Bertha Meisler Helfand - Happy 100th Birthday

Denny, Birdie and Vivian - October 28, 2002

Looking back 10 years ago today...

Ten years ago today we celebrated the 90th Birthday of Bertha Meisler Helfand. I don't remember how many of us gathered to celebrate on that day, but I do remember one very special family friend, Vicki Fingerman, making a toast. As Vicki raised a glass she wished Birdie a Happy 90th and said, hopefully, may we all meet together in 10 years to celebrate "your 100th!" I remember looking around the room at the time and we all drank to the toast, but we wondered silently if Vicki's dream would come true. Sadly, today we are not together to celebrate Birdie's 100th, as we said our final good-bye's to Birdie on December 18, 2011, two days after her passing on December 16, 2011. Thankfully, many of her family were together to celebrate her 99th Birthday...and it was great. Joe Cantor, her nephew and my cousin-in-law, said of this 99th Birthday celebration as he recalled it beautifully in his eulogy for his Aunt Bert:

Above all, she loved her family: her parents and siblings, her husband, her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.  And her whole extended family.  And if she never knew it before, on her 99th birthday, just 2 months ago, she knew just how much her family loved her.

Getting to know Bertha (Birdie, Bertie, Mom, Grandma, Aunt Bert...)

Bertha Meisler came into this world on October 28, 1912. (Although her passport issued in 1973, displays her birth date as October 29, 1912). She was the first child of Jacob and Rose (Drucker - nee) Meisler, both immigrants from Delatyn, a village in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains. 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. I have no idea if Bertie was born in a hospital or at home.

For whatever reason, I cannot find a record listing our Bertha Meisler on the 1920 Census**; however, I did find her on the 1930 Census. She was 18 and employed as a bookkeeper. By the 1940 Census she was married to Julius Helfand and lived on Trinity Avenue; she was not employed.

Bertie/Birdie and Julius (Julie) were married on March 5, 1938, and shortly thereafter they sailed to Bermuda for their honeymoon. They returned to New York on March 19, 1938, sailing on the Queen of Bermuda. Their first child, Dennis (my husband) was born in 1942, followed by Harvey in 1945, and finally Vivian in 1949. As Vivian wrote in her eulogy for her Mom:

 I thought of the cold winter days we sat at the window watching my brothers play in the snow, while singing songs together.  I remembered in great anticipation watching her fry chicken for a fun day at Jones Beach with all our cousins, aunts, and uncles.  She instilled in me, and it’s one of her greatest legacies, her immense love of cats which has now been, I’m happy to say, passed down to the next two generations.  I remember vividly doing even the ordinary, mundane activities with her – shopping for weekly groceries and going to Tuckmans for socks.  Why were these the things that I remembered first?  Perhaps they spoke of the essence of a mother - what a mother should be to a daughter.  We did so much together and formed a bond from an early age.  I knew that she would do anything for me; I was special to her and she made me feel loved, as it should be.

Birdie, my mother-in-law

I saw an ad the other day on television. It featured people laughing, almost uncontrollably. It made me think of Birdie. For as many times as we "sighed" together and yes "cried" together...what I remember most fondly was just "laughing" together. I think sometimes we would make each other laugh, just because we knew if we looked too closely at a situation it might just bring tears to our eyes. Birdie liked to write. She wrote poems about and for those she loved. She wrote letters...usually to let you know she really was RIGHT about something. I still have some of those LETTERS, but today I came across one poem that she wrote in 2002 which talked about her childhood:

How well I remember the 1920's
in the ledger of my life I can make many entries.
It was fun and learning time
with parents who taught me values
of caring, sharing, honesty, and respect.
Nothing less would they expect.

My fun with friends was playing
store in the "lot"
where weeds and flowers nested
the bees and flies we had to swat!

For one penny Mr. Gersh the Grocer
provided the crepe paper for our show.
Draped around us we danced to and fro.
Fanny's veil made her a beautiful bride.
My cape encouraged me to dance with pride.

We played games of potsie, immies,
hide-and seek and ball.
It was just a wonderful time for all.

Mom was his morning... 

A day or so after Birdie passed away, Denny was talking to one of his first cousins. I listened to the telephone conversation and quietly Denny said "She was my morning..."  It's true, Birdie/Mom was his morning. Every day for probably more than 20 years Denny would call his Mom, just to say "hi!"  But he had one "strict" rule...he only wanted to hear good news, probably because for the most part there was nothing he could do to impact any of the bad news from 500 - 3000 miles away. So they would have their conversations, they would laugh, share memories, and basically just "check-in" with each other.  I miss those conversations...Denny knows I miss those conversations, because every once in a while he will look at me and say "Gee, I haven't heard from my Mom in a few days!" He smiles, I smile...and we move through the day, sans Birdie!

Here you can see a few of my favorite photos of Birdie...she was a classy lady...(if you click on the album, it will get larger).

A few  of my own memories of Birdie - my mother-in-law...

