Dear Elisa,

Becoming a grandmother caused me to reflect on the other grandmothers in our family, including my mother's mother, Maria Ynez Shorb White Buck. Grandmother Ynez was descended from a very old Southern California family. The first of her ancestors arrived in California in 1769; the King of Spain ultimately awarded the family the only land grant in Orange County. The Shorb estate, where my grandmother grew up, was located in San Marino, California, and is currently the site of the Huntington Library. Ynez's grandfather, Benjamin D. "Don Benito" Wilson was the first County Clerk of Los Angeles and the first Mayor of the City of Los Angeles, elected in 1851. Her father, James de Barth Shorb, was elected Los Angeles County Treasurer in 1892. My great-g reat-grandfather and great-grandfather are the earliest recorded politicians in our family.

My grandmother was a lovely woman. Taller and slightly heavier than my mother, she wore her dark hair in the style of the day. I enjoyed watching her comb her hair in a pompadour puffed up with a "rat." Her eyebrows were thick and bushy. Perhaps th at is why my mother plucked her own eyebrows down to a thin line.

My brother Tommy and I traveled by train from New York to spend a month each summer visiting our grandparents in Denver. Grandmother and Granddaddy Buck, the commanding officer at Fitzsimmons Army Hospital in Denver, lead a formal life. As the Comman dant's wife, Grandmother held regular visiting days on Wednesdays for the ladies to come calling; on the front hall table rested a tray for calling cards.

One summer in the 1930's Granddaddy Buck, my father, Tommy and I toured the West. Granddaddy drove his dark, dull green Packard on the trip. Granddaddy attached a swamp cooler to the window. We carried water for the cooler in a canvas bag that hung on the front of the car. We visited Boulder Dam, Las Vegas, Yellowstone, and Yosemite, staying overnight in cabins along the way. We also stopped at military hospitals along the way, including at the Presidio in San Francisco where we stayed in visitor' s quarters. Granddaddy was well known at Letterman Hospital there, so we were well received.

My mother was born in Southern California in 1896 to Stephen Stuart White and Maria Ynez Shorb. Like her mother, she was named Maria Ynez. They called her "Ynezita," which means "Little Ynez." For most of her life, her name was shortened to simply " Cita."

Cita was 5 feet 4 inches, never overweight in my memory. She kept her naturally curly hair short but hated gray hair, so she dyed it almost black. Her eyes were like shoe buttons, so black that you could not see the edge of her pupils. An active per son, she was involved in many community organizations. In fact, on the day she had the stroke that ultimately killed her, she was dressed for volunteering.

Mother volunteered during her whole life for the Red Cross. Like many Red Cross volunteers, she performed the odd jobs that needed to be done, such as driving people to medical appointments, assisting in the office, working on the blood drives and help ing to raise money. She also volunteered for the Community Chest, helping to raise money, and knitted items for "Bundles for Britain" before America entered World War II.

My mother never discussed politics or public policy, but my parents were both Democrats. They were not active in the party per se, but rather socialized with the Albany politicians because my father was an appointed state employee, serving in a Democra t administration. Albany, the state capitol, was a Democrat stronghold. The O'Connell family controlled things from behind the scenes and were friends of my parents.

We frequented functions in the gubernatorial administrations of Alfred E. Smith (1923-1928), Franklin D. Roosevelt (1929-1932), and Herbert H. Lehman (1933-1942). We even attended parties, like the Easter Egg Hunt at the Governor's Mansion during Fran klin Roosevelt's administration, and met FDR's children who were older than I. I must have commented once on Eleanor Roosevelt's high pitched, grating voice. I recall my mother saying, "Well dear, you know the reason her voice sounds like that is becaus e she is hard of hearing."

My mother's family lead a formal, gracious life with household help and linen tablecloths and napkins on the table every night for dinner. My mother and grandmother were refined women who felt that they should contribute something back to society and their communities. They believed that you should contribute to society to justify your existence.

Love,
Grandmommy
(Barbara F. Vucanovich)