Beatrice Morrow - Online Memorial Website
Memorial Website - Beatrice Morrow
Beatrice Morrow
Born in United States
72 years
275380
Thank you everyone, family and friends for a wonderful Birthday Party and BENCH DEDICATION in memory of Bea. Bea showed herself through the Otters playing, the Hawks flying and the Whales spouting. The Memorial Bench is on Fiscallini Ranch Preserve and worth sitting and visiting anytime.
This memorial website was created to remember our dearest Beatrice Morrow who was born in Detroit, Michigan on August 5, 1934 and passed away on April 18, 2007. You will live forever in our memories and hearts.
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there... I do not sleep. I am the thousand winds that blow... I am the diamond glints on snow... I am the sunlight on ripened grain... I am the gentle autumn rain. When you waken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of gentle birds in circling flight... I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry— I am not there... I did not die...
In lieu of flowers Bea would appreciate donations in her memory to the following orgranizations.
Pewter Plough Playhouse, PO Box 494, Cambria, California 93428
Santa Lucia Chapter Sierra Club, PO Box 15755, San Luis Obispo, California 93406
Museum of Natural History, Cent. Coast Nat. Hist. Assn., 20 State Park Road, Morro Bay, California. 93442
Slideshow
Latest Memories
| Bubbas Mintzes #9 (final) |
This is the final message that was sent by Bea to her beloved grandchildren. I hope they all remember..... "Nothing the heart gives away is gone, it is kept in the hearts of others" anonymous.. Mom you are forever in our hearts and forevered remember... I love you too..Kitty
Mon 1/15/2007 8:18 PM
Hi guys
It's been a long time since I wrote one of these. Where has the year gone? I always think about writing one and then I guess I thought I did, so I don't. Well here is another one.
Observation: The books you read, the movies you read, the paintings you see, the music you listen to, all change as you get older. At each age, works of art take on different meanings because you have had different experiences. I can see a movie now that I saw as a kid and it is like seeing a whole new movie. I can listen to a song and it is as though I never really listened to the words before.
History: The teen-age years, as we call them now, were naturally very difficult for me. The term teen-ager was not even invented yet. I remember people always talking about "what was the matter with Bea". We had moved to a triplex on Pasadena Avenue in Detroit. It was a larger house, but still only one bathroom.
We did not have school buses, but took the city bus to Junior High School. Since school was always easy for me, I always got good marks and liked it. Unfortunately, my parents tried their best to keep me a child so I was constantly being fined (no allowance) for wearing lipstick, not wearing leggings in the cold, shaving my legs, wearing nail polish, and worst of all, buying a bra. I always had boyfriends and seemed to get mixed messages from my parents on how I should react to them. I was never taught anything about sex either in school or at home. It was sort of acquired by word of mouth. Actually, we were all pretty innocent for the most part. I was one mixed up kid.
I somehow got thrown out of the group of girls I hung around with. Many years later I was told it was because they were jealous of me as I could do things easier. However, at the time, I didn't know why and it was a big jolt to suddenly be excluded from your group. I found another "best friend", but my mother certainly didn't like her or any of the other friends I was coming up with. I suspect she did not approve of their families as they were different from ours. One was French Canadian, etc. etc. Yes, there was a lot of prejudice in our families then.
In those years I taught piano and baby sat for extra money and worked at my Aunt's toy store on holidays and in the summer. We went to Sunday school and went to the synagogue on the Jewish Holidays. My father worked about 10 hours a day and my mother was a substitute teacher. My father always complained that it was because of her that he had to pay higher taxes. I sometimes helped my father with book keeping (but not often), did the dishes every night and occasionally helped clean. I learned to make some of my own cloths in school and of course was heart broken if I didn't get a sweater like the other girls had. I was very independent and don't ever remember calling my parents if I was in a bad situation and needed help.
My grandmother lived with us and did all the cooking. Although there was never much communication in our home, I always felt she cared for us. Looking back on it now, she must have lived a very lonely life and I always picture her as old even though she was only 72 when she died. From the only picture I have of her, she does look very, very old. She was considered legally blind. but I remember she would sit with a magnifying glass and read the "Forwitz", a Jewish newspaper. She could read Jewish.
