"A Woman's Voice" Just Because

Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day, next week my first generation Irish American mother would have turned 94!  My Mother taught me a lot, including how and when to use my voice. I am sharing this video today because the message in the music is powerful and if you close your eyes you can superimpose your own images.





Looking back on this blog, I realize that I often write about A Woman's Voice. Any thoughts?

Memories Between the Bookends

I have been "away" for a while. The last few months I didn't feel much like writing. It is not that I had nothing to say, I just couldn't bring myself to write. You see, I have lost special people in my life. You might remember that last September I kept a promise to my mother-in-law, Bertha (Bertie) Helfand by sharing the history of her father, Jacob Meisler. Sadly Bertie passed away on December 16, 2011. She had turned 99 on October 28th. Then on February 17, 2012, my Auntie Agnes passed away, just about one month shy of her 94th birthday. Auntie was my Mother's twin sister. It seems many of my friends are going through the same sadness - the loss of a really wonderful generation, all in their late eighties and early nineties...so today I thought I would write about reconnecting with old friends and sharing memories.

Do you remember the 1968 Simon and Garfunkel album Bookends? The songs from the first side of the album explore a life journey from childhood to old age. The album opens with the Bookends Theme.

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you

I thought of this album today because yesterday my childhood neighbor and playmate found me on the internet. She found my blog and sent me an email. Turns out she has been trying to find me for years and the truth is I have looked for her many times over the years. Last night we talked to each other for the first time in probably 45 years.

Her name is Peggy. We lived on the same street from 1956 till the end of 1960. We played together everyday. Her parents were 10 years younger than my parents and her mother, Doris, really was just like June Cleaver. Peggy has a brother named Jackie. He, too, was part of our play group. We played in the canyon, thinking nothing of wading into a strange looking pond or digging into a side of hill. We played in the street - hide and seek and kick the can. We played in my father's 1949 Cadillac mourning car. We made mud pies and Peggy swears that we once made a "mud pie" that resembled "dog poop" and placed it on her parents' manicured front lawn just to tease her dad, Jack. Peggy's parents loved to go to the beach. I often went with them, as they had a boat and loved to water ski. (I watched.) We shared holidays - I remember their Christmas tree was always picture perfect...right out of a magazine. Peggy remembers listening to my sisters and me play/practice the piano. She still loves Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue and remembers watching my sister Agnes play it. We didn't go to the same school. We went to parochial school and Peggy and Jackie went to public school. But I do remember looking forward to the afternoons and early evenings as play time with Peggy.  In late 1960 my parents decided they needed to find a larger home so we moved away from Alpha Street. It was a very sad time...leaving Peggy, Jackie and Mr. and Mrs. Alford. I know now it was just as sad for them. We stayed in touch visiting each other. Eventually they moved, too; however, our parents made an effort for us to continue to spend time together. I remember spending weekends with the Alfords at their new home in El Cajon...it was wonderful. And then slowly, we lost track of each other.

Getting back to Bookends...there is another song At the Zoo.

Someone told me
It's all happening at the zoo.
I do believe it,
I do believe it's true.

It is true...many times Peggy and I, along with our siblings, went to the San Diego Zoo. It is a wonderful zoo...a place to play, to learn and make memories. I hope you will enjoy this little photo album of some of those trips.

Finally, I want to share a video of Simon and Garfunkel singing Old Friends



So here's to my Old Friend, Peggy. We are now both in are 60's. We have been apart for 50 years. We went to college, we married, we raised our children, Peggy became an artist. Strangely enough, from 1997 until March 2008, we lived only 10 miles apart. I'm hoping Peggy and I will be able to meet again in person before we are 70!

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?        
How terribly strange
To be seventy.

Peggy and Judy -Circa 2012

I would love to hear about your memories between the bookends.

Jacob Meisler September 22, 1891 - March 23, 1989

L-R Max Meisler, Jacob Meisler w/ two friends

120 years ago today, September 22, 1891, Jacob Meisler was born. Jacob Meisler is my husband's maternal grandfather and our sons' great grandfather. In celebration of Jacob Meisler's (Papa, Grandpa, Jake, Poppy, Uncle Jack) birth I am going to fulfill a request made to me in 1993.

The Backstory...

On June 8, 1993, Bertha Meisler Helfand (my mother-in-law) sent me the following request:

"I've been lax about having this "poem" printed like the one's you had made so I'm passing the job on to you.

I know that you're getting busy now - and since I've waited all these year to have it 'permanent-ized' - please take as long as necessary to have it done. You can make up 4 copies - keep one for yourselves & send me the bill."

Here is the poem Bertha (Birdie, Bertie, Mom, Grandma from the Bronx, Aunt Bert) is referring to; she wrote it for her father in honor of his 90th birthday, September 22, 1981.

A TOAST TO PAPA 

Congratulations & best wishes in your 90th year,
We're here to toast you loud and clear.
You're a man of integrity, dignity and pride,
You're refined and charming when we look inside.
With your taste in clothes you should be in "Who's Who,"
Bill Blass and Givenchy could learn from you.
You're King of the Cha Cha in Miami Beach,
Arthur Murray & Fred Astaire you could surely teach.
Your jokes are funny and make us roar,
Even tho we have heard them before.
So - enjoy your birthday - have health aplenty,
We want to celebrate with you until you are
120!

So, I needed 18 years...

I always listen to my mother-in law.  She said: "Please take as long as necessary to have it done." So, I took a little more than 18 years to print this poem and "permanent-ize" for all the family to enjoy. This week I decided that I would try to share a little bit about Jacob Meisler's life.  First, I will share what I know to be facts, then a bit of what might be urban legend, and close with some photos and documents for all to enjoy.

Just the facts...

