I recently sent an email to Mosette. I found her with a search in Google. After all, how many Mosette Glasers can there be?

We met in high school. Her sister, Miriam, was my closest friend, but like so many others, we drifted apart - not for any conflict - it was more about geography and vastly different journeys. Knox was a very very small school. Most students were boarders. Miriam and I were dayhops - on the fringe.

I adored Miriam. We were total sillies together. She lived on Centre Island on Long Island in a rambling ancient mansion of Gold Coast pedigree and quality. I spent much of my teen years at this home. I loved being there. It was a home built on a foundation of civility, faith, kindness, sweetness, love, courtesy, respect, and academia. I repeat, I loved being there.

I wrote Mosette to inquire about Miriam. In my email I yakked about my time spent on Centre Island and observed that the *room* I best remembered was the large walk-in pantry. Isn't that odd - that I remembered the pantry best? I have no recall of Miriam's bedroom where we probably hung out the most. I remember the pantry! I self-analyze the nurture it might have represented - as well as the luxury.

Mr. Glaser was Orthodox Jew. Mrs. Glaser a cradle Roman Catholic. Every inch of the home reflected Mr. Glaser's faith, which I now assume Mrs. Glaser embraced with love and deference.

Miriam's parents were the parents every kid would want. Her father was quiet and reflective. He was my idea of what wisdom looks like. I believe Miriam was born when her mother was in her 40s - so she seemed ancient to me, but so very sweet sweet sweet! Don't get me wrong - I loved my parents and wanted my parents to be my parents, but there was something about the Glaser's home that crept into my heart and grew with yearning. The feeling never left me. I would always remember them with such great fondness.

I remember her father sitting in the library with other men - all wearing yarmulkes - murmuring prayers or perhaps quiet study? I was just a kid - what did I know as our giggles crashed through the house to momentarily ruffle decorum.

Friday evenings were inspiring. Passages were read with intonations infused with history. Melodic prayers were beautiful, reverent - hypnotic. There was ritual and tradition and honor in their home - all of which represented stability for me. I saw only the anchor that I yearned for - while Miriam ceaselessly squirmed to be set free. I never understood because I was so drawn to the passion and dedication and civility and comfort and responsibility that bound their home with hallowed history.

I adored Miriam. She was irresponsible in all harmless ways. She was so carefree and full of laughter and whimsy and utter disregard for convention. Despite her fanciful ways, which must have driven her parents mad, I don't recall her ever saying or doing anything unkind. Life was a huge party! Every day was Saturday! Let the tortoise win! Let the ant toil! She sped through life like the hare and played like the grasshopper. She had a destination... and the destination was non-stop, nutty fun! She was all *je ne sais quoi*. Let them eat cake because there's enough for everyone! Life's a party! Come play with me!

I learned this week that Miriam died in 1977. She died about 12 years after the last time I saw her.

Hindsight, it was all predictable. I knew her time would be abbreviated - that no one could burn that bright for very long. I just knew. I thought back to my own life in 1977. I had two children and living in Fairway, KS. How drab and ordinary that sounds. How blessed I was.

Mosette's email filled me with impossible sadness.

Miriam has been dead for 37 years yet as far as my heart is concerned, it happened yesterday and I mourn this childhood friend of mine - my silly companion whose contrail took me to heights of hilarious hilarity. It was all so dizzy and harmless. I knew it had to end. She didn't. I knew we were on the cusp of change. She didn't.

Time can become so fractured. A heart, too.



I love this photo of Miriam. We'd just had lunch - some fabulous shoreline restaurant that was way beyond my budget. This photo is so *her* as she flung her arm out as though the whole world was hers... and it was, ever so briefly.



She was so beautiful, wasn't she?




My high school senior photo

*****

Below is information I found on Mosette. Quite impressive. She's considered a preeminent scholar on NYC's architecture. I recently listened to her NYU Lecture on the Square - a highly regarded series. I also ordered her book:

Triumvirate: McKim, Mead & White: Art, Architecture, Scandal, and Class in America's Gilded Age

Professor Mosette Broderick
Director, Urban Design and Architecture Studies
Director, MA in Historical and Sustainable Architecture, London
Director, Urban Design in London Summer program
Faculty Fellow in Residence, Third North
New York University
College of Arts and Science
Department of Art History &
Urban Design and Architecture Studies