Friday, April 9, 2010

From my Chronicle of the Family: The Sonntags





Maximo Sonntag (1881-1949)

Of my father’s family, I know of only one immigrant, and that was his own father, Max, or Maximo, Sonntag. I remember my grandfather quite well, having seen him on a few occasions before his death, which occurred on April 28, 1949, on the eve of what was to be another one of his great trips to Europe. My grandfather was born on November 8, 1881, in the small town of Torgau, on the River Elbe, in Saxony. His family was from the even more diminutive town of Gross Osterhausen, at the foot of the Harz Mountains in Saxony, just a few miles south of Eisleben, where Martin Luther was born and died. It is said that Maximo’s father, my great-grandfather, migrated from the farm lands to the city of Leipzig where he eventually became a well-known tramway conductor. Or perhaps he became the head of all tramway conductors in the city, for when he died, it is said that all the tramways in Leipzig were stopped for a few minutes, in his honor. But some of his relatives remained on the farm, because my father visited with them in 1937, on the occasion of a family visit to Germany. Eventually, all these Saxon Sonntags moved to Leipzig, and the family land must have been alienated some time after the Second World War. Gross Osterhausen was within the Communist state of the Deutsche Demokratische Republik.

My father often spoke of his relatives in Gross Osterhausen with a sort of loving irony. I think he was bemused at having authentic peasants for ancestors. He described the farm as a series of large buildings on a plot that was no larger than the average Los Angeles suburban back-yard. I assume he was exaggerating as to its smallness. The buildings were typical German farm structures, as evidenced in the following photograph:
Sonntags at the farm in Gross Osterhausen (probably the 1937 visit?): My grandmother Berta is second from the left, and my tia Gerda is right next to her on the left. I don’t recognize the others.
An earlier occasion in Gross Osterhausen (date unknown): Berta is second from right in the back, tia Gerda in the front center and, next to her on her right, my father being held by my uncle Max, his older brother.

But to return to the story, and hence to the nineteenth century, in Leipzig, my grandfather must have trained in business and perhaps come to be noticed by the brothers Berger of Bingen, a small town in the Rhineland, in the valley of the Mosel. The Bergers owned a successful import-export business in printing supplies, a firm with international connections. The house of Curt Berger had a branch in Buenos Aires, and some time in the early years of the twentieth century, perhaps 1905, my grandfather was assigned to that post. If 1905 is the precise date of his arrival, and I do not know this for certain, then he was in his mid-twenties when he began his new life in Buenos Aires. He did not know a word of Spanish, and he arrived in a ship with little on him of any value.
I have unfortunately very little information about the early life of my grandfather in Buenos Aires. I have heard that he worked very hard in the firm, and that he would come home and put his bare feet in a pan of ice-cold water so as to stay awake and study for the Argentine naturalization examination. Eventually, he became a citizen and he learned to speak Spanish fluently. His story is one of relentless business success, as he worked his way to the board of directors of the company by the time he was in his forties. He lived in a modest house in the remote suburb of Jose C. Paz, north-west of the city, but in the 1940’s, he had it remodeled, and it became the large, elegant house that I knew as a boy. It was a very large landscaped estate, with a large garden, broad avenues, fish ponds, an old fashioned swimming pool, tall trees and flower beds everywhere.

The Wessels

But I’m getting ahead of the story. Maximo married Berta Wessel, my grandmother, in Buenos Aires, on January 25, 1909. My uncle Maximo (tio Bummel) was born a year later, on December 27, 1910. Berta Auguste Wessel was born on September 4, 1886 in Buenos Aires. I know even less about her family history than his, but I will leave her own personal history for later, as I am here concerned exclusively with the immigrants.

Berta Auguste Wessel de Sonntag in Mar del Plata (late 1950’s).

Berta’ father was Cesario Wessel, an engineer, lecturer, and secretary at the University of Buenos Aires, reputed to have translated into Spanish a book by Richard Napp Zinn, a relative on his wife’s side, entitled Die Argentinische Republik. He was born in the Province of Entre Rios, in the city of Concepcion del Uruguay, on December 25, 1856. I have no information on his parents or what part of Germany they came from. My father told me that visiting his home in Buenos Aires was always a gloomy experience, as it was a cold and damp house.

