My husband and I are currently writing a book about the life and work of an extraordinary and complicated man. His name was Dr. John R. Schmidt, and he’s mostly known in medical circles around the world as the physician who changed how leprosy is treated on the planet today.
I knew him as my father.
We have many boxes of letters, personal diaries, journals, newspaper articles and books that reveal the life of John Schmidt. My mother handed them over to me in May of 2006, three years after my father died. “You’re my writer, Marlena. Some day I want you to write the story of our lives,” she said.
At the time I had no intention of doing so, but I took the boxes (What was I to say: “Sorry, Mom, I Don’t Want Your Stuff?”).
They now fill an entire wall of shelves in our writing studio.
In sorting through the material, we have uncovered details about my father that I never knew. The discoveries have helped me understand the man more fully, which I expected. But they have also triggered joy, sadness, discomfort and other emotions that I didn’t expect at all. It often surprises me how powerfully the past can invade the present.
The story of my father’s life has also sparked a number of questions that I believe are universal. Questions having to do with faith, money, power, war and family, to name a few. I will explore some of these issues in my first series of blog posts in 2019.
But first, a personal note about what it feels like to read intimate details a parent leaves behind in writing.
For a very long time, people have struggled with the question about whether “to read, or not to read” private written documents after the death of the writer. I’m privileged to have received permission to read my parents’ personal accounts. In fact, I was left with the charge to do so.
And yet, I still sometimes feel like a peeping Tom, peering into intimacies I have no right to see.
My parents kept personal diaries almost their entire lives, from their childhood in the early 1920s, to just a few years before they died, he in 2003, she seven years later.
Many entries are boring and repetitive (“Woke up. Baked bread. Went to church.”). Some are angry outbursts. Others are intimate confidences. The details recorded in the personal writings of a lifetime weave together a familiar story for those who knew my strong-willed and determined father. But they also reveal an inner life, at times tender and loving, at times filled with torment and confusion. These were not things the world associated with the powerful public persona of Dr. John R. Schmidt.
For me, the honor of seeing his inner life is a gift, laced with a bit of unease and a lot of both pride and compassion.
John and Clara Schmidt live extraordinary lives. From their early days in Kansas to their final years in Paraguay they never stopped energetically acting in ways intended to to contribute to others in their communities and around the world.
What a gift from your mother. I can understand/appreciate the mixed emotions you are grappling with yet know you will be all the richer from “seeing” other sides of your father.
Happy New Year with hugs,
Judith
All the richer is right, Jude.
Happy New Year to you and Peter as well!
I understand your dilemma about reading your parents private writings, but am somewhat envious as I lost my parents when I was in my early twenties, and never got to know them adult to adult. Might be a blessing not to have it, might have been nice to learn.
Ah Sylvia, thank you for that note. So sad for your loss! What you say is true … might be a blessing not to have it – might have been nice to learn. Like so many things in our lives – more than one side to them.
Marlena you said your family was from Kansas and I was wondering which part. My family lived in Wichita, Newton and Peabody. They were Mennonites plus from my family tree we had a John Schmidt. My maiden name was Buller.
Hi Karen.
My father (John Rempel Schmidt) grew up on a farm near Goessel Kansas. My mother (Clara Regier) grew up on a farm east of Newton. So we’re probably related!!! This is the “Mennonite game,” by the way, figuring out who’s related to whom:-)
First Mennonite Church, Newton. My grandparents were long time members having moved there from Hillsboro in late 1920s. My mom and aunts grew up in that church. My parents were married there. My first Sunday school. Both my grandparents funerals were held there.
Last names/Bergman, Goertz, Funk
My siblings and I have all the letters our parents wrote to each other (daily) during WWII. They were married 2 weeks before my father was shipped out. I’ve read a few, mostly the ones when my mom found out they were expecting me, their first child. Even though it’s about me it is so intimate and precious as they share there joy and hope for the war to end so they can start their life together. I’ve always thought about reading them all, compiling them /or writing their story. I’m very interested in your experience in this and the final result.
Dear Ingrid. First Mennonite in Newton is where my parents were married as well! Thank you so much for connecting. I very much look forward to future exchanges. Blessings!
My husband was born in Hillsboro and his Mother was MB Mennonite.. Pankratz and Zimmerman.
Judy, I think you’re playing the “Mennonite game.” If you’re not familiar with that term, it means listing the surnames of relatives to determine if there are any common relations:-)
I look forward to your next blog
Thank you for your interest, Edith!
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I found a box of long forgotten letters in the attic of my parents home. They are letters written back and forth between my father and his mother and father during WWII. Over 250 letters. I haven’t gotten through all of them yet. It’s been an surprisingly emotional experience. Everyone who wrote these letters has passed on. Sometimes after an hour of reading, I feel like I’ve had a conversation with them. But it’s strange, realizing that they were younger than I am now when they were writing those letters.
I had no ones permission to read them, I didn’t even know what they were when I opened the box. Now I consider them one of my greatest treasures.
YES, Carol! Exactly as though I’ve had a conversation with them! The past and present become blurred. And when you cherish those writings the way you do, your father is honored. Thank you for sharing that.
Hello! I just found some letters and western union messages to my mom from my dad during WW11. I found out many things from my mom’s brother too. I had no idea how they met or the date of their marriage. It was such a reconnection that made me miss them even more. My parents were very private people. I as a child did not see a lot of affection between them but they loved each other dearly. This was out of privacy that I did not see it much. I was 15 when my father passed away. I do know my mom pined away for him and never remarried. She did not even think of it. Thank you got sharing.
Mary Van Meter
Dear Mary. Thank you so very much for sharing this. Yes! It’s a form of reconnection that is precious, precious, and that – as you say – makes us miss them even more. Blessings!
I’m fascinated by your project! To have the privilege of knowing your father and mother—not only as parents but multi-faceted human beings—through these documents, is a gift. I look forward to following your posts!
Thanks, Susan. And I look forward to interactions with you!
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I look forward to reading this
Thanks, Kathy! Probably in 2020. I’ll post the book release notification here on the website.
I would love to read your blog post
Thank you, Eula. Are you not able to access it here on the website?