The first house husband Gene and I owned was on Capitol Hill in Seattle. It was built in 1909 by a Seattle rabbi and civic leader named Samuel Koch who built it in 1909 right after his marriage to his wife Cora.
Samuel was the rabbi of Temple de Hirsch Sinai for many years till his death in 1944. Both his sons were born in what was to later become our bedroom. They once visited us and asked if they could see the room that both of them were born in.
We were only the second owners of the house. We bought it in 1958 from Samuel’s widow Cora Koch – one week after we delivered our 5th child, Gretchen Marie.
At a cocktail party one time a few years after we bought the house, a woman came up to me and introduced herself. (I wish I could remember her name.) She told me she had heard we were now the owners of the house, and she wanted to tell me about its history.
This is what she told me. Just preceding World War II, Rabbi Koch managed to help immigrate as many Jewish children from Germany as he could, and he and Cora managed to house them in what was our “upstairs”. The woman who told me about it was herself among the stream of children that were rescued.
What we called the “upstairs” was really an attic, made up of what we called “alcoves”, but it helped spare the lives of the children who lived there till Samuel and Cora found them permanent homes.
Rabbi Koch died in 1944 – before World War II ended. After I learned the story of the house, I managed to learn more about his distinguished career.
Rabbi Koch was an outspoken crusader for social causes: he served on the board of many Seattle social service agencies, worked to create Children’s Hospital (now called Seattle Children’s Hospital – where I was employed for 16 years). and fostered ties between Christians and Jews. In 1924, during Koch’s tenure, the Temple Center was built to house the religion school, library, and many social programs.
I didn’t find a single word about his and Cora’s foresight and humanity in their successful efforts to rescue some of the children before it was too late. Somebody should write a book about it.
Later, after we bought the home, those strange little attic “alcoves” would also shelter all seven of Gene’s and my children. In that house, however humble, there always seemed to be “room in the inn”. Knowing more about the history of the house made me understand what an unusual honor it was to have lived in it.
Still, it would have nice to have had more than one bathroom for all nine of us!
What an amazing history!
Oh my goodness I lived there from two to about fifteen years of age and this is the first time I ever heard about the history of that dear home. It was a solid and functional home for nine people but we really needed one more bathroom. I remember poor dad walking around the house in the morning with a wash towel around his face preparing for a shave and all of us kids sitting on the steps waiting to take a turn in the bathroom. The worst part about that bathroom were the three attached doors. One door connected to the master bedroom. Another door attached to Mark and Matt’s shared bedroom. And there was also a hallway door. The worst part was that only one of the doors could be locked. So you could be interrupted from your business at anytime!! “I’m in here”!!! was often heard on the premises. I do have fond memories of the big tub where bathing was a group affair!
The living room was magical at Christmas. There were lots of windows and the tree and holiday lights were so pretty. And Mom and Dad made sure there were tons of gifts for everyone under the tree. There are so many memories from the years we lived on Capital Hill. And I always felt special being part of the Ford family!
Actually, Susy, I am planning on including it in a piece of historical fiction, so stay tuned! One of my favorite memories of the old house was Dad’s painting of a horse and the long-leaf pine tree on the wall in the living room. I’m so glad Grandma Ford never told him not to color on the walls.
I remember that house! Mom brought us to stay part of the summer while dad finished our house in Fair Oaks. Did it have a big front porch? I remember sitting on the porch playing the categories clapping game. So many kids to play with!! And now you have this beautiful history to go along with it!! Keep those stories coming, please!
Always amazing how small parts of our childhoods can I have an unseen connection to good or bad world events back then . Wonderful story Gwenie .
I loved that house. It had a strong fairytale feel — brick, curved staircase, little dormer windows, and the beautiful French doors to the large porch Chris referenced. I never knew it was a refugee shelter — how touching! It was larger than it looked but, alas, only the one loo. As eldest daughter, I had the only bonafide bedroom upstairs, and boy did I make use of it. Especially when friends and I would sneak cigarettes and blow the smoke out the window. Outside my bedroom was a little nook at the top of the stairs where we stored a ton of stuffed animals. I think Dad called it “Fordneyland”? Thinking about it now, a funny thing I recall are wood floors, even a built-in wooden bench where I remember Mom showing me how to change a diaper (Judy’s, natch) for the first time.
A song I love includes the lyrics, “If these old walls could talk — what a tale they’d have to tell. The sun goin’ down and dinner bells. And children playin’ at hide and seek. From floor to rafters, if these old walls could speak.” (Listen to the cover by Shawn Colvin at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xU1oqzMYVuk) The song makes me lonesome for that beautiful old house.