Cesario Wessel was married twice, and both his wives were sisters from an old Rhineland family. The first wife was Magdalene Johanna Amalie Martha Napp, born in Hamburg on January 22, 1863, in the eastern suburb of St. Pauli. She married Cesario in Buenos Aires on October 25, 1884, and their first child, also named Cesario (the old tio Cesario) was born a year later, on August 23, 1885, and my grandmother Berta on September 4, 1886. Magdalene died on July 4, 1921 in Buenos Aires.


Cesario Wessel and Tante Molly (date unknown)

Tante Molly then became Cesario’s second wife, and she was alive in my lifetime and I knew her well. Her name was Amalie (Mali, or Molly) Margarethe Napp, and she was born in Hoboken, New Jersey, on June 18, 1874. She married Cesario after her sister’s death on December 12, 1923. Her marriage was childless.

Why was Tante Molly born in Hoboken? Tante Molly had an interesting family. Her father, Felix Jacob Napp, was a sailor and eventually a sea captain from the port of St. Pauli in Hamburg. He was born on December 17, 1833. He was living in Hoboken, New Jersey, when Tante Molly was born in 1874. I recall my father telling me that this man had died in Brooklyn, when he fell from the docks and was crushed by a ship there. In any case, his violent ending and obscure destiny belie his origins, which were solid bourgeois, from an old middle-class and well-educated family rooted since time immemorial in the beautiful Rhineland town of St. Goarshausen.

St. Goarshauen on the Rhine

My grandmother, Berta Wessel, was the first child of Cesario and his first wife Magdalene, and she is reputed to have been the de facto mother of all those children during the course of her early life, as her mother was in some way incapacitated. I have little evidence for this, and am ignorant of the reasons for it, but if it is true, it would account for my grandmother’s strongly totalitarian personality. There were quite a few Wessels, but I only knew my grandmother and her younger sister, Tante Juanita, (Johanna Juliane Wessel, 1889-1969) who was a delightful woman and married to one of the Hasenbalgs, the family of my brother-in-law, Rodolfo Grigera.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Long time....

It seems nothing is the same since you've been gone. Spring is here and it's beautiful in Southern California. The air is warm and the trees are budding, the flowers bloom like crazy this year because we've had a ton of rain. But, there is still an emptiness inside. We've not only lost you, Dad, but less than a year later, Fred died and then last July Alec took his own life. Just a series of very sad, very traumatic events. I went to Mass tonight to see if God would give me some strength to deal with the void from losing all of you. I know he is with me all the time, but I still feel very alone.
Miss you, Dad....

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Message from Chris

My Dear Grandpa, I will begin by saying I love you and miss you so very much, and wish we had lived closer so we could've had more time to spend together.
I feel so blessed to have the wonderful memories of you that I do. I remember so many times when I was a little girl, going to visit you on Los Alamos, and then at your apartment, and thinking that when I grow up, I wanted to have an apartment just like you had. I have always appreciated your sense of style, and your incredible abilities in design. When I watched you on TV, the Designers Challenge, I was so proud of you, and just to see you there, meant so much to me, and now I can watch it & still see you!! (By the way, even if I didn't know whose design was whose, I would've chose yours!) Without ever really knowing, we have the same taste in decor; I would've loved to have you design my house just like that!! You were a very big part of my life in so many ways, that when I heard you had passed away, I was just so devostated; I just couldn't believe it! For some reason, I always just felt like you'd be here forever! Daddy said you were "The last of the Golden Eggs". He was so completely destroyed when you left us. On Christmas Day, 2007, I called Daddy and what he wanted for Christmas was to see his daughter, so I went out to see him, and for the first 20 minutes, we just held each other and cried. I have never in my life seen my Daddy so sad! He cried so hard! Things will never be the same without you! He loved you more than life itself, Grandpa, and you meant so much to him...it was almost like you were the reason for him living. When Daddy passed away, I knew he'd be seeing you, Elo, Ela, and others already in heaven, which would be comforting for him. I pray every day that he is in heaven with you, and you are both at peace. Life on earth isn't always what it's cracked up to be, and I pray that heaven is. You are so missed every day, by so many!
I love you and miss you more than words could ever express.
Your Granddaughter,
Christina

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Not the date...

