Ms. Rose: Born in Detroit, MI on July 1, 1919 to parents who were Polish immigrants, Rose (their first child) grew up in both; some of the most admired times and some of the most horrific times of this country’s history. Born just 7 months after the end of World War I, Rose spent her first years as a child who benefitting from the post-war boom period known as the “Roaring Twenties”. Her father, a highly-skilled finish carpenter, found plenty of work and was able to provide well for his growing family. She recalls the family spoke Polish in the house and English elsewhere. She said that the kids in school were very mean to her and made fun of her Polish accent (which she worked to rid herself of in her teens). By the time Rose was 9 years old, she had begun taking piano lessons and her father was able to provide the family with a beautiful upright piano in the parlor on which she practiced. Then, as the 1930’s quickly approached, the bottom seemed to literally fall out of everything for the family and the country as the Great Depession arrived. Her father had lost Roses’ mother during the childbirth of one of Rose’s siblings. He quickly remarried, in part, to have someone to care for his children. Her father could not find work and had to have their electricity turned off. When financial ruin threatened the home in which they lived, they were forced to move to a tiny upper-flat and place most of their things into storage including the piano. Her father found temporary work fixing roofs; a skill he seldom practiced until then. A terrible fall from a tall roof ended her father’s carpentry career and the family was forced to visit soup kitchens for food. With no electric light in the house, Rose was forced to study by kerosene lamp, which she did gladly. Rose remembers cleaning the lamp chimneys every day after school as a chore. When her father could no longer make the storage payments, the family lost everything they had placed there, including that beautiful piano. When belts tighten further, her father informed Rose that she was no longer allowed to study at night because the kerosene cost too much. Her grades plummeted as she could not study before or after school in the daylight due to chores, which her father considered more important. Rose never finished school beyond the 11th grade. Rose recalls being sent to stand alone, down in the coal bin when she had misbehaved. She also remembers capping the beer bottles for her dad down in the cellar during prohibition, whever he made his home brew that he liked to share with is buddies, when they'd come over to play poker at their house on occasion.
Despite all odds, nothing kept Rose from being successful when she went out on her own and she held down many good jobs, some of which were specialized and required advanced skills. My parents met after World War II in a small Hungarian restaurant in South Detroit in the late 1940s. They discovered they were both born in the same year. They married in 1949. I was their first child, born less than two years later. We moved to a home in the suburbs and my father worked as a tool maker for the auto industry. We weren’t rich but we did okay. They’d been married 29 years when dad passed away. Rose loved her husband and missed him so much that, despite having a good job at a bank for several years, she did not do well on her own after his passing. Verna and I had found our own home in the same town and checked in on her very often. We could see that she wasn’t eating regular meals and we began to worry about her. Rose has always been a shorter woman and has kept herself in shape to this day. So when she wasn’t eating, she was all skin-and-bones. Verna came up with the idea of asking her to move in with us. So we approached her on it and she agreed to try it for 6 weeks. That was 29 years ago and Ms. Rose is still with us at home and doing great.
Ms. Rose is the proud grandma of 2 grandkids and 2 great-grandkids. She smoked for 45 years (quit cold-turkey in 1980), still likes to have a little wine every day or two and enjoys a “stiff drink” (bourbon & 7up) every once in a great while and always watches what she eats. That is except for the goodies she likes to nibble on occasionally (just loves ice cream). Did I mention that she still drives, and quite well I might add? We are so blessed to have her with us and healthy. We are so proud of her and thrilled that she’s made it to 90 years old. We wish mom all of our best and hope we are able to celebrate her 100th and beyond. Happy Birthday Ms. Rose! -Love, your son, Glenn
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