In celebration of my grandfather Emanuel Bronner’s 105th birthday on February 1, here are family recollections that give a sense of what it was like to grow up with him. These memories come from my own childhood, my brothers and cousins, and stories passed down from my dad and uncle.
From my father Jim’s early years come vivid tales: Grandpa gave very young Jim and Ralph rides on the front bumper of a 1942 Buick, straddling the bumper guards and clutching the hood ornament. He loved fun and adventure, and he knew how to make life exciting.
Answering the phone was always unpredictable. Without caller ID, each ring could bring an urgent request: “Mike! Have you memorized the Moral ABC yet? Recite to me number 22!” or “Lisa! You must learn to type! It is the way of the future!” (I usually got the easier assignments.) Or the practical insistence: “You must spend three years of your life working with your hands! I laid bricks and it gave me the common touch!”
My cousin Eric and his high school friends remember sleepovers interrupted at 6 or 7 a.m. Wisconsin time (4 or 5 a.m. California time). Eric would bolt upright and answer, “All-One!” because who else would call so early? “Eric! I need you to read to me from the biography of Karl Marx.” Eric always kept an Encyclopedia Britannica near the phone for those impromptu reading sessions.
The Moral ABC wasn’t just a part of his work; it was his life. He believed there was no time to waste in spreading a message of unity and peace, convinced the world risked self-destruction. Small talk frustrated him. When my cousin Mark tried to discuss sports, Grandpa cut straight to the point: “Mark! With nuclear bombs we’re all-one or none! Get it done!”
Grandpa had a distinctive speaking style: economical with words, delivered with emphasis and a strong German accent, sometimes punctuated by a poetic couplet. He spoke directly and forcefully, leaving no room for ambiguity.
He also had a talent for public, heartfelt conversations, particularly “man to man” talks that often began in very public places, such as the lobby of the Las Vegas Hilton. There was no volume control: “Mark! Have you experienced love yet?!” he would demand, as everyone nearby listened.
Gladys, his wife, affectionately called him Sparkles, and he trusted her deeply. Even after losing his sight, he maintained his exercise routine by jogging beside her car while she drove, holding onto a slightly rolled-down window.
With Grandpa, there was no half-measure. Everything was all or nothing. If we woke him at an appointed hour, he’d shout, “Give me 10 more minutes or I’m a dead man!” To Gladys he might exclaim, “Gladys, I’ll give you a million dollars if you let me speak for 5 minutes!” And when introducing family, he expressed boundless confidence in our futures: of Mark, then a 19-year-old student at the University of Wisconsin, he proudly announced, “Now I’d like you to meet my grandson, Mark, a professor of mathematics at the University of Wisconsin.”
He was unafraid of others’ reputations or status. His soap labels sometimes credited classic poets with a wink: “Kipling’s If with slight assist by Bronner,” or “Longfellow’s Psalm of Life with slight assist by Bronner.” He wrote letters offering advice to every U.S. president and even attempted to reach some of them by phone.
Grandpa was also fond of inflating his age as a kind of boast. When asked why he claimed to be older than he actually was, he replied simply, “Because I’m in great shape for a 72 year old.”
Further reading
- How the Label Was Born
- ALL-ONE: Lisa Bronner “The Man I Called Grandpa”
- The Five Soapmaking Locations of Bronner Family Soaps
- Soap & Soul Historical Photos