Happy Birthday Grace Paley (12/11/22-8/22/07)

I pulled this page from Ms Magazine in May 1980. This is a scan of a copy because the original page is now filed somewhere deep in my archives. Every once in a while I pull it out to read. And so today, when I heard mention of Grace Paley's birthday, I had to find it to read. In 33 years, I've probably read it at least 33 times and I'm still amazed by how much she packed into 400 words. Maybe someday I'll be able do that. 

One day I was listening to the AM radio. I heard a song: “Oh, I Long to See My Mother in the Doorway.” By God! I said, I understand that song. I have often longed to see my mother in the doorway. As a matter of fact, she did stand frequently in various doorways looking at me. She stood one day, just so, at the front door, the darkness of the hallway behind her. It was New Year’s Day. She said sadly if you come home at 4 A.M. when you’re 17, what time will you come home when you’re 20? She asked this question without humor or meanness. She had begun her worried preparations for death. She would not be present, she thought, when I was 20. So she wondered. 

Another time she stood in the doorway of my room. I had just issued a political manifesto attacking the family’s position of the Soviet Union. She said—go to sleep for Godsakes, you damn fool, you and your communist ideas. We saw them already, papa and me, in 1905. We guessed it all. 

At the door of the kitchen she said—you never finish your lunch. You run around senselessly. What will become of you? 

Then she died. 

Naturally for the rest of my life I longed to see her, not only in doorways—in a great number of places—in the dining room with my aunts, at the window looking up and down the block, in the country garden among zinnias and marigolds, in the living room with my father. 

They sat in comfortable leather chairs. They were listening to Mozart. They looked at one another amazed. It seemed to them that they’d just come over on the boat. They’d just learned the first English words. It seemed to them that he had just proudly handed in a 100 percent correct exam to the American anatomy professor. It seemed as though she’d just quit the shop for the kitchen. 

I wish I could see her in the doorway of the living room. 

She stood there a minute. Then she sat beside him. They owned an expensive record player. They were listening to Bach. She said to him—talk to me a little. We don’t talk so much any more. 

I’m tired—he said. Can’t you see? I saw maybe thirty people today. All sick, all talk, talk, talk, talk. Listen to the music—he said. I believe you once had perfect pitch. I’m tired—he said. 

Then she died.

__________

Grace Paley has written two books of stories, “The Little Disturbances of Man” (New American Library, paperback) and “Enormous Changes at the Last Minute” (Farrar, Straus & Girous, hardcover and paperback).

A Few Words about Bill Fitzgerald

I’m not naive. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect parent or a perfect marriage. But it’s important to give credit for trying.

And so, among the many thoughts I have about Bill Fitzgerald on the day of his memorial service, there is this:

Bill and Martha raised 11 kids to be strong individuals. Among them you can count 11 different ways of thinking and viewing the world.  Bill and Martha did this during some difficult times in the 60’s and 70’s. As if that weren’t enough work for them, they also taught and inspired so many others of us along the way.

Bill truly meant it when he greeted you or said farewell with “Peace” and I do too. Sending out lots of love to all the Fitzgeralds. Thanks for sharing Bill and Martha with the rest of us. 

Peace.

(With apologies for the slightly awkward photo that includes my brother and a few Fitzgeralds at awkward ages. Bill, center with glasses. Martha, kneeling right front)

Me, with Bill at Andrew and Leah's wedding

 P.S. Here are two places you can learn more about this amazing man.

http://memorialwebsites.legacy.com/bill_fitzgerald

http://www.lmu.edu/fame/inductees/fitzgerald.htm

The Navy Yard

People always ask me how far I am from DC. Well it depends on where you are going, what day it is, what time it is and whether there’s street closings for parades or marathons or a mass shooting.

Today, I am 26 to 37 miles away from the Washington Navy Yard which could be 40 to 50 minutes away on a good day. Or if I took Metro and the Navy Yard Station were open, it would take me about 50 minutes.

Today, 12 people were killed by someone who appears to have worked with them right there at the Navy Yard. As far as I know, I don’t know any of them. I also didn’t know anyone who was killed at the Pentagon in 2001. I didn’t know anyone who was killed by the “Sniper” in 2002. Or at any of the other mass killings that have occurred in the U.S. But every time I hear about one of these “events” I get sick to my stomach. I think about all those families whose lives have suddenly changed because of a person with a gun.

Today I went “off the grid” once it seemed clear that it was an isolated event that wasn’t going to effect how I got through my day. I knew it was all going to be bad news and I didn’t need to hear constant updates or hear speculation or hear or read what the people with anti or pro- gun agenda’s had to say about it. Still, it did effect how I got through my day. Those 12 families were on my mind all day and I wished there were a way to personally send them my good wishes.

