Leaving Behind a Legacy

HIERIONYMUS, HOUSER, CONZEMIUS

Posted By: Harvey W Henry (email)
Date: 9/11/2007 at 18:34:51

Leaving behind a legacy
By Maria Houser Conzemius
Writers' Group--Iowa City Press-Citizen
Sally Hieronymus Hall smiled through her tears and said it was appropriate that her dad, Al Hieronymus, died on Labor Day, because no one exemplified the work ethic better than he did.
He was the oldest of six children of a poor tenant farmer in Illinois. Sometimes I think that the Hieronymus family religion is hard work, but they know when quittin' time is, too. It's five o'clock, when everyone would join Al for "pop time," time for pop and Pop, as the grandchildren called him.
Sally told sad and funny stories about her dad. She said that shortly before he died, the doctor was explaining to him what he could expect from Iowa City Hospice, and Al was watching the first Hawkeye game of the season with the sound turned off.
At the end of the doctor's presentation, he asked Al, "Do you have any questions?" Al said, "Yeah. What's the score?"
In World War II, Al developed the formula for more accurate targeting by anti-aircraft guns, called Ack Ack. At Al's home, with his daughter, Peggy Hieronymus, helping me do my research, I saw page after page of geometric and trigonometric formulas, written precisely in ink in his own hand. One page of formulas was "to position a shaft electrically" on artillery. He saved many lives. In fact, he received the French Croix de Guerre from Gen. de Gaulle himself, and Gen. George Patton of the Third Army shook his hand.
Al also received the Bronze Star from the United States for keeping the guns firing during the campaign that liberated the Normandy port of Cherbourg from the Germans in late June 1944.
As an educational measurement and statistics professor at the University of Iowa, he was one of the founders of the Iowa Tests of Basic Skills. He worked hard, and only changed the nature of his work when he retired. He never lost touch with faculty, many of whom Al had mentored, who joined him at bowl parties.
Toward the end, Al couldn't move very fast, and he shrank a bit from his 6-foot height, but he kept moving as long as he could, tending to his large gardens, hosting game parties and cooking Mickey Mouse pancakes and waffles on Sunday morning for his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
The last thing he said to me was a week before he died. He bent over my August Writers' Group piece. He'd missed it because he'd been so sick. He read it carefully, and he was so frail that he bent almost to his knees over the piece of paper in his lap. Afterwards, when I said goodbye, he took my hand, held it long, and told me I was a "wonderful writer, just wonderful." He thanked me for coming over, and I didn't know that it was for the last time.
Al was one of the most generous, unpretentious people I have ever known. You wouldn't have known that he was anyone special at all. Maybe a generous farmer.
Sally used to laugh when visitors would come by and ask Al, dressed in old clothes and shuffling about the property, if he was the gardener. Well, he was the gardener, but also the owner. Al's gardens were his pride and joy.
Freda, his wife, wore overalls as a young, pretty woman. As an elderly lady, she continued to bake her homemade rolls from scratch, usually served with succulent pieces of ham. If you walked into her kitchen and saw her with her floury apron on, you would never have guessed that she was a successful entrepreneur. Her rolls were to die for.
Grandson Aaron Warner's video of Al and Freda explaining together how to make rolls, using broken teacups and miscellaneous teaspoons, is adorable and hilarious at the same time.
I looked at Sally stretched out on her couch with her head back. So tall -- so very much like her father -- that I realized Al didn't really die. He just passed on. He passed on his kindness, generosity of spirit and hospitality to her.
So, I haven't really lost Al, although I admit that I cried my eyes out this morning. I still have him in his daughter.
Maria Houser Conzemius, a former social worker, is a member of the Press-Citizen's Writers' Group. Her blog, "Open Country," can be found at mypc.press-citizen.com/blogs.