1. Jacob (Jakob) was born September 22, 1891
2. His parents were Perle(Pescha) Bochner (nee) and Aaron (Euron) Meisler
3. Jacob was born in Delatyn - Delatyn is a village in the foothills of the Carpathian mountains. It lies along the Pruth River within Eastern Galicia. Before World War I it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; between the World Wars, Poland, after World War II, the U.S.S.R, and today, Ukraine. Delatyn was home to a vibrant Jewish community until the Fall of 1941.
4. Jacob had seven (7) siblings: Chaim Laib, Zigmund (Zelig or Sigmund), Chai Ester, Max (Mendel), Lena, Yette, and Alte. 
5. Aaron, Jacob's father, was a tailor. 
6. Aaron died in 1914, just before the family was forced to leave Delatyn.
7. Jacob immigrated to the United States in 1909.
8. Jacob set sail from Rotterdam, Holland, on July 31, 1909. He sailed on the S.S. Ryndam. He was listed on the manifest as Jankel Meisler, Austrian, Hebrew, from Belatyn, Austria, 18 years old, single. His next of kin was listed as Aron Meisler. His occupation was listed as tailor. He was held for "special inspection" because he "squints".  He had 25 dollars and he told the inspectors he was going to live with Isaac Strum at 150 12th Street, New York, NY.(Isaac was married to Lena Meisler - Jacob's sister). He arrived at Ellis Island on August 10, 1909.
9. Jacob's mother, Pesche/Pescha/Pesie, died in New York City November 9, 1937. According to her headstone, she was 80 years old. So that means she was born around 1857.
10. Jacob married Rose Drucker (nee)
11. Jacob and Rose had three children: Bertha (10/28/1912), Estelle (03/17/1914- 02/03/2006) and Sidney (05/22/1916 - 08/16/1995)
12. On June 5, 1917, Jacob registered for the United States draft. According to his registration he was living at 734 E 9th Street, New York, NY. He was employed as an operator for Singer which was located at 6-8 E 27th St. He is married with three children. He is described as short and stout. He claimed exemption from the draft because of his stomach and right eye. In answer to the question, "has person lost arm, leg, hand, foot, eye or both eyes or is he otherwise disabled (specify)?" he answered "right eye."
13. On June 18, 1920, Jacob Meisler became a Naturalized Citizen of the United States. He was 28 years old, 5 foot 5 inches tall, living at 341 Crimmins Avenue, Bronx, New York, with his wife Rose and three children. 
14. According to the 1930 Census, taken on April 22, 1930, Jacob and Rose Meisler lived at 823 East 147th Street, Bronx, NY. They lived there with Bertha, Estelle and Sidney. Their monthly rent was $60. Jacob's occupation is listed as a tailor and Bertha's occupation is listed as a bookkeeper. The census indicates that they had a radio set!
15. In 1933 Jacob Meisler owned a car; this is according to a photo provided by Bertha.
16. On March 5, 1938, Bertha Meisler married Julius Helfand, D.D.S.
17. In 1942, Jacob Meisler again registered for the US draft. His registration reports his address as 111 West 167th Street, Bronx, NY. His employer is listed as Casual Sportswear 224 West 35th Street, New York, NY. 
18. Jacob and Rose Meisler enjoyed eight grandchildren: Dennis Helfand, Harvey Helfand, Vivian Helfand, Stephen Goldberg, Beverly Goldberg, Phyllis Meisler, Myrna Meisler, and Sheri (Sherry Jane)Meisler.
19. Jacob and Rose's grandchildren are now parents and grandparents, as well.  
20. In 1947 the following Meislers served as "officers" of the Meisler Family Circle: Jacob Meisler (President), Sigmund Meisler (Vice-President), Max Meisler (Vice-President), C. Esther Holtz, and Lena Strum. 
21. Jacob and Rose Meisler bought a two family home at 1559 Pelham Parkway North, Bronx, NY
22. Jacob and Rose resided on the first level of the home at 1559 Pelham Parkway N, and Estelle (Stella) Meisler Goldberg and Benjamin Goldberg resided in the top level home with their children Stephen and Beverly. 
23. Jacob and Rose loved to dance. 
24. After Rose's passing, Jacob often would spend the winter months in Miami Beach, FL. 
25. On September 22, 1978, Jacob celebrated his 87th birthday at the home of his grand-nephew Robert Stuckleman (grandson of Zigmund (Sigmund or Zelig) Meisler).
26. On September 23, 1978, Jacob Meisler danced at our wedding which took place at Robert and Tina Stuckelman's home. In attendance were: Mildred Meisler Stuckelman, Bertha Meisler Helfand, Estelle Meisler Goldberg, Benjamin Goldberg, Sidney Meisler, Rosalie Meisler (nee Steiner), Vivian Rubin (nee Helfand), Marc Rubin, Stephen Goldberg, Mark Stuckelman, Nona Stuckelman, Joseph Stuckelman and Sylvia Drucker.
27. Jacob spent the summer of 1981 and 1982 with us in West Covina, CA.  He watched Aaron learn to swim and met Johnny Carson (got his autograph) on a return flight to New York City!
28. December 1982, Dennis and I visited Poppy in Miami Beach, FL. During this trip we met Jack and Rose Holtz. Jack was the son of Jacob's sister, Chai Ester (married to Israel Holz).
29. From 1985-1989, we visited Poppy where he lived at the Ambassador Manor, Long Beach, NY.
30. On March 23, 1989, Jacob Meisler passed away, just shy of his 98th birthday.
31. Both Jacob and Rose Meisler (nee Drucker) are at rest at Beth El Cemetery in Paramus, NJ.

 Some urban legends (items I have not been able to prove)...

1. I was told a few times that Jacob's father, Aaron, designed military uniforms for Franz Joseph I of Austro-Hungarian Empire. 
2. I have been told that Poppy is known in New York City fashion industry as the designer of the woman's Eisenhower jacket.

