Genealogy

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    Riffing on Love with Marc Chagall

    ByLee Ann
    This entry is part 13 of 13 in the series The Creative Process Unmasked
    Could this image spark an ekphrastic riff?

    Riffing is what jazz musicians do when they go “off script” and play variations on the main musical thread. Or what improv performers do to build on an original skit by taking it in a new direction.

    Poets riff too, when creating what’s called ekphrastic poetry. The word comes from the Greek and means “to speak out” or “to show in full.”

    In an ekphrastic poem, the poet reflects on a piece of visual art, maybe a painting or sculpture, and then responds to it by writing.

    You, my faithful followers, will know that this is one of my favourite types of poetry, and that I often find inspiration from photos I’ve taken.

    I recently attended a workshop led by the lovely Lorette Luzajic at The Ekphrastic Review. Over two hours, Lorette showed us five different pieces of art – paintings, sculpture and even a hawk mask from the Kwakwaka’wakw people of British Columbia. Each time we had 10 minutes to write in response.

    I know! I can’t think of anything more fun either!

    One of the paintings was “Birthday” by Marc Chagall (1887-1985). You can see what it looks like here. Lorette explained that Marc Chagall was propelled as an artist by two subjects: love, and his Russian-Jewish cultural background. Everything he created was a celebration of these themes. When he painted “Birthday” in 1915, Chagall had just been granted permission to marry the love of his life, Bella Rosenfeld, from her parents. The couple is shown levitating with joy.

    Here is my riff on love and culture:

    FOR LOVE

    Mary Margaret McSorley, 
    who insisted her middle name was Marguerite 
    also insisted, in 1923
    she’d marry Stephen Granger
    for love.

    Stephen’s real name
    was István Gerencsér
    his Hungarian-ness only one thing 
    he had to hide in 1920s Buffalo –
    the bigger secret
    was his divorce
    rendering him in the state of New York
    unable to marry again
    pending a petition to a judge
    which he never sought.

    Instead, they drove to Batavia
    to marry in secret
    and then returned to Buffalo
    the marriage kept secret 
    so Mary could continue to work at the telephone office
    something forbidden to married women.

    My grandparents’ forbidden love
    defiant love
    a foundational love
    in my family.

    For me, there’s nothing like the delight I feel when my imagination takes off, sparked by another kind of art altogether!

    You can try this yourself, why not? Reflect a bit on a favourite piece of art, maybe research something about the artist’s inspiration or theme then ask yourself what you have to say about this particular theme. What does this piece reminds you of? What do feel when you look at it? What would you add to what the artist has created? Your response could be a story, a short essay, stained glass, fabric collage, a song…

    See what you come up with when you allow yourself to riff for just 10 minutes. You may be surprised!

    Lee Ann

  • WOMEN OF THE SAPPHIRE Part 3

    ByLee Ann

    I’ve been inspired by my mother’s sapphire ring to reflect about three generations of women in my maternal line. This blue stone has strong symbolism, and there are several characteristics that have been associated with it since medieval times. These include power, strength, kindness, wise judgement, protection, good fortune and spiritual insight. I’ve presented my maternal great-grandmother and grandmother previously in this series; today I’m thinking about my mother and what sapphire qualities she possessed.

    Mary-Jane Granger Eckhardt (1929-1998)

    Mary-Jane Granger’s engagement portrait, 1953

    My mother was one powerful, strong woman. She was never afraid to “tangle” (her word) with anyone, be it the notorious neighbour my sister and I called Motorcycle Lady, or the doctor treating me for chronic pneumonia (she insisted I be tested for cystic fibrosis), or the local tavern that thought a sign saying “Gentlemen Only” could keep her out.

    Mary-Jane taught me that I could do anything I put my mind to – and this I believed because, well, my mother said so! In our house there was no concept of limitations for girls, probably because Mary-Jane was the one who fixed the broken toasters, claiming my father didn’t know which end of a hammer to use (something he happily agreed with.) Also, she was better at math than she was at English, or sewing, or gardening. In another era, I know she’d have made a crackerjack software designer.