Our house was always full of people. We were always feeding people. There were meetings and social things all the time. My mother was very social. My father could fall asleep on the sofa with a houseful of people. My father bought a "summer farm" on Lake Huron where we could spend our summers. We always had visiting relatives taking their summer vacations there.
I belonged to B'nai Brith Girls, joined a theater group at the Jewish Community Center, played piano, took modern dancing, had a duo-dance team with my cousin and spent many, many hours in the library. I started going "steady" with my first serious boyfriend at 14 and went with him for a year and half. Unfortunately, he had quit school and was working. My parents tried to break us up, but we resisted, naturally. Eventually he broke up our relationship. I cried for months.
I decided to go to a special high school in Detroit where you picked a major. You had to take an entrance exam to get in and depending on the major, have a folio or audition. I majored in music. I had to travel and hour by bus to get there, but it was a good education. Other high schools went for only a half day, but ours went a full day as we spent a half day on our major. I met people from all over the city, every race, every financial state. Then I met my first husband. We grew up fast in those days.
The Korean War had started, but it did not have much meaning for us. It was thought of about as much as the Iraq War is today. However, there was a draft still from the WWll and you could be called up if you had no children or were in the reserves.
To be continued
Love
Grandma
| Bubbas Mintzes #8 |
Mon 7/10/2006 6:03 PM
Hi Guys
Hope all is well. Still have to go to town to see the sun most days. If your too hot where you are, just come down here. Found new beaches on the newly acquired Hearst property. Very windy so I guess they are good for surfing.
Opinion: You do not have the power to change anyone. Only they have the power to change themselves. This is kind of an ego thing, Wanting to change someone. It is usually women who think they can change some guy. It goes something like this, "all he needs is a little love and he will become the best person in the world." We can try to motivate people, but change them? Nope.
Change comes from within. It comes from one's own desire to change. However, if a person is truly motivated, like an alcoholic who joins AA, they can re-invent themselves. it is important to understand that there is a difference between supporting someone emotionally who wants to change or move ahead and enabling someone to stay stuck in a bad place. When you are parents, it is important to understand that there is a difference between such things as "mother love" and "smother love". The only one who should give us "unconditional love" is our dog. If destructive behavior is blamed on someone else's responses or excused by our loved ones, we end up weak. Yes, life is hard and responsibility for ourselves is the "pits". But, without taking that responsibility we end up in a "Catch 22" feeling worse about ourselves every time we "screw up" which leads us to more destructive behavior. Of course, all of my children and grandchildren are strong and responsible. And I love you.
History: When I went to school, kids could play outside until dark without anybody wondering if they were kidnapped or whatever. Never worried about internet abductions, getting kids to various practices, or what they were seeing at the movies etc. etc. In other words, raising kids was much easier. We had the privilege of staying innocent for quite a while. Life was much more free.
I loved school. Perhaps because I was successful in school. It was never boring. Even in elementary school we went to different classes with different teachers for half the day and had art, music, science, social studies, literature and physical education. We walked home for lunch most of the time.
When I was in kindergarten, it was discovered I could pick out tunes on the piano. So, I was given piano lessons. By 6 years old, I was traveling on the bus alone to my piano lessons. What was really neat, was that the Detroit Institute of Music was around the corner from the main library and art museum. I spent many wonderful hours hanging around both places. The museum had an Egyptian Room with real mummies in it. That was kind of scary. Now that I look back on it, I realize nobody every was worried about my getting home. One time, I took the wrong bus and had to get off miles from my house. It never occurred to me to call anyone for help. I just walked home. I guess it was expected that I should solve my own problems.
I was a fat little girl, but a tomboy. Usually played baseball in the empty lot with the boys instead of with dolls. I don't remember ever having a special doll. I once had a black doll. I think someone gave it to me. We were visiting someone in Windsor who had a little girl who wanted that doll. My mother made me give it to her. I suspect she was uncomfortable with me having a black doll. By the way. They were called "pickinini dolls" then. Can you imagine? In the winter we would build snow forts and have snowball fights, go ice skating, build snowmen and ride sleds. In the summer we would go swimming, play games like roof ball, hide and seek, war, kick the can, etc. etc. I was never inside, except to practice piano. Nobody ever told me to practice. I just liked it.
