'That radio saved my life': A musical lifeline from a Hutterite colony to the outside world

Listener mail about Robert Harris's music series "The Music That Changed Your World" is still pouring in. Here are two of the letters we received in response to the third episode of the series. 

From Thomas Harding in Surrey, B.C.:

"35 years ago, I was a Sub-Lieutenant under training aboard one of Canada's destroyers — Qu'Appelle, I think. Most nights were interrupted by a 4-hour duty shift — midnight to 4 was the worst.

Occasionally, I had the luxury of ending one watch at 8:00 p.m., and starting the next at 8:00 a.m. These reprieves were called "all-nighters."

When I got an all-nighter, I would get off watch, have a 3-minute shower, put on my white dress uniform, then repair to the Wardroom.  

For about a dollar, I got a 12-ounce glass of Harvey's Bristol Cream sherry. I'd put my treasured cassette tape of Schubert's Trout Quintet — the legendary Perlman, du Pre, Barenboim & Zukerman recording — on the Wardroom hifi, lean back in a wing chair, and sip, and listen, and think that life was very civilized.

 By the time the recording was over, the Harvey's was gone, and I was ready for deep and dreamless sleep.

Even today I can't hear The Trout without tasting, on memory's tongue, that sweet, rich, almondy sherry."

From Lloyd Wipf in Edmonton, Alberta:

"I grew up on a Hutterite Colony in Alberta — without radio, without television, without any exposure to culture and art that was not that of the Hutterites.         

When I was 11 or 12 years old, my older brother gave me a tiny pocket radio that just fit into the palm of my hand. Where he got it from was a mystery. I did not ask. The deal was that if mom and dad found it, it was solely my responsibility. 

Radios were forbidden. They represented a connection to the outside world, a world we were not supposed to want, yet a world I deeply wanted to know and understand.

When I turned on the radio, the lonely twang of classic country greeted my ears. 

It was an old Conway Twitty song, "It's Only Make Believe." 

I didn't dare change the dial for fear it would all go away.

At night, I would put the radio underneath the pillowcase and press my head against it to muffle the sound. I was terrified my parents would hear it. I would lie there for hours, late into the night, and just listen to the music and to the story within each song.

Eventually, when I got bored with broken hearts and cheating husbands and wives, I began turning the dial, to see what other music there might be. And then I heard it. Montserrat Caballe singing the aria "Casta Diva" from Bellini's opera Norma.

I couldn't understand the words she was singing, and I didn't really care. To this day I can't really tell you why I was so immediately hooked. But to this day, I tear up when I hear that aria.

I didn't change the dial for weeks. 

Every night I listened to the music of the Italian greats, and began to realize that there was so much world and culture I wanted to discover. It was there, with my ear pressed against the radio, that I heard Tito Gobbi singing "Di provenza il mar, il suol?" from La Traviata.

That's when I realized that I wanted a different life — a life where simply turning on the radio is not an act of defiance.

My mother eventually discovered my secret radio, and left it under my bed in many fractured pieces. 

At that point I knew what my destiny was. When I was 18 years old I made the decision to leave the colony and begin a new life. My relationship with my family was forever fractured by my decision to leave. But I have never been happier. 

That radio saved my life. That music forever changed my world. I listen to opera music every day. And the best part? I listen to it loudly and with unabashed pleasure!"

Thanks to everyone who wrote to us about Robert's series, "The Music That Changed Your World." 

Click 'listen' above to hear listener responses.