[img]1|left|||no_popup[/img]
The first time I met Adele and Henry Siegel was in their parlor a number of years ago on Christmas Day.
They were Jewish, and so was I. Therefore, I hoped we could proceed directly into our interview without any tinsel to slow us.
But first, I was struck by my surroundings on an overcast and chilly day. How dark the room seemed. My vision was fine, but didn’t they want illumination instead of heavy shadows?
I had just met them, both were edging toward their 90s, and this was their home. Not the setting for a suggestion.
The Siegels’ reputation as hardline activists who seemed to believe in everything the opposite of my convictions was a little disconcerting.
What Strategy to Use
If they really were hardbitten, that would call for a certain approach. But since they were elderly, a softer line of inquiry was appropriate.
Like a rookie criminal ready to rob his first bank, I acted tentatively.
In another setting, this might have been red meat.
One angle of the story was that the two of them — but especially Mrs. Siegel — had been campaigning for world peace and universal demilitarization since World War II, even if the world did not feel any more serene than when they started.
That did not matter. They had fought a fight that supporters would say was valiant and their more numerous critics would call foolish.
One Way They Were Different
All of the people I knew in their age range were more interested in their next meal, or their most recent one, not in any discussion of political philosophy.
The Siegels are, of course, not to be measured by the number of wars being conducted around the globe but by more personal yardsticks.
I am sure they were living differently from earlier years when they were surrounded by their four children and galvinized every day by their quest for peace in the world.
They fought a number of Culver City issues, but peace, far beyond Culver City’s borders, seemed to be what truly lit up their lives.
The Siegels were farther on the left than probably anyone I have met, which made them a kind of museum attraction, too.
A half-dozen times, I wanted to ask Mrs. Siegel, “Do you really believe that?”
By my body language, she could easily discern that I was not an ally.
But she was kind, gracious, generous.
The Quiet Half of the Team
While I was listening to Mrs. Siegel’s crisp, succinct, informed responses to my questions, Mr. Siegel was his typically stoic self.
Across the room, a couch lined the eastern wall, and Mr. Siegel was practically reclining on it. I noticed occasionally that his eyes were resting.
I visited their home on Braddock Drive a number of times over the years. While it would be an exaggeration to say we became friends, we were certainly were comfortable with each other.
Every time, just as on my first visit, Henry Siegel remained in the background. His role seemed was to be pleasant but happily distant from the firing line.