My piano teacher was Miss Ross. She was an "old maid". All her student's pictures were kept on display in her lesson room. Twice a year we had recitals. The better you got, the further into the program you were put. My best friend, Rosalie Mandel, also took piano lessons from Miss Ross. I think we were a little competitive. I really liked Miss Ross, although I knew nothing about her. My mother liked to show me off to her friends. If there was a meeting or dinner at our house, I always had to play the piano. My Aunt Rose, her sister, had a lovely voice. I used to accompany her on the piano. In later years, I realized that my mother saw my piano playing as an extension of herself and this was really the only thing I did that made her at all happy with me.
When the kids on the block wanted to play, they would stand outside my door and yell "Beets". We all played together no matter what age. Many years later, someone said to me, I remember you as always dragging your sister behind you. I don't remember it that way. She was just there, like all the other kids. However, she was a terrible "tattle taler". I never got away with anything. She always ran to my mother with whatever I was doing wrong. I used to take after her when she teased me and chase her around the dining room table. Then, of course, I was punished for picking on my little sister.
We both shared a bedroom. There was usually someone else living with us, a grandmother, an aunt, etc. Lots of people and only one bathroom. You would think that with both of us living in such close quarters we would have become close. it was just the opposite. Perhaps because we were so different.
We used to ride out to my dad's sister's house, almost weekly, to see my grandmother before my grandmother came to live with us. They lived on the East side of Detroit in a "single" family house. Their name was Garfinkle. We passed two cemeteries on the way. That was really spooky for me. I always hated that. They did not live in a "Jewish" neighborhood which caused some comment. Her husband owned a framing and book store in Gross Point (the wealthiest section of Detroit). They were both intellectuals. My aunt was a secretary at Wayne University and they had two children. Joan, was 5 days older than me and Martin was older than us. Later on, he became an artist. When we were children, Joan and I were very close. We both went a little nuts and married too young. Have lost track of that side of the family. My aunt had red hair and once said that if Joan and I had been born to each other's family, we would not have been a problem. Maybe so. My aunt was the first one anybody knew of to get a divorce. Her husband got another woman pregnant. The other woman had a son who later committed suicide. Of course, none of this was ever talked about. There was very little communication in those days. Women did not even tell anyone they were pregnant when they were married. I found out all about my aunt from my cousin. After her divorce, my grandmother came to live with us.
To be continued.
Love
Grandma
| Bubbas Mintzes #7 |
Sun 6/4/2006 12:32 PM
Hi Guys
The sun is shining and it is warm today. Maybe the cold and wet has passed. The warm weather is late this year. The wild flowers are still out on the coast, but not inland.
Observation: Change is the only absolute. Everything is in a constant mode of change not only in the universe, but in our emotional lives as well. Sooooo, can you count on anything being the same always? Nope. Wait a minute, it will change, is the rule. This can be good if you are going through a rough period as things will certainly change ( hopefully not to a rougher period). Of course it is hard to remember that the rough period will change while you are going through it. And, if you are having a good period in life, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, love, love, love every minute. It is spring. Smell the flowers. Look at the colors. Listen to the birds.
History: World War II may sound like ancient history to you, but it had enormous impact on my generation's life. I can remember the announcement of the bombing of Pearl Harbor on the radio by President Franklin Roosevelt. My father was sitting on the sofa and everyone was very shocked. I was in elementary school. I had been reading the funny page from the newspaper (as usual) on my hands and knees on the floor. From then on, life changed dramatically. We had the draft, rationing of much of our goods (meat, butter, gasoline, nylon stockings etc.etc.), war stamps and bonds, air raid practice, re-cycling of newspapers, tin cans and tin foil (from the inside of cigarette packs), and rubber bands. We had war movies and music. Since I was a tomboy, I played "War" with the boys. Never was much of a one for dolls. .
In school we made fake ration books to learn how to use them. Bought war stamps which eventually turned into war bonds we acquired enough stamps. Learned patriotic songs. Learned how to work together for the great effort. I performed for the local USO (where troops were entertained) by playing the piano for singers and tap dancing. I had been taking piano lessons since I was 6 (going myself on the city bus to them). Occasionally we had soldiers come over to the house for a home cooked meal. We occasionally went to Canada to get cloths and liquor which we couldn't get in the U.S. Yes, we snuck them into the U.S. Detroit was on the border of Canada. There was both a tunnel and a bridge to Windsor. My father's mother, who lived with us, was constantly knitting sweaters for the soldiers. She was legally blind.
