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Notes for MARY SIEGEL:
Eulogy, November 19, 1998
Mary Siegel's life was an adventure - one that grew out of her caring for and about people. That caring was not expressed in emotional ways - she used to say, "I'm not a kissing cousin" - but in a very Jewish way, she carried it into action, helping people one way or another throughout her life. She had a wonderful sense of humor, and people flocked to her, partly because she was able to laugh at herself and didn 't take herself too seriously.
She was born in 1911 on the South side of Chicago, in South Chicago, the third of five daughters of Aaron and Esther Mednich Siegel. Her oldest sister, Ann, had been born in Europe and carried as a baby here by her parents. Although Yiddish was spoken at home, the girls forgot it growing up, and Mary had to relearn it to relate to the immigrants she served.
For some reason, she was the only one of the girls to be sent to Cheder, and one story Nelle remembered was her having been kicked out of class by the teacher, a cousin of hers, and then coming back and yelling, "Merry Christmas" into the classroom. When the cousin complained to their father, he greeted it with the proper response - he laughed. Throughout her life, she was a caring, loyal Jew, although not a particularly observant one.
She graduated from Bowen High School, and after attending the University of Illinois, decided on a career of social work, and graduated from the University of Chicago's School of Social Administration.
She worked first for the Department of Public Welfare working with the elderly. When World War II began, she wanted to do her part and went into uniform - the uniform of the American Red Cross. She worked as a social worker in a hospital at the naval base in Bainbridge, Deleware. Her sister, Nelle, who also had gone into social work, followed her into that same uniform.
After the war, Mary saw the crying need of the immigrant survivors and went to work for the United Service for New Americans - later known as HIAS, Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. She became what was known as a "Port and Dock Receptionist," but she preferred to call herself a "longshoreman" - and wherever she went, she commanded the love and respect of that group - and they once gave a big party honoring her.
She would go in any weather, greet the new immigrant families - that's when she relearned Yiddish - and accompany them to the place ot their relocation, getting them started on their new life. She discovered that the Orthodox families would not debark from the ships if they docked on Shabbos - so she helped implement a plan for creating an Eruv - on official boundary that made the ship and the dosks one bounded location - so they could debark. She didn't only work in New York, but in several of the ports of debarkation - Galveston, Miami, and lived for several years in New Orleans. She ended up in New York, however, where she later worked for the Metropolitan Department of Welfare and headed one district's distribution of Medicaid. It also offered her the opportunity to reconnect with her sisters Nelle and Blanche - connections that had never been severed but again became close.
Wneh mandatory retirement ended her career with the welfare department, it was Blanche's close connection with the art world that launched her on a new career. Blanche heard that the Metropolitan Museum of Art was offering an exam to gather a new corps of volunteers in connection with the coup they had accomplished in mounting the King Tut exhibit - the Egyptian authorities had never before allowed the antiquities to leave Egypt. She took the exam - sure that she would not be chosen for one of the approximately 175 positions offered to the thousands who applied - but apparently her love of art, a family characteristic, and her social work background, combined to make her an outstanding candidate. She became a docent, specializing in groups of the elderly, and spent the rest of her life doing something that she loved, leading groups and going out to speak at slide lectures about the museum collections.
But Mary wasn't only her professional self - she was vital, as her niece Barbara put it "spunky," funny, wonderful daughter, sister, aunt, friend - she could never make up her mind among her many suitors, so she never became a wife. She was beloved of kids, especially her nieces and hephews and grandnieces and nehpews, and cherished by them. Most important in her life, however, were her sisters in New York, with both of whom, at different times, she lived - Blanche and Nelle. They were her support when she needed it, and especially these last two years, when she went into an assisted care residence. Nelle and Blanche, and her nephew, Dr. Gilbert Wise devoted themselves to Mary.
In that residence, she continued to be herself, and her room was the social center for the residents and the aides. Her family continued to be in touch by phone, and Barbara mentioned discussing politics with her on the phone two weeks ago. Apparently, the last words she uttered were "Clinton is going to make it."
Wherever she is now, she is probably helping new arrivals get adjusted - and showing them the special collections there.
May her memory be a blessing to those who know and loved her.
Rabbi Norman Lewison
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