~Sol Baer Fielding, October 15, 1908 – September 1, 1992~
By now, if you’ve been with me for more than a couple of posts, you’ve probably heard quite a bit about the Mayer side of my family — Louis B. Mayer, Ida, Mitzi and so on. But I haven’t shared as much about my grandfather Sol Baer Fielding, although you may also know that he produced a few films, including Harry Belafonte’s first movie Bright Road (1953).
My grandfather, who was born Solomon Baer Fingerman in New York City (he later changed his name), not long after the family emigrated from Russia, died on September 1st 1992. Today is September 1st in Australia so as per the Jewish tradition of marking the anniversary of a loved one’s death, ‘yahrzeit,’ I will light a candle in his memory.
But to be honest, I think of my Popa Sol most days. He taught me so much, from the joy of raw red onion on burgers and breaking out into song now and again, to the importance of integrity and dignity. He instilled in me a love for Judaism and a deep hope for the State of Israel (the only time I ever saw him angry was when we were approached in a parking lot by a man wearing a ‘Jews for Jesus’ t-shirt).
Popa also showed me unconditional love, the kind that every child — every person — should experience.
I find it hard to believe it has been 25 years since his passing. I can remember our very last day together, watching him gently hold his only great-grandchild, my baby daughter. And while we laughed with joy we both knew we would never see each other again. Popa was dying of cancer and the next day my husband, baby and I would fly back to Australia.
Two or three months later my mother phoned to tell me he had passed. One should live regret-free, this is true, but it seems the only regrets I have relate to my grandparents, especially my Popa…
I am so grateful to have that remarkable photo of Popa as a very young boy with his angelic sister Esther and his older brother Samuel in their father’s tailoring shop in Denver, Colorado. When my children were little I brought out this photo and asked them to point out the telephone in the room. I saw them search the cutting table for something resembling a cellphone. It cracked me up to point to the huge telephone fixed to the wall, practically as big as the children.
The photo next to it shows the same three siblings in the early 1960s, only uncle Sam is the shorter one now — my grandfather was 6′ 1″. Samuel became an engineer, and as far as I know, spent the majority of his career working on major infrastructure projects in Colorado. Esther moved to Los Angeles and married a piano tuner. She later worked for many years as the much loved and trusted EA to the head of Universal. It was a huge shock when she died of an aneurysm while visiting New Mexico. Neither Sam or Esther had their own children, although Sam’s wonderful second wife Sarah, whom I loved, had two sons.
Sol and Esther loved each other’s company. When I visited Los Angeles as a kid my favorite times were with the two of them. They were loving and funny and I felt like the only kid on the planet when I was with them.
My grandfather was a hugely talented fine artist and really wasn’t cut out for the movie biz. I so wish he could’ve spent his days immersed in his art. I hope that’s what he’s doing up in heaven…
Love you, Popa, with all my heart
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