November 11, 1944--Mom to Dad

November 7, 1944

Dear, by this time you've had more mail from me, haven't you? You should know that things are pretty definite about our being parents next July. Isn't it super wonderful hon? Oh darling I'm so excited and happy I don't know that I can keep it a secret much longer. I want the whole world to know that I'm the luckiest girl in it 'cause I'm going to be a mommy. Joe darling, I love Mary-Jo's daddy awfully very much.

Very once in a while a baby Joe was mentioned.

Darling, I am so excited I doubt if I can keep it a secret much longer. I'll probably tell my mother soon and Peggy is likely it get it out of me at any time. Joe, I like having secrets with you. Dear, it's thrilling hearing my hubby say, "hello mommy."

November 8

Today I''m feeling quite chipper 'cause I talked with my husband last night. Dear, it was so exciting to share our secret. I like being a future mother awfully much. I love Mary-Jo's future daddy just millions of billions of times. I love ou more than all the babies that were born this year. Just think hon, ours will be one of the babies who'll be born next year. Byrdie just told me before that Gladys Adams ( the secretary who married her boss, remember) is expecting a baby the end of April. I had all I could do to keep from telling her that Mary Koch is expecting a baby the beginning of July. It's really too soon to tell anyone yet though. I wonder how the doctor will figure. I understand that they estimate one week after the first day of your last period and then say it'll be nine months from then. Which means that he'd probably say sometime around July 8th. My guess is about the 15th though. I've decided I'll wait until the 26th of Nov., which would normally be my next period and then if nothing happens, I'll arrange to go to the doctor the following week. I think I'll call Dr. Schanno and ask him to recommend me to someone.

November 7 and 8, 1944--Mary to Joe

November 7, 1944

Dear, by this time you've had more mail from me, haven't you? You should know that things are pretty definite about our being parents next July. Isn't it super wonderful hon? Oh darling I'm so excited and happy I don't know that I can keep it a secret much longer. I want the whole world to know that I'm the luckiest girl in it 'cause I'm going to be a mommy. Joe darling, I love Mary-Jo's daddy awfully very much.

Very once in a while a baby Joe was mentioned.

Darling, I am so excited I doubt if I can keep it a secret much longer. I'll probably tell my mother soon and Peggy is likely it get it out of me at any time. Joe, I like having secrets with you. Dear, it's thrilling hearing my hubby say, "hello mommy."

November 8

Today I''m feeling quite chipper 'cause I talked with my husband last night. Dear, it was so exciting to share our secret. I like being a future mother awfully much. I love Mary-Jo's future daddy just millions of billions of times. I love ou more than all the babies that were born this year. Just think hon, ours will be one of the babies who'll be born next year. Byrdie just told me before that Gladys Adams ( the secretary who married her boss, remember) is expecting a baby the end of April. I had all I could do to keep from telling her that Mary Koch is expecting a baby the beginning of July. It's really too soon to tell anyone yet though. I wonder how the doctor will figure. I understand that they estimate one week after the first day of your last period and then say it'll be nine months from then. Which means that he'd probably say sometime around July 8th. My guess is about the 15th though. I've decided I'll wait until the 26th of Nov., which would normally be my next period and then if nothing happens, I'll arrange to go to the doctor the following week. I think I'll call Dr. Schanno and ask him to recommend me to someone.

She Aids Group That Aided Her

- A Newsday article reprinted by permission, Newsday, Inc.
Copyright, 1995

When her husband, Joseph, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 1985, Mary Koch did what most wives-turned-caregivers would do. She joined an organization that offered support groups and advice. In her case, the Long Island chapter of the Alzheimer's Association, with an office in Patchogue.

After her husband died in 1987, Koch,now 73, remained an active supporter. This dedication has led her up the volunteer ladder to her present position as the chapter's legislativeadvocate. She also leads a support group in Elmont.

"We have twenty-eight support groups for
caregivers on Long Island," said Koch, who lives in Uniondale. "I was part of a support group when my husband was diagnosed. We discuss problems and everyone tries to help each other." Names of day-care groups, respite-care contacts and Medicaid information are offered at these meetings, often held twice monthly. "We encourage people to go to support groups," she said. "It helps to know how others handle situations."

