Labor Ward, 1960s
No Men Allowed!
One more story and we’re there! We just left the restaurant where we gorged ourselves in honor of Baby’s imminent birth. That was one day before the official due date. It didn’t take long. Read the rest of this entry »
Griswold Hall at Harvard Law School in 2003
D and I were guests in the Griswolds’ house for about six months. Here are two favorite memories from our first months in the house, plus a few pregnancy photos. Baby is due near the end of August.
The Sisters Next Door
Before leaving for Washington, D.C., Mr. Griswold gave us contact information for two sisters who live next door. Shortly after we move in they invite us to lunch. They’ve heard I play the piano. Read the rest of this entry »
Anthony’s Pier 4 Restaurant, Boston Waterfront
(now closed)
Spring 1968. Mr. Griswold asks D and me to house-sit for him for up to one year. I tell Mr. Griswold I’m pregnant, thinking he might change his mind. He doesn’t. In fact, would D and I be able to move in by early June?
D and I talk it over. We also talk with friends from New Zealand. They plan to return to New Zealand with their baby right after Christmas. We’re at the top of the list for their spacious apartment near the university. Good news, since Mr. Griswold isn’t sure how long he’ll need to have us house-sitting.
Yes, D and I can move in by early June. Mr. Griswold invites us to supper so they can show us the house. Nothing fancy. No need to dress up. Yes, I’m nervous! Is this really happening?
I’ve met Harriet Ford Griswold before, but usually at official social events. She asks about Diane’s and Mom’s polio histories, and tells us her polio history. She’s a woman of great courage.
The house is set up so Mrs. HFG can be as independent as possible. A cook helps with dinner, and a cleaning woman comes every so often. The rest of the time Mrs. HFG is on her own. Even when Mr. G is present she doesn’t expect or want him to do what she can do. She goes into detail about how she gets along by herself most of the time. I wonder whether she’s lonely.
The house is in a residential area, sits on a hill overlooking Boston, and has a yard full of trees. Most impressive, it has a small enclosed elevator for Mrs. HFG. There’s an old piano I’m welcome to play, though hasn’t been tuned for years.
Beyond that, there’s a ground level back door entrance, and doors throughout most of the house are wide enough for a wheelchair. Mr. G keeps the thermostat well below 65° Fahrenheit at night. I think he expects us to conserve energy. Which we do.
The move is easy. We pack our clothes and kitchen, box the books, throw everything into the back of our VW squareback and drive off.
Back at the office
My co-workers know I’m pregnant, and that D and I are going to house-sit. I have my ‘interview’ with the future interim dean. He sees no reason to let me go, and tells me to stay on as long as I’m able. I’m relieved.
In May, Mr. Griswold takes our office staff out to lunch, with spouses or special friends. We drive to Anthony’s Pier 4 Seafood Restaurant, a favorite with everybody. We have one last lobster feast (pick your own lobster from the tank as you come in), and tell stories about working with Mr. Griswold.
It’s the end of an era. Mr. Griswold is retiring, and the university is going to build a modern law school building, just behind Langdell Hall. The law library will stay in Langdell Hall. The offices we’re in will become part of the new library, but not until I’m gone. I love Langdell Hall.
I continue working until two weeks before my due date in late August. No health problems. Just Boston heat and time out as needed to put up my legs, relax, drink water and make trips to the ladies’ room.
In early August, EW hosts a raucous farewell celebration and baby shower for me at her home. Her round dinner table is filled with friends from work, plus D and a few other spouses. Mr. Griswold is already busy in Washington, D.C.
A few days after the farewell party I receive a hand-written letter from Mr. Griswold. It’s on his new letterhead: The Solicitor General, Washington. Erwin N. Griswold.
I read it several times, stunned by what he says. I show it to D, then put it away. It’s a treasure I don’t know how to unpack just yet. I don’t look at it again for years.
