Learning about myself

through my family’s past | PART I

I’ve been struggling with direction lately. Questioning my skills and work, looking into what jobs to research, thinking about what jobs to eventually take. This is a large transition phase in my life, leaving me with questions I can’t seem to answer for myself.

I was on the phone with my dad the other day. “Expect something in the mail soon,” he said. I didn’t know what to plan for with this expectation brewing, but I waited.

The past few days I took some time to myself. I was able to spend time with mother nature; a much needed time. It was a time to recharge, not think about my design work, or any work for that matter, and just reset overall in the beautiful mountains of Wyoming.

When I returned from my Wild Iris mountain trip, the mail my dad said to expect had arrived. It was a large envelope with three stamps on the top right corner, and dad’s perfect handwriting with my name and address. I opened it and the first piece of paper was a letter written to me:

Allison:

I have never really talked to you very much about your grandmother and grandfather, I apologize for that! As the TV commercials say…it seems that I am turning into my father, somewhat “reserved” so to speak. When I was going through some old business and tax files in my quest to get rid of stuff collected over the last forty plus years, I ran across these enclosed documents.

As you can see from my mother’s short auto-biography that she wrote in 1968…somewhat timely since she passed away less than four years later at 56…she accomplished quite a lot. I see a lot of her in you and your sister. And if you look at the big picture, it seems I married your mother, a strong, thoughtful, outgoing and busy woman like my mother. Funny how these things work out and come back around.

I have enclosed a newspaper article and several military documents related to my father’s army career. With the exception of the videotaped interview with my father and your aunt Leeann that was made much later in his life, he purposely never talked about what he went through in the army. He was a hero. They do not give out Silver Star medals willy-nilly to just anybody. He went into World War II as a junior officer and came out of it as a lieutenant colonel. So he must have been promoted rather quickly to go through lieutenant, captain, major, and then lieutenant colonel in those war years, and then retired as a full colonel. I know you only met him once when you were very young, but I wanted you to know something about him and your grandmother.

I love you very much,
Daddy

The emotions rushed in. I moved on to the next few pieces of paper: my grandmother’s autobiography. Written by Rosalie Patricia Aumiller Spiegel, 1968. A photocopy of her typewriting. A piece of the grandmother I never knew.

Baltimore, Maryland, the eighth largest city in the world, never blinked an eye when I was born — it was too busy with a blizzard that covered the city. February first of nineteen seventeen was my entrance into the front bedroom above my father’s grocery. I was number three (that in-between child) of five.

My first recollection of “being” was watching the mice run up and down the chimney of our house. I remember faintly the fenced yard of white washed boards, the alley beyond that the hucksters would travel, the organ grinder man and my domain — the large kitchen. I felt ten feet tall the day I, at five, “cleaned” that kitchen and stood by to receive all compliments when mother came in. When dad became a salesman, we moved into a row house of brick with white marble steps. (The bane of all girl children who had to scour them clean each Saturday.)

I call these years my childhood. Most were happy; partly because I could walk to the park and my grandmother’s house. It was city living; with five cent movies, three cent ice cream cones, the open air markets with tenders shouting their wares and my favorite, cardboard doll furniture. We moved again when I was nine. The suburbs were all the inducement I needed to become a “tomboy”. I did find time to play “house” with dolls and the whole bit; dressing up, boxes that became furniture and food scrounged from the kitchen. My “in-between” years were spent in “play acting”. All one needed was a garage with a blanket for a curtain, actors and dad’s joke book. Two pins would get you in to see the greatest show on the block.

I changed schools three times in our moves but it didn’t seem to make me an honor student. (They do say travel broadens you.) Junior high found me in a commercial course even though I wanted to be an art teacher — just because teachers have three months vacation. I did attend the Maryland Institute of Art for two years; after school one afternoon and Saturdays. At fifteen one decides ones life work you know. Therefore I changed my course in High School to cover the subjects needed to be a teacher — a mistake. I flunked German and English and time was passing. As my sister was to be married soon I took another year of a commercial school and went out to work.

The working world! Eight dollars and sixty cents a week for a stenographer, working under the National Recovery Act. Two fifty was my very own, the rest to mother. I did enjoy working though. I must have, I worked for seven years in one company advancing the IBM machines, my favorite. (Wish I could have invested then in their stock.) My building was downtown, three quarters of an hour by streetcar. I often was a stage door johnny to get autographs at the theater nearby. This I did on my lunch hour.