I have thought about you every day, and yesterday, of course, I thought of you. I told Gina that I feel you are a big part of my life, still, and it's not just the date that brings you to mind. Of course, it's hard to believe a year has gone by. Mostly because I have been so inspired by you. And yet, somehow my plans remain unfulfilled. I hope you are not disappointed. But I have a feeling you would not have felt that way, if you were here to talk to me about it.

I wish I could have gone to Mass with Mom and Paul last night. Oh well, I guess we all remember in our own way. I know that Berto has his own way of remembering. He would never post to this blog. Each of us holds you in his/her heart.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Difficult day for me

Well, I guess I am the only person still posting on this blog. Today, it's been a year since you left us and it still seems unreal. I've thought of you hundreds of times over this past year. At family gatherings, at birthdays, on Father's Day, in Italy and Paris, at home, in Church, everywhere, really. I still want to pick up the phone and call you to find out how you are. I realize I can't do that, then I wonder who is living in your lovely apartment in Santa Monica. I'm sure it's not the same anymore. No classical music, no beautiful paintings, no books.... We all have bits and pieces of your life in our homes, it's a small comfort. I have regrets about not seeing you more often, not helping you more when I could have, not taking you to the doctor's myself so I could find out how to care for you. Most of the time I feel you just wanted to be alone till the end and not bother anyone. You were never a bother, Dad. Felicia, Erika and Matt all miss you too. They often speak of you and feel privileged to have known you during the time they were growing up. And now Fred is gone too. Maybe you two are having a scotch today. Please think of us, down here, dealing with all the drudgery of every day life. Always working, paying bills, hassling with traffic... it's a real riot down here. Ha ha ha.

Well, Paul and I are going to Mass later. I guess it's a comfort for us to pray that you are happy in heaven, with God, and your parents and Fred, and many others you've known in your life.

I miss you, Dad. I know I always will and the 9th of December will always be hard for me.

love, illie

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Bella Italia

Wow, what an experience and what a glorious country! I thought of you every day, Dad. Especially in Venice and Florence. I know that you walked those same streets and piazzas. I felt your presence at the museums while I marveled at the works of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Bernini, Giotto and many others. I wish I could talk to you now that I've returned and discuss with you how marvelous these cities are. I know that you can feel my spirit and I wanted to thank you for introducing me to the art, architecture and culture of those fabulous cities. Erika took my photo on the piazza San Marco in Venice and I remembered Omama. There are so many more people there now than when she was photographed. Erika and I drank many a toast to you and your loving soul. I still miss you very much and I know that no matter how much time passes, I will continue to miss you. Much love while you wait for there rest of us. illie

Monday, June 30, 2008

Freddo, Elo and Ela, and all the others

Alec always says that he's going to Heaven to see Elo and Ela. There were times in the past when I chuckled over his vision of heaven. But actually if I'm honest, I admit I believe in the afterlife. I don't believe there's a place called "Heaven" which exists somewhere in spatio-temporal reality. After all, if that were the case then we'd be able to find it. I think when people die they leave behind spatio-temporal reality. Become energy or some other spiritual form. But certainly the soul, whatever it is, continues to exist. I believe this to be true.

Ever since you've been gone Grandpa, my life has changed in incredible ways. When you left it made me re-think everything. But now Freddo is gone too. Honestly I am not handling it well. I'm pretty darn moody, which is unlike me. I'm going through so many moods I don't recognize myself right now. My mood can change in a split second.

I think that I'm starting to like Alec's idea. It makes me imagine... I'm hoping that you and Freddo are up there in Heaven, together. You're having a scotch and he's having a beer, and you're telling each other dirty jokes. Maybe you're looking down on all of us and you're laughing and you're smiling and you're wishing we knew how little it all matters. You're wishing you could tell us all to "get over it!" Or maybe you are having too much fun to pay attention to any of us down here! Maybe leaving this reality behind was a huge relief for you both. Maybe Elo and Ela are there, and all the others, and you're having one big party around a big, wide, blue swimming pool in Heaven.

