102-Year-Old Survivor Connects With Woman Who Honors Her Family

For years, Deborah Cole polished two small brass plaques embedded in the sidewalk outside her Berlin apartment, honoring Holocaust victims Taube and Lotte Ibermann who once lived there. Then in July 2020, she received a message that changed everything: Lotte's younger sister Sonja was alive, thriving at 97, and wanted to talk.

The connection began when Sonja's grandson Benjamin, a journalist in Australia, stumbled upon Cole's essay about Berlin's memorials to Nazi victims. The essay mentioned his great-aunt and great-grandmother by name. He reached out immediately.

Today, Sonja Ibermann Cowan is 102 and living her best life in Melbourne. She serenades her great-grandbabies, shares uproarious meals with her three daughters, and celebrates high holidays with her rabbi. Her singular accent blends German, Scottish, and a touch of Australian twang, tracing her remarkable journey across continents.

During the pandemic lockdowns, Sonja and Cole began regular video calls. Sonja appeared on screen with a bright smile and rose-colored lipstick, looking decades younger than her years. Her memory remained crystal clear, and her cheeky Berlin humor shone through as she joked about being "eingesperrt" (locked up) during COVID restrictions.

The small brass plaques that sparked their friendship are called Stolpersteine, or stumbling stones. Artist Gunter Demnig created them as the world's largest grassroots remembrance project. More than 100,000 now lie embedded in sidewalks across 31 European countries, marking the last known homes of Holocaust victims who have no marked graves.

Why This Inspires

What began as a simple act of respect transformed into a profound friendship spanning 10,000 miles. Cole's gesture of polishing memorial stones for strangers became a bridge connecting Sonja to her Berlin birthplace and bringing her family's story to life for a new generation.

Sonja's family joined the calls throughout the pandemic, sitting rapt as their Bubbe (Yiddish for granny) shared stories of fear, flight, heartbreak, and surprising joy. Her grandson's research project became a family journey of discovery and healing.

At 102, Sonja has zero interest in wasting time. She chooses to spend it building meaningful connections, celebrating with loved ones, and sharing her story so others never forget.

The memorial stones outside Cole's apartment no longer honor strangers but friends whose resilience and joy prove that even the darkest chapters can give way to light.