When I signed back in to the grid, nothing I heard or read surprised me. It was neither less awful or more awful than I expected it to be. It was just awful.

There have been more than 100 mass shootings in America in my lifetime. I suppose the first one I remember for sure is the University of Texas shooting--the reason I am still paranoid in big open public areas, especially if there’s tall structures where a shooter might hide. Today’s “workplace” shooting is why I am nervous even in my own office, where people come to have their taxes prepared and are usually very angry that they have to pay taxes. It doesn’t help that the office is on a major street with several Federal office buildings on it, where people try to outrun the red lights at the corner and we hear screeching tires several times a day. And then there’s the sirens of emergency vehicles racing to help at nearby intersections or the highway.

I’m afraid there is probably nothing that will ever be done to reduce the number of mass shootings. Not as long as the NRA exists as it currently exists. I’m not interested in “taking your guns away” and truthfully, don’t think anyone is interested in that. But I am so weary of the so-called “Second Amendment Supporters” and their rhetoric and lies. 

Do they really believe that people like me don’t “believe” in the Second Amendment? 

Apparently some Americans think we can pick and choose which Amendments to “believe in.” I suppose I can see their point--I probably would have been against Prohibition, but I’m one of those suckers who follows the laws--even the ones I don’t like. I don’t like paying taxes, but I do it. I don’t like stopping at the stop sign as I leave my neighborhood, but I do it. I don’t like that I have to listen to pro-gun free speech, but I am often forced to do so. I don’t like that women sometimes choose to have an abortion, but I honor their right to make that choice in private. I could go on and on.

I’m pretty sure that today’s events won’t change anything. People will still buy guns. Some people will buy automatic guns, claiming they’ll use them for hunting when the reality is that no one needs an automatic gun to shoot a deer. Or if they do, they are lousy hunters and lousy marksmen/women. Some people will kill other people with their guns that they buy claiming they need them for self-defense. 

None of this makes sense to me. It breaks my heart that I know there will be more days like this. I know there will be more days where I feel sick to my stomach knowing about families experiencing horrible grief because someone with a gun decided to kill family members of people they do not know.  

I guess I just think that there could be solutions to Americas’ gun fetish. Actually, we already know the solutions, we just aren’t brave enough to do what needs to be done. I know there will always be guns, but it seems to me there are plenty of smart things that could be done “around the edges” of this problem that would help prevent days like today.

At the end of this long day I turned to Jon Stewart’s Daily Show because sometimes a little humor helps us understand the truth. I did my research and know you can read the truth about how the NRA has written our gun laws (search: Tiahrt Amendment) but Jon Stewart may do it better. 

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-january-16-2013/there-goes-the-boom

Here’s a transcript if you prefer reading:

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2013/01/17/1179688/-Must-see-Jon-Stewart-exposes-how-the-NRA-GOP-PREVENT-the-ATF-from-enforcing-current-gun-laws

Ann Bernice Henderson Goodwin March 1920 - July 2013

Dear Aunt Ann, 
I know you are resting in peace because you always brought a sense of peace with you everywhere. But I am selfishly feeling bad because I am now without any uncles and aunts and not feeling very peaceful. Of course I knew this day would come, but I still can’t believe it. So I pulled out Margaret’s old photo albums and have gathered some photos to share here.

However, I don’t seem to have any photos of one of my favorite memories which is when you and I travelled to the Mother House of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth to visit Sister Mary De Lourdes (Bernice Schuelle) for her 90th birthday. She was closer to Margaret's age, but her family had been neighbors in Leavenworth and you were given her name for your middle name. 

We’re all somewhat jealous that you are all surely partying now that you’re all together again. I’m guessing we all kind of wish we could do some kind of time travel and get together with you all in Aunt Kay’s back yard -- all the various generations together telling stories. I know we are all grateful to your generation and our parents’ generation for your efforts to share so many birthdays and holidays when we were growing up. 

My consolation is that I feel you will always be with me, at least when I’m working on genealogy. I can’t get over how much you accomplished before any of us had computers -- ordering microfilm and sitting at those readers searching for names on census records. Then making copies and sending letters with stories you remember. My work is a continuation of yours and your persistence inspires me to keep working on the Adams and Sesma stories.