Monday, June 23, 2008

June 2008

Today when I opened the front door to get my newspaper, which is usually near the door, I found your old FIDM bag that Paul is using to bring your mail over. It's been over a month since Paul brought any mail for you, so I thought it was winding down, but I was wrong. The bag was totally full and heavy, several magazines had arrived I guess, including the Interior Design Magazine and two issues of National Geographic. There were so many solicitations for money. I still marvel at how many people and organizations you must have sent checks to that they are still asking month after endless month for more. You were such a generous man, almost to a fault, since in your last years you had so little money. Only 3 requests for payment for old accounts. One to the estate. I promptly wrote across that letter that there is no estate. They don't listen to me.....
I wanted to write here on Father's Day, but I guess it was too emotional a day for me. I remembered how last year on Father's Day Felicia and I took you to lunch in Santa Monica. How hard it was to find parking because they were having some type of fair or something. I remember how Felicia waited with you by the sidewalk while I went to get the car. We had a nice lunch and good conversation, as always. I wonder what happened to those two new golf shirts I bought you? I guess Fred must have taken them along with all the other clothes. Weird !!
Well, Dad. Tons of reminders of you every day exist in my life. I keep wondering why I work in the field I do when I couldn't even help you in your last years. I also wish I had followed your career path in Interior Design, which is much more fun. I am watching Design Star these days on HGTV and I'm jealous of those young people. I question the choices I've made in my life. And here, soon, it will be my birthday again....
I miss you. :-) illie

Friday, May 23, 2008

Tell us a story about German Sonntag.

This blog was meant to be a place for friends and family to share their memories. I am hoping that someone will share a story about my grandfather. I sure would love to read it and others would too.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Dad

This afternoon I really miss Dad. For unknown reasons, he is in my thoughts. I wanted to write down some adjectives I think of when I think of Dad.
Thoughtful, caring, loving, generous, kind, non-judgmental, artistic, creative, peaceful, happy, fun, appreciative, intelligent, independent, and always in my heart.
Life is not the same without him......

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

What was something German taught you that no one else could?

Open question to readers of this blog.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Today I miss him more than usual

Today I *miss* my grandfather.

I have been missing him for months but today it's hitting me hard.

I would like so much if I could travel back in time and talk to him. I think he was the only person in the world, literally, who would've been able to understand how I feel at this moment. It makes it especially hard, now that I realize what he and I had in common. Why didn't I ever think about it before? Was I too young when he was still young enough to talk to? I guess I was. I thought of him as Grandpa and now I really want to talk to German. Damn. Damn!

I am angry, too! I will admit it. I am angry that you're gone. I suppose that is part of the stages of grieving. Or some such pop psychology b.s.

Thank G-d for the blog, it's the only outlet.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Time keeps moving on....

Tonight I talked to Mary. She is getting over the flu. Me too. I got the flu this year and I'm not sure why. I guess some years it's our turn to get a bug. I'm feeling better. Mary and I will probably get together next week when I travel to Pasadena to see Felicia. I have all those pictures you saved from your trip with her and Vance and Maureen to give her. She was happy that I called, I think. We both miss you so much, Dad. Work and life keeps us busy, but we never forget how much you meant to us and what a large part of our lives you were. Love you. :-)

Thursday, March 27, 2008

FIDM and their library

I received a wonderful letter the other day from the Director of the Library at FIDM, Los Angeles. They have placed all your books that were donated by Bert (and John Crosse) in the library for use by the students. It's wonderful. I will be going soon to check it out. I decided to scan the letter and post it here for all to read.
Still thinking of you often, Dad and wish you were here to chat with me. Love, illie

