17 July 2023

Happy Birthday, Uncle George!

Today would have been my great uncle George Bergman's 91st birthday. He contracted HIV and developed AIDS in the 80s and died in 1985. I never met him. Recently, I realized that since he didn't have any descendants, if I didn't ask my grandma about him soon, his story might be lost.

A black and white photo shows a tan white man sitting at a wooden, upright piano outside in front of a brick building with tall, skinny windows while smiling at the camera. He's wearing a striped, short-sleeved, collared shirt, a wristwatch, and dark slacks. His short, dark hair is slicked back and he has a dimpled chin. A white woman with a ruffly black dress and her light hair pulled up on top of her head leans against the piano while looking at the man.

My grandma lovingly told me about George. Her brother loved music and played one of Chopin's polonaises before he ever had a piano lesson! He enjoyed singing (he was a tenor), playing the violin and piano (he and I learned on the same piano!), and going to the opera.

George as a child in the 1930s. A black and white photo shows a young boy in a collared white shirt and dark overalls looking at the camera. He has short, dark hair slicked back and to the side, dark eyes, prominent ears, and a dimple in his chin. The background is black.

Their mother especially adored her golden boy, which I'm sure was hard for my grandma at times. There were quite a few pictures of him (as a child, he looked like one of my cousins!), and a few papers—letters from schools, news articles about him, and his funeral program.

George and his mother. On the left is a white woman with reddish, ear-length hair, red lipstick, drawn-in brown eyebrows, and a black and white collared top. She has one arm around a dark-haired white man on the right, with her hand on his shoulder, her other hand on his bicep, and her head touching his. On the right, the man is seated in a macramé-like chair and leans his elbow on the arm of the chair, with his hand up to his dimpled chin. He has short, dark hair and is wearing a floral and geometric collared top. Both are looking at the camera with a pleased look.

When George died, my grandma was by his side in Philadelphia. One of the last things he said was, "There are so many astral people around."

Carroll and George at the piano. A white man and white woman are backlit as they play a duet at a dark, upright piano. He has short, dark hair and is wearing a suit and tie. She has light hair and is wearing a white collared top with a flower on one side.

I've enjoyed using library resources to research more about him—I found him in news articles and phone books, and was delighted to learn that he and my grandparents always lived within ten blocks of my favorite and longest-yet apartment in San Francisco!

George possibly in San Francosc. A thin white man with short, light hair, a cleft chin, and a prominent Adam's apple looks toward the camera with his chin up. He is wearing a dark polo shirt, a dark wristwatch, grayish-brown flare pants, and a thick dark belt with a silver buckle. Behind him are cars, maybe from the 70s—one brown and one off-white. Behind the cars are buildings possibly in San Francisco — one with a flat, white front and reddish garage, door, and window frames, and a beige one with a bay window.

I wish I could find people who knew him in the 50s and 60s in SF and NYC. My grandma said he was a music critic for an SF newspaper, but I've only been able to confirm that he worked on the San Francisco Examiner's classifieds and wrote one opera opinion piece. Every music critic has since died.

George Bergman Italy Trip in San Francisco Examiner April 25th, 1960. A black and white image of a news clipping shows a young white man with dark hair, dark eyes, an open-lipped smile, a cleft chin, and a plaid collared shirt. The top says, 'MAJORS IN ITALIAN. A major in Italian language and literature who expects to become a teacher, he will spend about 10 weeks in a.' A B&W news clipping 'Bergman Envoy to Italy' shows a young white man with dark hair and eyes, an open-lipped smile, a cleft chin, and a plaid collared shirt. The caption says, 'GEORGE BERGMAN . . . college ambassador.' The article says: George Bergman, sophomore at San Francisco State College, will travel to Italy this summer as the school's 'college ambassador' in the experiment in International Living Program it was announced yesterday. Bergman, 27, was chosen from 18 Applicants for the trip, which is financed by the organization's Bay area Council. MAJORS IN ITALIAN A major in Italian language and literature who expects to become a teacher, he will spend about 10 weeks in a small Italian community as yet unnamed as the house guest of a family. Bergman, who finances his college study by working part time in the classified advertising department of The Examiner, entered college at the age of 25 after spending the years since high school studying music in New York City.

