Helen Lemberger Udkovich
February 18, 1915 ~ December 24,
2006
Beloved friend and Charter Member, Helen "Helly" Udkovich, passed away on December 24, 2006. Her funeral was officiated by Rabbi Alan Henkin to a room filled to capacity with those who loved and admired her.
Helly is remembered by temple members in so many ways as she brought love, acceptance and a sparkle to TBS. She chaired the first Passover Seder held at Temple Beth Solomon in 1965. In 1966, Her expert skills as a seamstress, produced the blue velvet curtain for the Ark which housed our sacred 375 year-old Torah, saved from Nazi destruction during the Holocaust, just as she herself was saved. She served on the Board of Directors from 1987-1993 and before that as membership chairperson. A part of Helly will still be at every Shabbat service and every Passover seder in each of our hearts.
Included in this tribute to Helly are the loving eulogies given by family members at her funeral along with memories from long-time friend, Joyce Linden.
Eulogy, by Hedy Udkovich Stern
I thank everyone again for being here to honor and to pay their last respects to my Mom. She always loved people and seeing them always made her happy. She'd really have wanted to be here with us this morning. The three of us family members, who are here, are wearing something special for her. Ron picked a ski tie. Bren is wearing a dog tie. I have on an Israeli necklace with the birthstones of Louise and Shoshannah, who are with us in spirit and together right now in a very important place within Mom's lifetime, London.
Mom specifically requested only two things for her funeral: to have Rabbi Henkin officiate and to be buried with her beloved Husband, Louis. She'd have been pleased to know Rabbi Alan is with us today. He advised me to write down my eulogy as this would be an emotional time and to "tell the story" of my Mom's Life which I shall. Mom always enjoyed hearing stories told about our family; other people; our travels and different experiences. During the last six months or so, she asked for stories about herself, so it is most appropriate that I relate the story of my Mother's Life. Let me begin:
Helene Alberta Lemberger, also known as Helli (name sign was for her auburn hair done up in braids while she was young) or Helly.
The final "e" in Helene was dropped when she came to America since at that time in the early 50's it was a melting pot and un-American names were altered in order to be assimilated. So you probably called her either Helly or Helen.
Mom was born in Vienna (Wien), Austria on February 18, 1915. It was a tumultuous time in that country - historically and politically. She came prior to World War I, the second child of Richard and Hedwig Lemberger. Richard was a prominent and very well-respected lawyer who often did pro-bono work on behalf of homosexuals and other issues that were very ahead of the times. Hedwig was a much-loved school teacher and quite the adventurous lady. She skied and was one of the first women to attempt mountain climbing - in long heavy skirts! Mom's older brother, Freidl, died while young from a ruptured appendix. Her younger sister was Erna, whom many of you will have fond recollections as Erny.
Mom attended an oral school in Vienna and was truly a bright student. She took up the fine art of sewing. She also learned how to ski and was a fine athlete, competing for her country in swimming at the Deaf Olympics held in Paris.
There, Mom met a lovely English couple, Raymond and Jeannie Saunders. At that time, the Holocaust was starting to brew and they encouraged Mom to contact them should she ever need help.
We shall never know what truly happened to Mom during that terrible time, but the little we do, shows that she and her parents were sent to Thereinstadt, Czechoslovakia. This was the model concentration camp to which intellectuals and professional people were sent. This was the facility that the Red Cross went to visit and came back reporting that "everything was all right". Her parents perished there, but miraculously Mom escaped to London.
Tante Erny was able to come to the United States because she was hearing and had a sponsor in an uncle and aunt already living in Los Angeles. Mom, because she was Deaf, was termed an alien and could not accompany Erny.
So, Mom spent 14 wonderful and safe years in London, living with her English family (the Saunders) and their young daughter, Gabrielle, known affectionately as Gaby. She lived through the Blitz and remembers the shelters and black-outs. There, she learned to play tennis and badminton and shone again in sports. She worked as a seamstress and finally saved enough money to travel to California to visit Erny. She came on the Queen Mary.
After a few weeks, Mom was bored living within a hearing household and wondered whether there was a Deaf Club. Someone knew of a deaf lady living in Pacific Palisades (where Erny's house was) by the name of Willa Dudley, who had graduated from Gallaudet and was a founder of the California School for the Deaf, Riverside. So it was arranged that Willa would pick up Mom one evening and take her to the Los Angeles Club for the Deaf. She had a fine time and everyone was buzzing about the pretty European lady. My Dad, whom many of you will remember as being shy and quiet, worked up enough nerve to ask her out for a date for the next morning at the beach.
