Aunt Millie

Aunt Millie’s name recalls the structure, the formality, the seriousness, and the effort she gave to everyone she touched in her life.

Structure was a characteristic built into her fiber. This remarkable lady came from Germany to San Francisco in her late teens with little education and an indomitable will. She moved into the home of her infirm Aunt Lena to take charge of the household. Aunt Lena’s sons Abe, Max, and Adolf were the same age as Aunt Millie. At that time, they were learning the dried fruit business. It became the largest dried fruit company in the world. After Aunt Lena’s death, Abe married and Aunt Millie lived with Adolf and Max, who remained bachelors.

Precision was Aunt Millie’s style. She planned her menus, marketed daily, fixed her flowers, invited guests, originated party ideas, and had all the jobs squared away by noon. This, she insisted, gave her the freedom to indulge her personal needs. She learned English. She communed with nature on her daily walks. Fortunately, she had help to relieve her of her household drudgery- but she trained them to her ways. In her feminine way, she ruled like Hitler. Her broad toothy smile smoothed the pedantic methods she employed.

Her formality bespoke the era in which she lived. In the 30s, dinner was family time. It was served by a waitress in the style of the period. Hot plates were served on the left and removed on the right. Meat and vegetable were passed to each individual. Soup, salad, and dessert were separate courses. Aunt Millie learned it all and orchestrated it like a professional. She performed with joy and drama.

She was stern, severe, and dour in her seriousness. She was determined to know music, not only to enjoy it. She attended opera and symphony regularly. She was prepared with libretto and score, studied prior to every performance. Her pleasure derived from knowledge in everything she tackled.

She had the good fortune to travel extensively with her two cousins. The research she did before every trip could fill an encyclopedia. She made close friends of Gertrude Stein, Matisse, students of El Greco in Toledo and Gumps, the specialist in Oriental art. She shared her experiences with anyone interested when she returned from the Orient, Europe, Egypt, and Africa.

Her love of nature was boundless. Friends needing loving care received 70 varieties of wild flowers picked and arranged and identified for their enjoyment. She found these on Twin Peaks in San Francisco, with a breathtaking view, high above the bay. Muir Woods in Marin County was her home away from home. She hiked there regularly with the “Old Man of The Mountain” who close friends called Dad O’ Rourke. She knew every rock and rill. She attempted climbing the High Sierras. It was rugged for her, as she got on in years, but she persevered. She backpacked with the best climbers. Beauty was life-giving for Aunt Millie.

With growing affluence, she and her two cousins felt a need to share their success with the world. The Rosenberg Foundation was established to dispense largesse to the community in which they grew. Aunt Millie became the chairman of the Foundation. She appointed a board of outstanding people from Stanford University, California University, and the hierarchy of San Francisco. Essentially focus was on the poor, old, and indigent. The foundation continues to operate today, though Aunt Millie, the last survivor, died in 1941.

I had the rare privilege of being touched by “Tanse,” my personal name for Aunt Millie. During my life, most specifically my college years, I lived with her and Uncle Max. I became an integral part of the family. I was made responsible for the routine Tanse formerly had. I did it with rage, resentment, acceptance, and laughter. We developed a rare relationship. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning expressing feelings. I dared to say, “You may criticize my flower arrangements but don’t destroy them before you ask me to redo them. “ I even got the breath to rebel against attending the symphony every other Friday afternoon. Tanse said “Do it to keep me company, you won’t regret it. You don’t have to understand it. Think of it as a sun shower cooling you on a hot day.”

I was flattered when she invited me to join the Rosenberg Foundation Board as a Junior Member. When I expressed my opinion that too many grants went to institutions for the aged and not enough for the youth, I thought I would be relieved of my post. Of course, she censured me privately but I won my point: Within a year, an abandoned church was purchased in San Francisco’s ghetto. It was in the Hayes Valley District, south of Market Street, where crime was rampant. The church was transformed into a community center. I was appointed Assistant Director. The children planned activities. We provided space, equipment, and support. Crime decreased drastically shortly after we opened the doors.