1958 Brussels

My memories of Brussels (or Bruxelles) are from around 1958.  My grandmother Frieda was with us.  She was very elegant and sophisticated.  I always knew that secretly she was Princess Anastasia of the Russian Empire.  We (my parents, my sister, Frieda, and me) stayed in a wonderful hotel on La Grande Place.  

La Grande Place, Bruxelles

Because it was a weekend, they only had one room, a small one with two beds.  We had no choice, so we took it.  They brought us extra linens, pillows, and blankets and we made Frieda a bed in the bathtub.  I wanted to sleep in the bathtub but they said no.  I ended up sleeping with my dad and my sister slept with my mother.   I would have fit perfectly.  Unfortunately, Frieda was a good sport about it and told the story for years.  The image of Frieda, with her diamonds and veils, sleeping in a bathtub was something no one could have imagined.

I woke up the next day before dawn because it seeeds busy outside.  When I looked out the window I saw an amazing sight below.  The entire square was full of people and lights and flowers.  I will never forget it.  It was magical.  I stayed at the window until the sun came up and the others woke up and broke the spell.

Flowers in La Grande Place

We didn't realize it at the time, but every weekend there was a fantastic flower show in La Grande Place.

1955 Coronet

My grandmother's name was Frieda but she liked to be called Lorelei.  She was like no one else I have ever met.  She and I were close.  I was the first child of her first child.  

Frieda had not had it come easy and she had built a small greeting card business into a one-of-a-kind antique shop called Coronet.  It was on Beacon Street.

Busy Bee and where Coronet was to the left

Pelham Hall

One of my great treats when we would return from overseas, would be to go spend a few days with Frieda, just the two of us.  She lived in a studio in a building called Pelham Hall.
Her place was very small but it was full of antiques and special things.  She always said if something means something to you, have it where you can see and touch it.  I follow that principle to this day.  She had a Murphy bed in her living room, and a tiny little kitchen.  

Pelham Hall

Pelham Hall

We would come in to the lobby and call the elevator.  There was an attendant but he always let me push the buttons.  Usually, we would have had dinner after leaving Coronet, but before bed, while we watched the news, I always had a bowl of Cheerios and milk.  Then we would sleep in the Murphy bed.  The next morning, I would have my Cheerios again, and we would take the streetcar to Coronet, which wasn't far at all.  

Streetcar

Usually, I would spent the day with her at Coronet.  At lunchtime, I would go next door to The Busy Bee (which is still there) and bring back lunch.  

The Busy Bee

Sometimes if the weather was nice and the Red Sox were playing a night game, we would take the streetcar to Fenway Park and listen to the crowd, hoping a ball would get hit over the Green Monster onto Lansdowne Street.

Brookline

Coronet was very small and filled to the ceiling with antiques.  One of the things I remember best was a ceramic garden stool dating back to one of the Chinese dynasties.  I was the only one ever allowed to sit on it. 

Chinese Garden Seat

Rose Medallion

She had incredible jewelry; diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, rubies, pearls, gold, platinum, everything, all antique.  The walls were covered with shelves floor to ceiling, and every shelf was packed with unique treasures.  I don't know where she got them, but they were incredible.  

I learned a lot about silver, and porcelain, and jewelry.  I remember exactly what Rose Medallion dishes look like.  She would lock me in the tiny bathroom where she had a small safe, and I would take out all the money and play with it.  We would go to the bank every day and into the vault.  That's where she kept a lot of cash, as well as some items that she wanted to keep out of the shop.  

I remember when I was about 8 or 9, she commissioned me to make a doorstop for Coronet.  I got a brick from my Uncle Abbey and painted it white.  Then I painted a gold crown on each side, with a gold rim on all the edges.  She kept that doorstop until she sold Coronet when she married Irving, many years later.  That means the world to me.  

Some of her clients were the Mayor of Boston, as well as both the DiMaggio brothers.  The shop became a destination.  I was the only who really experienced it; my sister and my cousins were too young, and by the time they were old enough, they had no interest.  

I still have a few things she gave me, miscellaneous things like a little plaster dog my mother chewed on as a baby, a small metal box with an enamel plaque on the top, and a platinum mesh bracelet with a buckle of sapphires, my birthstone.  I also have a silver dollar from 1989 that she gave me.