While working these seven years I attended night classes at the “Y”. I studied drama under a Notre Dame instructor for four years, public speaking from a University of Maryland teacher, English and Economics I took at Goucher College. I took tap dancing, ballet, piano, singing lessons — anything that would help me to overcome an inferiority complex. Three courses in Psychology I tried under Dr. Quvedo. I joined every theater group in town at one time or another. The little Theater where I met my husband, rehearsed three nights a week with one musical play while doing another on the week-ends. (So what did I do for recreation???)

I wanted to sing with an orchestra, I wanted to be an actress, I wanted to be a reporter, an interior decorator — ambitious but I just must have been too lazy to work on a career so demanding as these. I did succeed in working in a professional play, acting with (oldies now) Thomas Gomex and Sally Rand in “They Knew What They Wanted”. It was to be Miss Rand’s comeback to the legitimate theater. I did work in radio for two years, doing plays. Any part from newborn to granny was my forte. Also did several “Columbia Workshop plays at the CBS station.

Needless to say I met my husband in theater. It was a Gilbert and Sullivan Theater group. He was Double Bass and I sang Coloratura — direct opposites. He is quite and I noisy — let’s face it we needed each other. The year was 1940. Although he was called into active service after his ROTC at college we became engaged before Pearl Harbor and married Valentines Day of 1942. I was twenty-five then and looking forward to all the adventures an army career offered. I was not disappointed. We traveled. A honeymoon in Florida, back to duty in Georgia, to Texas, where my first child, Bonnie Leeann was born in July 1943. On to Georgia again then Kansas, North Carolina at Fort Bragg, from where George left to go into combat. I returned to Baltimore and worked for a time with the social workers at John Hopkins while awaiting the arrival of my second, Terrence Lynn (a girl) — slipped that name in while George couldn’t object. My doctor was Dr. Alan Guttmacher now head of Planned Parenthood. (Boy, if he could see me now with six children). George returned and we had still another girl, Lizbeth Ann, born April 22, this time at home. I wanted to experience this delivery.

We had to go to Japan to have our two boys — must be the climate. George Jr., July 19, 1948, two months after my arrival in Tokyo and John-Alan Quentin (for fifth born) are our two boys names. We had a four year tour in Japan. Quite eventful, what with the Korean conflict breaking out while we were just across the sea. We were on twenty-four hour alert. George was in Censorship which entailed many intelligence reports and responsibilities.

Japan offered many culture benefits. Where there is household help available, there is an abundance of time. We, as Army representatives, were invited to Imperial Gardens performance of Bagaku, Duck netting, Tea Houses and Kabuki Theater. Social activities were many and varied. I had my chance to study overseas too. Ceramics, two schools of flower arranging, doll making and art courses. All this mixed with my work with orphanages, hospitals, missions and a closeness to religion one only gains from these mission fields.

The University of Illinois was our next assignment. Professor of Military Science, Infantry Office. Responsibilities for the wife of a Lt. Colonel included “aide” to the Commanding Officers wife. Programs and their publicity were part of my “job”. Much of my art and other training came in handy. All that is learned is valuable they say! I like to think so.

These four years proved successful as George was able to take courses at U of I that would later count towards his Masters and Advanced certification in Education. What a better way to fit for a second career when retired? (I always hoped my typing his papers helped.) Our only Illinoian, Rosalee Ann, was born July 11, 1953 at CAFB.

A tour in Korea for George in 1958, left me in Champaign. I crammed in more studying at things I was interested in. Studied Creative Dance under Judy Martin Miller of New York and several excellent teachers from the U of I staff. Many well staffed courses were offered by the Community Arts. It consisted of Orchestra, Modern Dance, Art and Theater groups. I took advantage of the art and dance groups, studying art under Prof. Sabatelli and completing my first oil painting.

Upon returning from Korea, George was stationed in Chicago for several months. Commuting week-ends. Transferred to Decatur, he studied at Milliken and student taught in a Decatur school. He commuted from Champaign until his retirement from the Army in 1961. This left us still in Champaign. Where to move??? We visited Guadaljara, Mexico, St. Petersburg, Florida, Arizona — no decisions. Finally decided the children’s schooling would have to come first before “retiring” the second time. George teaches in Unit 4.