Three months later, my parents married, on August 31, 1951, in a civil ceremony. Mom returned to London to collect her belongings and then sailed back on the Queen Elizabeth, which was quite new. My father drove cross-country and met her in New York City where they visited some of his family. Then they had a honeymoon driving back, stopping in Washington DC to visit Mom's Uncle Ernst, who was the Ambassador to the United States from Austria. On the way, they drove through New Mexico (probably on Route 66), where Ron and I now call "Home."
A year later when Mom was 38 years old she gave birth - to me, which was highly unusual for 1952. I was given the name, Hedy Marilyn, in memory of both of my Grandmothers-Hedwig, and my Father's Mother, Mary. Two weeks later, we moved into our home at 17144 Lorne Street in Van Nuys, where many of you have visited.
During my childhood, I saw that Mom derived many joys: from her family, the 3 of us; from being close to her Sister, Erny; being reunited with her old Friend from Vienna, Elsa Colick; her new family from my Father's side-Uncle Abe, his wife Helen, (whom we called the "Hearing Helen," since incidentially, they were both Helen Udkoviches) and their children, Arlene and Michael. Her Deaf Family also expanded by leaps and bounds; Temple Beth Solomon was such an integral part of her Life. She served in many positions-always helping others and always willing to assume responsibilities. She also enjoyed being a member of the Women's Club. When I started school at Mary E. Bennett, then Riverside and finally going off to Gallaudet, she loved meeting and befriending my schoolmates-some of whom are with us here today. And she enjoyed exploring the World - going off on travels with her Friends.
When I fell in love with Ron, the grandson of another Temple member, Bea Stern Glenn, a new chapter in Mom's Life opened up. She loved him dearly and really listened to him. I was just her baby and I didn't know better, but Ron was always right, even though oftentimes we would say the same thing! She cared deeply for his parents, Ruth and Jimmy Stern of New York and they had a loving relationship.
While I was pregnant with our first, both Mom and Daddy were truly looking forward to the blessed event. Sadly, my Father passed away on Friday, October 20, 1978, the same night that I went into labor. Early Sunday morning, our baby girl was born and was named Louise, after him. Later on that same morning, my Father was buried here at Mt. Sinai and the Rabbi quoted "What the Lord taketh, he giveth." Louise was able to provide Mom much joy but she mourned deeply and always the loss of her husband of 27 years.
Two years later, Shoshannah followed and 2 years after that, Brendan Udkovich. Each time, Granny, as we called her since it was so English sounding, drove up immediately all by herself to Northern California, even though she was close to 70. For many years, she'd come to baby-sit the children and to celebrate many happy occasions. We also came to 17144 for every Thanksgiving and Passover and to visit Disneyland and the beaches.
Then Mom moved to Walnut Creek to be close to us. When we moved to Santa Fe, Mom decided to return to Los Angeles where her true Home was and settled at Pilgrim Towers, where she made new friends. Only a bit over a month ago, she moved to CHAD where she'd be watched over tenderly. Right down to the end, she looked forward to her last trip in November to see Louise in London, her weekly visits with Shoshannah and her regular Video Phone conversations with Bren and with us.
During her last week in the hospital, I told Mom many stories again. She also shared some stories-meeting people in her dreams; seeing something white outlined in black in front of her; making plans for her final trip and wanting to get a new sweater for that. When told that this would be a free trip, she inquired what time she could leave and I gently told her that Heaven, if it truly existed, was open every day, all day and all night - she smiled. Who would she see? Oh-her Husband Louis, whom she hadn't seen for 28 years, her Sister Erny, who left us 5 years ago, her Mutter and Vater and many of her Friends, especially Aunt Elsa and Uncle Alvin, who departed only about 2 months ago. She again smiled and marveled at that. She wanted me to tell you all that she'd miss you and that she sends you love.
Mom was surrounded by her Family and with much adoration during her final days. While I was at her bedside holding her hands, her last whisper of breath left her at about 7:40 pm Christmas Eve.
Flutter away like a butterfly and rest in Peace, my most cherished Mother whom I shall miss every day and whom I shall always carry in my Heart.
By Louise Stern
I loved being with her, around her; talking with her. I can't believe that I am not going to have that pleasure again. She was warm and friendly up to the very end too! Her body was so small and fragile. The last time I saw her in London, she was drifting in and out of lucidity, and at times the people around her would be talking about her: if she was going to be okay, what she understood and what she needed. She would meet my eye and giggle at the silliness of it. I'm just missing her very much.
By Brendan Stern
Today, we have a choice: We can remember Granny and then toss everything aside to continue with our separate lives or we can remember Granny not only by talking about her today but by also carrying on her ideas, her beliefs, her values, her dreams, her legacy.
But who was Granny? How can we carry a part of her with us?
I remember how Granny threw a ball back and forth with me when I was young - always firm and unbelievably accurate for somebody in her late 70's. I also remember how Granny swam around our houseboat in her 80s when we were vacationing at Lake Shasta - she managed to pull off the delicate combination of grace and strength with her trademark side stroke. When I think about it now, Granny always took good care of her body. She was a true model of the Jewish law that says we have two commitments to our soul and our body.