Monday, March 17, 2008

"Knowing" Dad

Felicia, I think you knew your grandfather quite well. He was private about many of his feelings, but he also let people know his fun side, his intellectual side, his professional side, his loving side. Many of his children didn't and maybe still don't feel he loved them. I disagree. Dad loved all of us very much, he just didn't show it all the time. He had unconditional love for his kids, and that is the best kind.
I, myself, really appreciate this blog for Dad and I hope you never decide to delete it. I like to check on it weekly and see if there are any posts. I don't know why people don't post, maybe they forget, or maybe they don't like to write much. Maybe they have nothing to say. I don't feel that a blog is unaristocratic. And who are these aristocrats that are being critical? Who's an aristocrat these days? besides the Rockerfellers? Whatever.....
Dad would be so against such a judgment!
Well, schlunk.... I have to get back to work! Miss you, Dad. :-)

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Important Realization

This morning I did a lot of writing. A LOT. For some reason today was the day that everything, all my insights and experiences of the past year (2007) came together and made sense and cohered. So I wrote a lot. I always write on the weekends, but today I wrote a miniature book. I think I have enough material to expand it into a full book. And because I am on a roll, and because so much of it had to do with you, Grandpa, I am now writing a blogger entry about it. And I thought, Should I continue to write to this blog? This blog that only a few people are following? This blog that was probably mostly for me, from the beginning? This blog that was supposed to be a place for family to write about you? This blog that is probably watched by more people in Argentina than by people in my own country? Then I thought, Why not?
So here's the thing I realized about you this morning, Grandpa. Actually, more than one thing. 1. I realized that you were not someone who needed to be public about who you were. I was thinking about how little I knew you during your life, and how I feel that I have learned all about you only since you passed away. I have been feeling bad about that, wishing I had talked with you more when you were alive. I'm not saying I didn't know you at all, but there were so many things I didn't know about you. I knew you in only one way, I guess. When there was so much more to you that I didn't know at all. But today I realized that you were not one who needed people to know everything. You were not in the habit of publicizing yourself, publicly "declaring" who you were, everything you thought about, your "beliefs." You kept a lot of it private, and you felt no need to make a "statement" about yourself for all and sundry. So, this means, I realized, that you and I are O.K. It's ok that I didn't know everything about you when you were alive, because you didn't need that. You were alright with me not knowing all about you. So there is no reason for me to feel bad about it. 2. I realized that it is possible to have a relationship with someone after death. I have heard about this before, but I always thought it was weird. Now I am beginning to understand. The way it is possible to love someone without them knowing that you love them. This is eerily similar. But also you are still giving me things, you are still adding to my life, and so it's not one-sided. Except, I can't say thank you, unless this blog post counts as a thank you. 3. I've heard this blogging activity is very un-aristocratic. I wonder if being forgiving would also be called un-aristocratic. (In the sense of a value system, not an economic/class system.) I believe that you, Grandpa, were extremely forgiving and generous with people, and I'm going to continue to forgive and love people who don't forgive me, I'm going to be generous with people who are not generous with me - Not because it's "Christian," but because I believe that it's beneath my dignity to hold a grudge. In a way, I think it is un-aristocratic to be uncharitable to people -- to say they are unworthy. It is more undignified to be unforgiving, in other words.
Also, I think that you have taught me how it is possible to hold one's self in highest esteem - to love oneself - and, at the same time, to be generous to others. In fact one might say you have brought aristocratic and Christian value systems together, although this is probably an imaginative stretch. I am still thinking this one out. But blogging feels good and so does forgiving. I'm trusting my instincts.
P.S. For those who are reading this, I must clarify that this blogging is substantially different from the usual blogging which is done "in public" in the truest sense. This blog is NOT public, not searchable to Google and not known by anyone except for family members. So in a sense, while I might agree that traditional blogging, the confession of feelings to the masses, is un-aristocratic, I don't feel that this particular blog falls into such a category. It is a reminiscence, and was meant to be a shared reminiscence between members of one particular family. (Although many - most - have chosen not to participate in it, so it has become something else, other than what was intended.)
It is also a tribute, and in that sense, above all others, it is untraditional blogging. I write what I write with a particular audience in mind. And if what I do crosses into the realm of the creepy and "weird," then let's consider it a creative act, and nothing more, and nothing less.

