair, his uniform and that he was found dead in the war and had a letter from their mother in his pocket. Lydia had been married to an SS officer but eventually escaped her husband and left Poland and came to the United States with their three sons. At the end of my 3.5 hour medium state, I said something I didn’t understand and she began to cry. She said I had just spoken in German. She told me her best friend Anna, fifteen years old at the time, was taken away by the Nazis and was on the back of a truck when she last saw her. At that last moment, so many years before, Anna told Lydia that if there was ever any way she could reach her, she would, and she did - through me. She spoke through me, in German, telling Lydia that she was reaching her now. Her friend Anna used me to get this message to her best friend Lydia, proving that there is an afterlife. It also shows that this dear friend who died in a concentration camp at the age of fifteen was waiting all these years to find someone that she could communicate through and somehow that person would be in contact with Lydia. I saw Anna on the back of the truck, her dark hair disheveled, the panic in her eyes, the torment on her face, and her hands outstretched to a world she was trying to hold on to. I don’t understand or speak the German or Polish languages but somehow I was able to bypass what I didn’t know so that I could relay a message from the other side.


  1. I enjoyed vey much this story, you were able to bring to people back together how wonderful. Jean

  2. Dear Donna,
    I read this story last night and it made me cry. I actually dreamed about it and woke up before 5 in the morning thinking about it. I'm telling people at work when I get there.

  3. This brought back many memories that should never be forgotten. Thank you for telling this story.

  4. You make history come alive and everything is so vivid. Thanks for the wonderful story.
    Eva M

  5. I read this story to my grandmother and she cried. She said it brought back memories.

  6. dburnell@plymouth.eduMarch 2, 2010 at 1:31 PM

    Hi Aunt Donna,
    I've been following your blog since its inception and have really enjoyed your heartfelt stories. Some of them are very close to my heart. When you wrote about Aunt Kit and Billy and Gilmanton Iron Works it brought back a deluge of wonderful memories. As children I always knew that you were gifted. Its excellent that you share your gift to help others:)

    Looking forward to the next chapter.
    Love Debbie

  7. Dear Donna,
    A beautifully woven story. Very entertaining.
    Caren Ben-Aharon