Photos and documents...

Over the years I have managed to gather copies or original photos and documents. I know that so many of you must have great photos of your own family that include part of the Jacob Meisler history. I hope that this little project will inspire you to send me the digital copies and I will add them to this post.  One more thing, you should know that of Jacob's seven (7) siblings, two died young and before marrying. According to Bertha (Birdie), Chaim Laib died at two years of age and Yette died in Delatyn at the age of 22 of tuberculosis. 

It has been my honor to have met descendants of Jacob Meisler, Chai Esther Meisler, Zelig (Zigmund/Sigmund) Meisler and Mendel (Max) Meisler.

Finally, a quote from Carl Sandburg...

"A camera testament, a drama of the grand canyon of humanity, an epic woven of fun, mystery and holiness - here is the Family of Man!"

Enjoy the journey (click on any photo to enlarge) and please add your own memories in the comments!

Jacob Meisler's passport verifies year of birth 1891 and immigration year 1909

Jacob Meisler's United States Draft Registration 1917

Jacob Meisler's Certificate of Naturalization June 18, 1920

Jacob Meisler's Family Listed in the US 1930 Census

Standing L-R: Estelle Meisler, Jacob Meisler, Rose Meisler and seated L-R Bertha Meisler & Sidney Meisler - Year unknown

Selig Meisler, Sol Strum, Jennie Singer Meisler, Bertha Meisler, Rose Meisler, Estelle Meisler, Ben Triebwasser and Jacob Meisler 1933

Selig Meisler, Jennie Singer Meisler, Rose Drucker Meisler and Estelle Meisler 1933

Meisler Family Gathering Includes Julius Helfand, Bertha Helfand, Benjamin Goldberg, Estelle Goldberg, Rose Meisler and Jacob Meisler (front right) - year unknown

Jacob Meisler's 1942 US Draft Registration

January 16, 1955- Dennis Helfand's Bar Mitzvah. L-R standing Harvey Helfand, Benjamin Goldberg, Jacob Meisler, Julius Helfand, Dennis Helfand, Sidney Meisler, Phyllis Meisler,. L - R sitting Estelle Goldberg, Rose Meisler, Bertha Helfand, Rosalie Meisler, Myrna Meisler. L-R Floor sitting Stephen Goldberg and Vivian Helfand

September 23, 1978: L-R Back Row Robert Stuckelman, Tina Stuckelman, Sidney Meisler, Dennis Helfand, Stephen Goldberg, Benjamin Goldberg, Vivian Rubin, Sylvia Drucker, Marc Rubin; L-R Front Row Nona Stuckelman, Rosalie Meisler, Mildred Meisler Stuckelman, Joseph Stuckelman, Bertha Helfand, Estelle Goldberg, Jacob Meisler, and Mark Stuckelman.  The Stuckelmans are Zelig Meisler's descendants.

L- R Bertha Meisler Helfand, Jacob Meisler, Judith Eagen Helfand, Dennis Helfand September 23, 1978.

Dennis Helfand, Aaron Helfand and Jacob Meisler- Summer 1981 California

 This is a letter written by Jack Meisler to Dennis and Judy. He wrote this to send me Birdie's poem for his 90th Birthday Party. Notice he says to give regards to the Stuckelman Family.

Jacob Meisler, Aaron Helfand and Dennis Helfand - Three generations Summer 1982 California

Summer 1982 L-R standing Jacob Meisler and George Meisler, L-R seated Belle Fertel Meisler, Judy Helfand, Aaron Helfand and Mildred Meisler Stuckelman. George and Mildred's father was Zelig Meisler, brother of Jacob.

Bertha Helfand, Dennis Helfand, Jacob Meisler, Daniel Helfand and Aaron Helfand. Four Generations September 1985.

Summer 1987 New Hampshire - L-R Back Row: Dennis Helfand, Judy Helfand, Richard Meisler, Joshua Meisler, Daniel Meisler. L-R Front Row: Aaron Helfand, Daniel Helfand, Miriam Meisler. Richard and his sons Joshua and Daniel are the grandson and great-grandsons of Mendel (Max) Meisler. (Max is in the photo at the top of this article).

Aaron and Daniel Helfand, Jacob Meisler's great-grandsons - March 1989.

Some of Jacob Meisler and Zelig Meisler's grandchildren and great-grandchildren: Beverly Goldberg standing in background. L-R Seated: Mark Stuckelman, Phyllis Levine, Myrna Korman, Renee Ponder, Nona Stuckelman and Robert Stuckelman.  Tucson, AZ October 8, 2010.

L-R: Jared Rubin, Douglas Rubin (Jacob's great grandsons), Jen Bender Rubin, Vivian Rubin(Jacob's grand-daughter) and Marc Rubin. August 7, 2011.

Bertha Meisler Helfand visiting with her great granddaughter, Meredith Yates. August 8, 2011.

September 2015 Dennis Eugene Helfand visited his Great Grandmother Pesie Meisler's grave. Jacob's mother died November 9, 1937, and she is buried in Baron Hersch Cemetery on Staten Island, NY.

The Help - Why Not Be Part Of The Living Proof

Cover of The Help

The recently released movie The Help continues to draw viewers. In fact this past weekend The Help won the box office take. As TODAY reported: “No matter how you look at it, the female-driven drama about the relationship between black housekeepers and the white families they care for in the segregated 1960s is fast approaching phenom status. It drew bigger audiences than two higher-profile remakes debuting this weekend, “Conan the Barbarian” and “Fright Night” — combined.”

The recently released movie The Help continues to draw reviewers. I am not here to talk about how The Help beat out a remake of Conan the Barbarian, but more about why people are choosing to see The Help even with many negative reviews.