A former social studies teacher at Uniondale High School, she now uses that training in her advocacy role. She suggests that the chapter's 500 registered members write
letters to the state and contact congressmen whenever legislation affecting Alzheimer's is on the agenda. "I'm concerned about Medicaid cuts as it applies to home care," Koch said. "Alzheimer patients are not able to follow advice to push a button [to summon help]. They need caregivers a full day."

Based on census figures, she estimates there are about 40,000 families with Alzheimer
patients on Long Island. For further information, contact Koch at 486-5607 or the Patchogue office at 289-6335.

In Praise of My Grandma

Katie Koch Hubbell, wrote this on August 11, 1999.

Although I have not been fortunate enough to have lived close by my Grandma throughout my life, I have always admired her and looked up to her. I am constantly telling my friends and people I meet about what an incredible person my grandmother is. I hope to have half her energy and strength when I am 78 years old. I think many people would be grateful to have it when they are half her age.

It's often difficult to find Female role models who demonstrate the qualities that I value in people and I have been fortunate to have several of those role models in my life, my Grandma being one of them. As a young female trying to struggle through life and establish myself, I find solace in the fact that women like Grandma Mary were there before me laying the path. Knowing that despite growing up in times when women were not given as many opportunities as we are today and seeing the incredible things my Grandma was able to accomplish, I feel confident that I can accomplish similar things.

Another wonderful thing that I have to thank my Grandma for is for giving birth and raising my father. I admire my dad and strongly feel that my Grandma played a huge role in helping him develop into the wonderful person that he is. Thank You GRANDMA

Mom Remembers Her Dad

Mom didn't reminisce very much, but she posted this to Nolan in 1989 before she got sick.

There aren’t many one dotters who can tell you about our mom and dad, particularly about our dad, since he died when I was 17 and most of my siblings were much younger. As the oldest of my parent’s children, I should share a few memories.

My dad was very special to me. He took me everywhere with him since he liked to go for drives in the car and not everyone wanted to go. I always asked if we would stop for food along the way, and he almost always obliged. However we did go on family trips. Once I remember going to Montreal. We always went out on Long Island in the summer, renting a bungalow usually for a month. In fact he wanted to buy a place, but my mom was reluctant. Remember, there were very few amenities then, just old fashioned ice boxes and poor stoves. He would commute to the city often and come out on weekends.

One summer he when I was 12 I want to camp out there. I remember getting a letter, which I can’t find, telling me that he bought a book that even I couldn’t finish in one night - GONE WITH THE WIND - He knew that I sneaked into the bathroom at night to read after I was supposed to be in bed for the night.

His law office in N.Y. was just across from City Hall, and he often took me there when there was going to be a parade to welcome a celebrity to City Hall. I vaguely remember when I was a young kid going to see Lindberg’s celebration in 1927.

My dad was a lawyer who took pity on people who couldn’t afford to pay much. During the depression he had many clients who couldn’t pay him. When he died my mom found a file cabinet filled with unpaid bills from people he had helped. Fortunately, he did have people who paid so we were not too destitute during the 30’s.

He was a Democrat and was a Roosevelt man, but I remember his coming home one day proclaiming “ He closed the banks.” As a family we talked politics. My parents supported FDR and his New Deal. That is probably the reason why I became an FDR supporter In fact I cast my first vote for President for Roosevelt.

Unfortunately long before doctors had the modern medicines that control high blood pressure, my dad had very high blood pressure that caused him many health problems During the last years of his life he was in the hospital many times. My mom was 12 years younger than my dad and still in her childbearing years. Around the time each of my youngest brothers was born, she also had a sick husband to care for. Since I was in my teens I used to take care of them when she would be at the hospital. I was almost 14 yrs. older than Frank and was so close to him when he was young , his dying this winter was very hard for me.