Saturday, March 8, 2008


Today Mom and I drove up Mt. Wilson, almost to the very top. We drove as far as we could drive. Unfortunately there was a big locked gate blocking the road to the very top, so we were not able to go through there and park in the place where we were supposed to meet Berto, Gabi and Gary. (None of us knew that the observatory is closed until April!) Not knowing where the big parking lot was, we just parked in the nearest parking lot we could find.

The mountain was awesome. I rarely get to see a sight like this. It was a stunningly clear day, beautiful and bright. The wind was cold up there on the mountain, but the scent of pines is the sweetest scent in the world.

We went to scatter your ashes, Grandpa, and to say a last farewell. This was Berto's thought, and for this I am grateful to him. We did not scatter all of your ashes into the wind because of the mix-up. But still, we gave you a nice moment.

Mom and I drove until we found a perfect vantage point where we released some of the ashes. The dust blew into the wind and over the treetops. We said, “Goodbye, Dad,” and “Goodbye, Grandpa.”

Here is the view where we let your ashes disappear and become part of the universe.

(Click on the images to see larger size.)



And here are just a few more images that I am posting in order to share the experience we had on the mountain. Mom and I took these pictures while we waited and while we looked around for Gabi, Gary and Berto. It was sad to us that we could not meet up with them like we wanted to. Mom was in a sad mood on the drive home, down the mountain. I don't want you to think that we were entirely cheerful. However, we felt that we would make the best of it and enjoy the gorgeous views and natural wonders. Regarding locations, the two close-ups of Mom and me were taken near where we had parked our car, by the Red Box Picnic Area... And the others were taken when we were driving and looking around - we stopped at a trailhead where we explored a little, while we talked to other hikers about the trails leading up the mountain.

I couldn't help but enjoy the wonders of the sight I was seeing, and appreciate the day. Grandpa, I believe that you would have appreciated it too... As Mom and I discussed today, we both feel that we inherited your tendency to be in a good mood, most of the time, naturally!

We love you. We miss you. No matter how many days or months (or years) pass since you left us, we will be thinking of you!!!







Fotos de Marta












I am posting some more photos that I received from Marta, by way of Gerda T. (sorry for the delay in posting).
These are fantastic, thank you so much for sharing them! (Also if you click on the image you can see a bigger one, I think.)
Love, Felicia

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Recuerdo de German (from Gerda Trementino)








Desde Buenos Aires,
quiero transmitirles a toda mi familia de Usa parte de los buenos recuerdos que tenemos de los momentos compartidos con Pibe en sus venidas a esta ciudad. Fue una persona fuera de serie, siempre alegre y divertido, nunca de mal humor. En el año 1993 vino con nosotros a Bariloche donde estuvimos todos compartiendo una casa y realmente fueron 15 días maravillosos, donde recorrimos paisajes encantadores y sacó cantidad de fotos que seguramente encontraron.

En sus venidas a San Miguel era de rigor visitar La Positiva, un restaurant al que siempre vamos. Le gustaba la comida del lugar y tenía un mozo que lo atendía cada año que lo visitaba. En el 2006 festejamos su cumpleaños en este lugar con Rosemary y sus chicos. Todos recordaremos las fiestas de Navidad compartidas en San Miguel y algunos asados que hacía Carlos. Ayer extrañé su llamado que siempre hacía para mi cumpleaños.

Les mando una fotos con su familia de Argentina. Seguramente deben estar entre todas las que tenía de sus diferentes viajes, pero estas son algunas de las que él nos mandaba.

Muchos cariños y estaremos siempre en contacto. Si alguna vez vienen a Bs. As. los recibiremos con mucho cariño. Un abrazo para todos por allá, Gerda

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Email from a friend of Dad's

Message: I'm sure you already know that your father was one of the classiest and most talented men in the interior design community. He was also one of the least self-serving people I ever had the privilege to meet.

Although I knew German through FIDM and various associations, he was always gracious and expressed pleasure when we met, whether at a deign function or just in one of the many showrooms.

