I’ve gotten considerable reaction from my posts centering on my conversations with my 99 year old Aunt Doris, Dora to her nieces and nephews. . Those conversations came to an end yesterday as she passed away 1 month shy of her 100th birthday. Aunt Doris spent over 40 years as a back-office clerk for Gimbles. She never married. Like many of her era, she was the child who took care of her parents and saw them through the vicissitudes of old age. Having come to America from the ashes of World War I, she and her sisters embraced this country with the passion born of gratitude for the opportunity to live a life unimaginable to Jewish children born in a Polish shtetl. Doris’ earliest memories were of hiding from the Cossacks’ frequent pogroms.
Doris didn’t do much to catch the notice of the world. She had no children, never made much money, and left the world with little tangible evidence of her existence. Yet, when I ask myself how is it that I have now spent over 30 years as a union leader, listening to my aunt talk with pride about her union, listening to the profound respect she had for the man who organized her local, remembering stories of the big strike at Gimbles and Mr. Gimble’s resolve to work with the union to never let that happen again, Aunt Doris played no small part n the development of my union consciousness. For this, as well as all of the Dodger games we shared, and for her unqualified love, I’m deeply grateful. Thank you Aunt Dora, and farewell.