The Halting Journey of Rose M. Clark

When I lived in Rio de Janeiro, a Brazilian friend told me, "Brazil has no history, only a series of events."

I see a strong parallel in my own lack of history; just a series of events and their consequences.

The first catastrophic event in my life was the death of my mother when I was three years old.

My aunt Mable took me away to her home in New Jersey. My syblings remained in New York. For the next six years I lived with my aunt and cousins, Eddie and Delores. I didn't know my correct name until I started school.

When I was nine, my aunt was forced to give me up. The Depression made keeping me out of the question. I was returned to New York and made a ward of the court. While I was living in New Jersey, my sister and two brothers were placed in an orphan asylum. The court sent me to the same institution.

I can scarcely remember meeting my syblings. Boys and girls were segregated. Due to the age difference between us, I only saw my sister occasionally. I remained in the home for three years; spending most of my time in the library. I then learned of a foster care program administered by the home. I was pleased to move on when it was discovered that my father had been working throughout the Depression and could have supported his family. I had the option of having the court pursue him to support me or to join a family as a "mother's helper" and continue with high school. I chose the latter. It was during my senior high school year that World War II broke out.

When I graduated from high school, I had no marketable skills. My foster father hired me to help in his business. I worked for him for two years; six months of which I spent trying to leave. I found a job as a general office helper in a firm that manufactured mens' bathrobes. A great market for the troops. The owner was a benevolent man who sent us to City College for courses to improve our job performance. It was there I learned bookkeeping. When the management of the firm changed, I moved on. By that time I had become matriculated at City and attended college at night. I fortunately found living quarters within walking distance of the school. At this point in time, I can't imagine being able to walk home from school at ten p.m. with no thought for my personal safety.

My major at City was Business Adminstration, with a minor in Foreign Trade. As an adjunct to my academic studies, I got a job as an assistant bookkeeper in a freight forwarding firm. A freight forwarder sends and receives overseas shipments for businesses not having export/import departments. I enjoyed that job. Our office was located on the third floor of an old Broad Street building. A famous financial district restaurant occupied the ground and second floors. Within a two block radius of our building were the NY Stock Exchange, the Corn Exchange Building, the Treasury building and Customs House. Banking establishments were thick on the ground.

The next major event in my life stemmed from my love of classical music. I was accustomed to listening to the Sunrise Symphony while dressing for work. It was announced on the program that a team from the U.S. Department of State was going to be in New York on a recruiting mission. More as a lark than anything else, I made an application. Several months passed. I enrolled in the fall term at school. One November day, I got a telegram to report to Washington, D.C. I was accepted into the Foreign Service. The next three months were spent in training as a code operator. In February 1948 I was assigned to the Seoul, Korea Embassy. That assignment ended with the evacuation. My next assignment was to Vienna, Austria during the Four Power Occupation. Then I went to Rio de Janeiro during which tour President Getullio Vargas killed himself. I wasn't really happy with my work in Rio so requested a transfer. I was assigned to Managua, Nicaragua. I hadn't been there any time at all when President Somoza was assassinated. My assignment to Tijuana was uneventful, aside from the fact that my boyfriend from Nicaragua hunted me down, we got engaged just before I was due to go to New York for homeleave. While returning to Tijuana, I stopped off in Portland and met my fiance's family. We married.

That was the beginning of a very different life as wife and, eventually, mother of three wonderful children.

In retrospect, there were many events in my life over which I had no control. It had taken decades to confirm my good fortune in deciding to give up my career and to marry. I have met women I knew in the Foreign Service who never married. Their prospects for worry-free golden years are very bleak.

Please forgive any typos and faulty grammar. I just don't have the patience to edit this right now.

Rose