My dad died in Jan. 1939 at age 52, leaving my mom a widow with 7 children at age 40. Because my dad was an independent lawyer he had no pension; due to his health conditions he had been unable to get much insurance. My mom was left with limited income except for the low rent from some old houses my dad owned in Brooklyn. My older half-brother Jim was in Law School at this point and I was entering my Senior year at high school, expecting to go to college when I graduated. I remember well my father’s brother Bill saying to my mom: “Well you’re lucky, Mary is a girl so she doesn’t need to go to college. ..I remember thinking maybe not now but certainly some day.”

She Looked on Tempests and Was Never Shaken

Today is the second anniversary of my mother's death, April 9. I wanted to share again this wonderful tribute that my daughter Katherine wrote two years ago.

I knew her as my Grandma, and I knew her best when I was a kid or a teenager, and that seems to be the only way I can write about her. So. Here is the best composite sketch I can come up with:

She enters the room, and calls out “greetings, greetings.” (Or, if it’s our house in Baldwin, she shakes her head, says “chaos, chaos”, and promptly misplaces her purse.)

She is always, always moving—that’s the first thing you have to know about her. This occasionally verges on the absurd--she used to do laps around McDonald’s by the side of the highway on long trips, and I remember Aunt Sherry once whispering to me “right, no more coffee for you”, as Grandma completed her fourth circuit of the kitchen and stairs on a rainy day in New Woodstock. And when she breaks more bones in the course of a year than the typical casualty rate of a Koch ski trip, or you’re trying to pack up your college doom room, it’s downright unnerving.

But for the most part it’s a very good thing. I don’t know how many countries she went to, or how many lobbying trips to Washington D.C., but I remember our trip to France together; and her descriptions of how Ted Kennedy’s new wife seemed to be doing him good, and which Congressmen were decent guys in spite of being Republicans. And I’ve more than lost count of the times she took my sisters and me to the pool, or the beach, or to visit one of our relatives. But I’ll never forget that the way back from Mark and Maura’s house requires pulling into the Croton Library parking lot and doing a U turn. (At this point, of course, it’s partly because Uncle Mark refuses to tell us the alternate route.)

She also took us into New York City a lot, but the trip to Manhattan I remember the best was the least successful. I was in eighth or ninth grade, and Patricia was in fourth or fifth. Grandma took the two of us and my sister’s best friend into New York for Patricia’s birthday. We were going to Central Park and a museum, I think—I’m not sure because we never got there. Grandma’s route to New York was even more circuitous than the way home from Croton. The Long Island Railroad was too expensive, and parking in Manhattan was right out, so she would drive to a municipal parking lot in Queens where you could park all day for $2, and then walk ten minutes or so to the subway—I don’t remember which station, somewhere near the end of the E line. This time, though, our meter was broken. I suggested we move to another space, but she was not willing to waste those quarters, so she wrote a note and taped it to the parking meter. Unfortunately, in the confusion, she left her car keys sitting on the driver’s seat—she realized this somewhere under the streets of Manhattan.

We turned around, and no one had broken the window or stolen the car. But here, I thought, was an object lesson for Grandma—moderation in all things, including frugality.
She’d have to pay for a locksmith, which cost much more than the extra quarters or, God forbid, a train ticket.

She did no such thing. Instead she asked a rough looking young man on a nearby sidewalk to help her break into her car. He was happy to assist. When he could not get the door open, he called over a friend. Who said, after a few more unsuccessful attempts to pick the lock, that what they really needed was a crowbar, but since he didn’t have his around and Grandma was not crazy about that, they’d better ask another friend. Who said, and I quote, “what we really need is a Puerto Rican.”

I don’t know whether they found a Puerto Rican, and I don’t remember how long we stood there, Grandma smiling encouragingly and offering occasional advice, or how many neighborhood kids were debating the best way to break into a Toyota Camry by the end—it’s probably somewhat exaggerated in my memory. I can tell you that in the end, the simple yet elegant coat-hanger-through-the-window-to-pull-up-the-button-technique did the trick. The lock suffered some damage from the good samaritans’ enthusiastic efforts, but you could get the door open more often than not. And from then on, we parked in the driveway of a high school friend of Grandma’s—10 minutes further away from a subway station even further down the E line, but $2.00 cheaper than the municipal lot and much less risk of a break in.