As I close today, I am thinking of many days spent with Birdie. When I first met Birdie it was on the occasion of my wedding to Denny. In those days she liked to have a drink and a cigarette. She also liked to gamble, just a wee bit. She bought lottery tickets and always assured her grandchildren that she would share her winnings. On more than one occasion I went to Atlantic City with her. She once took me via a gambling one-day bus trip from the Bronx. She sort of liked to travel, but always seemed to book a trip with the delayed plane or even once got all the way to our home with a suitcase that belonged to a complete stranger (well, she said "it looked like mine!") We traveled by train a number of times, but her antics on those trips I will have to save for another post. We were once stuck in her car on the George Washington Bridge for 3-4 hours with Daniel and Aaron (so long that vendors were selling drinks and ice-cream to us). She taught me to cook Jewish dishes. She liked to laugh, but she was also a great worrier...she worried enough for all of us. She comforted me when my Father died in 1979 and when my Mother died in 2006. And once, many years ago she shared a secret about her life (something she had in common with my own father).

Today, I learned she also shared that secret with the 1940 Census taker Leo Terragas.  I am thinking now she shared that secret with Mr. Terragas and many years later with me, because as she said about her parents in the poem about her Childhood - learning time with parents who taught me values of caring, sharing, honesty, and respect.

I am forever grateful that I had 33 years with Birdie, 33 years of caring, sharing, honesty, and respect. Happy 100th Birthday to my friend, Bertha Meisler Helfand. 

Care to share your favorite memory of Birdie?
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** (10-29-2012)I searched Ancestry.com again for the 1920 Census using only Bertha's first name, with parents' first names of Jacob and Rose living in New York City area. I found them. The spelling of the last name was wrong: MINSLER. That is why I was having trouble. They lived at 843 Crimmins Avenue, Bronx, NY. It was an apartment building. 

Related articles

• Jacob Meisler September 22, 1891 - March 23, 1989 (judysoped.blogspot.com)

Birthday Memories Are Sometimes Blurry

Blowing out 40 candles with my 5 year old

Most birthdays are a blur. Don't you agree?  I mean really, it starts right from birth. A blur, am I right?  You might have access to a really detailed birth certificate that indicates who else was present on your glorious day, but you certainly don't remember a thing about your birth day. Depending on your life's circumstances maybe only your mother remembers your birth. My father was overseas at the time of my birth, so it was just my Mom and I think my father's Aunt Mag. Of course, my two older sisters were at home waiting for me, but even at ages 5 1/2 and 2 1/2, I hardly think they remember the day of my birth with any clarity.

I started thinking about this phenomenon after my TIME Magazine arrived last Friday. The cover story is Why Mom Liked You Best - The Science of Favoritism by Jeffrey Kluger.  It is a good read, you will probably recognize yourself somewhere in it. I suspect all parents have a favorite. Sometimes it is just a little look, the color of the little one's hair, the shape of their hands...it just happens. And that's life.

What occurred to me though is that there are very few actual celebrations of my birthday that I recall. Maybe this has to do with being the third of four children; I was the youngest girl of three, with a younger brother to boot. Maybe it has to do with my parents not being able to afford memorable birthday parties. I survived.  That's what counts right?  Point of fact: I actually remember eight celebrations. I can't locate a photo for each, but I thought you might get a kick out of the photos I did locate.

CLICK ON THE PHOTOS THEY WILL ENLARGE.



My oldest sister, Joann, with me. I am in her babydoll stroller. This is the earliest photo of me. Circa 1950



Guessing this is my 2nd Birthday 1951.

5th Birthday celebrated as a guest on The Smokey Rogers Show

9th Birthday celebrated with Joann Eagen, Agnes Eagen, Michael Eagen, Nancy Tschiderer, Gloria Gurney, Marlene Sieger, Lucille Iavelli, et al. Can you find me?

15th Birthday Celebration Back Row L-R: Mary Brockley, Adele Shaules, Cathy Callagy, Judy Eagen. Front Row L-R: Mary Dell Miller, Judy Devlin, Gale Huguenard, Maribeth Lewer and Michelle Walsh

A very blurry 40th Birthday. L-R Judy Helfand, Debbie Fischbein, Dennis Helfand, unknown, and Dan Fischbein

54th Birthday Celebration: Enjoying a gift from "The Girls".

I would like to add that the following birthdays will always stay with me:

• When I turned four my family had just returned from living on Fort Campbell, KY. I received a boy baby doll for my birthday. I named him Michael. I think I chose that name because I had just spent some time with my Uncle Mike and Cousin Mike. I loved that doll. I had him for so long my Mom would take him to the Doll Hospital (yes, there is/was such a thing) to get a whole new body!
• When I turned 34 my husband, Dennis, asked me what was on my Birthday Wish List. I told him I needed a wallet. He asked me to tell him what brand. Jokingly, five months pregnant with our second baby, I said "Gucci!"  So off he went to Nordstrom's.  He picked out a beautiful wallet, but found himself speechless when the saleslady said: "That will be $298!"  I used that wallet until 2004! 
• When I turned 40 we were living in New Hampshire and Dennis gave me a surprise party. It was a great party with a cockeyed photographer, as you can see from the photos above. All of my friends pitched in and bought me a $300 gift certificate to The Balsams Grand Resort Hotel. Everybody knows the Balsams - it is "First in the Nation" location to report its results of the Presidential election. We used the Gift Certificate to celebrate Dennis' 50th Birthday!
• When I turned 50 my friends (The Girls) at Mercury decorated my office. It was so much fun. I left the decorations up for six months. Every time the company President would stop by my office to ask about a project he would step back and say: "Is today your birthday?"