Did you read Kathryn Stockett’s The Help? Did you see the movie based on The Help? I did both, but you should know that some reviewers did not read the book and some reviewers did not read the book or see the movie. But, again, I am not here to review either, but more to talk about why there is so much talk about The Help.

Some people, many women, seem very angry about this story. They are angry about the film. I am having trouble figuring out if they are more angry about our history or angry that someone who was not born until around 1971 took the initiative to tell a story about what is was like to be “raised” by a black housekeeper/servant/maid or to have been black and “raised” white children in Jackson, MS in 1963. Remember, Ms. Stockett was raised in Jackson, MS and was partly raised by her grandmother's black maid, Demetrie. So she does have a point of reference.

Here’s the thing. I was a freshman in high school in 1963, not a recent college graduate like the story’s Eugenia, aka Skeeter. I did not live in the “south”, but San Diego, CA. I did not come from a well to do family, certainly no household help. I am the granddaughter of Irish immigrants. I went to a very racially integrated all girls’ high school, with at least 35% of my graduating class being what we now refer to as “women of color” and never gave it a second thought. I remember  Medgar Evers being assassinated. And I know that Mr. Evers was assassinated just five months before President Kennedy. When these events were covered in the movie....I choked and starting coughing. The memories are strong. They will not leave us, even those of us who were not raised in the South.

I saw The Help with my husband. It was a week ago; we went to a Saturday 10:00AM showing, thinking the theater would be quiet. To our surprise the theater filled with people of all ages. The ladies sitting next to me were serious and contemplating each scene. They seemed to want to make sure the director had captured the essence of the novel. Did we clap at the end? Yes, but maybe for the same reason that Tucsonans clapped at the Together We Thrive Memorial Service. Applauding is something you do when you want to say thank you.

Thank you to Kathryn Stockett for taking a chance. Thank you for making us think. Thank you for making us want to learn more about how other people lived and live. Thank you for making us realize that we all have different life stories. Thank you to DreamWorks for producing The Help. Thank you to Octavia Spencer and Viola Davis for sharing their talent and their insights.

As I write this post, I wonder if what Kathryn Stockett is experiencing might mirror what Edna Ferber or Fannie Hurst experienced. Imagine what people thought when first they read Ferber’s Showboat or Giant. Imagine the reviews from Hurst’s Imitation of Life. The truth is, writing about race relations in our country has never been easy. Playing the part of a maid/mammy/housekeeper/house servant has never been easy. Marietta Canty did just that at least 40 times in her career. A remarkable career indeed.

This week, as a nation, we prepare to dedicate the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. At this time can we stop and just have a conversation? Can we read a novel, watch a movie and find what we have in common and build on that thread? Don't lecture, but teach. Imagine the fabric we might weave if we all just took time to listen to each other’s story.

Be part of The Living Proof, share your story here...please!

Related articles

• Seeing 'The Help' In Context: Jackson's Dark Side (npr.org)
• Octavia Spencer: You Can't 'Help' But Feel This Film (npr.org)
• How The Help Failed Us 
• Love 'The Help' But Please Stop Asking Me To Do The Same
• Melissa Harris Perry On "The Help": How Condescending or Incoherent is this Review?

Overbooked Children 20 Years Later

For the record I am not a mommy blogger. Or on second thought maybe I am one of the original mommy bloggers; consider that I started writing my yearly "painfully honest" holiday letters around 1985 and when I published Innovations for our Cranmore Mt. Lodge I frequently opined about raising our sons, Aaron and Daniel.  This past week my friend, Angela DeCicco, Facebook shared a New York Times article: Family Happiness and the Overbooked Child.

Whatever your current status is: parent with small children, grandparent, aunt, uncle, parent with teenagers, please read the article. I did. And it made me think back 20 years ago when our children wanted to participate in activities or learn a musical instrument.  We had to weigh each request carefully, not just from the monetary impact, but also impact on their time, our time and quite frankly their real interest.

So let's see. Here is a quick rundown of formal ACTIVITIES that Aaron and Daniel enjoyed: alpine skiing training and competitive racing (both), soccer camp (Daniel), little league baseball (Aaron), Nordic skiing training and competitive racing (Daniel), Cub Scouts (Aaron) and guitar lessons (both).  From my "edited" memories I am happy to report:

• Our spare closet still plays home to the alpine skiing trophies, medals, ribbons and I can still remember 10 year old Aaron returning from the 1991 Junior Ski Meisters Awards night. He had received a number of awards and exclaimed: "This was the best night of my whole life!"
• Daniel won some kind of recognition at summer soccer camp, but for the life of me I cannot remember the details. (But be assured I have photos.)
• In 1992 Aaron played baseball for the John Fuller Farm League and he was the first recipient of the James Reed Memorial Trophy for being the "most improved player."
• In 1996 Daniel participated in the inaugural "Ski to the Clouds" race. He still holds the record for the youngest person to x-country ski UP the Mt. Washington Auto Road.
• Guitar lessons...my clearest memory is: after multiple months of lessons, Grandma Birdie asked the boys to play her a song. They managed to "pick" out "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!" Grandma Birdie was a pretty good audience (just a little eye-rolling), after all that is a grandma's duty. But Aaron and Daniel soon put down the guitars. Playing a musical instrument seemed not to be part of their DNA...the lessons ceased.

Today I am writing this post to share with you my thoughts about providing opportunities for your children. I have mentioned before that my mother insisted that my siblings and I learn how to play a musical instrument. I have no idea what this cost my parents over the 15 + years that we took lessons. I was never good in sports, but my parents did allow my middle sister to take tennis lessons and we all experienced rudimentary horseback riding (it was free).  My brother played sports; he has a lot of trophies and mended bones.  But details aside, I have always been thankful for these opportunities which allowed me to learn and appreciate the arts.