(As I was writing all of that, I realized---it’s not quite accurate to say she was always moving. I just remembered the nights in Henry Street when she would tuck us in, and tell us to lie still and imagine we were floating on a cloud. There were also her “yoga,” excuse me, ‘yoger” exercises. But if I ever want to finish this, I should move on, so….)

She was incredibly smart, and incredibly interested in the world around her—whether it was the history of the China lobby or when any of her nieces, nephews and grandchildren would finally, in her words “find yourself a mate”.

She also had the strongest faith of anyone I’ve ever known. Maybe it was that combination, that fierce intellect and that certain belief and trust in God, that made her so strong. Much more often than not her beliefs coincided with the Catholic Church, but when they differed she was not shy about saying so…On most of the many nights I slept over at the house on Henry Street, I wore a polyester blend, 1970s issue T-shirt that said in glittery bubble letters “When God Created Man, She Was Only Joking.” And I remember her telling me about sneaking in inclusive language to her frequent readings at St. Martha’s, much to the new parish priest’s chagrin.

And on the much more frequent occasions when her children and grandchildren did something she disapproved of—she let us know in no uncertain terms, but there was never a single moment’s doubt that she loved and accepted us anyway. I’ll always think of her when I read these lines from Shakespeare’s 116th sonnet::

“Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.”

I know, it’s a love poem—and a truly bizarre choice for a description of one’s grandmother. But—getting back to photographs, and with apologies for the embarrassment this may cause certain unnamed relatives of mine--I defy you to find a better or funnier illustration of Shakespeare’s words than the picture posted above of Grandma Mary, Grandpa Joe, and their wayward offspring in the early 1970s:

She was in many ways a third parent to me. I think I’ve spent more time with my husband at this point, but I’m not at all sure of that. She was someone who could be counted on absolutely, without question or condition. She looked on tempests and was never shaken, and I’m not only talking about my uncles’ hairdos when I say that. I don’t think I’ve ever owed as much to, or cared as much about, anyone to whom I expressed it so little. But she was not the most demonstrative person either, so maybe she knew. I lack her certainty about God and heaven, but I hope very much that she knows now.

Mom on a Ladder, Christmas 1953

Characteristically, Mom is on the ladder decorating the top of the Christmas tree. Notice she isn't holding onto anything to keep her balance. She does appear to be wearing an apron. I am just grinning for the photographer. It probably never occurred to either Mom or Dad to reverse roles.

I keep noticing all that tinsel on Koch Christmas trees. The Hawkins family long ago abandoned tinsel for fear first the babies and then the cats would eat it. Besides, Chris could not stand to watch the girls hurl tinsel at the tree in huge clumps.

Legend has it that Mom was on a ladder painting the living room ceiling the day Richard was born. Given that he was born at 11:45 pm, that is probably true.

Interview with Mom, 1980

Interviewed by Cynthia Nieves

Mrs. Mary Koch is a social studies instructor who teaches at Uniondale High. This year will be her last at the high school as she moves on into another phase of her life, a phase she describes as one in which there is a
need for change, a different type of growth. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to interview her. I never was able to know her personally, but in the passage of a mere half hour I found her to be an incredibly refreshing individual--one with courage, enthusiasm, and an unquenchable desire constantly to expand her intellectual horizons.

Q. How many years have you taught and how many of those years were spent at Uniondale High?
A. I have taught eleven years and all have been spent at Uniondale High.

Q. What do you feel is the most rewarding experience you have gained during your teaching career?
A. I would have to say my association with the students. I decided to teach at the high school level because I felt the students, being older and more mature, would have more to say and offer on an intellectual level than at an elementary school.

Q. Why did you decided to become a history teacher and did not choose English or math, etc?
A. I've always enjoyed history. I majored in history and acquired my masters in it as well. I had originally planned to be a journalist, but changes in my life--marriage and other things--led me to teaching, and being interested in politics as well, I decided to teach a course I myself enjoy.