He will indeed be missed, but I am sure his influence and encouragement will long fuel the creativity of many of his students and associates.

In sympathy for you and yours,

Sharon de Leon
Design Portfolio
Santa Monica, CA.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

saw you in a dream

Hi Grandpa, I saw you in a dream last night. You were sitting on the couch in our old Melotte Street house and my mom was there and so was Gerda. And we were all watching videotapes (yes on the VCR) - some kind of old home movies from Argentina (that don't exist in real life). Anyway the thing I loved most about the dream is that you were you, just as I remember you, as you looked most of the time, round-faced and smiling, and it felt like it was just another visit from you - it wasn't a sad occasion, nobody was stressed or depressed - you weren't dying - we were all just hanging out. It was sweet. You were telling all kinds of anecdotes about scenes from the videos, and laughing with Gerda over good memories.

I miss you.

Love, Felicia

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

If you have thoughts to add, send them to me or click 'comments'

You can send them to fpalsson@usc.edu. I will post them for you.
Or, you can click "comments" to add your thoughts there.
Thanks everyone.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Moving On

Well, I guess it's time to move on......
This weekend we partied with Mary and all your friends from FIDM. It was fun, festive and we missed you. Everyone there had a host of stories and wonderful things to say about you, Dad. But, who would expect anything different. You were loved and respected by everyone you met. I met artists and designers, faculty and students. All of them loved you. It was your birthday and truly a celebration of your life. Mary, thank you!!

Then on Sunday we paid tribute in a more serious way. Mariana spoke of your love of music and played "Sarabande" from French Suite, No. 3 by Bach, on the piano. Alberto was wonderful as he described your charm and wit. He's had a very difficult time losing you. He made us all very proud as he stood there, so handsome and eloquent and spoke about you. It was tough not to break down. Erika read a favorite poem of yours, "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World" by Richard Wilbur. She loves poetry and I know she was honored to read something you had marked. Then many of your friends and clients spoke of your talent and art. There were testimonials of your work and how very gifted you were in design and architecture. One woman said she had hired 4 different architects and didn't like any of their work. Then she met you and she had an instant bond. There were friends there also from Santa Monica and Pacific Palisades. Everyone told me that you were a joy to be with and told stories of how they met you, dined with you, traveled with you. It was wonderful to see how many people were touched by you.

I had a difficult time wrapping things up. I didn't want to sound like a sad little girl. Although that is how I feel. I thanked everyone for coming and then offered some refreshments. Oh well... C'est la vie.

We did play Stardust for you. Although not as loud as I would have liked.
The flower arrangement was absolutely gorgeous. You would have loved it. Filled with white stock and red roses. They got it right, this time!!

Love you, Dad!! Big hug!

Poem from a friend

Ode to German Sonntag
by Edward Lee Goldstein, MA, MS, RPT.

Sadly, I did not know German well, but I knew his heart. A
lover of the arts, design, music—the love of all culture is
what set this passionate man apart.
What he liked, he really liked. And what he didnʼt like?
Trust me, he was always right! Just ask him.
At Carol and Richard Kingʼs salons, a thousand slides we
eagerly would bear. Accompanied by Bach and Handel,
and an art historian extraordinaire. And yes, I feel honored
to have heard Germanʼs take on the best humanity had to share.

While sharing his gifts from Historyʼs past, accompanied by love and song, German
generously gave all he had to give. Filling our senses with remarkable moments to recall,
moments, which will blossom and live our whole lifeʼs long.
As he now conducts his own salons in Heaven, to educate the hordes of appreciative
angels standing by his side, Iʼm sure heʼs delivering a mosaic of joy, art, design, architecture,
and music . . . plus a thousand slides.
Sublimely touching family, friends, and strangers with his love and common sense,
German, youʼll always be remembered as a special, inspiring, kindly man—a man of
heart, substance and benevolence.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Message received from HGTV

Message: I was the producer of Designers'
Challenge. It was such an honor to
have your dad on the show. I am so
glad that we got to show the viewers
what an artist he was. I am so sorry for
your loss.

