Dr. Zsuzsanna Ozsváth has an endless supply of stories to tell. Some are heartbreaking, and others are full of mirth. This is one of the latter.
The tale begins in 1962 when Ozsváth and her late husband, Dr. Istvan Ozsváth, stepped out for supper with some friends in Hamburg, Germany.
When they arrived at the establishment, the group noticed that many of the tables and chairs were stacked to the side. The room, uncrowded when they arrived, swelled with more and more people as the evening went on.
“Suddenly four guys came up on stage,” Ozsváth recalled. “They didn’t look very clever.”
To Ozsváth, a classically trained pianist, the band’s rock ’n’ roll style was like oil is to water. The dinner party soon left in search of a quieter place.
“We were having such a wonderful discussion,” she said, “but we couldn’t talk, and we couldn’t hear one another because of the unbearable music that was playing.”
Fast forward a few years.
“We had just bought a television. I was in the other room and suddenly Pista [her husband] calls me in to see a band playing on a program,” Ozsváth said. “It was the band we saw at the restaurant.”
A guest soon arrived for coffee and conversation, and Ozsváth asked about the band playing. The friend paused and said, “Well, they’re the Beatles.”