Louis Sebastian Berger (October 12, 1927 - August 17, 2014), was born in Prague, Czechoslovakia, and moved to New York with his mother, adoptive father, and sister when he was a young child. A graduate of Princeton University, he earned a Master of Music degree from the University of Texas at Austin, a Master of Science degree in physics from Trinity University, and Doctor of Philosophy degree in psychology from the University of Tennessee.
Dr. Berger had brilliant careers in engineering, music, and psychology. He played beautiful music as a cellist in the Boston Symphony Orchestra, provided healing therapy and leadership as a clinical psychologist in San Antonio, Texas, and published numerous intriguing articles and books on subjects ranging from mathematics to psychology to philosophy. He spent his last years reading and writing radical philosophical works, listening to music, researching diet and fitness, debating politics, playing bridge, loving his wife, and relishing the quietness in rural Monroe County, Georgia. His last book will be published posthumously.
This memorial website was created in memory of Louis S Berger, beloved husband, author, psychologist, cellist, engineer, and friend. Please feel free to leave a memorial tribute or story and upload your own pictures of Louis.
As a young child living in Prague, Louis often went to the market by himself to purchase milk, beer, and various other groceries for the family. One of his favorite foods was a “new pickle” straight from a big barrel in the market store. He liked the pickles so much that he would buy one every chance he had, but he usually didn’t have enough extra money to buy a pickle. His solution was creative and ironic.
Louis and his family were avid readers and owned many books. He would take one of the less read books to the market book vendor, sell it for whatever was offered, and use the money to buy a pickle. He never knew whether his parents realized what was happening to the books or if they even noticed the dwindling supply. His love of books throughout his life was intense, but he loved those new pickles even more.
Louis loved cats. He had no love for dogs, but he absolutely loved cats. Soon after we were married and Louis came to live in Georgia, a stray kitten showed up at our home. This frightened, hungry, half-grown cat hung around, crying, in the pasture and woods for a few weeks before he finally gained enough courage (or hunger) to approach the food we offered. As hungry as he was, he still managed a pathetic hiss while he ate. Years of love brought out a sweet personality in the cat we named Romeo, but he remains easily frightened.
When discussing options for Louis after the stroke, the hospital counselor mentioned that Pine Pointe Hospice allowed pets. After making the decision to move Louis to Pine Pointe, I immediately thought of bringing Romeo, but just as immediately dismissed that thought because I knew that Romeo would be too frightened in the strange environment to be any comfort to Louis. Romeo would probably stay hidden in the closet if he was brought for a visit.
I next had the thought, “I should get a kitten”. A kitten would not be frightened like Romeo, and might provide some comfort to Louis (and me). My next thought was “What am I thinking? I don’t need the extra work of caring for a kitten while Louis needs my total attention”. However, a day or two later, I again had the thought, “I should get a kitten”, but I again dismissed the thought. When I had the “I should get a kitten” thought for the third time, I decided that maybe something in the universe was trying to send me a message and maybe I should pay attention. So I called my cousin, Lynn, with whom I had shared several kitten adventures, told her that I thought the universe might be telling me to get a kitten, and asked her to go look for one. “But, don’t look too hard,” I added, “because if you have to look hard, it’s not meant to be”.
A few hours later, Lynn showed up with an amazingly beautiful, loving, and already-litter-box-trained kitten, complete with food, litter box, collar, leash, and toys. Within fifteen minutes of their arrival, the kitten had jumped from Lynn’s lap to Louis’ bed, where she spent most of her time until Louis passed away. I named her Marissa for the great nurse who cared for Louis while he was in ICU. Marissa (the kitten) took great care of Louis while he was in hospice, and continues to take great care of me. My thanks to the universe.