We were so lucky to be loved by you. 
Peace, Joni

[note to readers: Ann was my maternal grandmother's youngest sister. Their mother, Anna,  gave birth to 12 babies. My grandmother Margaret was second-born in 1899; Ann was last-born in 1920. My mother Betty Ann was born in 1921 and in many ways Ann and Betty Ann were like sisters. As a child, I always thought of Ann as an aunt like my mother's sister Peg. In fact, there was very little differentiation between "degrees" of relation for any of the generations -- so when I started doing genealogy, I had to learn the difference between aunt, grand-aunt, great-aunt, etc. Likewise for grandmothers -- it took me many years to figure out the difference between Anna and her own mother Elizabeth so that now I use Anna Harrington Henderson and Elizabeth Ringwald Harrington in order to remember.]

Here are some photos. The B&W photos are from photo albums of Margaret's that I had in storage, waiting for me to have time to scan them. I don't have any here for the late 60's on. Then I have a few from John Henderson's 100th birthday in 2008 and other recent events.

Anna Henderson, Ann
(1920, can't read others (written in faded pencil); could be Tom & Frank? Maybe Margaret?)

Arkansas 1921
Margaret & Verne, Mother (Anna) Henderson holding Betty Ann
John Henderson, Ann Henderson

Betty Ann and Ann

Ann Henderson
Leavenworth, KS

Ann Henderson, age 4

  
  St. Louis
"Francis & Thomas, Ann, B-Ann, Bob, Paul Jr, Peggy, Walter"

  

 

Ann, Betty Ann, Peg, Joani & Friends
Strotman St. St Louis

  

Grandma Harrington, Adele & Clarence, Anna, Ann
Adele (Henderson) & Clarence Hatch Wedding Day 1925

 

         

                         

Betty Ann in her H.S. graduation dress. Ann.

Peg, Betty Ann, ??, Ann
This must be 1938 because Betty is wearing her high school grad dress. 

 

Bill & Ann Goodwin. Peg & Joe Fairchild

V-mail from Ang Adams to Ann & Bill, 1944

Sisters 1960. Margaret, Ann, Adele, Kay (and someone in mirror)
(this must be Gertrude Harrington & Arch Johnstone's 50th anniversary.)

Early 1960's. Goodwin's backyard?? 

 

At the Adams, McLean Ave. 1960's
Joe Fairchild, Ang Adams, John Henderson, Bea Henderson
Ann Goodwin, Margaret Russell, Betty Adams, Frank Henderson, Peg Fairchild
That's Tom Adams next to Ang and I think that's my back walking away.

My baby shower in 1979.
Back: Peg, Barbara, Cathy, Mimi
Front: Margaret, Ann, Me, Chris, Marian. Betty in front.

2008, John's 100th birthday
Betty, Ann, Barbara, John

Betty, Ann, Mary Bruemmer

Ann and her girls. Barbara, Maureen, Nancy

Ann, Marian. At Mark's after the 100th birthday party

John Henderson, Ann at Joe Fairchild's funeral

   

Ann, Peg Fairchild, John Henderson.
At Cathy Fairchild's after the funeral.

Wuthering Heights

Once upon a time in 1970, there was a young woman who left everyone who loved her behind in California and made her first stop in her world travels in Stony Brook, New York to earn her Masters Degree in English....

Forty plus years later her younger sister, wrote to the SUNY Stony Brook English Department and Special Collections Dept at the the Library and and after some research they found and sent her pdf’s of the older sister’s masters research paper. During that year when the older sister was thousands of miles away, the two sisters wrote many letters back and forth. The older sister tried to encourage the younger in her A.P. English class when she read Wuthering Heights and then wrote a paper on it. 

The younger sister did not know the older one was writing her own Wuthering Heights paper; “Emily Bronte: Completeness of Perception in a Fragmented Age, A Study of Wuthering Heights.” 

Oh, the younger sister always knew that the masters research paper was "on one of the Brontes" but when she received the email with the pdf of the masters paper, she really lost it and could barely breathe. 

The Sisters

Of course, all who knew the older sister, know that writing about Emily Bronte was not the only thing the older sister was doing during that year. After that year she went on to further and farther travels spending time in Oakland, Berkeley, Detroit, Paris and other European cities, Moscow, and finally appearing to settle in New York. For a few years the two sisters finally lived a mere 4 hours apart and were able to visit each other instead of writing letters. 

Then the older sister had cancer and left for good on February 6, 2001 and the broken hearts she left behind this time were too numerous to count and too shattered to heal smoothly.

The older sister did not believe in an after-life but every now and then something comes along and we get to feel the older sister with us again. The sight of the pages the older sister typed herself made the younger sister feel like she had just received another letter from her older sister.

Until we meet again. 

With love from the younger sister. 

February 6, 2013