Rosemary Ruffenach

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Biography

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Rosemary Writes

Great-Grandma’s fur coat

By Rosemary Ruffenach, Saint Paul Almanac

As coats made from the pelts of animals go, the one that I inherited three years ago probably wasn't that expensive: It isn't mink, beaver, sable, or even fox. Rather, it's made from the pelts of brown rabbits, dyed black. We figure it came to my Austro-Hungarian great-grandma in the 1930s; family lore has it that Great-Uncle Ted presented it as a gift to his mother.

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Saint Paul Almanac

Waiting for an angelic visit

By Rosemary Ruffenach
It was one of the best sermons I ever sat through—and counting myself as a ‘regular church-goer’, I’ve sat through a lot, most not memorable. Looking out at the blowy snow on Sunday morning, I was tempted to just skip the service. But then I reminded myself that it was the fourth Sunday in Advent, and Advent is my favorite liturgical season. For me it’s all about Mary, maternity, and waiting. MORE »

Class of 1968

By Rosemary Ruffenach
1968. The year I grew up. The November 19, 2007 edition of Newsweek commemorates the year 1968: “The Year that Changed Everything.” In one piece, Evan Thomas narrates “the worst week” of that lacerating year. It began on Sunday, March 31, when Martin Luther King told a packed crowd at the National Cathedral that building gigantic buildings kissing the skies was not enough. The God of history required more: “I was hungry and ye fed me not. I was naked and ye clothed me not…” MORE »

Ancestors Dark and Light

By Rosemary Ruffenach
My kids think I’m nuts on the subject of genealogy. They can’t imagine why I spend so much time doing family history research, never mind the money spent visiting Ireland and Austria and who knows how many future locales. I tell them that some day they will appreciate my quest for roots. They’re dubious. MORE »

Why are we reading this?

By Rosemary Ruffenach
“Why are we reading this?” demanded Eric. “Why are you asking?” I was tempted to retort. It was hardly as if he had more pressing demands on his time. Reminding myself that patience was the day’s watchword, I resisted an “I’m the teacher, that’s why!” retort. Instead I explained that during this week we were commemorating a very important event in our nation’s civil rights history: the fiftieth anniversary of the Little Rock Nine’s integration of Central High School. MORE »

Fourth grade snots

By Rosemary Ruffenach, Rosemary Writes

As kids we used to jump rope on the school playground chanting, “First grade babies/ Second grade tots/ Third grade angels/ Fourth grade snots.” I couldn’t wait to become one of those snots. It sounded so, well, teenagie. I was thinking a lot about fourth grade after this week’s all-district school staff meeting. Usually they are ho-hum affairs.

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Rosemary Writes

die Brücke

By Rosemary Ruffenach
As talk about a 35W bridge memorial begins, another crossing memorial comes to mind—that commemorating a tiny bridge which saved 70,000 lives in 1956. MORE »

Baku Wedding Tour

By Rosemary Ruffenach
When I announced to my summer school students that I would be abandoning them for a trip to Baku, Azerbaijan, there was silence and blank looks. Were they displeased, pleased, neutral? “Where’s that?” one finally asked. Ah ha! They wanted to play Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? I offered clues. “It’s got a lot of oil, and British Petroleum just finished a new pipeline that runs from there to Europe.” No one ventured a guess. “It used to be part of the Soviet Union.” MORE »

Sheltering

By Rosemary Ruffenach
The plotline: Dr. Stockton has plagued his neighbors with a nocturnal building project, a basement fallout shelter, and by his frequent warnings to prepare for a nuclear attack. When radar detects missiles heading for the U.S., his neighbors wish they had listened; but, since they didn’t, surely Stockton would wish to share his quarters. Not the case. The shelter can only hold three—Stockton, his wife, Grace and their son, Paul. Will his neighbors break down the shelter door? If so, who should be allowed in? MORE »

The Major and the Merchant

By Rosemary Ruffenach
My students were neutral to positive when I announced that we were going to read Major Barbara as our next play. After all, we had done Pygmalion earlier and that wasn’t half bad. At least they could understand most of the dialogue, since thankfully, it wasn’t Shakespeare. Each year my colleague and I try to read the plays included in the Guthrie Theater season with students and then escort a group to the performances. This year it was to be Major Barbara and The Merchant of Venice. My colleague chose the latter and taught lessons on usury and the status of Jews in Elizabethan England. For the Major, I too started out with context, discussing Fabian socialism and the arms race and secret military alliances in the run-up to World War I. MORE »
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