What kind of person was Edgar?….
….. I’m sometimes asked.
From my point of view
I like to draw a picture of Edgar which essentially characterize him:
was a strong, unusual and interesting personality – an unique
specimen. His asterisk lion became effective into many different
impressing rhetorical abilities he was
thoughts and opinions
because communication belonged for him to
the most important elements of expressing himself. He represented his
point of view always self-assuredly, straight, open and in plain
terms. Never ever he talked others after the mouth and he estimated
humans, who – like himself - could represent honestly their opinion
and didn’t let themselves put off, e.g. by statements of others.
People who, like he expresses it, took a pronounced “little Easter
bunny – submissive posture” or even trimmed their sails to the wind
didn’t mean anything to him.
In his unmistakable kind he provided sometimes for
explosive. Partly he gave thereby consciously mental impetus or
provoked reactions over which he occasionally grinned quietly. If
Edgar got excited to much and went beyond the goal then he didn’t make
himself popular, but that was never ever that according to which he
strove. He wanted to be heard and gotten attention, scorned however
The fact that in the proud lion with the intelligent
head in the heart was a very sensitive kitten at the same time
recognized probably all who liked and loved him and to them he was
ready to show the inner man. This internal understanding for his soul
shared especially I, Susanne, as well as his best friends, who
particularly attached him, too. He expressed his affection and
intimate friendship staying in touch warmly and intensively, also in
the form of many detailed letters or rather e-mails and his photos.
Edgar was a reliable and helpful friend and partner, who, if
necessary, went through hell, and high water for the other to stand up
for them. Gladly he stood by with help and advice.
With his dry humour or crazy ideas he could bring
others to laugh. He was simply lovable if he disguised himself, e.g.
for one day a year, on the middle of summer, as a clown and addressed
the people on the road and took pleasure in the reactions. His
absentmindedness things like his keys and so on very often to lose or
to mislay was likewise a characteristic, which brought to the grin.
Edgar was a very romantic human. He wrote sensitive
poems, played gladly with words, formulated song texts, sent
encouraging postcards to himself and believed also in
things which one could not see like his power place in Montreux or the
living on the soul after death. “Nothing is like it seems”, he said
It gave things about he could be pleased like a child.
He loved trains and
already from childhood and it was nice to see if he got shining eyes
as a grown-up, too.
Edgar felt very connected to nature. His intensive
sporty activities which he,
discipline, also practised in all weathers enjoyed he therefore
open air. He did not only
pay attention to his own environmentally conscious behaviour, but drew
also other people’s attention to it, e.g. to turn off the engine if it,
after his opinion, was appropriate.
That not all humans of the world
shared his self understanding what above all concerned justice and the
peace in the world excited him often.
Here he loaded himself
with very much responsibility, because he had often the feeling not
only for the own justice to have to fight, but also for other humans
in order to reach an improvement.
For a long time he engaged himself,
with very much civil courage, in the trade union and in the work
council. He had also to fight for his own job over years and showed
thereby an admirable perseverance and bite. Since this was a heavy
burden to bear at the same time he often wished himself more calmness,
but the character of the lion affected him strongly. Perhaps he liked
therefore the cows on the pasture so much because they exude such a
strong balance and peace?
However, he found also gentle forms to work hard for
others if he, e.g. actively supported a charity programme. He was
proud of his artistic abilities and donated with joy and much
commitment one of his paintings for the benefit of a cancer-ill child.
The abstract painting meant not only much for him, it was for Edgar
also a very important form of creative expression and the relaxation,
as well as releasing all loads which were in his mind. By his
contacts, the intensive exchange with other artists and the
participation in cooperative projects he felt enriched, because he not
only worked productively, but also gladly mentally with the subject,
criticized, let be inspire and inspired others.
sentence "The soul is the mother of painters" is again reflected his
love for the music. He heard music rarely “on the side”, but got real
enjoyment out of listening with the whole body.
The armchair edge never took it to badly,
if he drummed on it during that time. There were times, in which he
along-played with his expressive voice or his Bluesharp alone or
played in a band. He always participated with full heart blood and
shared the enthusiasm also gladly with his friends.
Edgar did not judge humans by social conditions,
nationality, skin colour, clothes or something like that. That the
character and the wavelength fit were the most important for him.
Why Edgar it, particularly opposite intimate humans,
didn’t take it always exactly with the truth, was, perhaps, because of
his need after allowance and acknowledgment. On the one hand he needed
and looked for love and a home, on the other hand he felt probably too
fast locked in a cage. He was a man with corners and edges and it was
not always simple with him, but the special and remarkable of him made
up for it again. Who could take him in such a way as he was could not
help than love him!
Edgar was convinced vegetarian, respected and loved the
life, left unforgettable and love-worth footsteps on his way, was
endeavours to maintain his health and he would gladly have become 120
years old. The fate intended however something else with him, which we
cannot fathom, because the view behind this door is still hidden to
us. Perhaps he is just painting his shoes in red with the fingers of
his left hand, to give us a wink and to tell us "Hey, don’t worry; you
know that I am not only an Indian, but also an extraterrestrial.
Love and peace, keep up the good work, Blues and greetings,
At the beginning I wrote that I would like to draw a
picture of Edgar with my words. In the meantime it occurred to me:
Many years ago I had a short phase in which I in
pastel-chalk-oils or in pencil made a few drawings. One of the motives
was at that time a portrait drawing of Edgar. I had never finished it
because I wanted to improve it "sometime later". But now I
leave the picture like it is because the finiteness of time became
again painfully conscious to me with Edgar’s death.