Opportunities are not always wrapped in a formal training program, be it a camp or team. Sometimes we can provide our children with opportunities by allowing them to learn a skill and practice the skill in day to day life. For example, when Aaron was about 12 Dennis encouraged or invited him to learn how to cook breakfast for our inn guests. Aaron found he liked cooking and he could be rewarded with compliments and a small paycheck. If you like to write then encourage your children. My dad liked to write silly poetry. I had an uncle that loved to draw - pencil sketching, and all these years later that innate ability has come alive in my sisters and at least one of my nephews. My husband loves to play the piano. It comes naturally to him. As little boys, Aaron and Daniel watched intently.

To my friends that have little children or are expecting babies, enjoy the moments. Encourage your children, but remember they will always keep surprising you. Want to know what our "overbooked children" are doing now 20 years later?  Well, I am going to tell you.

Aaron and Dennis at the CIA - August 2, 2011

Aaron is now (eight years after his college graduation) enrolled in the Culinary Institute of America's ACE Program. In fact earlier this month we visited with Aaron at the CIA. (see photo of Aaron and Dennis).

Daniel plays a great harmonica (see YouTube video below- Daniel is the one on the right). And now we have learned he is teaching himself how to play the piano! And believe me, he gets it. Music is part of him. So what if he is not a classical guitarist...Grandma Birdie was proud to have Daniel play piano for her friends earlier this month. By the way, he took up downhill skiing again this year.

Daniel playing the piano - August 2011

The truth is most children will find their way, their passion.  And when they do, learning becomes fun and they will happily spend hours with their chosen art.

Your thoughts? Are you overbooking your children?

In Memory of Betty Ford

Image via Wikipedia

Tomorrow our nation will bid a final farewell to Betty Ford. She was our First Lady from August 9, 1974 till January 20, 1977. Not a long time, but an important time. When I learned of her passing on July 8th I thought back to that tumultuous period when we watched Watergate unfold. And then rather suddenly, Mr. Nixon resigned and Jerry and Betty Ford moved into the White House. I liked Betty, she was my mother’s peer. Betty was born April 8, 1918, 16 days after my mother was born. Don’t get me wrong, my mother didn’t personally know Betty Ford. But there is something about First Ladies that seems to capture our attention and we look for ways to identify with them, maybe because they make our White House a home.

Thinking back on my lifetime there have been 12 First Ladies: Bess Truman, Mamie Eisenhower, Jacqueline Kennedy, Lady Bird Johnson, Pat Nixon, Betty Ford, Rosalynn Carter, Nancy Reagan, Barbara Bush, Hillary Clinton, Laura Bush and Michelle Obama.

I was a baby for most of Bess Truman’s time in the White House; she was a little older than my paternal grandmother. I remember Mamie. I often wonder if my mother cut our bangs so that our hairdos would resemble Mamie's. I know in 1955 my mother-in-law wore her hair like Mamie Eisenhower. I also remember winning an essay contest for writing about President Eisenhower and my husband went to college with their grandson, David. There is too much to say about Jackie. We shared in her joy, every woman wanted have her natural good looks, we cried with her, we mourned with her and she taught us how to heal. Many years later I hosted her son, John, at our country inn. Lady Bird brought daughters into the White House. Linda Bird and Luci were my peers. We were able to share in their weddings. Pat Nixon’s real name was Thelma Catherine Ryan Nixon. To me Mrs. Nixon always seemed sad, but she glowed whenever she talked about her daughters and we enjoyed watching Tricia being married in the White House. I will come back to Betty. Rosalynn Carter was sweet and charming. I remember we were excited that a young girl, Amy, would be moving into the White House. In 1985, 26 years ago this summer, I had a private breakfast with President Carter in the Anchorage Airport. He was in the Alaska Airlines’ First Class Lounge waiting for Mrs. Carter to get ready to catch a flight. And the story goes on...Nancy, Barbara, Hillary, Laura and now Michelle. Each has let us into their life, just a little. But none will compare to Betty.

Six weeks after becoming our First Lady, Betty Ford underwent a radical mastectomy. Up until that time no one really talked about breast cancer, at least we didn’t talk aloud about it. We feared it. Betty Ford went public and perhaps saved many lives by her willingness to discuss it. Most forget that Happy Rockefeller, then Second Lady of the United States, underwent a mastectomy just two weeks following Mrs. Ford’s surgery.

Betty stood for much more. She worked tirelessly for women’s rights marching in Washington, D.C. for the Equal Rights Amendment. She was openly pro-choice. TIME magazine called her the country’s “Fighting First Lady”. In 1978 she and her family went public with her alcoholism and addiction to pain medicine. And once again, she stood tall and realized that the disease of addiction shadows almost every American family; she and her family took on the crusade to help people find recovery. In 1982 the Betty Ford Center opened in Rancho Mirage, CA. on the Eisenhower Medical Center Campus. I never met Mrs. Ford, but having worked in the addiction and recovery industry I did tour the Betty Ford Center. I met Jerry Moe, Vice President, National Director of Children's Programs for the Betty Ford Center and to this day he continues to deliver the long standing message of the Betty Ford Center... “serving patients, saving families”.

Tomorrow, July 12, 2011, services will be held to honor Elizabeth Ann Bloomer Warren Ford - Betty Ford. I understand that Rosalynn Carter will deliver one of the eulogies. I find comfort in this. Betty was a fighter, she was generous, offering each of us a part of herself. She taught us to talk about diseases that shatter a person’s life and a family’s life. She was anything but anonymous. She was brave and candid.

She wasn't afraid to dream!

Your thoughts...