George Bergman on Ozawa Departure San Francisco Examiner 1975-07-30. San Francisco Examiner Ozawa departure The resignation of Maestro Seiji Ozawa as music director of San Francisco Symphony brings to mind, if one may be permitted, a blatant analogy — the lesson learned by Pope Julius II in his dealings with Michelangelo: genius must be accommodated. The custodians of the orchestra have long found it difficult to understand the undemocratic truth that in all art the genius must rule as the autocrat. The moment of Vienna’s greatest musical glory was 10 years under the domination of Gustav Mahler. After his dismissal it sank into mediocrity from which it did not recover until decades later when Von Karajon assumed a role similar to Mahler’s. Since the departure of Pierre Monteux our orchestra had indeed known evil days. It began to recover its stature under the late Josef Krips and then had the truly unheard of good fortune to secure the artistic services of Maestro Ozawa who, despite great odds and much opposition, improved enormously the quality and prestige of the orchestra. The great tact with which he is attempting to attenuate the shock of his leaving did not alter the fact that elsewhere his genius is better appreciated . . . And as to his successor, could San Francisco support one of the great egotistical giants of music who could forge the orchestra into the instrument it could and should be? GEORGE BERGMAN San Francisco

I wish I could find out the name(s) of George's partner(s) in New York City, San Francisco, Paris, and Philadelphia. Would he believe that gay marriage was legalized within his sister's lifetime? Did he face violence or arrests because he was gay? Did he join any early pride parades?

I'd heard different things about George's cause of death, so I requested a death certificate, but only immediate family members and direct descendants are allowed to receive a copy, which begs the question—what about decedents without descendants or living immediate family?

B&W George in front of body of water in 50s. A black and white photo shows a white man sitting in front of a body of water. He is looking to the side with a serious expression and has short, dark hair and a cleft chin. He is wearing a short-sleeved, collared, plaid top, a dark wristwatch, and dark slacks.

When I tried to request his transcript from SFSU to identify his major and graduation year, I was told I have to prove I was related. I'm trying to figure out how one does that—apparently a family tree isn't enough.

Thankfully, the SFSU university archivist was very responsive and easily found George's commencement program with his major (Italian) and graduation year (1962) that included a photo.

George Bergman Photo in SFSC 1962 Commencement Program. A black and white photo shows a white man with dark eyes, a cleft chin, and his short, dark hair combed back. He is looking to the side with a pleasant expression and is wearing a dark suit with a white collared shirt and tie with diagonal stripes. A dark spot is on the photo near his nose.

But one thing I keep thinking about was that big parts of his life are likely missing because the family didn't talk openly about George being gay, and he lived far away from family members still alive today.

Bergman, George '76 at GFS. A black and white photo focused on a dark-haired white man with hair to his ears wearing a striped, collared sweater. He is looking down and one hand is visible holding something casually in front of his chest. There are blurry other people around him—one in the foreground with chin-length blond hair, and one right behind him with dark curly hair.

So I started looking up some of George's former students who were named in an article about George's foreign language and performing arts video collection being donated to Germantown Friends School and found two who had talked about George in a Facebook post!

I ended up connecting with former students, a coworker, and the school's archivist, all of whom shared wonderful things! George was fashionable and always wrote with a purple flair pen. He had an “incredibly resonant voice with stylish cadences” (I'm trying to find a recording).

George leaning against car in the 50s. A black and white photo with bushes in the background shows a long white car, probably from the 50s, in the foreground. A tan white man with short, dark hair leans back with his elbow on the car while looking at the camera. He has a cleft chin and wears large, dark sunglasses, a dark, short-sleeved, collared, striped top, and light slacks.

Despite the understood "don't ask, don't tell" attitude at the time, George made a welcoming space for closeted kids and faculty members. He earned respect by having no doubts about himself.

George in sunglasses. A black and white photo shows a white man with short, dark hair combed back. He is standing in front of a large, flowered bush with his hands in his pockets. He is wearing large, dark sunglasses, a short-sleeved, collared, striped, light top with the sleeves rolled up, and light pants with a thin dark belt.

George recognized the school's opera queens and opera-interested and accompanied them, with his mother, to a New York opera and brunch at the World Trade Center restaurant Windows on the World, where he declared that everyone *must* see the amazing bathroom. (Anyone have a pic?)

Marjory and George in the 70s or 80s. A white woman with reddish hair and a thin white man with chin-length brown hair stand in front of a large plant and ruffly lamp, looking at the camera with pleased expressions. The woman, on the left, has red hair, red beads, a red dress, and a red bracelet. One of her arms is behind the man and one hand is held at her hip. The man, on the right, has a dimpled chin and prominent Adam's apple, a dark collared top with shapes on it, and dark slacks. One hand is on the woman's shoulder and the other hands down by his thigh.

