George Meyer Rodenborn

George Meyer Rodenborn was born on February 22, 1936 in Oakland, California to parents Helen Meyer Rodenborn and Harold Mathias Rodenborn. He grew up in Alameda, California attending public schools until he graduated from Alameda High School in 1954. He attended U.C. Berkeley for two years, earning an Associate’s Degree. While there, he clerked for one of the famed Anthropology professors of the time, Alfred Kroeber. He then moved to Venice Beach, California to immerse himself in the Beatnik culture of the time. In Venice Beach, he lived on beaches and in storefronts and ended up working at the famous Venice West café, one of the original homes of Beatnik poetry. He once said that the reason the audience snapped at the end of poetry readings was due to complaints from neighbors of the cafédue to the loud noise of applause. In the early 1960s, he moved back to the Bay Area and took a job at the now closed Holmes Book Company in Oakland. He later married Shirley Nichols and they had one daughter, Marcy. In the 1970s, he and a partner opened the Gold Fruit Bowl, also in downtown Oakland. The shop was for the downtown Oakland lunchtime crowd and became well known for interesting sandwich combinations such as cream cheese, avocado, and olives, as well as fruit salad, the Orange “George-ous”, and the sounds of KMPX (Big Band radio) playing continuously in the background. In the 1950s and 1960s, he acquired hundreds of Little Blue Books and there he learned about Esperanto, the international language. Captivated, he became fluent in Esperanto and joined the Esperanto Society. He was President of the San Francisco Esperanto Society in the early 1970s and went to the World Esperanto Conference in Hamburg, Germany in 1974. He also participated in the Berkeley Esperanto Society and always believed in the promise of an international language. He loved languages and word play. He taught himself French, German, Spanish, and Italian and was fascinated by how language worked. He loved riddles, jokes, puns, and any kind of interesting use of language. An avid reader, he acquired thousands of books in his lifetime from a wide range of genres—history, fiction, mysteries, plays, essay collections, travelogues, poetry, biographies—anything and everything captured his attention. He would write out lines or passages he like in notebooks. He loved sharing books he loved with people and frequently talked my ear off about various obscure books he loved. After the Gold Fruit Bowl closed in the mid-1990s, he ended up working at Spectator Books in Alameda, then Oakland. He made many friends there and enjoyed his time selling and continuing to share his love of books and reading. He moved up to Washington state in 2003 to be closer to his beloved little sister, “Suzy,” and my family. A year after he arrived, he had a grandchild, Penelope. After multiple health issues—lung cancer, COPD, asthma, emphysema, strokes, heart issues—he moved his with my family. He spent his final five years with us in declining health. We are eternally grateful for the friendship and support of Jiro Ramji, Pat Forsey, and Don England and the time they spent with him. The whole time he was sick and ailing with dementia advancing, he was always in a good mood and very easy to please. Always happy to see me, I will forever miss his smile when I walked in the door and laughing with him at classic comedies. While in his final days at the hospital and hospice, he was a favorite of the nurses due to his smiles and sense of humor that stayed with him to the end. He is survived by his wife, Shirley and his sister, Susan Rodenborn, as well as multiple nephews and nieces who loved “Uncle George.” He also left behind many friends in all areas of his life, his bookselling friends, lifetime friends, and his Esperanto friends, especially Dan Mason. During his final days, I found a couple books of poetry where he had marked up numerous poems that he liked. The last word he said to me was “Yes,”when I asked him if he wanted me to read him some poetry. If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb. If I couldn't thank you, Being fast asleep, You will know I'm trying With my Granite lip! - Emily Dickenson In memory of George, feed the birds, put your face into the sun, read interesting things, and make people laugh. Donations in his name can be made to the San Francisco Esperanto Regional Society. —Marcy Rodenborn