BUtterfield 8 Remembering Elizabeth Taylor and My Dad

Cover of BUtterfield 8

This morning I woke to the news that Elizabeth Taylor had died. As the newscaster read the first take on her life's history I thought about my Dad. You see, the newscaster mentioned her role in BUtterfield 8. Do you know the movie? It was released in 1960 and it was this role that won her the first of two Academy Awards for Best Actress. The movie, according to IMDB, is about "the romantic life of a fashionable Manhattan beauty who's part model, part call-girl--and all man-trap."

I know you are probably thinking that BUtterfield 8 is my favorite Elizabeth Taylor movie. It is not, in fact, I have never seen BUtterfield 8. Surprised? Well, I was only 11 when the movie premiered and I think my parents may have thought the subject matter was too mature. But my father had a great sense of humor and from a very early age (let's just say kindergarten) I always had boyfriends. So in 1961 when my father would find himself in a position to introduce his three daughters (I was the youngest) he would say: "And this is Judy...we call her BUtterfield 8!"

The best part of this story is that I never got the joke. Finally, today I learned the plot line of BUtterfield 8 and now I get it! Plus, I now understand why my mother always frowned when my father would introduce me in this fashion. Oh, well....my father liked to kid and I liked it when he kidded with me and about me.

Today I would like to share with you, not just my little anecdotal story about my Dad, but also some of the really wonderful films that Elizabeth Taylor helped make remarkable. These are films that I have seen many times and will often stop to watch and say to my children..."here is a classic, don't miss it!"

Father of the Bride (1950)

A Place in the Sun (1951)

Giant (1956)

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Elizabeth Taylor was a fascinating woman. She had a passion for life and for living. For my entire life I have watched her life unfold. It was never dull and never without a purpose. She drove us crazy. She made us laugh. She made us cry. More often than not, she made us think about life and what can be. She was a star!

Do you have a favorite Elizabeth Taylor film? I would love to hear from you. 

While you think about that, enjoy the trailer from BUtterfield 8.





If you are having trouble viewing the video, you can see it here.

#LeadershipChat Meet Gert Boyle

Image by Jason McHuff via Flickr

Every Tuesday evening 8:00PM EST @lisapetrilli and @swoodruff co-host a live Twitter chat called #leadershipchat. It is always an interesting exchange. Tonight they plan to talk about The Accidental Leader. This chat may deal with political leaders or business leaders, but I thought today might be a good day to introduce my friends to Gert Boyle.

Do you know Gert Boyle?  I bet you know her company. Does Columbia Sportswear ring any bells? I would like #leadershipchat to meet Gert Boyle. Her colorful life story reads like a movie script and I hope you will read the full 2003 CNN Money article, but suffice it to say she was a stay-at-home mother and on December 4, 1970, her husband (then President of Columbia Sportswear) suddenly died of a massive heart attack.

"I had to go to work the next day. It was the fifth of December, just before Christmas, and we had all these deliveries to do. I was afraid all the seamstresses would quit. It was hard to find good seamstresses! We had just taken on an SBA loan. The government said that if you don't pay us back, what are you going to give us? Well, my husband had said that we'd give them our life insurance. He was 47! We'd also give them our house, our mother's house, and our beach house. How am I going to say to my mother, "Hey, you know that house you've been living in? It's gone." I couldn't do that. If you stay home and cry all day long, it isn't going to change stuff. And poverty was really not something I was looking forward to. So I went to work."

On January 27, 2011, Gert Boyle, now nearly 87(born around 1924)and still Chairman of the Board, participated in the conference call to announce Columbia Sportswear posting double-digit gains in quarterly, yearly earnings.

Maybe you are wondering why I even know about Gert Boyle. You see I first moved to snow country (read Alaska and then on to New Hampshire) in 1983. Until that time I had never seen snow fall. I had to learn quickly how to dress for the cold and lucky for me it was in 1986 that Columbia Sportswear introduced the Bugaboo Parka (a 3 in1 jacket).  The one you see in this photo was purchased in 1986 and you should know that just two weeks ago when the temperature in Tucson dropped to 18 degrees my husband was wearing this Bugaboo Parka.

But there is more to my story with Gert and her son, Tim Boyle. In 1983 they started an advertising campaign: "Before it passes Mother Nature, it has to pass Mother Boyle."  It was part of their entire campaign, even on their merchandise tags. It was the sort of campaign that stuck in your head. One day winter 1993 I drove to Attitash Ski Resort to pick up my two sons from a alpine ski racing event. It was a bitter cold day and I had to walk a long way from the car to the ski lodge. When I finally located Aaron and Daniel they were ready to go home, ski bags in tow.  We started towards the door when one of them discovered they had picked up the wrong black Columbia Sportswear ski bag. Now you can imagine trying to find the right bag in the confusion of a race day, many little boys and girls all with their black bags. One thing was missing from the bags...an outside clear pocket for a name and address card.

The next day I wrote a letter to Tim Boyle. It was a nice letter, I simply asked him if he were sure Mother Boyle had "passed" on the ski bags.  And guess what...about two weeks later Tim Boyle called me long distance, all the way from Oregon to New Hampshire. He liked my letter and he liked my suggestion. He also had a good laugh about how his mother might have reacted to a bunch of little skiers all with the same bag and no noticeable way to easily pick out their bag in a crowd. He said he was going to send my idea to his research and development department.

Columbia Sportswear Company is now in it 73rd year. I am pleased to introduce Gert Boyle to my #leadershipchat friends. Let me know what you think and in the meantime you can enjoy a photo of Dennis and me taken in Butte, Montana in front of the Berkeley Pit October 1997. Dennis is wearing the polar fleece inner jacket of his Bugaboo Parka!

Judy and Dennis October 1997

______________________________________________

Other interesting links about Gert...