With all in school I became interested in “not growing old”. I became a Beauty Counselor, studied skin care, make-up, gave talks to teens in school and counseled all who would listen. “Make America Beautiful” was our motto before Lady Bird. Having this background I applied to Robesons for cosmetic working during Christmas. (Ulterior motive was to complete my quarters for social security). This was a good reason to work and I had my husband’s permission. As a result of my work, I am on call for fashion show modeling (they sometime need us older gals). I sometimes model clothes and walk through the store giving introductory offer cards from Revlon, Estee Lauder, etc. All this allows me to satisfy the “ham” in me; ie: alter-ego?!?

Through the “Y” here in Champaign, I took a Personal Defense course. This served to whet my appetite for Judo and Karate which I studied from a time also. I am hoping karate will be offered again this year. Yoga is another love because I am interested in personal fitness. My one hour a week may help a little. Modern dance class and gymnastics are included this year for me. Sandwiched in between my classes I am President of our Parish Library, giving book reviews and reading. (One of my weak points is I sew and they say one who sews never reads.) I purposely became involved so that I would read. Book club at schools — I’ve given 2 book reviews so far. I managed an apartment house we bought in 1958 until it sold in March of 1969. Doing plumbing, electrical work, cleaning and landscaping.

In my quest for knowledge I logged over one hundred hours in Civil Defense, taking Shelter Managers Course through U of I extension. This gave me a certificate to teach Shelter managing. I completed the Rescue Course granting me a card assigning me as a Rescue Squadron in case of a disaster. Medical self help course is always good for a mother to know. These CD courses are free and any expenses pertinent are tax deductible. In conjunction with CD activities I took part in several Hospital drills. Doing make-up of wounds, burns and amputations or being a victim having hysterics.

A Radiological Monitoring course, a U of I extension course, entailed weather reading, Geiger counter and Dosimeter reading, problem solving — a tough course, but it was the Communications course that prompted me to get a more basic education in math and problem solving. This Communication course involves electronics and although I mastered four words a minute in Morse Code, you need five words to pass, I felt I should not tackle the written test until I had a better understanding of radio and electronics to really build upon. This course aims toward a Novice License and General License for Amateur Radio Operator.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch; I gave my three older girls to the fellows of their choice. They have given me four grandchildren. Most of my children have inherited some artistic abilities. Bonnie received a four year scholarship to the Fine Arts College of U of I. Teri studied Theater Arts aiming to teach Speech and Drama and hopes to complete in 1970. Betsy (Lizbeth) happy and content to marry after working one year. George, Jr. is studying medicine and Jay (John-Alan) looking toward a career in Architecture. Leeann is studying through Famous Artist Schools and is interested in fashion design. She is a Sophomore in High School. Jay is a Junior.

On my list of things to do, is learn to fly, play an organ, dig artifacts as inspired by James Mitchners “The Source”. Sorry, but I gave up the idea of sky diving!!!

Written by Rosalie Patricia Aumiller Spiegel, 1968

This history brought me to tears. Literally, I was crying after reading this, taking it all in, because my grandmother was such a badass. Her passion, drive, and spirit are so incredibly inspiring. I’m in awe.

While reading, I thought of some things we have in common with one another: We are both Baltimore born, we both had the faint, short idea of becoming an art teacher, we both love art in general, all kinds. Hardworking is an understatement, we both have the love for “IBM machines.” We both have a love for education of all kinds. I too plan to overcome my “inferiority complex”; that’s self growth right there! I have ambitious career goals, as did she. I’m “noisy” on occasion, have a great love of adventure and a great need to help others. The overall want to experience all the experiences is amazing. There’s a little wit and sass in there I definitely see in myself. We both have a love of different cultures, landscaping, and plants in general. We both push the ones we love to also learn and succeed. Did I mention our love of the arts? She’s driven, hardworking, and a little sarcastic. Personal fitness is important, she’s full of emotion and drive, and she’s a problem solver. We both challenge ourselves to do the next big thing, following our quest for knowledge.

Until Part II, going over the other papers that were included in the envelope from my dad, telling a beautiful story of my grandfather, I’ll leave you with my favorite quote:

All that is learned is valuable they say! I like to think so.

I catch myself saying frequently, “I think so too.” Thoughts from grandma Rosalie? Maybe so. On my list of things to do: definitely go skydiving.