R.I.P. Rosemary

Mothers-in-law are famous fodder for Borscht Belt jokes, but I had exceedingly good luck with both of mine. Ironically I lost my second one first, just when I was getting to know her, but after six years of knowing her, I already considered her a great friend. The first one, to whom I was connected from 1987 to 2002 (but afterwards too, due to a mutual interest in the welfare of my sons), passed away yesterday at the age of 96.

Rosemary Monagan was the same age as my own mom, but the two women couldn’t have been more different. Rosemary was the daughter of the Mayor of Bayonne, New Jersey, the wife of a Connecticut Congressman, and at one time the President of of the Women’s National Democratic Club. Prior to moving to DC, she had been First Lady of Waterbury, Connecticut, when her husband was Mayor. She performed in vocal groups and musicals in her youth, loved Bach, and was a fan of and a friend to the Kings Singers (at least in their earlier incarnations). For many years, she volunteered on archeological digs for the Smithsonian in far flung places like the Levant. I’ve mentioned her indirectly on this blog a couple of times. It was she who got us into World Trade Center 6 to see the Crolius pottery fragments discovered at the African Burial Ground in Lower Manhattan (her husband was a descendant). And when I mentioned a trip to Mount Vernon just a few days ago, that was one of her excursions, the sort she frequently organized for her family.

Rosemary was a remarkable person, and not just on account of all these skills, attainments, and attributes. She was extraordinarily generous, unflappable, graceful, funny, and just all-around lovely. She was good to this correspondent when she had every excuse to close that door. But that’s the point of genuinely good people, isn’t it? It’s not in them to be otherwise. For just one instance, long after her daughter and I had split up, she let me stay with her in DC when I came down to attend a film festival that used to be held in Arlington. We spent quality time together over a period of two or three days, in the aftermath of a rent that normally divides people permanently. It took no great effort on my part, I assure you, for I had not ceased to look up to her. It’s HER kindness that was remarkable.

So I find myself not as uncomfortable as I might have otherwise been in paying her a little grateful tribute this morning. Just some cool things I happened to quickly gather to remember her by, and may add to.

An excellent tribute in theWaterbury Republican-American.

Here’s a quote from her on Woman’s Voices: An Oral History of DC Women on the subject of Congressional representation for the District

A couple of Women’s Democratic Club events she hosted on C-Span, including a tribute to Nancy Pelosi.

This photo is from a spread on freshman Congressional wives from Life Magazine (late ’50s, I think?):

A snap of her and Hillary (looks to be from when the latter was First Lady or thereabouts):

I’ve always cherished this letter from her, which she sent after I attended a massive IMF protest in New York (I’d actually attended more as a journalist than as a protestor, it’s back when I was occasionally contributing to national magazines). The last sentence always gets me — this was about 2 weeks before September 11.

A thoughtful Christmas gift she got me one year. A commemorative teleplay adaptation of Hamlet, published in a limited edition following a 1959 CBS Broadcast starring a cast from the Old Vic. I’ve now forgotten how she came by it, maybe she knew the writers (adaptors) or producers, or, for that matter Ben Shahn, who did the illustrations.

Both my sons were very close to this grandmother. I’m glad they got to know her so far into adulthood.