Well, for all my talk about blurry memories, I managed to ramble on for quite a while. Today is my birthday. Dennis and I are going out for dinner and I am going to have someone take a photo. I hope it won't be blurry.

Tell me, what is your favorite birthday celebration memory?

Remembering November 22, 1963 and President John F Kennedy's Assassination

Somewhere in a trunk I will find a copy of the San Diego Evening Tribune dated November 22, 1963. There is also a copy of Life Magazine that was published November 29, 1963. I really don't have to take the time to find these mementos, because my memories of a day long ago, to which I will dedicate today's blog, remain vivid in my mind.

It was a Friday and I was a 14 year old high school freshman at Cathedral Girls' High School in San Diego, CA. Every Friday the entire student body of 400 young girls attended Mass at St. Joseph's Cathedral at 11:00AM. In procession we marched into the cathedral to take our pre-assigned seats in the pews. Sitting about five seats from me was another freshman that had a "forbidden" transistor radio in her purse. Shortly after 11:00AM this young girl slipped the radio out of her purse and, against all rules, she turned the radio on thinking she would be listening to the music of the day. Within minutes whispered talk was passed along the pew and we learned that President Kennedy had been critically wounded in Dallas, TX. This row of girls knew instinctively that we should certainly try to share this news bulletin with one of the nuns, perhaps Sister Anne Rita or Sister Eileen Leo (two young nuns who were more or less responsible for the freshman class). But how do we tell them without admitting that we were all breaking the school rules primarily by having the radio and secondarily turning it on during Mass?

We never had to admit our transgression, as suddenly Monsignor Rice appeared on the altar and whispered something to the young celebrant, Father Edward Brockhaus. And then, Monsignor Rice stepped to the pulpit and made the announcement: "President Kennedy has been shot and killed. When our Mass is concluded all students are instructed to return to their home room and be dismissed for the day. You will go immediately to your public bus and make your way home." We sat in shock, going through the motions of Mass and as the final blessing was bestowed on us all, we walked solemnly down the aisle...to be met by local news media, congregating at our Cathedral, the center of the Roman Catholic Church in the San Diego Diocese. Outside I found my older sister, Agnes; she was a high school junior and crying we made our way to the bus stop and took the 16 mile drive to our home.

When we arrived home our parents were waiting for us with our other two siblings. The television was on and remained on for the next three days, non-stop. In 1963 there were only the major networks on the three San Diego channels, NBC, CBS, and ABC. But each network channel covered this life altering event continuously: such as the transporting of the President's body to Air Force One with First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy walking next to the casket. (We did not have color TV, so we depended on the TV anchor to describe her pink suit, with matching pillbox hat.) Later we would see still photos of Lyndon B. Johnson being administered the oath of office aboard Air Force One. And still later we would watch as the President arrived back in Washington, DC. I remember we wept openly for three days. Our parents wept, a sight seldom witnessed by us. We all knew that our lives had changed forever. Within two days we were still watching live coverage as Jack Ruby shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald (the suspected assassin).

On November 25, 1963, John F. Kennedy, Jr's (John-John)third birthday, President Kennedy's funeral took place. My memory of this day is that of my family sitting in the living room watching the procession, a graceful First Lady, the funeral mass, and dignitaries from all over the world gathering to honor our fallen President. And then there is the heart warming memory of little John-John saluting his father.

Every year at this time I stop and remember President Kennedy. Somehow life has gone on, 45 years since this fateful day. And every year I have wondered how life might have been had November 22, 1963, passed without incident. Today, Brian Williams of NBC Nightly News posed the same question.

Daniel, John Kennedy, Jr, Aaron - March 1991

As an aside, I later met John F. Kennedy, Jr. He was a guest at our inn in March 1991. Imagine my surprise to realize that the young Mr. Kennedy had checked in late on a Friday night with his old college friend. The reservation was in his friend's name. Suffice it to say, as the weekend progressed I asked John Kennedy if I could take a picture of him. He agreed and we went to our owner's quarters. Our sons, Aaron and Daniel, then 10 and 7, sensed this was a special occasion. Aaron seemed to know that it was important for John to know how much his father had been loved by his parents and grandparents. He handed John a letter from his mother, Jacqueline, which had been sent to my father back in 1964, expressing thanks for the small donation my parents had made to the Kennedy Library. John stood quietly in our home, carefully studying this letter, his mother's note, rubbing his hand against the paper and then with a smile he returned it to Aaron.

Yes, it is Saturday. This is not a technical blog, but you do have to wonder about a nation that connected 45 years ago today with television, radio, newsprint, photos, magazines and a common bond of a shared loss. This was a day that shaped our lives forever.

Feel free to leave a comment of your memories from November 22, 1963.