Ruth Posner, who fled Nazi-occupied Poland as a young girl and has since inspired countless through her work in theater, dance, and Holocaust education, took a silently crushing sadness with her: the death of her only child, Jeremy. Seldom was the tragedy brought up in public remarks or interviews. However, Jeremy’s absence was the only personal grievance mentioned by Ruth and her husband Michael in their farewell letter, which they shared shortly before they committed assisted suicide in Switzerland.

“We had an interesting and varied life and except for the sorrow of losing Jeremy, our son, we enjoyed our time together,” they wrote in an eerie email they sent to friends and loved ones, detailing a life full of shared joys and undying love. The magnitude of the mental burden they had been carrying in silence for decades was exposed by that succinct but intensely personal line.
Ruth Posner – Personal and Professional Overview
Category | Details |
---|---|
Full Name | Ruth Posner |
Date of Birth | July 20, 1929 |
Date of Death | September 23, 2025 (aged 96) |
Place of Birth | Poland |
Nationality | British (naturalized), Polish-born |
Profession | Actress, Dancer, Holocaust Educator |
Major Affiliations | London Contemporary Dance Theatre, Royal Shakespeare Company |
Spouse | Michael Posner (deceased 2025, aged 97, assisted suicide) |
Child | One son, Jeremy Posner (died at age 37) |
Residence | Belsize Park, London |
Honors | British Empire Medal (2022) for Holocaust Education and Awareness |
Reference |
Ruth had a 17-year artistic career at the London Contemporary Dance Theatre, where she met her husband. Before moving to London with Ruth, Michael, a chemist by trade, had travelled much and worked for UNICEF. They created a house that was replete with music, books, and conversation. However, they also based it on a common tragedy that was rarely discussed.
The couple’s lengthy journey together underwent an emotional sea change when Jeremy passed away at the age of 37. The loss of her child caused Ruth, who had previously experienced the unfathomable anguish of the Holocaust—losing almost her entire family to genocide—to experience grief of a different type. Although historically recognized and widely lamented, Holocaust tragedy had always hovered over Ruth’s life. However, personal grief—the kind that never receives official accolades or public recognition—seemed to be more profound.
At the age of sixteen, she snuck herself out of Poland to the UK after escaping the Radom Ghetto as a kid, hiding behind a Catholic identity, and being imprisoned during the Warsaw Uprising. Her sense of moral purpose, especially in educating future generations, was impacted by such experiences. She devoted the latter years of her life to openly discussing the Holocaust with students and public audiences because she firmly believed that the best way for society to combat hatred is through collective memory.
However, Ruth was remarkably reserved about Jeremy, even though she was candid about her pain. No public memorial services were held. There were no interviews about his life or his demise. This guarded quiet implies that her grief was too intense, too intimate, and possibly too holy to reveal.
We do know that Michael and Ruth shared a home for almost 75 years. And although though they had led rich and thought-provoking lives, their greatest source of grief remained the loss of Jeremy. At a Swiss assisted suicide clinic, the option to die together was presented as a response to the silent deterioration of vitality—diminished hearing, decreased energy, fading eyesight—rather than a response to terminal sickness. According to the couple’s writing, they were only “existing,” not “living.” Given how vigorously they had pursued life, even into their 90s, that distinction felt particularly significant in their instance.
In the UK, discussions surrounding assisted dying have resurfaced as a result of their passing. Even though neither Michael nor Ruth had a fatal illness, their situation highlights the importance of respect and choice when making end-of-life decisions. Ruth had previously spoken in favor of legalizing assisted suicide, pointing out that it would be challenging to plan such a trip overseas. Her narrative now serves as a powerful illustration of why some older couples, not out of desperation but rather out of introspection, seek ultimate control over their life.
Ruth was described as “an extraordinary woman” by the Holocaust Educational Trust, which encapsulated her unwavering dedication to remembering. “Even though she was in her 80s at the time, she made it her goal to share her experiences with as many young people as she could,” said Karen Pollock, CEO of the Trust. It demonstrates a moral urgency that went beyond her own comfort level that she took on this duty in her eighth decade of life.
In many respects, Ruth’s sense of urgency might have been heightened by her grief over Jeremy. In addition to losing a loved one, losing a son meant losing the future she had worked so hard to secure. Additionally, it required facing the brittleness of continuity once more, a reality that Holocaust survivors well comprehend. Her voice became a vehicle for historical truth because it was full of living experience. However, a mother who had buried her child was behind that voice.
Close friend and playwright Sonja Linden called Ruth “the most vibrant, amazing woman” and her husband “a remarkable, clever, intellectual man”. Ruth had stated time and time again in recent years that she was ready to leave, Linden said. Her speech was calm conviction without any theatrics. She’d say, “We’ve had enough.” “We’re prepared.” Ruth and Michael’s obvious emotional readiness revealed a life that had already experienced more suffering than most people could handle.
It is impossible to overlook Jeremy’s absence while considering Ruth’s legacy. It punctuated her existence with a quiet that could never be filled by public speaking, performance, or acknowledgment. However, it also served as a reminder that private sorrow frequently precedes and occasionally even feeds public service. Perhaps Ruth used her resolution to transform unresolved grief into something incredibly meaningful by teaching, sharing, and combating antisemitism.
Her passing also touches on the more general topic of how cultures care for the elderly, especially those who are dealing with severe trauma. Ruth had to cross international lines to pass away on her own terms even after receiving the British Empire Medal in 2022. Her support of law changes pertaining to assisted suicide now seems both relevant and foreboding.