1970: the first time I met my congressman’s wife, Arvonne Fraser. I had been talked into running for the state legislature from the old district 35 in south Minneapolis. I say “talked into” because everyone else at the convention was smart enough to know the Dems were not going to beat attorney Gary Flakne. He’d held the seat since he was about twelve years old.
But run I did. My friend Ruth Murphy held a fundraiser for me at her house. I went to open the door, and there was Arvonne with her youngest child of 5 or so. First lesson: You don’t have to leave your kids at home when you are out on politics!
She introduced herself and I was impressed that she bothered to show up at a fundraiser for a longshot candidate. I learned through the years that nothing was a longshot for Arvonne—not if it involved support for any democratic candidate, especially a woman.
We became ‘party’ colleagues and then friends. We discovered a number of connections, including the Women’s Political Caucus (which was just beginning in Minnesota in those years) and slightly later the DFL Feminist Caucus.
In the mid-70’s Arvonne suggested me for the Women’s Equity Action League board in Washington D.C. where I served with her for several years. But we saw each other more at home.
There were several summers where we rented the ‘small’ cabin on the river, but I remember more the dinners at the ‘big house’, as we called it. There were wonderful conversations with many of the legendary democrats, always good food, sometimes rides in the boat. Bonnie would be there helping too. My favorite times were the discussions with some of the best minds in politics of the day: the Naftalins, the Shapiros, Sam and Sylvia and women’s groups leaders like Yvette Oldendorf and Esther Wattenburg.
There was one particular memory that stays in my mind. Arvonne had two friends from Washington D.C. visiting, women leaders of a national organization. My friend Ruth was there also. Both Ruth and Arvonne had lost children recently, and both were still grieving. We were sitting on the beach in chairs in a semi-circle talking, just the five of us.
Somehow the conversation turned to loss. I said something to Ruth, like: “I just want things to be different, to help because I love you.” One of the other women said: “Ruth knows you love her, Judy.” And I realized then that no matter how much you care for someone, you cannot make life different for them.
I was always amazed at the stoic nature and strength of Arvonne, who sustained the grief of losing two children. She continued with the life’s work she knew she had to do and with her care for the rest of her family.
Shortly after this in the early ‘80s Arvonne began a book group. Sylvia was a member, Janet, Ruth Murphy and Mary Martin and several women from the Humphrey. Altogether we were about 12 or 14. We would read the classics (mostly Arvonne’s idea,) always women authors or about women. Anna Karenina, Virginia Woolf were particularly lively discussions. We met at each others’ houses for dinner, lots of wine and lots of opinions! We also had a terrible habit of all talking at once. But I never wanted to miss one of these energizing evenings.
What I came to understand in these gatherings was that Arvonne was much more than women and politics: she had a deep interest in the lives of women expressed through all kinds of media, but especially fiction. That’s where women’s stories would be told, and they would last.
That book group wound down in the mid-nineties, but about 8 years later a new one started, a much smaller group of 7. We were some of the same people and we called ourselves a “Book Club” but we never read a book. This group was very open about it: We only gathered to talk politics! We met almost every month at the Nicollet Island Inn, and Arvonne was the one who would usually send out the reminder. We were really good about getting together, except in July when Arvonne was ‘on the river’.
When Arvonne was in hospital 2 years ago (was it then?) I came to see her a couple of times. One day she was getting ready to go and the subject of her trip to Texas came up. She was going to some event honoring Sissy Farenthold, her long time friend and colleague on the national scene. The doctor suggested she may have to take oxygen on the trip. (I think Tom and Jeannie were there as well.) The doctor asked who would be going with her and she looked over at Don! As if he was going to be a help! I then offered to go with her (and I meant it!) to help out. As it turned out Tom later let me know I wasn’t needed. Arvonne , both determined and indomitable, was going to make the trip on her own. I knew she’d be fine.
Around Christmas this past year Arvonne had a dozen people over for dinner. As always, animated conversation (What do you expect with George Latimer?) abounded. I marveled at this woman in her ‘nineties’ still gathering people around for good food and good conversation.
In the past two or three years Arvonne and I would also have lunch alone at Wilde Roast. The last time we did that was in June. Our talk was sometimes of the past but more often lately about life in general: aging and families, old friends gone. Not somber talk, but more fundamental, as if these were the things in life that mattered. And they do.
Arvonne was an amazing women in so many ways. The Women’s Movement both local and national, owes a lot to her. She managed to endure personal tragedy more than once, illness and the loss of friends and other personal changes. But her real strength lay in her intelligence and energy to create change—and be a part of it---for the betterment of the world. She had a great heart and the soul of a warrior. We will not see her like again.
Judith K Healey