We could not buy new cars, appliances, and many of the things we now consider necessities. My father was too old for the service. He wanted to go into the Merchant Marines, but he was too old for that also. He became an air raid warden. Of course, the cabs kept running because that was one of the only forms of private transportation for servicemen as well as the general public. All natural materials went into the war effort, to make weapons and ammunition, uniforms, helmets, etc.etc. And it was all done very, very quickly. Yes, things can change very quickly in this society given the right leadership and public awareness. There was a lot of publicity about what horrible monsters the Japanese were. Unfortunately, for our history, the Japanese were put in camps even if their sons were serving in the service and black soldiers could not fight in the same units as white soldiers. Seems weird today, but that is how it was. When the laws were changed by the service, it was a first step towards de-segregation. Don't know if things would have ever changed if not for the war.
Being Jewish, we learned way ahead of most of the rest of the public about the holocaust. It is hard to fathom now that it took 7,000,000 killed in German Nazi camps to bring it to our realization. But then, look what is happening to Africa and we are not really doing much of anything to stop that. At the end of the war in the European sector, our house was a center for collecting cloths and food to send overseas to immigrant camps. My mother and friends were constantly sending out packages. These people had been in concentration camps and now they were held in camps until they could find countries to take them in. They had to sneak into Israel (it was not a Jewish State yet) and nobody else was taking large numbers of Jewish survivors. I cannot fathom how these people managed to survive. I am not so sure I could do it if put in their position.
I could go on and on about those years, like how we sent cigarettes overseas to our soldiers as a patriotic duty (cigarette companies covered up health concerns of cigarettes then too). The bad things and the good things (like penicillin) which came out because of the war would make a large volume. If you have special questions, just write me. I think this is enough for one reading.
Love
Grandma
| Bubbas Mintzes #6 |
Mon 5/1/2006 7:32 PM
Observation: Going to another geographical place is the only way to really know it. That is, if you stay away from the "group" and really talk to people from whatever place it is you are visiting. You can read about cities, states, countries, etc. in books, but the actual "gestalt (a psychological term, look it up) will not be yours until you are there. One of you guys (who shall remain nameless) was with us at Disneyland one time when they were showing the U.S. on the circle screen they had. I said that your grandpa and I had been to every place pictured and hoped you could get to all those places too. The response was "I don't need to, I already saw it in the movie". Nope, it is not the same thing. I am afraid that young people are retreating more and more into the unreal world of movies, TV, Internet, cell phones and IPod and not experiencing reality. In other words, the unreal is becoming your reality. After all, reality for all of us is only the sum of our experiences. An interesting speech on this was given in the English Parliament recently.
I am always surprised at what I find in other places, especially in foreign countries. I never knew how Catholic Bavaria and Spain were until I got there. I never knew that the people of Bali actually lived every day colored by their type of Hindu religion etc.etc. The world is a fascinating place and the people are equally fascinating. Spend your money on travel and experiences instead of things. It will stay with you until you are senile, while things can disappear overnight.
History: Well we have finally come to the place where I am born. It was during the depression, but my parents had an apartment by then. I think it was on Pingree St, near 12th St in Detroit, Michigan. I was born at Harper Hospital in Detroit. One story about me as a baby is that my mother left me in a buggy on the porch and my father was suppose to be watching me. It began to snow, my father had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room. My mother came home and found me still in the buggy, covered with snow. Of course, I survived. I can't remember hardly anything about my babyhood.
My sister was born when I was 2 1/2. I remember her coming home from the hospital in my mother's arms. I was excited and when they carried her by me, I thought she smiled at me. I said, "She is smiling at me". My mother said, "Don't be silly, she just has gas". From then on I was jealous because she was the pretty one. Everyone used to exclaim over her beautiful long curly hair. I had straight hair cut in what was called a Dutch boy cut. It looked like someone put a bowl over your head and cut around the edges. Also, my ears stuck out. People in the family used to exclaim how sad it was that I had those ears. As you can see, raising children was not done with much sensitivity in those days.