Columbia Milestones (Here you can see a sample of one of their ads)
Our Company, Ourselves (April 1, 1998)
Gert Boyle Has a Vested Interest in George Bush's Fishing Fortunes (September 18, 1989)

Related articles

• Columbia Sportswear's 'Tough Mother' Outsmarts Attacker (inc.com)
• Five Reasons Why You'll Love LeadershipChat (brandimpact.wordpress.com)
• The (Mis-matched) Accidental Leader (brandimpact.wordpress.com)

Together We Thrive - My Perspective

The tragedy in Tucson began on a beautiful Saturday morning, January 8, 2011. I live in Tucson, Arizona, not far from the now famous Safeway. Gabby Giffords is my U S Congresswoman. That morning I went out to run an errand with my husband, and while we have long "liked" Representative Giffords' Facebook page, we did not know about her planned 'Congress on Your Corner' event. On our second outing of the day we were turned around by Pima County Sheriffs. We didn't know why, but something instinctively felt bad. So we agreed to go home. Within minutes of being home we learned of the nightmare that was unfolding just four miles from our home. Funny, some of my out-of-state friends called or wrote to make sure I was Ok, as they thought this was just the kind of event I would have tried to attend! I do not have to revisit all of this past week, but I was taken by the Arizona Star Tuesday morning headline "Obama Coming Here Wednesday".  I read the details: open to the public, free, University of Arizona McKale Center, doors open at 4:00PM. 

Cherry St view U of A

I made up my mind that I was going to try to attend this event that was being provided by our University of Arizona. My family supported me in my efforts. My reason for writing today is to give you just one person's perspective of the Together We Thrive Tucson & America Memorial.

Around 12:15PM, Dennis, my husband, drove me the 5 miles to the McKale Center. Upon arrival I was directed to walk to the end of the line. I found myself behind five young adults (two were veterans) - Chris, Tim, Juan, Valerie and Ann. I think it was Chris who determined that we were 3/10ths of a mile from the main door of McKale Center. Would we get in? We didn't know, but we did know that the center holds roughly 14,500 people. Chris did the math and figured we had a good chance, so for the next four plus hours we stood, for the most part quietly, you might even say reverently. Conversation was  simple, people introduced themselves to their queue-mates, some people read, some took pictures. We discovered that the college buildings (Steward Building) around us were open and available for us to take turns using restrooms. Imagine...you could take a break, get out of the sun, freshen up and return peacefully to your place in line. 

Together We Thrive T-shirt

As the afternoon progressed...volunteers walked the line and gave us guidelines to follow: no purses, no backpacks, photo ID. Surprisingly, people walked the line offering free water! We were grateful and happy. Even the one vendor who sold water was welcomed. At 3:45PM the line started to move. We moved slowly...at this point in the day I kept taking breaks sitting down on the curbside (too many hours of standing in the sun). The volunteers walked the line again only this time they were carrying the now famous T-shirts, navy blue with the logo Together We Thrive Tucson & America.  They offered us a free T-shirt. We were stunned. They didn't ask for money, they just said we could have a T-shirt. In fact, we could have more than one if we wanted.

We (Chris, Tim, Juan, Valerie, Ann and I) stayed together. They watched over me, knowing I was at least 35 years their senior. As we approached the ramp to the front door of the McKale Center we were offered Black and White ribbons to wear. These were given to us by the Homicide Survivors Inc of Tucson, AZ. "The white ribbon represents hope for a peaceful nonviolent society. The black ribbon is in remembrance of all who have died as a result of violence."  My fellow citizens: men, women, young, old, mothers, fathers, students, handicapped and I were happy to pin the ribbons on our blouses, shirts, coats, hats. We quietly walked up the ramp, willingly emptied our pockets for the security detail, passed through the metal detectors, and solemnly walked into the center to find a seat. 

Memorial Program

At this point, I was separated from Chris, Tim, Juan, Valerie and Alli. After all, I only had to find one seat, they, I knew, would want to sit together for this historical evening. I looked up and there in the first row of section 104 was one empty seat. Two young women asked me if I needed a seat. I smiled and nodded yes. Finally, I was in the arena. I was sitting! It was now 5:30PM. Looking down on the main floor I could see all of the media, the University of Arizona's Choir and Symphonic Choir, the Tucson Symphony Orchestra, the podium, and of course the four-sided closed circuit television screen. I realized that my seatmates had programs. I mentioned that I was hopeful I would be able to get one at the close of the memorial. Sweetly the man in front of me turned and handed me an extra program that he had received. We were indeed together for this evening. We were quiet, grieving and breathing a sigh of relief that we were together.

Suddenly, on the television screen we could see Dr. Peter Rhee and his fellow University Medical Center doctors. The only way to acknowledge these medical experts was to applaud them. And so, we applauded. When Justice Sandra Day O'Connor appeared, again we could only acknowledge her with our applause...and the next 30 minutes proceeded...Minority Leader Congresswoman Pelosi, Senator and Mrs. McCain, Senator Kyl, Secretary of Homeland Security Napolitano, U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder, Captain Mark Kelly...all seen clearly on the screen and applauded.

At precisely 6:00PM the Tucson Symphony Orchestra played Fanfare for the Common Man. It is a powerful and appropriate piece. The memorial program continued with a Native American Blessing, our National Anthem, a welcome by UA President Robert N. Shelton, UA Student Body President Emily Fritze, UA student and Representative Gabrielle Giffords' intern Daniel Hernandez Jr. followed by a reading from the Old Testament by Janet Napolitano and a reading from the New Testament by Eric Holder. Did we applaud? Yes, it was our way to come together and touch each other. 

