Pull tabs from soda cans
were elevated to a humanistic, historical, and educational importance
through student efforts. Under the guidance of history teachers Kevin
Daugherty and Jane Fisk, eleven million tabs were collected in 1996-97
by public school children from the Mahomet-Seymour Jr. High, Mahomet
Illinois to represent the numbers of persons murdered by Nazi Germany
during the Holocaust. Six million tabs were collected to represent the
numbers of deceased Jews. Additionally 5 million tabs were collected
to numerically represent the other murdered minorities, including
political dissenters, gypsies, pacifists, disabled persons,
homosexuals, as well as others who tried to help the persecuted.
A few months after the
collection began, Eva Mozes Kor, survivor of Dr. Joseph Mengele's
experiments on twins, visited the students and contributed 119 tabs,
each representing a member of her family who was destroyed. Kor
dropped the tabs, one at a time, into the 890,000 that the students
had already collected. With added conviction the class intensified
their efforts, posting their collection on the internet in response to
their awareness of Holocaust denier web-sites. Syndicated press
coverage fueled national awareness of the tab collection. Millions of
tabs began arriving. The students met their goal eventually receiving
11 million tabs from all 50 states and eight countries. At a Yom
HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) commemoration, students poured out
6 million tabs in the gymnasium, surrounding the mound with the added
5 million in shopping bags. National and local news media brought this
most important school effort into the homes of millions of TV viewers
across the nation. At the end of the school year the tabs were sent
for recycling.
I learned about
this soda tab collection, just after completing a memorial to
honor holocaust hero Raoul Wallenberg, commissioned by the
Simon Wiesenthal Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles. I felt
that the tabs, the dynamic experience of the students who had
collected them, and the noble efforts of thousands of tab
contributors, had taken on the significance of needing to be
preserved through an artistic work. Robert Silverman, then
Executive Director of the Champaign - Urbana Jewish
Federation, asked the recycler to hold up the recycling of the
nearly 5 tons of tabs. In response to my interest in using the
soda can tabs as the source material for a massive memorial
sculpture, Kevin Daugherty, Rob Silverman and the CEO of the
recycling plant, Lou Mervis, made available to me these
numerical representations of tragically lost lives. After five
months of being challenged by the tabs I invented a soda tab
feather made from tabs, aluminum wire, and a two foot aluminum
rod, that students could build with me in workshops.

Since 1997,
approximately 45,000 participants from 23 states and Canada have
constructed soda-tab feathers for WINGS of WITNESS. The project
creates a network of many thousands of students linked together
through art and hope, constantly enlarging. Workshops with students are continuing until the all of the
millions of collected tabs have been formed into the sculpture's
components.
After the first
million tabs were converted into feather structures in
workshops, I created a site specific method of assembling the
feather structures into wings. This process also involves
students and communities. The feather structures are laid out
in overlapping rows by volunteers, according to a placement
guide drawn on plastic sheeting, formed as a massive
butterfly. The Butterfly shape is a reference to a poem written by young Pavel
Friedmann who was a prisoner at the Terezin concentration
camp in Czechoslovakia, and perished at Auschwitz.
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Photo: Janet Propst
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Photo: Janet Propst
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Photo: Courtesy William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum
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"Wings Of Witness" at the William Bremen Jewish
Heritage Museum, Atlanta, 4/99
Each time the WINGS of WITNESS assemblage sculpture
is exhibited, newly made feathers are added, enlarging the single
butterfly. The sculpture-in-progress is a touring exhibition traveling
to museums and cultural centers across the country. It is accompanied by
a sign-in book of pages containing the signatures, collected under their
school's name, of the many thousands of participants. WINGS of WITNESS
will have been created by more than fifty-thousand participants, when
completed.
WINGS of WITNESS was first assembled as a
work-in-progress in 1998 at the MSJH school by the students and
community that collected the tabs. It was subsequently exhibited
September 1998- February 1999 at Yeshiva University Museum, Manhattan.
The following presentation was April-May 1999 at the William Breman
Jewish Heritage Museum, Atlanta, where nearly one thousand students
constructed feathers during the week of Yom HaShoah, Holocaust
Remembrance Day. Containing over one and a half million tabs, the
butterfly spanned nearly forty feet across the gallery. This tragic
number represents the number of children murdered during the Holocaust.