I’m less than one week from delivering our first child.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 April 2015
Photo credit: http://www.webtravelguide.com
looking up
I see you writing
inky words
on yellowed paper
lost memories
shades of the woman
I was then
* * *
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 April 2015
Boston Lying-In Hospital for Women (center building),
part of Brigham and Women’s Hospital
It’s early Spring 1968. I’m back at work, and my lips are sealed. No talk about being pregnant. No need. Not yet.
But I do need affordable maternity care. The university refers me to a downtown clinic Read the rest of this entry »
It’s December 1967. I’ve worked for Mr. Griswold for just over two years. Right now I’m in the hospital on the university campus. Miserable and getting worse. Read the rest of this entry »
Things don’t always go smoothly at the office. Here’s an example of something that didn’t go smoothly for me. It may seem small and inconsequential. But most big things in my life started out small. Read the rest of this entry »
Oasis in Libya
I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this series! I thought it would be over and done with by now. But my mind keeps remembering things I want to tell you about.
Working for Mr. Griswold was an incredibly positive experience during the early years of our marriage. For me, it was a milestone.
I wasn’t yet 25 years old. In some ways, my experience with Mr. Griswold is similar to my experience with Mrs. Hanks, my piano teacher from age 9 through 16. Both knew and accepted me just as I was, yet didn’t leave me there.
As for Mr. Griswold, here’s a man I can trust! That’s so big I could just stop right here and cry my eyes out. They’re already tearing up.
It isn’t about his age or how he looks, or even who he is and what he does. It’s that he’s the exact opposite of my First Boss. I’ve gone from the worst boss I ever had to the best boss I ever had! What are the chances of that happening?
Back then I didn’t know he was my best boss ever. But now, decades later, looking back at the mostly male bosses I’ve worked for and with, Mr. Griswold stands at the top of the list.
Mr. Griswold helped me become the person I am. He wasn’t the only boss who did that. Still, when it comes to integrity, excellence, humanity and trustworthiness, he was the Best.
I didn’t know back then that I’d end up becoming an educator—a professor, and then a dean. I would have laughed in your face if you’d suggested this possibility. Crazy! Yet I clearly absorbed something that carried over a bit from those years of working in Mr. Griswold’s office.
Being on his team wasn’t always easy. The workload was constant. I didn’t sit around twiddling my thumbs, wondering what I might do next.
At the same time, I never felt I was doing it all by myself, without adequate support, or without genuine affirmation from Mr. Griswold. He and my coworkers knew what I was doing and the value of my work. Just as I knew what they were doing and the value of their work.
This was a huge gift. It grew me up as an employee. It’s the point at which I came of age. An adult. Responsible and mature, even though I didn’t always feel I was.
This job also gave me a point of reference. I didn’t read about this in a book. I experienced it for myself! It wasn’t just pie in the sky by and by. It was evidence that a workplace could be life-giving instead of death-dealing.
I’m not saying it was heaven every day. It wasn’t. Sometimes we were stressed out by unexpected circumstances or by unexpected personality issues. Yet I never felt a co-worker was after me, or anything less than happy to have me on the team.
The last point I want to comment on is this. I wasn’t simply a new employee; I was a new wife. Just married! And also, by the way, in a brand new to me location, culture, city, academic community, church, you name it. It was NEW. Heavenly and hellish. Both at the same time.
I’ll say more about early marriage in later posts. Right now I just want to say this: Working in the dean’s office of the Harvard Law School was like finding an unexpected oasis in the middle of a sometimes vast and lonely desert.
When I arrived at work in the morning, coworkers knew my name, what I did, and how to interact with me. It didn’t happen overnight; but it happened quickly.
I needed that oasis. That safe place ‘where everybody knows my name.’ Cheers!
To be continued. . . .
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 6 April 2015
Photo from Wikimedia.org
President Nathan M. Pusey and Dean Erwin N. Griswold
Harvard Law School Commencement, 1967
Who is Erwin N. Griswold? Click here for a summary of his life and service. Big things. Important things. For me, the little things made all the difference. Here are several small, telling memories. Read the rest of this entry »
Dear Diane,
Funny how things come together: Easter lilies, our first apartment, and Mr. Griswold.
Easter Sunday always reminds me of you. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 