Q. Do you feel the students of today are much different from the students of yesterday?
A. When I first came, there was much more turbulence because of the times. I find that students are less involved in public affairs now. At that time, when I began to teach, there was more interest in government and the welfare of the world than there is now. Apathy is the big problem. I have seen positive changes in the young women especially. Girls are much more involved in sports and positions of leadership today.

Q. What do you plan to do after you retire?
A. I don't think of myself as "retiring." I feel this is an important phase in my life, and I want to change, to do something different. I plan to work for this organization called Bread for the World--a lobby-like group that hopes to influence Congress into aiding the hungry, starved,
underdeveloped nations in the world. Having a deep interest in politics, I believe this is a movement that I will help grow--so in reality, I'm not leaving education.

Q. If you had it all to do over again, would you teach?
A. Probably not. In terms of today's world and the new roles women have taken--the whole array of opportunities available--I would definitely go into law if I had it all to do over again. It's not that I regret teaching. It's just that it was the sensible thing to do in that period of my life. It ws good for me.

Q. How would you sum up your years at Uniondale?
A. Happy years overall. Of course there were times of discontent and discouragement when I couldn't seem to get pupils excited and interested in learning, but for that phase of my life it was good for me. Now it's ti me to move on. I'm excited about doing something new.

Q. Is there anything you'd care to say, before we close, to the students.
A. Yes. Be involved . Be committed. Students just sort of drift now. Live! One needs to care about people, the world. I only hope that I can educate the public about the people who need compassion, an outstretched hand. One always needs to keep trying.

Dad Describes Meeting Mom

Her name was Mary, of course. She was a blue-eyed, smiling, long-legged, cool looking girl--a trifle naive. A girl with class he thought when he first saw her, but young. A bus seems an awful place for things to start, but there was she on a bus going to church and planning to have a chocolate ice cream cone with sprinkelettes. He was going to church too, but she sat in back of him and that was that.

He said hello to her that afternoon or more likely she said hello to him. Again nothing happened--there are lots of shapely girls in blue bathing suits at a lake summer resort. The summer resort was one of those let’s-be-one’big-happy-family sort of places--it even had a social director and a social directrix. Naturally one afternoon there was a baseball game in which all the boys and girls (in those places they’re all boys and girls even if the boys and girls have big boys and girls of their own) were to participate. Well this particular boy and girl were antisocial or mutually social. They sat out the ball game on a raft. Long afterward he learned her reason why she was there but being a romantic still doesn’t believe it.

They talked about prosaic things--families and schools; after all he was a shy young man. She wasn’t. Maybe that is why he was sure it happened then. That’s the trouble with shy young men: they are not used to openhearted friendliness. He never knew what she saw in him, but for the rest of the week they were summer friends. He struggled a little bit--an inherent male instinct. Why one rainy afternoon they went to a Bing Crosby movie in separate groups. They had only a week, not even a full one.

However, this time it did happen on a bus. They had made some sort of plan to ride back to New York on the same bus. He from the summer resort, she from Albany where she was visiting. He was positive. She says it couldn’t haven happened then--that soon.

He didn’t know the proper method of courting a girl, not a beautiful one like her. Oh he was quite proper. The movies he took her to were always approved for adults and children. A baseball game, a few football games, a little bowling--that was about all. He didn’t have much time, altogether three months. He then went away as did twelve million other men young and old. Oh yes, he finally kissed her once. He was very proper and very shy and afraid she would say no.

She Looked on Tempests and Was Never Shaken

From Katherine's tribute to Mom in April 2004:

She was incredibly smart, and incredibly interested in the world around her—whether it was the history of the China lobby or when any of her nieces, nephews and grandchildren would finally, in her words “find yourself a mate.”

She also had the strongest faith of anyone I’ve ever known. Maybe it was that combination, that fierce intellect and that certain belief and trust in God, that made her so strong. Much more often than not her beliefs coincided with the Catholic Church, but when they differed she was not shy about saying so. On most of the many nights I slept over at the house on Henry Street, I wore a polyester blend, 1970s issue T-shirt that said in glittery bubble letters “When God Created Man, She Was Only Joking.” And I remember her telling me about sneaking in inclusive language to her frequent readings at St. Martha’s, much to the new parish priest’s chagrin.