Sincerely,

Stacy Schneider

1st attempt: Tribute Video

This is the 1st attempt. I may make another one if people send me more pictures (e.g. if I get more pictures of German with friends; this one is almost entirely family). Also, there is a mistake in this video. There is one picture where the heads got cut off - I have *no* idea why. Otherwise I think it's OK.

More Video Viewing Options... Just in case.

You can also view the video on YouTube.




German's Obituary


German C. Sonntag, architect, interior designer, beloved brother, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, passed away on Sunday, December 9, 2007, in San Diego.

He was born on January 5, 1920, in Buenos Aires, the youngest of three children. His father was an immigrant from Leipzig; his mother was born in Argentina. He was educated at the Buenos Aires Germania Schule. He married Iliana Redlich in 1944, and they had seven children, who were born in Argentina between 1945 and 1958.

German received his degree in Architecture from the University of Buenos Aires in 1950. Licensed both as an architect and an engineer, he was Director of Works (Director de Obras), for the City of Buenos Aires before deciding to emigrate to the United States in 1960, and settle in Los Angeles. Here he worked initially for the architectural firm of Smith, Powell & Morgridge in the city. Thereafter, his interests turned towards design and In-Architektur, and he became the Director of Design for the General Fireproofing Company of Youngstown, Ohio. In 1969 he took on commercial and residential design as an independent, and founded his own firm under the name of Classicus, Inc. In the nineteen seventies, he undertook, under this name, several distinguished projects in Los Angeles. He designed the offices of Boyd Jeffries & Co., in the Union Bank building at Figueroa and Fifth; various offices for the Sullivan Insurance Group; Hotchkiss & Wiley; and Max Factor, Hollywood, among many others.

German taught at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising (FIDM), first introducing history as a subject in the training of designers, and in 1979 became Chairman of the Interior Design Department. He would frequently lead his students through walks along the streets of downtown Los Angeles, pointing out to them the significant architectural details, the arches, gavottes and architraves of the old office buildings, the now famous Art Deco, Jugendstil and neo-Gothic structures of our downtown city.

His range of talent spanned several areas of design and interior architecture, in addition to commercial interiors, and he designed private residences in Laguna Beach, Santa Monica, Malibu, Glendale, and Pasadena. German was a regular and enthusiastic participant in the Pasadena Showcase House for the Arts (PSHA) program throughout the 1980’s and 1990’s. To the end, he refused to abandon his work and his outreach activities. He continued to design well into his eighties. As recently as the year 2004, he won the design challenge contest on the HGTV television show, “Designers’ Challenge.”
German was active in several professional associations, especially the American Society of Interior Designers (ASID), serving on the Board from 1968-1990, including several years as First Vice President and Historian of the Los Angeles Chapter. German was also an active member of the International Furnishings Design Association (IFDA), the Institute of Business Designers (IBD), the Society of Architectural Historians, the Decorative Arts Council of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and was an Associate Member of the American Institute of Architects (AIA). He published several articles in local and national magazines such as Designers West and Interior Design.

Santa Monica became his beloved home in the early 1970s, and he lived there for close to thirty-five years. He was a passionate lover of music, particularly that of the great German classics, and he loved the visual arts with equal fervor. His eye for beauty was as certain as the eagle's on his prey. An avid reader, German collected thousands of books and magazines on a diverse range of topics, which are now placed in various academic and public libraries. He traveled widely in the United States, Europe and Latin America. He was fluent in German and French, as well as his native Spanish. A cosmopolitan and cultured man – indeed, a true romantic – German will be sincerely missed by many.

German Sonntag is survived by his seven children, Albert, Fred, Alec, Iliana, Gabriela Morris (Gary), Mariana Whitmer (George), and Paul; thirteen grandchildren; five great-grandchildren; his sister Gerda Anderson and her family in Argentina; as well as various cousins scattered throughout the old German cities of Leipzig, Bonn, Luebeck, Koeln, and Mainz, with whom he remained in friendly contact throughout his life.

A memorial service will be held on Sunday, January 6, 2008 from 2:00-4:00pm at Throop Memorial Church, 300 S. Los Robles, Pasadena.