Later in life I had plastic surgery to plaster my ears back. I was in my thirties by then. It was a great psychological lift having plastic surgery.
After the surgery, when my ears still weren't quite heeled, I sneezed. Jack put his hand over his mouth and gasped. I said "What is wrong"? He said, "Your ears" and gave a motion that they had sprung back out. Funny man. I could have killed him.
I remember a birthday party when I was 5, but not many birthday parties after that. We had moved to a duplex by then that my parents had bought. Life was much more serious. People had survived the depression and were not about to spend any money on frivolous things. We had a retired cab for a car (only one car per family), one bathroom, a coal furnace that needed coal shoveled in it every morning, a wringer washer, an icebox (no refrigerator yet), a radio, and a piano. My sister and I shared a bedroom. We were considered middle class.
| Bubbas Mintzes #5 |
Monday, April 10, 2006 9:03 AM
Hi Guys
In case you are wondering, the loose translation of Bubba Mintzes is Grandmother's Stories. It comes from Yiddish which is kind of a slang from the German and Slavic languages. The sounds are a little different than the German, but if you are in Germany and know Yiddish you can pick up some of the words spoken to you. Yiddish is a colorful, but dying language. Neither I, nor my siblings learned it. I don't think any of my cousins learned it either (outside of a few expressions).
Obervation: The effects of betrayal can have lasting emotional trauma especially if it happens over and over. Then you start asking "Why do I invite this behavior from others". In close relationships, such as long friendships, marriage, and family, trust is put in you as well as your trusting others. Loyalty becomes no just a word.
Sometimes, our own emotional needs are compelling and we are tempted to betray those whom we have these relationships with. If we give in to these needs, and the betrayal is discovered by the other party, it is usually the end of the relationship. I am not just talking about sexual betrayal, I am talking about attitudes and other actions as well.You better ask yourself if you are willing to lose that relationship permanently. This might bring you to your senses.
Also, it takes a lot of gumption if you have been betrayed in early childhood as well as adulthood to trust again. However, the alternative is a pretty empty life. I had an aunt whoes husband had an affair with another woman and had a child by that woman. She divorced him and never would have another relationship with a man. She lived an empty life. Her children grew up and left and unfortunately, most of the family condemned her for getting the divorce and did not see her often. At that time divorce was unheard of. She led a very empty and unhappy existence. I learned from her experience. Be careful of those you love and if you are betrayed, don't let it color all your relationships.
History: My mother had four sisters, Rose, Ray, Ida and Margie. My mother's name was Dorothy. I don't know what my grandmother or grandfather's name was on that side. The family name was Friedles.
My father had two brothers and one sister, Joe, Charles and Dorothy. My grandmother's name was Amelia or "Molka" in Hebrew or Yiddish. The family name was Brindze. I don't know what my grandfather's name was on that side.
Of course the names were spelled by illiteration from the original Russian, so I don't know how it would look in the Russian alphabet.
My mother (Dorothy) and father (Jim Brindze) met in Cleveland, Ohio where my mother lived. My father lived in Detroit, Michigan. He originally dated Ray (her sister). My mother met him and decided that was who she wanted to marry. She asked Ray if she was serious about him. Since Ray said she wasn't, my mother went after him (by her own admission). As you can see, my mother was pretty aggresive and not shy.
They were married in Cleveland and left for Detroit in a friend's car. It was very bad weather, in winter. The car skidded and they had an accident and spent their honeymoon in the hospital.
They must have dated in Detroit during their courtship as it was told that my father had a canoe with many pillows and a gramaphone (a wind up machine that played records, those flat black disks). He kept the canoe at Belle Island, a park in the Detroit River in Detroit. Evidently, they used to go canoeing and then tip the canoe over on it's side and sleep under it. They also played tennis. My mother was very thin, tiny and athletic then. She evidently gave all that up after she was married. I remember her as being heavy.
This was during the depression years. My mother and father lived with his parents as did all of the boys and their wives. Everyone lived in one house during the depression years as there was not enough money for everyone to get seperate residences. My mother never got over this period and was pretty bitter about the whole arrangement.