And on the much more frequent occasions when her children and grandchildren did something she disapproved of—she let us know in no uncertain terms, but there was never a single moment’s doubt that she loved and accepted us anyway. I’ll always think of her when I read these lines from Shakespeare’s 116th sonnet::

“Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.”

I know, it’s a love poem—and a truly bizarre choice for a description of one’s grandmother. But—getting back to photographs, and with apologies for the embarrassment this may cause certain unnamed relatives of mine--I defy you to find a better or funnier illustration of Shakespeare’s words than this picture of Grandma Mary, Grandpa Joe, and their wayward offspring in the early 1970s.

She was in many ways a third parent to me. I think I’ve spent more time with my husband at this point, but I’m not at all sure of that. She was someone who could be counted on absolutely, without question or condition. She looked on tempests and was never shaken, and I’m not only talking about my uncles’ hairdos when I say that. I don’t think I’ve ever owed as much to, or cared as much about, anyone to whom I expressed it so little. But she was not the most demonstrative person either, so maybe she knew. I lack her certainty about God and heaven, but I hope very much that she knows now.

Mom Remembers Her Dad

In 1999, Mom shared these memories of her dad with the Nolan email list.

"There aren't many one dotters who can tell you about our mom and dad, particularly about our dad, since he died when I was 17 and most of my siblings were much younger. As the oldest of my parent's children, I should share a few memories. My dad was very special for me. He took me everywhere with him since he liked to go for drives in the car and not everyone wanted to go. I always asked if we would stop for food along the way, and he almost always obliged.

However we did go on family trips. Once I remember going to Montreal. We always went out on Long Island in the summer, renting a bungalow, usually for a month. In fact he wanted to buy a place but my mom was reluctant. Remember, there were very few amenities then, just old fashioned ice boxes and poor stoves. He would commute to the city often and come out on weekends.

One summer when I was 12, I want to camp out there. I remember getting a letter (which I can't find) telling me that he bought I book that even I couldn't finish in one night - GONE WITH THE WIND - He knew that I sneaked into the bathroom at night to read after I was supposed to be in bed for the night.

His law office in N.Y. was just across from City Hall and he often took me there when there was going to be a parade to welcome a celebrity to City Hall. I vaguely remember when I was a young kid going to see Lindberg's celebration in 1927. My dad was a lawyer who took pity on people who couldn't afford to pay much. During the depression he had many clients who couldn't pay him. When he died my mom found a file cabinet filled with unpaid bills from people he had helped. Fortunately, he did have people who paid so we were not too destitute during the 30's.

He was a Democrat and was a Roosevelt man, but I remember his coming home one day proclaiming, " He closed the banks." As a family we talked politics. My parents supported FDR and his New Deal. That is probably the reason why I became an FDR supporter In fact I cast my
first vote for President for Roosevelt.

Unfortunately, long before doctors had the modern medicines that control high blood pressure, my dad had very high blood pressure that caused him many health problems During the last years of his life he was in the hospital many times. My mom was 12 years younger than my dad and still in her childbearing years. Around the time each of my youngest brothers was born, she also had a sick husband to care for. Since I was in my teens, I used to take care of them when she would be at the hospital I was almost 14 years older than Frank and was so close to him when he was young , his dying this winter was very hard for me

My dad died in Jan. 1939 at age 52, leaving my mom a widow with 7 children at age 40. Because my dad was an independent lawyer he had no pension; due to his health conditions he had been unable to get much insurance. My mom was left with limited income except for the low rent from some old houses my dad owned in Brooklyn. My older half-brother Jim was in Law School at this point and I was entering my Senior year at high school, expecting to go to college when I graduated. I remember well my father's brother Bill saying to my mom: "Well you're lucky, Mary is a girl so she doesn't need to go to college. I remember thinking maybe not now but certainly some day."