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Bill Thomas
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People whose souls had been denied them…
Dear Mr. Theodorakis,
I have been familiar with you and your work of courage since my days in 1968, as a young naval officer stationed with the American Sixth fleet. I became aware of you when, with my friends at a taverna in the Plaka, I'd ask the wonderful trio performing to play the only Greek song we knew, Zorba.
Of course, as a young American whose life centered around music, I could not understand why night after night, the musicians kindly refused to play Zorba… because it was against the law.
Against the law?
I never forgot that or the incident that followed some three years later in Skiathos. I was there for a vacation and to reacquaint myself with the Greece I had come to love from my brief visits the few years earlier. I was traveling with my guitar and met a young Greek man and his family vacationing as well. Since we both had guitars, we exchanged songs. He was interested in American songs, and, of course, I was interested in Greek songs, most especially yours. Of course, he refused, albeit politely, to play your songs. In fact, as you would expect, my frequent requests made anyone around uncomfortable. But, I needed to know what was so dangerous about the voice of a songwriter. I, a naïve young American, who could listen to or play anything I wanted, could not understand why someone could not do the same in Greece . We spent the week seeing one another at tavernas nearly everyday and playing our songs. And always, I would ask him to play one of yours. And always the same results, a polite refusal.
On the last day of our visit we both missed the ferry leaving for Voulos, and since it was raining he invited me to return to the home where he and his family had been staying. It would be several hours before the ferry returned so we shared some lunch and some music again. And again, I asked for a song by Theodorakis. To my great surprise, they closed the door, shuttered the windows and played your music. The passion and the tears flowed together. My newfound friend cried. His wife cried. The old woman whose home we were sharing cried. I was never so moved by a performance as I was that late August day, nor since. I could not understand the lyrics but I could understand the meaning of what I was experiencing. To me they were singing about freedom. And the passion and yearning for it when it is absent. That something stolen or denied is far more dangerous than something freely available.
I went on to make my living as a children's songwriter in America for many years, always though, with the desire to write about this experience and the power of music and art denied to the very people about whom and for whom it was created. People whose souls had been denied them. People, who when looking in a mirror, were no longer able to see their reflection. Being able to actually tell you, the man whose music and life inspired a nation's and mine is almost enough.
Yours gratefully,
Bill Thomas
© Bill Thomas 2004.
Bill Thomas is a businessman living in the US. During the 1970's and 1980's he wrote and produced songs and films for a popular children's television show in the US.
He has recently sent this letter to Mikis Theodorakis. It says a lot about the climate of oppression during the dictatorship and the importance which the composer has had in those dark times. Now as there is once again so much hate, it is important for us to publish this moving document.
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