Morgenthaler Family & Friends

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Arrangement Administrative History Conditions Governing Access Conditions Governing Use Acquisition Preferred Citation Processing Information Processing Information Processing Information ONE Scope and Contents Note on Included Artists Separated Materials note Title: Orlando Gallery records Identifier/Call Number: Coll2013.038 Contributing Institution: ONE National Gay & Lesbian Archives, USC Libraries, University of Southern California Language of Material: English Physical Description: 13.0 linear feet. 8 archive boxes + 2 archive cartons + 1 flat archive box. Date (bulk): Bulk, 1985-1999 Date (inclusive): 1947-2010 Abstract: Gallery ephemera and administrative records; photographs, slides, transparencies and negatives of installations, exhibition openings and art works; publicity releases; newspaper and journal article clippings; and a limited amount of art, mail art, correspondence, and other materials from the Orlando Gallery. The gal...

A Sacred Time The Mother lies dying Surrounded much of her waking hours By loving family; two caregivers or more. She may pass any day; It may happen months from now. It is wondrous and awful. Meanwhile, in the town where the boys Grew up, La La Land, maker Of bold dreams and great Nuclear Power Plants, The Father went to the ICU And died on the gurney Waiting to be told there was nothing Anyone could do for him anymore. He was 97 and a half joined by wife and son; Peaceful ending, really. Living on borrowed time many years. The extended family is called on the phone; Immediate family gathered at the Mom’s house To eat an odd assortment of snacks we’ll refer To as Wake Dinner And hug and cry a little and talk much, Mostly of what we are now about. What are fond memories held of Dad? First ride in a small airplane at nineteen for Pat, a plane that did loop the loops! Swept away by this handsome dude/engineer Who she stuck by 32 years, designed, built And ran The Home, filled with baked...

Remembering one who brought so much beauty to the world With Deepest Sympathy Dear Wayne, Well, my heart is broken. Pat was such a shining light and so much fun, that every moment with her was an occasion. She was also my Mom’s dearest friend and the last link to all my happy memories of the days in La Habra and Fullerton. I remember walking into the beautiful house on Hermosa Drive and seeing an endless array of Pat’s delectable hors d’ouvres, set out on tiered serving dishes, all different, beautiful and delicious. Those would be followed by a fabulous main course, and then another stunning display of desserts…tiny eclairs, petit fours, iced cookies, Napoleons – all hand-made by Pat. She was an artist in everything she did. She wasn’t just an incredible entertainer, she was a dear friend and as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She was such a comfort when my Mom died. I can’t believe I’ll never hear her voice or laugh again. Mom and I both missed her terribly whe...

Dear Wayne, I’ve just received an email from my sister, Micky Platzek, that your mother and father both passed away this month – please accept my sincerely condolences on this sad news. I am so sorry for you and the rest of your family – it’s painful at first but time passes and we’ll all come to terms. I remember fondly going to your home in Fullerton for family get togethers – I was always fascinated by your mother’s artwork, graciousness, and effortless hosting- she was so beautiful – inside and out. I was always the tomboy in our family, and somewhat brushed aside – I think your mother sense this, and one day we were standing in her kitchen (I was about 9 or 10) – she took my chin in her hand and said “look at those beautiful blue eyes.” Having never received anything remotely like a compliment from my own family, you can imagine how thrilled I was – her gesture of kindness lasted me a lifetime. I am in Los Angeles and have been practicing law for nearly 30 years – working part-t...

Death is nothing at all (Sent by Dick May, Dec 22, 2014 and read at burial) Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I a...