Hillel, one of the great sages of Israel, once had a towel slung over his shoulders, which sparked the curiosity of his students who questioned him about his destination. "I am going to the bath house to take care of my host," he answered. He explained that his body was the host for his soul for the duration of his journey on Earth and cited the Torah obligation to treat one's host with respect, care and concern.
Granny did exactly that.
I remember how Granny would always tell me, "You are so tall" every single time she saw me, which meant a lot to somebody like me who's only 5'11".... I guess the lesson is that you should not only see the good in everybody but if you see it, say so.
I remember how Granny would always wait for me by the front entrance of her high-rise apartment every single time I visited her when I lived in Irvine. When my visit concluded, she would always go downstairs to bid me farewell with arms waving furiously until I disappeared out of sight. One of my last memories of Granny on her deathbed was of her asking for kisses. Really, little acts of love go a long way.
I remember how Granny continued to celebrate life at its fullest, sprinkled repeatedly with idealistic giggles, even after living through the unimaginable horrors of the Holocaust. The idea she gave me is that if we think we have it bad...laugh, think good thoughts, and truck through it.
I remember how Granny was always thrilled that I was studying political science. I have to admit, I was equally thrilled this morning when I learned she always voted Democratic and loved JFK. I guess it would be fitting to close with something he said:
A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on. Ideas have endurance without death. - John F. Kennedy
For real, my granny may have passed away, nations may have problems now, but may her values, beliefs, and ideas have endurance without death. Thank you.
By Shoshannah Stern
This is emotional for me, so I just want to speak from the heart. It is so strange not being at the funeral, since Granny was such a big part of my life.
Up until her final days, she loved seeing people. She always had a smile for everybody she saw, whether she saw them in the streets, waiters, people working in offices, not to mention the friends and family she loved dearly. I saw her 24 hours before she left us, and even then, she had a smile for me.
Granny taught me so many important lessons in life for which I am forever grateful. There is one lesson in particular I'd like to share:
I always thought of Granny as having a hard life. She first thought her life was in Vienna with her family and then WWII came and with it, the Holocaust, so that life was lost; her parents and most of the people she knew. She then moved to England and thought she would make a new life there, but then came to California, met my grandfather, only to have him leave her after only 27 years. Then she took care of her beloved sister, Erny, only to lose her too. So I would always reflect on her life with a certain amount of sadness while she was alive. But when Mom and I were cleaning out her apartment, (a testament to her strength that she lived on her own up until one month ago and until last June did not need or want me to go with her to the doctor), I found a brand new stationery set that she had bought and hadn't opened. The theme of the stationery was, "A Charmed Life." I think of Granny walking down the street, going into the store and seeing that specific stationery set and thinking to herself, "Yes, my life is charmed; I have led a charmed life," and buying it for that reason. When I saw it, I realized I had been wrong in my thinking and she was exactly right. She truly did lead a charmed life because the happiness and the small pleasures she had, always meant more to her than the sadness on which she could have chosen to dwell.
I have that stationery with me now in my new house so that I can remember the lesson that my Granny taught me: Focus on the goodness in life, on the smiles and hugs and friends and family. I know that my life has been charmed by having her in it and she charmed many other people's as well. I love you Granny.
By Ron Stern
I am blessed because I have had not one but two special, wonderful mothers. My natural mother, Ruth, whom many of you know, has been with me my whole life and we continue to be as close as ever. She now lives in New Jersey and wishes she can be with us this morning. She and my dad send you their love.
Helly was also a mother to me in every sense-and was so for 35 years, from the day that Hedy and I started to see each other seriously, 5 years before we got married plus the 30 years since.
From day one, it was obvious Helly was a very special person, mother and grandmother. She had incredible inner strength and resilience. She went through the Holocaust and lost her beloved parents when she was about 20. After moving to London, she had to deal with a new, strange language and culture; as well as the German bombings of the city. Then she suffered the loss of her dear husband; Hedy's beloved father, Louis, about 28 years ago. Helly was never one who bemused those tragic events or felt sorry for herself, at least outwardly.
We saw the very same incredible qualities over the last month of Helly's life, during which she declined rapidly. Over the Thanksgiving break and after her cruise to Europe, Hedy, Sho, Bren and I were with her (that was after Hedy helped move her to CHAD from Pilgrim Towers). Though she had always been fiercely independent and nimble up to the last couple of months, she chose to almost laugh about her need to use a walker and her increasing forgetfulness. Bren and I will never forget one incident when we lifted her from the car to carry her inside. I told her this was the royal treatment for our queen, to make her feel more comfortable. Her response was sheer joy and powerful laughter.