    She responded to people with kindness first and she did this even when others did not:

    • When an Indian family moved into our townhouse development and all the other neighbours stayed away, making whispered remarks about curry odours, Mary-Jane went over to introduce herself and struck up a long-lasting friendship with the beautiful young mother, learning about the lady’s culture and delighting in her wardrobe of exquisite saris. 
    • When my cousin Brian’s third wife, Karen, first came to his mother’s house to meet the family, nobody said very much to her. Karen told me after mom died that she felt awkward and unwelcome until my mother crossed the room to shake hands, saying, “Hi. I’m Aunt Mary-Jane.”

    Mary-Jane loved babies and children. One of the best pieces of advice she ever gave me (and she gave me plenty of good advice) was when I had my own children. She said: “just love them.” This I have found to be a fine piece of wise judgement. What if this were every parent’s guiding mantra?

    Like the fascinating sapphire stone itself, my three maternal ancestors – Josephine, Mary, and Mary-Jane – were multi-faceted. There was much more to their personalities than the particular sapphire characteristics I’ve described. But I’ve enjoyed viewing them through this “blue lens.”

    May I learn from them to exhibit strength, wise judgement and especially kindness.

    Something to ponder: Do you have any Sapphire Women in your life?

    Mary-Jane (wearing her sapphire ring!) circa 1949

  • WOMEN OF THE SAPPHIRE, Part 2

    ByLee Ann

    In this three-part series, I’m peering down my maternal line, inspired by my mother’s sapphire ring and the qualities that this blue stone has been credited with for centuries. I’m searching the lives of my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother for sapphire qualities: power, strength, kindness and wise judgement, as well as the bringing of protection, good fortune and spiritual insight.

    Part One looks at Josephine Robinson McSorley, my great-grandmother. Today I’m reflecting about:

    My grandmother: Mary Margaret McSorley Granger (1900-1977)

    To me, she was “Mimi,” the grandmother who took care of me, my sister and brother on the rare occasions my parents were away; the one whose house my sister and I went to every summer for a week (a big trip from Niagara Falls to St. Catharines, once on the train!); and the one who let us have “sugar in the bowl”: a wicked sprinkle of brown sugar on the bottom of our cereal bowls, covered with milk when we’d finished our breakfast.

    Mary McSorley, circa 1920

    I know little about her childhood. She apparently didn’t talk much about it to anyone, except to speak about her father, who, she said, “had the wanderlust.” Surely his absence shaped her character, as did the financial struggles her mother endured while he was away, but I can only speculate about this. What I do know is that Mary McSorley came of age in the decade known as the “roaring twenties,” in a city – Buffalo, New York – that was one of the largest industrial cities in the country, and home to more millionaires per capita than any other in America.

    Mary belonged to the era when women won the right to vote and hold office, and when fashion reflected dizzying transformations in social customs for women. Every article of women’s clothing was trimmed down and lightened, waistlines dropped, hemlines rose, and long, lush hairstyles gave way to short, cropped bobs. Despite prohibition laws, little hip flasks were all the rage, and Mary drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes and wore makeup.

    Mary McSorley Granger with her niece Constance Granger, circa 1927

    Her son Robert, my Uncle Bob, tells this story about Mary, a story that must have come from her or my grandfather:

    Mother was the one who actually took a shotgun away from somebody at a party and then went into a bedroom and found an opening and dropped it down in between the wall joists. It’s probably still in there and somebody’s going to knock that house down and wonder how the shotgun got there. That was in Buffalo.

    That was some sapphire power and strength!

    She married my grandfather Stephen Granger in 1923, skipping town with only their two best friends along as witnesses. Their marriage certificate is full of lies, the biggest one being that this was Stephen’s first marriage. It was not; his first wife was still alive and according to New York State law, it was only sometime after 1925 that he would be allowed to petition the court for permission to re-marry.