In the summer of 2000, the massive butterfly was
spread on the side of a mountain slope in Simi Valley, California at The
Brandeis Bardin Institute, by the counselors-in-training, campers and
institute staff.
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Photo: Yoni Boujo, taken from a helicopter
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From September through November 2000 WINGS spanned
the changing exhibitions gallery at Holocaust Museum Houston. In June
2001 WINGS of WITNESS was spread in a meadow at historic Ida Lee Park,
Loudoun County Virginia, then in 2003 went on to grace a meadow on Long
Island Sound at The Nassau County Holocaust Memorial and Educational
Center, Glen Cove, NY. In 2005 the wingspan of the massive butterfly
traversed the sculpture garden of the Katonah Museum of Art, Westchester
County NY. Similar to other installation sites, WINGS of WITNESS was
accompanied by a gallery exhibition with a project photo chronology, and
a selection of Schrier’s related works of art.
Prior to its exhibition at each of these sites, Schrier conducted
workshops where several thousand additional area participants made
feather structures that have been added to WINGS of WITNESS.
WINGS of WITNESS workshops continue. Thousands of
additional participants have constructed tab feather structures through
their institutions and schools in recent years. When needed, added soda
can tabs are purchased by WINGS of WITNESS from Ronald McDonald House
Charities. The Charities collect the tabs to provide support for
familites of severely ill children. Then, the otherwise nearly worthless
tabs, have a second phase of purpose in teaching tolerance by becoming
part of the WINGS of WITNESS memorial.
In January 2011, At the Wilshire Blvd. Temple, Los Angeles, Holocaust
survivor Frances Flaumenbaum (Blady) attended the workshop program
providing a powerful note of reality.

Frances Flaumenbaum
Frances Flumenbaum was born in
1923 in Slavkov, Poland (now the Czech Republic). She was the eldest of
five children, with two brothers, David and Herschel, and two sisters,
Phyllis and Sarah.
Frances was especially close
to her father, Wolf Bar Blady, who owned a grocery store in the nearby
town of Sosnowiec. Wolf was a devoted father, helping his children with
their homework in the evening and readying them for school in the
morning. Frances' mother Bela was a teacher in whose footsteps Frances
hoped one day to follow.
The school Frances attended
was closed shortly after the German occupation of Poland, but for a time
she was granted permission to attend classes n Sosnowiec. On one of her
trips in summer 1940 a relative gave her several yards of valuable cloth
for the family to trade with their Christian neighbors for food. Frances
smuggled the cloth to her parents by wrapping it around her body. Her
ruse worked and she made several trips undetected. But on one trip her
luck ran out and she was arrested. When her father learned of what had
happened, he made Frances promise that she would never betray their benefactor,
the father of seven, who would be hanged for his good deed. Her father
told her that if she kept silent, she would survive. Frances promised no
matter what she would keep the secret.
When questioned and assured
that she could return home if she gave up the name, Frances steadfastly
asserted that she didn't know. Even when the guards tortured her -
burning
her arms with cigarettes - Frances kept her promise. She was sentenced to
six months slave labor picking fruit in an orchard. Ironically, it was
Frances' capture that spared her life. When her sentence ended, she
learned that all of her family, except her sister Phyllis, had been
deported to Auschwitz.
From Sosnowiec, Frances and
Phyllis were sent as forced laborers to Ludwigsdorf, Germany. Frances
was assigned to a leather factory where she again dared to break the
rules, stealing leather so a camp shoemaker could make shoes for
prisoners who had none. Caught, she miraculously escaped serious
punishment and for a brief time was even assigned as a maid to the
camp's female commandant, cleaning her clothes and shining her boots.
That job was followed by one in a munitions factory where the constant
exposure to gunpowder seriously damaged Frances' lungs.
Following liberation in 1945,
with nowhere else to go, Frances remained in the camp. There she met Sam
Flumenbaum, a survivor of Buchenwald, whom she married in December 1946.
They stayed in Germany until 1960 when Frances was well enough to
immigrate to the United States. With their son William the couple
settled first in Springfield, New Jersey and later in Los Angeles.
Of the Blady family, only
Frances and Phyllis survived. Frances thinks often of her sister,
brothers, and parents and of the promise a devoted daughter kept to her
father.