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Friday, May 2, 2008
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“Can I get a little help here?” I pleaded back in February 2007, as I posted on my blog a picture of our bathroom’s funky old wallpaper.

I wanted to know if anyone recognized the pattern of faux bookshelves stocked with libertine spines: “Sappho,” “The Marquis de Sade” and “Les Fleurs du Mal.”

A few days ago an e-mail arrived that began, “Regarding the bathroom wallpaper in your house …”

Kate Kapust of Newton Centre, Mass., said she remembered it very well: our house used to be her mother’s. Kate’s husband had been Googling Louis Loewenstein, the man her mother, June, had married later in life, and found my query.

“Your piece brought back so many memories of both of them … and of that crazy wonderful house, with its tilted dining room that had the button under the table to call the servants.”
I assured Kate our house still lists to port — some years ago what had been a gardener’s cottage built in 1871 started settling toward the creek. But we have no servants to call.

This began a warm exchange of remembrances. Her mother was lovely, an elegant, plainspoken woman of about 60 when we met. She’d moved from Louisville, like us. She ushered my wife and me into the living room that afternoon in 1988 to sit by the fire and talk about this house she had to sell because her husband had grown infirm.

Louis Loewenstein, more than 20 years her senior, was sitting in a plastic-lined easy chair, speaking in German to his long-dead mother.

For 50 years he’d been the assistant to the general manager of Wanamaker's, I recall her saying. June was his second wife, a millinery buyer, which accounted for those glorious hat boxes in the basement.

Novels by Dos Passos, Hemingway, Faulkner, Fitzgerald filled the built-in bookshelves. On a hunch, I paged through a few. First editions.

Off by itself was a self-portrait in ink. The inscription, as I remember, read “Louis, thanks for everything. … Cole.”

Kate Kapust told me the story. A few years out of Princeton, her stepfather found himself working in the theater with Cole Porter on Anything Goes, then unnamed.

“After much discussion and no decision regarding the name, Louis said, ‘Just pick something — anything goes,’ and that became the name.” Her stepfather, she remembers, “was a rather elegant man who, before he was ill, always looked 10 to 15 years younger than he was. He always reminded me of Fred Astaire.”

She told me how Louis and her mother loved music, how they’d have drinks in the living room before dinner, blasting “Can Do” from Guys and Dolls on the stereo.

Kate went on about how her mother would have redone the house, and sold off the antiques acquired by Louis’s first wife, Helen, who’d died after years of illness, but how he liked things the way they were.

I shared with her one of my own family stories, how her mother had offered to sell us some of the pieces that she didn’t give to Freeman’s to be auctioned, in particular a towering burled-walnut secretary.

When I opened the cabinet, I found a faded ad from a 1937 Antiques magazine that showcased that very secretary. The New York auctioneer was a distant relation of mine, known, at least in the family, for occasionally passing off reproductions as antiques.

“We’ll take it,” I told June.

I wrote Kate how that wallpaper nearly disappeared when we moved in. My wife bought a smart new pattern that matched the teal sink and bowl. Arguments over re-doing the room have flared up during dinner hour over two decades.

A compromise, where we'd preserve a tiny portion of the faux bookshelf, and encase it in a frame fixed to the wall, was somehow forgotten a few years back.

Even my wife is glad we’ve kept it, I continue to tell myself, if only to hold that picture of Louis and June in the living room, mixing cocktails and dancing to show tunes.

Posted by Daniel Rubin @ 3:22 PM  Permalink | 2 comments
Comments   
  • Comment removed.
  • 0 like this / 0 don't   •   Posted 10:06 PM, 05/19/2008
    Pretty brave to hide your name behind some Hollywood schlock then pee on people's work. This is our last conversation.
    Blinq


2 comments
About Metro Mashup
Metro columnist Karen Heller has been an Inquirer staff writer since 1986. She has won national, state and local awards for feature writing, investigative reporting and criticism, and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in commentary. E-mail Karen here; read her columns here.

An award-winning columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer, Annette John-Hall’s twice weekly metro columns always illuminate. Her topics and storytelling challenge readers to reflect on their own perceptions, to turn off the auto response and forge a different kind of conversation. She has been nominated twice by the Inquirer for the Pulitzer Prize in commentary. E-mail Annette here; read her columns here.

Kevin Riordan’s daily newspaper byline debuted in 1972, when he was a child prodigy. He got his first real newspaper job four years later, and joined the Inquirer in 2010. A native of western Massachusetts, he lives in Haddon Heights, NJ. E-mail Kevin here; read his columns here.

Since joining The Inquirer as a staff writer in 1988, Daniel Rubin has reported from 27 countries, but most of them were small. He's a metro columnist and has been the European Correspondent for Knight Ridder Newspapers. For two years he sat at home and wrote Blinq, the paper's first daily blog. Dan began newspaper work in Norfolk and Louisville, Ky., after getting his undergraduate and graduate degrees from Northwestern University. He has lived in all four commonwealths, most recently in Pennsylvania. He teaches urban journalism at the University of Pennsylvania. E-mail Daniel here; read his columns here.

Monica Yant Kinney joined the Inquirer as a suburban reporter in 1996, moved to the City Hall Bureau two years later and was named a metro columnist in 2001 at the age of 30. As a columnist, Kinney speaks to, and for, the curious and infuriated masses, writing often about gun violence, casinos, politics, pop culture and parenting. She logs so many miles reporting in the city, suburbs and South Jersey, she finally bought a Prius. E-mail Monica here; read her columns here.

Visit Blinq 1.0 here.

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