Remembering My Good Friend, Susie
Ah, Susie.
We met around 1985 when she and her dear friend Ilse were auditing the Ecosystemology class at UC Berkeley that I, a grad student, was taking. I wound up driving the van on our field trip to see the pygmy forest of Mendocino County and, in the midst of all the undergrads, had in tow these two unusual elders (both in their 60’s). I helped them navigate uneven trails, barbwire fences, outside restrooms in the pitch dark of our overnight camp – all of which they handled with grace and good humor. I fondly remember singing movement songs with them on our long drive home.
That weekend began an amazing 27-year friendship with Susie. Very soon I was a regular at her dinners – getting my real education from the ever-changing assortment of wonderful regulars and guests, and at breakfasts where the stories behind those movement songs came alive over lox and bagels (a first for this graduate of 12 years of Catholic schools). The people’s history of my country, which Howard Zinn had taught me about in words, now Susie and her compatriots taught me about via their own autobiographies. I drank it all in. At those meals, my radical/collective thinking, grassroots strategies, and practical-visionary toolkit were explicitly but kindly honed.
I became family. Susie adopted me like she did so many younger people. She was a reliable, accepting, and warm harbor during my Bay Area years when I was coming of age (yet again? still?) and finding my way through jobs, relationships, and causes. Estranged from my own family (read needing to grow up outside of the shadow of much older siblings and Republican parents), Susie was a key member of my Terrific Trio, open-minded elders who lovingly mothered me into womanhood.
In 1987, I was planning to travel to an International Women’s Solidarity Conference in the Philippines and “swing through” Thailand to revisit the village of my Peace Corps days. Susie delighted me by announcing that she wanted to come along. There are so many remarkable memories from that trip that are illustrative of Susie’s nature… let me share three. Susie was the über-trooper throughout rural Philippines, sleeping on floors with thin mats, coping with humid heat and long hours of mostly tortuous road travel. Her poor ankles ballooned up until they disappeared, leaving odd straight columns between her knees and toes. I knew she was miserable but she was the picture of go-with-the-flow good cheer. The long hours of needing to keep her feet up allowed for many more conversations with these mostly-in-their-20’s organizers of a people’s movement that deeply impressed her by its intelligence and heart. They, too, were moved that an American elder would really care about their struggles and asked Susie to give the keynote address for their International Women’s Day on March 8th. Susie’s remarks were affectionate, authentic, and generous.
Part of the conference took us by plane to the island of Mindanao, then a very troubled place thick with the omnipresence of fully armed military, breaking waves of dark brown from unmitigated pollution, poor families panning for flecks of gold in mercury-laden swamps, and on and on. It was a heart-breaking, eye-opening, claustrophobic visit. Preparing to leave and return to Manila, young organizers approached us about smuggling out sensitive documents that they had no other way of getting to their US allies. We agreed. A short time later, Susie and I were at the airport surrounded by extra beefed up armed security and suddenly all of our bags were set to be searched, something we had been assured would not happen to Americans. I moved quickly and without really thinking, I somehow transferred the documents into my oversized purse, winked at Susie and gently escorted her to the nearby women’s restroom. “Susie, this will not be pleasant,” I said, folding the seven sheets of paper twice to make a thick pointy wad. “Put these in your fake breast…and hurry.” I was banking that no Filipino man was going to pat down a woman his grandmother’s age. It worked. You can imagine how many times Susie and I entertained ourselves and others by telling of that escapade, and yet we both knew it was a very small gesture to our sisters who did not get to leave that stifling, dangerous environment.
Emotionally saturated from our days in the Philippines, we headed for Thailand to rest, and enjoy the best food on the planet and a big homecoming for me. Susie was the hit. First, it was inconceivable to them that an elder would ever travel so very far and my Thai friends were fascinated. Secondly, for the two of us to be friends – Susie and I had nearly 35 years between us – also did not compute for the Thais. But Susie kept surprising all of us with her intrepid nature, sharp perceptions and easy laughter.
Fast forward. Over the years, Susie and I nurtured this friendship of mutual respect and gratitude, and stayed in regular touch. After moving to Colorado in 1994, I’d stay with her whenever visiting Oakland, often bringing my partner, Bill, who quickly got adopted, too. We also visited Susie in Montreal twice. The first time I was in an ankle cast with Susie pushing me (!) in a wheelchair at the Botanical Gardens, and then again in early 2012. (Both times, she was the consummate hostess, insisting on sleeping on the couch so we could have the bed.) She never failed to recount our extraordinary Asian travels and I reminded her that she “grew me up,” kept me tethered on chaotic days and encouraged on smoother ones during those foundational Bay Area years. How we toasted the grand times we had!
Susie was more of a role model to me than I can fully express. A woman who shaped my values by living hers, who affirmed my strengths by serving as that mirror and who took each day and lived it well. She was always so alive to the many worlds: her immediate one, the ones her family and friends inhabited, and that of the greater global family. And she was game for compelling theater, good food, easy walks, heated discussions, and, well, yes, field trips to Mendocino and Mindanao.
Faretheewell, my dearest Susie. You are deeply loved and richly remembered.
Gailmarie Kimmel
Fort Collins, Colorado, USA
