Typing in October 2011 by Nomi Kluger-Nash, of a handwritten letter from Yechezkel Kluger and Rivkah Schärf Kluger, describing Jung's funeral to Bruno and Erna Klopfer[1]  

Zürich, Sunday, June 11, 1961

Dear Bruno and Erna,

        Thanks again for being so helpful in our hasty departure, and in taking care of our left over affairs.

          You will be wanting to know about the closer details of these last sad days.  To start from the beginning: at Idlewild we both changed our tickets for the 11:30 p.m. plane – which gave us time to spend with Nomi and my sister and their husbands – who came to the airport.

           We arrived at Kloten about 1:30 p.m. on Thursday – Regine Heim met us and drove us to the Hurwitz’s. We found a room at the Hotel Rigihof nearby – where we stay until Wednesday (then to the Tiefenau).  About 4:30 p.m. we drove to Küsnacht with Lena and Regine into the driveway of Seestrasse 228, where a number of other cars were parked too. One of the young Baumann sons led us upstairs. Gret Baumann – she looks so much like Mrs. Jung! – and Franz Jung were there and greeted us very warmly. There was no depressive, funereal atmosphere at all.  Mrs. Baumann showed us into Jung’s bedroom. There on his oak-wood bed, he lay in sweet repose, his large hands folded over the white bed cover which was drawn up to his waist, a long-sleeved white shirt buttoned to his neck, and a sort of half smile hovering on his lips. As we stood gazing at him it seemed to me as though he were breathing, and I had the phantasy that he would open his eyes, chuckle, and make some humorously disparaging remark about the sad expressions. 

        A candle in a brass candle stick burned at either side of the bed on the marble topped nightstands. There were a number of wreathes and bouquets in the room, and on the bed itself, loose red roses were arranged in an oval, completely enclosing him – and a small cluster of roses lay just above his hands.  Buddha-like, he was enclosed in a mandala and also like Buddha, but in a very different way, he had a serene and “knowing” expression on his face. 

           Very likely we project when viewing the dead, but perhaps it was not only projection to feel the quiet, peaceful fulfillment of his expression, which struck me as being at the same time both remote and present. Though it sounds strange, I can only say that he looked beautiful – and I said this to Mrs. Baumann, who was standing near the foot of the bed. She agreed and suggested that I move to the other side of the bed to see him in still another light.

            He died a very peaceful death.  It was a slow and gradual passing, as Mrs. Baumann described it. He slept much of the time the last few days. His family was around him at the end. He knew he was dying – he told them so.  He would respond to their touch with a pressure of his hand, which gradually grew weaker and then stopped. 

        The feeling of the people here, as I gathered from the comments of his daughter, Ruth Bailey, Aniela and others, is that they are grateful he was given so long and full a life, and has now found his rest, being spared any tedious years of incapacity.  The day he died lightning struck a birch tree in his garden.

        Friday the funeral services were held at the church in Küsnacht – the large one up the hill on Dorfstrasse, next to the brook. It was filled long before the services began at 2:15. The church was filled with flower arrangements from many people and organizations, and there were a number of foreign analysts present.

              The body was not present at the church, but was cremated – as was Mrs. Jung’s body.  Shortly before the services began, the large family entered – a great grand-daughter (Dr. Baumann’s child among them) filling the first four rows. A Swiss flag, draped in black and enclosed altogether in black netting (at first I thought it was a black flag) was brought in – being held by someone behind one of the banks of flowers.  The organ played a Bach requiem.  Then the minister of the church recited a Psalm, and spoke very eloquently of the passing of the prophet who lived among them. There was a very long address by Schär – very fully biographical – a laudatory critique – a very warm eulogy by Böhler of the E.T.H. and a brief talk by some representative of a clerical-medical organization I’m not familiar with.  In between the talks the organ, or the orchestra the balcony, or both, played very beautiful Bach (or Bach-like) music. At the end, the Pfarrer Meyer minister mounted on the pulpit again and all rose while he said a fitting prayer – after which the black-draped flag was brought forward, and dipped deeply, after which the people slowly left the church.

          A number of us had been invited to the Jung house after the service, where tables had been prepared and tea and cakes were served to the well over a hundred people who came.  It was very generous of the family to have us all participate in this way in what would usually have been a private family funeral meal.

         The church service was quite long – about two and a half hours – and most of us had been there an hour before it began – and the mood at the house was in quite some contrast – with people milling about, maids threading their way through the throng with platters of tea and cake, and people from various cities meeting and greeting each other.  It was a kind of international congress – Adler, Baker, Bennet, the Bernhard’s, Moody, McCormick, Helena Henderson, Layard, Cahen, The Procheons [Paris], van der Heydt, etc. I didn’t see Fordham, but heard he was there. And of course, the people in Switzerland – Marlus, Barbara Hannah, Riklin, A. Jaffé, etc. etc.

        The atmosphere was animated for the most part – a sort of reactive liveliness – but here and there sadness and tears welled up in its midst.

          Following this gathering, there was a smaller one at the club house, and another at Jolande Jacobi’s for the foreign analysts, where we stayed till about 8 P.M.
            It was a rainy day Friday. During services – and only then! – it thundered several times.  Saturday  also a gloomy day, and the shock and depressive feeling came out again.  And now one gradually settled to the new state – without Jung’s living presence.  Rivkah is also recovering gradually – she was pretty hard hit, as you saw – but talking with those here and learning more about their experiences – and attitude – is bringing her back to a sense of acceptance.

          Now I must leave – it is 6 P.M. – and we meet Helena in town and have dinner together.
            We hope the seminar continued successfully – are sure it did so. Please share this letter with Marvin, Joe and Rita.  
        More anon, 

(in Rivkah’s hand):
                  Dear Friends, For today I just want to add my love and thanks and give my regards to the class.  I still am somewhat under shock and struggle my way through to the necessary understanding and acceptance.  It will take its time.  The attitude of the people here is helpful.

                      All good wishes to you all,

[1] This is my first typing of my father’s handwritten letter and I must still check on the spelling of four or five of the names and a word. In a lost email from Andreas Jung I received some corrections.
                In the margin of the first page someone had written “From LA Institute, 2010”.  I received the photo copy from Ann Lammers who told me that Tom Kirsch has the original.  Tom has told me that it is stored with others in the attic and that he’ll get it once he goes to all those files again.  It is my desire to put it in the Kluger-Schärf  archive of the E.T.H. among the Jung archives.