Obituary of Herbert Scherer

On October 23 2025 just 3 days short of his 101st birthday Herbert Scherer quietly and peacefully stepped into eternity to meet his Lord , friend and Savior Jesus Christ. He was ready and not afraid to die.

He is survived by his Son Michael Scherer and preceded in death by his wife Hildegard Scherer (nee Schmidt)

His final days he spent with the staff of Maxville Manor whom he appreciated greatly and grew to love in his way.

Herbert was born in Landau Germany in 1924. Inexplicably at the age of 3 and 1/2 he understood the injustice poured out onto Jesus and gave him the only thing he could at that age - his friendship.

This friendship would last his entire life. It sustained him through World War 2 , through his capture and incarceration in Russian concentration camps and through the rejection from family and country on his return to Germany in 1948.

In 1956 a voice told him to go to Canada.

He recounted the heartfelt warmth he experienced when in 1956 he left Germany and came to Canada, being received by the mayor of Hawkesbury at that time, Rosaire Gascon and his family.

Here in Canada he could begin a new life. Beginning a new life when you have seen so much suffering and inhumanity however was challenging and while he never backed down from the challenge he was many times ill equipped to meet them.  He found solace in nature which he painted and in poetry which he wrote.

He enjoyed the company of many. His good friends at Lac Rognon, the mayor of Hawkesbury and his family and more recently the people he met at Tim Hortons or the Vankleek Hill market.

As he advanced in years his heart became softer focussing  less on the weaknesses and failures of men which he could recount with unique clarity. He saw them with humor now more often. Though sternly he would warn of the danger of men like Putin.

Instead Herbert began trying to express love and appreciation for people he met in his German style.

He did not wish any great tribute as most of the people he spent his early life with have now since passed. And so we say farewell , Herbert until we meet again on the other side.

A celebration of life will be held on Friday, October 31, 2025 at 1 p.m. at Hillcrest Funeral Home, 151 Bond Street, Vankleek Hill, ON.

In lieu of flowers a memorial donation to Maxville Manor redevelopment fund may be made if you wish.

We leave this poem he wrote after he had returned from the war.

A poem he had wished his mother would have expressed to him but never did. such is life.

                                                                Farewell

                                                Autumn days, the air so fresh,

                                                The geese, they wing their way

                                                The shadows long now and so cool

                                                But yes, the birds come back in spring

                                                And you, my boy, and you ?

                                                Back from the war you come ?

                                                When will it be ? I miss you so.

                                                And if you don't, my heart so heavy

                                                My tears will run.

                                                But my prayers, oh my boy

                                                Are with you day and night...

                                                The geese are flying, high up there

                                                Over the northern shore they fly

                                                They will return, my boy, they will return

                                                When the winter's snows are gone and done

                                                And all the brooks are splashing down,

                                                And mildness fills the air,

                                                And flowers everywhere and in the night

                                                The nightingale, the sweetest sounds,

                                                When haze floats over the valley

                                                Oh, if you were here to listen, boy

                                                To the spring and the stillness of the night

                                                To be here, to inhale the scent of pines

                                                In the midday's heat and sun

                                                But if you come home, my boy, we will dance

                                                And dance, until, at dawn we will

                                                Both sink down, exhausted, in the grass

                                                And flowers, still wet with dew

                                                Of a newborn day.

                                                Herbert Scherer , Vankleek Hill