April 2, 2000

Mom

Today is your birthday, and I wanted to write something about you to tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to your family.

Eight-thirty in the morning will always be special. That is the time I normally call Mom. For many years I would ask her about my grandmother (Ama, who passed away at 103), then Dad. Since July 4, her health has been the focus of my call. Even with the cancer reoccurring, Mom is optimistic, vowing to fight and win. She is the source of strength for us all.

I remember a bright, sunny day when I was about three. We had been traveling across the country from Colorado Springs and were in a hotel in St. Louis. I was sitting on the window ledge, probably seven or eight stories above the park, enjoying the breeze and the view, my legs dangling outside. All of a sudden I was snatched back through the open window. Mom had rescued me, and I did not even know I had needed rescuing. She was certain I was about to jump or would slip, and well through my teenage years would ask the front desk at any hotel in which we stayed that the screens on the windows of our room be locked.

Mom is always there for our family; and family is the most important part of her life. She was born on April 2, 1914, in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and was the only child of Ethel Harris Miller (Ama) and Harry Miller (Poppy). She married Dad (Dr. Harold Schwartz) on December 20, 1936; and they enjoyed over 62 1⁄2 years of a story book marriage. My sisters Patti and Ellen and I enjoyed a warm and caring family. Dad was an obstetrician and because of his profession was often away at night delivering babies. Mom was always there, and we knew that her love was also from him. Mom is particularly proud of her grandchildren-Skip (Harold, III), Jeffrey, Brian, Karen and Susan. Mom never introduces our spouses as "in-laws"; she always speaks of Marc and Elwynn as son and daughter.

Mom started life off on the right foot---she won the beautiful baby contest when she was an infant. She was educated in the public schools of Chattanooga and was particularly proud of her education at Chattanooga High School where she was the editor of the school newspaper as a junior and the yearbook as a senior. She spent summers at camp, attending Camp Truda in Maine for a number of years and even today she is close to several camp friends. (It was here that she was given the nickname "Chatt"-I thought it was because she liked to talk, but she assured me it was from our city.) She graduated from Goucher College where she majored in English (and still checks my documents for grammatical errors) and then from Simmons when she received a degree in merchandising.

After marrying Dad, they lived in Europe for about a year in Dublin and in Budapest where Dad did his internship. They then moved to New York City when Dad was a resident at Bellevue. When World War II began, Dad was stationed at Ft. De Moines, Iowa. I was born in Iowa. We moved to Colorado Springs in 1943, and Dad went overseas. They wrote every day for three years. Mom kept all of Dad's letters which were full of news and love. She had them typed and had hoped to have had them published, but was told that they were too personal. During the war we spent some time in Washington, D.C., where Poppy was stationed and finally came home to Chattanooga in 1946.

If there were one word to describe Mom, it would be "gracious." She is a graduate of the "old school"-place cards at any dinner party (boy-girl, boy-girl) and thank you note for thank you notes. She was named as one of Chattanooga's best-dressed women. Mom took after Ama of whom someone once said, "When Ethel Miller walks into a room, the Queen of England looks like a harlot." She is the first to send a note of congratulations or a card of encouragement and often was one of the first to host a new member of the medical or Jewish community to a dinner at home.

Mom has a quiet courage, not afraid to try the unknown or to face new challenges. When she was first married, she asked Dad how she would know when water boiled; later she became an accomplished cook. When I was an infant, she was told by a child opthamologist that I was both blind and an idiot. She never let me view my vision as a handicap; and when I graduated from Yale, sent the doctor an announcement (he did not send me a gift). My sister Patti is mentally challenged and is a resident at Annandale at Suwanee, near Atlanta. Mom and Dad have also sought the best for Patti (as well as for Ellen and me) and founded (and served as co-presidents of) the parents' council to have better communication between staff and family. Mom has battled cancer with a positive spirit. When Dad was ill with Parkinson's Disease, she was concerned that the cancer had returned (although she had been cancer free for over five years after her mastectomy); she did not tell any one because she was afraid that any treatment would interfere with her care of Dad. Even now, she still has a positive spirit.

Mom has been involved in the community both in her own right and as a help to Dad. (Poppy was an outstanding civic leader who devoted over twenty years of his life to bettering Chattanooga.) She was a president of the medical auxiliary and of our Temple Sisterhood. She was the first non-Catholic woman to serve on the board of Memorial Hospital. She served on the boards of Travelers Aid, Opera, and Jewish Federation as well as Memorial Auditorium. She served as a member of the Chancellor's Roundtable at UTC. She received a Women of Valor award from Y-Me for helping to increase awareness of breast cancer.

Mom is a devout Reform Jew. Growing up I remember that every Friday night we would have dinner at Ama and Poppy's apartment in the Ft. Wood and walk the block to Mizpah where we would always sit in the same seats (fourth row from the front on the far side). Mom had long noticed that the windows of the sanctuary needed improvement, and was instrumental in having stained glass windows designed and installed. These windows reflect important dates in the Jewish year and have greatly enhanced the beauty of our services.

One of the most famous television commercials was made for AT&T. It featured legendary Alabama football coach, Paul "Bear" Bryant. Coach Bryant pointed his finger at a player and barked a command from the script: "You be sure to call your Mama today." He then added his own reflection that made the advertisement a classic: "I sure wish I could call mine." Mom often reminds us that one of the most important things we have in life is good memories. Eight-thirty in the morning will always be special.

Happy Birthday,

Love,

Hal