Finally, President Obama came to the podium. He began talking to us. We might have been sitting in our living room with a neighbor, brother, uncle. He welcomed us, he introduced us to others, told us about each of our fallen and injured and shared a story of how he had just visited our U. S. Congresswoman and friend, Gabby. And then he said: "Gabby opened her eyes!" And that is when I knew or felt it was true..."together we thrive!"  We are not just surviving...going forward we can and will grow and flourish. 

For those of you who know me, you know a lot about me. You may know that I once had a private impromptu breakfast with President Jimmy Carter and I once hosted John F. Kennedy, Jr. at our inn. These are personal moments in my life that are memorable and remarkable, but January 12, 2011, I shared a moment of history with my neighbors. The evening ended with a poem To the New Year  by W.S. Merwin, U.S. Poet Laureate... 

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is 

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

Spontaneously, my seatmates, strangers to me, touched my hands and thanked me for sharing the evening. Today I would like to thank the University of Arizona for being there in every way for all Tucsonans during our tragedy, helping us to understand and begin the healing process. Together We Thrive Tucson & America.

As always, I welcome your thoughts, comments, or questions.

If you are having trouble viewing the video, you can see it here.

Related articles

• Tucson braces for Obama visit (politico.com)
• Obama visits Giffords, others in hospital (politico.com)
• Obama calls for healing at Arizona memorial (seattletimes.nwsource.com)

Christmas Holiday Letter Circa 1921

The other day I received a phone call from my first cousin Mary Lou Egan Gilman. She was in Tucson for a quick visit. Mary Lou's father (Patrick) and my father (Joseph) were brothers. We have known each other all of our lives and it is Mary Lou and her older sister Bridgie who have researched a lot of our family's history and they even organized the 2006 1st Cousins' Reunion which took place in Great Falls, Montana. While visiting with Mary Lou she mentioned that she has all of the holiday cards that I sent over the past 30 years. Amazing! After Mary Lou left I got to thinking about our paternal grandmother - Mary Ann Ryan Eagen. I wondered if she ever wrote holiday letters. So today I thought I would share with you what I think she may have written in her 1921 Christmas letter. (I chose 1921, as this is the only group photo we have of all 13 Eagen/Egan children.) I hope you will read on...

Enjoy a larger version of the photo by clicking on it!

December 1921

Happy Holidays,

As you can see by the enclosed photo all the children are still here with us in Denton, MT. This has been a pretty busy year for me with the new baby. I think you know William was born October 13, 1920. Can you believe that Martin and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary this past August 20th and Baby Billy turned one on October 13, 1921? Since Billy was #13 ( I am considering it a lucky number) and I turned 42 this past May...I think Billy may be our last.  I know when Lester Holt, the US Census taker, was here on January 17, 1920, (Joe and Mary's 2nd birthday) I was just barely pregnant with Billy. I think Mr. Holt would have fainted had he realized that come October there was going to be another Eagen to add to the 69 Main Avenue Eagen residence.

Though the war has now been over since late 1918 the economy is still not good, it seems like another depression. I am sure you realize that when the war started the money which had been invested in the railroad business was diverted to the war effort. Actually the last big project that Martin worked on was putting together several segments of the railroad between Arrow Creek and the Hoosac Tunnel. That project was only about 15 miles from Denton. Martin turned 50 this year, amazing he has been building railroads, in fact managing the business, since 1888 and he has seen a lot what with building lines across the Dakotas and then into Montana. Of course when his brother Jim died in 1911, Martin was really on his own here in Montana. He helped bring the railroad to a lot of the state...Great Falls, Augusta, Lewistown. We were thinking that things might get a bit better when Governor Dixon took office in January of this year. Do you know of Governor Dixon? His full name is Joseph Moore Dixon. He had been a US Senator representing Montana, but then he ran for governor. He is only the 7th governor of Montana. We are hopeful that he will be able to enact some of his reform proposals. Perhaps with a new governor and our new President Warren Harding there really will be a "return to normalcy." At any rate, I was excited to vote for the first time last November and appreciated that Mr. Harding was in favor of women's suffrage and all the children marveled at listening to his inauguration speech over the radio this past March!

Enough about the economy and politics. We now have eight boys (John, Pat, Mart, Jim, Dan, Tom, Joe and Bill), one shy of a baseball team! The older boys, John and Pat (and even Mart) enjoy following the news about Babe Ruth and his home runs, even though the Yankees lost the World Series. Maybe they will do better when the Yankees open their new stadium in the Bronx. Someone told the boys that the Yankees purchased 20 acres in the Bronx for their new stadium. They are also fascinated by all the talk of air travel and learning about the 1st US transcontinental air mail flight this past February. Most of our mail comes in by rail, it is hard to imagine the mail being flown across the country.

I haven't mentioned the girls yet. Margaret, our oldest, turned 19 this year. She has been such a big help to me with the baby and of course, the twins...Joe and Mary. Ann (17) and Ellen (14) enjoy spending time with Margaret. Imagine having three teen-age daughters in the house. Little Vera (6) and Mary (3) are in awe of their older sisters.  

John (18), our oldest son, is working as a farm hand. That is why in this photo he is standing behind Pat. When he came home from work we were trying to organize the kids for this photo and he didn't have time to change out of his overalls, so he picked up the baby and ducked behind Pat!

I realize I should stop here and get this letter ready to mail. Also, it is almost time to start dinner. We will have a quiet Christmas holiday.  We continue to offer prayers for the wounded war veterans and hope that the New Year will bring good news on the economic front.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,

Love,
Martin, Mary Ann (Mame), Margaret, John, Ann, Pat, Ellen, Mart, James, Daniel, Vera, Tom, Joe, Mary and Bill


P.S. I hope you like the photo. I also managed to get a copy of the 1920 Census Report(see below)...look at all of our names on there. You can click on either image and they will get larger. 

1920 US Census Denton, MT

 

Tough Times Test the Bonds Between a Town and Its Railroad