    Which means my grandparents entered willingly and deceptively into a marriage that was not legal. I believe they simply did not want to wait – and I’ll mention here that they remained childless for six years; this was no “shotgun” wedding. It was, however, a great love match. From all accounts they were very devoted to each other until death did them part in 1960.

    The way I look at it, Mary’s ability to love fiercely and defiantly is another facet of her sapphire-style strength.

    Speaking of defiance, Mary was employed as a telephone operator at AT&T at the time of her marriage, and back then, women had to quit their jobs when they got married. Does it surprise you to know she withheld the fact of her marriage from her employer?

    Mary was known for her cooking and pastry skills, for entertaining, for her sense of humour. My father once said he only ever remembered her smiling. Uncle Bob describes her as loving, funny, quick-tempered… and kind, another sapphire quality. Here’s a story about his mother that stands out in Bob’s mind:

    Black Bridge was part of the old Welland Canal, a railway bridge that ran over it. There was no water running in that canal in the forties; it had long been filled in. Kids hung out there, and so did the so-called rubbies or street bums. During the war years and just after, when jobs were not plentiful for people, somehow word got out among the unemployed that if they came to the Granger house on Norwood Street, they could usually get a piece of Mother’s pie or a pork sandwich.

    Mary McSorley Granger: powerful, strong, kind. She’s one of my sapphire women!

    Something to ponder: What a life your grandmother lived! So much happened before she was Mimi, Nona, Grandmama, Nanny…

  • WOMEN OF THE SAPPHIRE, Part 1

    ByLee Ann

    This was my mother’s ring. She bought it at the jewelry store in St. Catharines where she worked before she was married, before money had to be stretched for food and children and was not available for pretty things.
    In the ancient and medieval worlds, this celestial blue stone signified power and strength as well as kindness and wise judgement. It was believed to bring protection, good fortune and spiritual insight. Even before I learned the symbolism, I felt this ring represented my mother like none of her other possessions. Sapphire was her birthstone, which is possibly why she bought it, but its unique design speaks to the woman she was. You notice this ring. You couldn’t help but notice my mother.
    I started wondering if my grandmother and great-grandmother also may have had sapphire-like attributes, and if these may have cascaded down through three generations of daughters. So in a three-part series of posts, I’ll be peering down my maternal line, looking at the characters and behaviours of three female ancestors, looking for some blue sparkle!

    My maternal great-grandmother: Josephine Robinson McSorley (1861-1936)
    I have only a few stories about Josephine, yet what I do know of her seems to provide evidence of some sapphire qualities.

    Josephine Robinson, circa 1890

    She was born in Tonawanda, New York, the forth of seven children. When she was seven, her nine-year-old brother Jacob drowned in the Niagara River. During her youth, her father was frequently unemployed, disabled with inflammatory rheumatism and unable to work by the time Josephine was 19.  She moved to Buffalo then, and worked for a time as a servant.
    Josephine married my flamboyant great-grandfather Richard McSorley in Buffalo in 1894, when she was 33 years old. Richard was known for saying to Josephine, “I’m going to check on a job” (he was a housepainter) or, “I’m going out for cigarettes,” and he’d be gone six months. My grandmother’s memories of her childhood were of Josephine taking in laundry and boarders and doing some nursing or midwifery to bring money into the household. And whenever Richard returned, Josephine always told my grandmother and her brother, “he is your father, he is to be treated with respect.”
    Josephine and Richard had a new address in Buffalo every year for 16 years after their marriage. I’m guessing that despite both their efforts, money was short… maybe they had to outrun a few landlords? For part of 1919, the family lived in Los Angeles, but by the next year they were back in Buffalo. Later, Josephine visited Los Angeles a couple of times, where Richard had settled in the mid-1920s, apparently working in the movie industry. He died there in 1935.
    From about 1925 until she died in 1936, Josephine lived with my grandparents. She seems to have chosen her daughter over her husband. A divorce of sorts? My mother was only five when Josephine died at home at the age of 75. Mom didn’t provide any memories of Josephine, but she did remember Richard’s Stetson hat.