My father owned three taxi cabs at the time, but could not afford to run them, so they pretty much sat unused during the depression. He worked at a gas station for $10 a week. My mother worked at odd jobs because she could not get a teaching job. She had become a teacher at Yipsilanti Normal School on a two year program before they were married. Eventually, they rented an apartment.
If you guys ever have any questions, please email me. I guess I don['t write everything and might leave out some stuff. Same for observations.
Love ya all
Grandma
PS My name is Beatrice (Bea for short). My hebrew name is Basha, which means beautiful. When I read Dante's Infernal, I found out that Beatrice was the most perfect woman that there ever was. However, I don't think my mother even knew about Dante, so I don't have to live up to that ideal. We will just leave it at "beautiful".
Latest Condolences
| Hendrick Polanco | My deepest condolences | April 19, 2018 |
My deepest condolences. May these few words from the Holy Scriptures bring you comfort in your time of grief...
John 11:32-45
32 And so Mary, when she arrived where Jesus was and caught sight of him, fell at his feet, saying to him: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 Jesus, therefore, when he saw her weeping and the Jews that came with her weeping, groaned in the spirit and became troubled; 34 and he said: “Where have YOU laid him?” They said to him: “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus gave way to tears. 36 Therefore the Jews began to say: “See, what affection he used to have for him!” 37 But some of them said: “Was not this [man] that opened the eyes of the blind man able to prevent this one from dying?”
38 Hence Jesus, after groaning again within himself, came to the memorial tomb. It was, in fact, a cave, and a stone was lying against it.39 Jesus said: “TAKE the stone away.” Martha, the sister of the deceased, said to him: “Lord, by now he must smell, for it is four days.”40 Jesus said to her: “Did I not tell you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?” 41 Therefore they took the stone away. Now Jesus raised his eyes heavenward and said: “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 True, I knew that you always hear me; but on account of the crowd standing around I spoke, in order that they might believe that you sent me forth.” 43 And when he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice: “Laz´a·rus, come on out!” 44The [man] that had been dead came out with his feet and hands bound with wrappings, and his countenance was bound about with a cloth. Jesus said to them: “Loose him and let him go.”
45 Therefore many of the Jews that had come to Mary and that beheld what he did put faith in him;
Please go to the following link for more information regarding the Hope expressed in this passage
http://www.jw.org/en/publications/books/dead-live-again-tract/dead-live-again
| Gerry Docherty | You're in my thoughts | August 5, 2009 |
BEA!!
I just happened to see your beautiful site and noticed today is Bea's family. Then I noticed her date of death and saw it was just 11 days after my Joe passed away of pancreatic cancer. I'm sure they are all together with our Lord making sure we make it through another day. We need to remember that memories live forever. Our loved ones will live eternally in our hearts, never to be forgotten. God bless you all.
| Passerby | Happy Birthday | August 2, 2009 |
| Diane | Claire Sullivan | August 24, 2008 |
Kitty
Thank you so much for your kind words - & the poem. I saw the pictures from your bench dedication - I'm sure your mom visits it often. What a great gesture!! I just returned from TN - my father has just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer - spread to his other organs. I never grew up with him - but he has been in & out of my life - he was there for my mom last year - so I hope she is there for him now. He told me how much he misses her - talking on the phone & when he would visit NJ he would take her out for pizza. Can't imagine him gone - but have to accept it.
My nephew plays baseball - his team made the state & regional championships - my mother was - is - his biggest fan! I know she was an angel in the outfield!! I know she is so proud!!!!!
I have read some of your mom's stories & find them so interesting! She sounds like a real class lady - I hope she's sharing some with my mom!!
Thanks for listening & take care
Diane
| Diane | Claire Sullivan's daughter | August 4, 2008 |
To Bea's Family
I was passing by & came accross this site & it broke my heart! My mom Claire passed away April 16th, 2007 from lung cancer. they had her on the morphine drip & before she was completly out of it the last words we heard also were "I love you too" - we never got to see mom again or hear her voice!! We miss her so much - so I know how much you are missing Bea!! I have a site for mom here also - clairesullivan.lastlast-memories if you would like to visit!! I will light a candle in Bea's memory! God bless you & your family - & like it was said I wish you peace from watching someone you love sucumb to this disease - it's not easy!!
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