Somehow, George was good friends with Coe Glade, a woman who held the world record for performing as Carmen in the opera the most times. He found out a coworker's mom loved opera as well and escorted her a few times, dressed very elegantly.

George in suit, pointing with pen. A black and white photo shows a white man with a strong cleft chin and his short, dark hair combed back. He is wearing a dark suit and tie and sitting with one hand on his knee and his other hand holding a pen to point at something in a book that someone cropped out of the picture is holding.

George played classical musical at "an ear-splitting volume." He showed up to support student songwriters and attended rock concerts with students. He surprised a coworker by telling her all about Pink Floyd.

George in houndstooth in the 70s or 80s. A tan white man with light, ear-length hair, dark eyes, and a cleft chin smiles open-lipped at the camera against a pink background. He is wearing a brown and white houndstooth sport coat over a dark top.

Among George’s favorite movies were It’s a Wonderful Life, Sunset Boulevard, Casablanca, All About Eve, Ninotchka, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Philadelphia Story, The Lion in Winter, Notorious, A Star is Born, Rebecca, The Little Foxes, Wuthering Heights, and Becket.

George organized a celebration of 100 years of recorded sound and played the best recordings—Enrico Caruso, Leopold Stokowski conducting . . . and a song written by student Joshua Newberg, after which he announced, “That of course was Rudolf Schmidt and the Vienna Quintet.”

His extracurricular activities were: “Photography, Piano, Swimming, Theatre, Tape Recording, Concerts, Cinema, the Nations of the World.” He put on Romeo and Juliet with his French students and Frenchified everyone's names in the program. Thank you, GFS archivist!

Roméo et Juliette '77. A handwritten program that says, Roméo et Juliette '77 en Français Lette Tragédie Sera Présentée par Les Éleves de French IV. Unique Représentation Jeudi, 26 Mai 1977 à 20: Hres. Salle Yarnall Germantown Friends School 31 West Coulter Street Philadelphia, PA 19144

He put himself in positions where he could support people who needed support and had an instinct for what people needed to hear. He accepted a very out-of-character role in a play for a shy kid directing it and told a visiting graduate, “You have evolved” (in French).

George Bergman in The Brig at GFS in 1977. A black and white photo shows people on a stage with a brick background. Towards the back, five men are lined up in front of cots as if at attention. They are wearing white shirts with dark, loose-fitting jackets and dark pants. A thin white man with light, ear-length hair stands in the middle wearing a light collared top and light slacks. His elbows are at his sides and his hands touch over his ribs while he faces the people who are lined up. Another man in the foreground holds his hands up as if explaining something. His hair is brown and curly and he's wearing flared jeans and a light sweater.

When George died, people at the school said he'd died of cancer without mentioning George having AIDS, and they said it was to protect his mother. I think that with how close George and his mother were, she probably knew he was gay and that he had AIDS.

Student David Dunn Bauer said, "George was glamorous, and we as a Quaker school were not, but George treated us as if we were. If we’d been in NYC, he'd have worn a full-length mink and it would have been fabulous. I graduated in 1977, and every one of these memories of George is vivid. George does not fade."

George at Grand Canyon. A thin white man looking at the camera with a serious expression sits on a rock wall at what appears to be the Grand Canyon. He has short, dark hair, a striped boat neck top, a dark belt with a silver buckle, a black wristwatch, form-fitting jeans, and he is wearing large, translucent sunglasses.

George's friends at GFS made a quilt square for the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt in honor of George. It didn't take me long to find it, and I was surprised to recognize it as soon as I saw it. That cleft chin is unmistakable.

AIDS Memorial Quilt Square for George. A purple rectangle with 'George' in pink cursive on the right, angled up to the top right corner. On the left is a white block print bust of a man with short hair and a shadow on his chin that indicates a cleft chin. He is looking to the right side of the rectangle with a closed-lipped smile.

Happy Birthday George Cake. A tan white man with short hair, a dimpled chin, a navy top, and a wristwatch looks at the camera while holding a round white cake that says, 'Happy Birthday George.' In the background is a window with tan curtains, something hanging from the ceiling in macramé, a plant, and an unidentifiable object.

What a gift to learn all these things about George so I have a clearer picture of him on his birthday! I'm also writing about my Grandma's life and love and learning more about her when we chat once per week.

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