    I wish I had more than this patchy information from which to draw sense of my great-grandmother. But even with these few puzzle pieces, I see strength in her character, including an independent spirit, and she certainly gave protection to her children. I’m calling these her “sapphire qualities.”

    Something to ponder: Do you think character traits can be inherited?

  • Welcome 2020!

    ByLee Ann

    The strength within that allows you to bend with circumstance is the same strength that keeps you from breaking.

    Jozsef Gerencser, 1867-1919 (my great-grandfather)

    Happy New Year! May 2020 bring you joy and strength within!

  • A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS GIFT

    ByLee Ann

    I don’t think that Christmas mornings have ever been more magical than the ones created by my grandparents, Stephen and Mary Granger. They started a tradition for my mother and her brother, Bob, that few parents would ever take on.  Here’s the Granger Christmas Story as my Uncle Bob told it to the Knights of Columbus General Meeting in December 2015.

    “Do you have a special Christmas that you remember? Mine happened over 70 years ago, but it is one that I will never forget.

    Stephen Granger, circa 1905, Buffalo New York

    My father, Stephen Granger, had arrived in the USA from Hungary in 1905 at the age of eight. He spoke no English and his family was very poor. His father worked in a factory in Buffalo as a labourer, supporting a family that also included my Uncle Joseph and my Aunt Julia, a child with special needs. Keeping food on the table and paying the rent left very little to buy Christmas gifts. My father told me that as a child, in a “good” year, he would receive an orange and a nickel for Christmas. Most years there wasn’t enough money, so he would receive either an orange or a nickel… and sometimes nothing.

    My parents therefore made Christmas for my sister Mary-Jane and me something very special. When we went to bed Christmas Eve, there was no tree, no gifts, and no decorations. Nothing except the stockings we’d hung on the fireplace, hoping that Santa would be good to us.

    Early Christmas mornings, my sister and I would tumble out of our beds and race past our stockings, now brimming with chocolates, oranges and small gifts, towards what was then called the “sun room” – a bright room with windows across the entire long wall that fronted the house. Magical, multi-coloured lights glowed and here we would find an abundance of wrapped gifts under a beautifully decorated and real Christmas tree.

    Our mother and father had stayed up all night, making another Christmas magical for us!

    Lionel 2020 Engine and coal car

    This particular Christmas, however, was mesmerizing! Circling the tree was a Lionel Train, pulled by Lionel’s top model 2020 Engine, puffing smoke as it went around the double-tracked layout. There was a coal tender and a box car – from which tiny boxes could be unloaded at the push of a button. A lumber car tipped small wooded logs into a bin at the side of the track, and there was a tanker car and a red caboose! Plus, a crossing guard would exit a little shack and swing a lighted red lantern, each time the train passed by and with another press of a button, the engine’s whistle would sound.

    Lionel Train crossing guard

    Over the years, the same routine would take place, and in addition to other gifts we received, my dad would add another train item to the collection. These included an operating cattle car from which cows would exit and enter to and from a loading platform, an automatic crossing gate that went up and down as the train approached and departed.

    Lionel operating cattle car and automatic moving cow

    I don’t know who had more fun running the trains, my dad or me! I remember waiting impatiently as he would go over the complete operating procedure with me, explaining how each piece worked and how it was to be properly run. I think he was making up for the Christmases he missed as a boy. My dad built and painted a beautiful 4-foot by 12-foot table in the basement, which contained a train station, painted miniature people, trucks, autos, a gas station, stop signs, telephone poles, miniature trees and three interior lighted passenger cars which were stopped in front of the station. The train set and table remains in the family today, with my son Ron.

    As I grew older, I realized that these gifts and subsequent memories pale next to the real meaning of Christmas: love, joy and peace.

    A blessed and merry Christmas to all!”

    And to you, Uncle Bob. Thank you for this and all of your Granger stories!

    As we wrap up 2018, I want to thank everyone who follows this blog! May your holiday season be joyful, and filled with love and peace.