And then came the winter break-Helly was first brought to the hospital before being transported to a hospice in West Covina where she passed away. Throughout those several days, not once did she complain, though it was evident she was in a lot of discomfort - if not pain. Because of her congestive heart failure, her organs were shutting down and by her choice did not eat or drink for about a week. As her life came to a close, she slept a lot but would invariably be thrilled and surprised when she woke to see her family around her bed. Every single time, she would flash her patented smile, blow kisses to us and want to hug us. She would refuse to answer questions about how she was feeling and instead would ask where Louise was, how we were doing and the sort. She also talked about Louis, her parents and sister, Erna, before drifting back to sleep with a smile on her face. Helly was one who truly loved her family dearly and knowing we were with her, she was content.
To the very end, she showed incredible toughness even though she was losing weight, without food or water and knew the end was coming. She displayed the very same qualities that served her so very well for her entire life in Europe and America. She chose not to feel sorry for herself at all, rather she chose to focus on and celebrate what she had and could control. These incredible qualities are her legacy and we have learned much from her. We will always love and miss her very much, but shall try our very best to immortalize her by living up to what she stood for.
Helly loved her friends and people in general - so much that she would have loved to be here amongst you. She would have been surprised to see that you have all come for her and it would have meant a lot to her. For all we know, she might be watching us right now and signing, "I am surprised, I do not believe it," in her unique way.
Thank you for your love and support. It means a lot to the family. Here is to Helly, a most special, wonderful person, mother and grandmother.
by Joyce Linden
When I was about 13 years old and my sister about 11, our parents called us outside to meet two new friends of theirs as they were preparing to leave after a visit. I remember seeing a petite and very pregnant woman with short curly red hair accompanied by a very handsome man.
We were introduced to Helen & Louis Udkovich and told that Helen had been born in Vienna and escaped to England and, obviously, that she and Louis were expecting a baby. I remember hearing Helen's German accent and being fascinated and very impressed that she knew three languages: English, German and sign language - she was the first Deaf person I'd ever met who was trilingual.
Soon afterward, I met a hearing girl, a little older than me, in the B'nai B'rith Girls group I belonged to with the same last name: Udkovich. I asked if she was related to Louis and Helen and learned that Louis was her uncle. She asked if I had seen the baby yet; the little girl named Hedy, and told me that she was a beautiful baby. When I finally did get to meet Hedy I thought (and still believe) that she was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. I was surprised to learn that Hedy was Deaf. As a hearing Coda, (child of Deaf adults) I did not know of any Deaf parents with Deaf children. This, later became a guiding influence in my journey to become a teacher of Deaf and hard of hearing students.
Over the years, I followed Hedy's schooling, both at the Mary E. Bennett School in Los Angeles, an oral school, and at the California School for the Deaf, Riverside. Helen always believed that possessing good oral skills would contribute to living fully within the hearing world ("in the mainstream") wasn't in vogue then), so I was hired to be Hedy's speech tutor. In a way, Helen was shaping her only child into the same excellent role model that she was herself. I met some of Hedy's teachers and dorm counselors and they all had positive things to say about her academic performance as well as her interpersonal skills. I knew these characteristics were taught and modeled by her parents.
Our families had a long relationship over the years, mostly because of their association and activities with Temple Beth Solomon of the Deaf. Louis' brother, Abe, was a child photographer and took pictures of my son when he was a baby. Hedy was one of my students in the first Religious School class that I taught at TBS. It was sad to realize that my first group of Sunday School students: Woody Boxer, Scott Kramer, Susan Shapiro, Gale Doling Peeples and Hedy have now all lost one or both of their parents.
Helen was a good teacher. She and Louis told me stories about Hedy, about her communication and about her education. Helen was a role model for the other mothers of the students in my Sunday-School class and even for the parents and teachers at Hedy's public schools. I learned things from Helen that I never learned in my University training to become a teacher for Deaf students. I owe her a great deal for sharing her personal experiences and for shaping my philosophy as a teacher.
Hedy spent six weeks, one summer, babysitting for my two sons, when I attended a special program at CSUN. I dropped the boys off at Helen's house, entrusting them to Hedy's care. She brags to this day that she toilet-trained my younger son, Steve.
Years later, I visited with Helen (I never learned to call her Helly) occasionally at her Lorne Street home, not far from the first house that I lived in as a very young child. She introduced me to Gevalia coffee, that I had never heard of, but drink faithfully to this day. She gave me the recipe for Cranberry Pie that she served me on one visit; it has become my family's favorite dessert, requested every year and I have eagerly shared it with friends and colleagues.
Helen Udkovich was a truly unique person; she devoted herself to her family, to the Temple, to the Community and contributed tremendously to my life. I am richer for having known her. May her memory be forever a sweet blessing.