September, 1989
He was named Emil after his maternal grandfather and August after his paternal grandfather. He was My Daddy to me or Uncle Doc to the relatives, or Waldo to my Mother. He was born on March 27, 1893 in Nauvoo, Illinois, a small town on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. His mother Minnie Beger lived there her entire lifetime except for her first two years of marriage when she lived in Green Bay (near Wever) Iowa. Daddy had two older sisters Valeria (Radel) and Sylvia (Martin), and a younger sister Thaya (my favorite.) His father, a vintner, died when Daddy was a small boy.
The following is family hearsay, but probably fairly accurate. Dad was a shy child. One time his older sister Valeria, a school teacher, took him to the school picnic. No one offered him any of the chicken etc.at the other end of the table -so he just ate the apple pies which were in front of him! He told me that as a little boy he used to look down the open heat vent when Valeria entertained a boyfriend….on Halloween he and his teenage friends used to go around knocking down “outhouses” ……he drove his fiancé around and around the small main street of Nauvoo to impress her with its size…he skipped 7th and 8th grades by taking the high school test and passing.
While attending St. Louis School of Dentistry. Dad lived in St. Louis at his Aunt Josie’s house. (She’s the Aunt who used to praise whatever food she brought to the family get togethers, for example. “Isn’t the sauerkraut excellent?”
Dad earned his way through Dental School by working as a night bellman at the Missouri Athletic Club. He graduated at the age of twenty and had to receive special permission to be licensed by the state at that young age.
He began his practice of Dentistry in Nauvoo, Ill on its only main street above the bank building. He was the only dentist for the small town and surrounding farm areas. He started the first movie theater in town; built his (radio) crystal set, even built a chicken house at the wish of his mother, and played on a young men’s baseball team. In his home town, he was an important, aggressive businessman, In my childhood he worked very little with his hands. His excuse was that his hands were our livelihood and he could not chance injuring them.
Because he had to support his widowed mother, he was deferred from WWI but near the end of the war joined the army cavalry as a 2nd Lieutenant. After the war, Dad returned to his dental practice. When it became apparent that mothers were afraid to send their young daughters to such a handsome young dentist, marriage became a necessity. A fellow dentist in St. Louis, Dr. Norris, had a patient, also in her mid twenties, so he arranged a date for Waldo and Ruth. I guess both were ready for marriage My mother loved to tell the story of her first visit to Nauvoo. Dad drove her around the two blocks of the little town approximately eight times at nightfall. So Ruth, my mother, thought well maybe it wouldn’t be too small a place to live after the big city of St. Louis!
They were married Feb. 8, 1921. The Nauvoo family homestead was divided into two units: one for his Mom and sister Sylvia and the other for the new Mr. and Mrs. Krueger. My brother Richard (named after his paternal grandfather Maximillian Richard Krueger) and I were born there. But my mother never got used to the small town atmosphere. One day she was learning to drive the car and drove right through the back of the garage. Her mother-in-law (Mama Minnie) said, “Don’t worry Ruth we’ll get a hammer and fix it.” Well, when Daddy came home, he called the ladies outside and said, “Isn’t the garage leaning?” (Someone had observed the accident and proceeded to tell Doc when he saw him in his office.)
Mother persuaded my Dad to move to St. Louis. He bought a dental practice at 4600 Maryland at Euclid with a view of the Park Plaza Hotel. Also Dad was to have taught at St. Louis Dental School, but the depression changed that. My mother was much happier near her sister in the big city, but I think my Dad would have been better off being a Big Fish in the little pond of Nauvoo.
My Dad loved to play and watch sports. Baseball and hockey were his favorites. He enjoyed gardening and picnicking. His tomato patch was award winning as were his flower gardens. He tried to teach me, but I never caught the green thumb. He never drank hard liquor because of a promise made to his mother, My Dad was a great story teller and often read books to me, especially during times when I was ill and in bed.
His favorite holiday toast:
Here’s to you as good as you are and here’s to me as bad as I am.
For as good as you are and as bad as I am,
I am as good as you are as bad as I am.
Dad was a quiet, shy man, a very poor business man, an expert at making dentures. In fact when my mother needed dentures Dad did the unbelievable – he used her good teeth to make her false teeth. Horse racing was another sport he enjoyed. During the empty nest years, Mother also went with him to the race track in Cahokia, Ill. During their annual Christmas visits to their grandchildren, Dad would bring his Santa Anita money. He spent his weekdays busing to the track. We always laugh about their first visit to LA when we started in San Francisco and visited all the missions for Mother and all the race tracks for Dad, ending with Mission San Diego and Caliente race track in Mexico!
Although baptized a Lutheran, we called Dad a taxi Catholic. He drove mother to church for Sunday mass, confession, missions, and other weekly adorations. He even attended mass with the family on Christmas and Easter. He listened to our catechism lessons and paid to send us to parochial schools. Richard attended St. Roch’s and Little Flower grade school, Christian Brothers College Prep (a military school) and St. Louis University where he majored in economics. I attended Little Flower, Ursuline Academy, and Webster College. He teased us about the Latin chants. ” Dominus vobiscum” became “Dominic go frisk ’em” and “What did they do with the incense pot? They put it outside; it was too damn hot!”
After his death in St. Louis and his burial in Holy Cross cemetery in West LA, I just know St. Peter let him drive right on in to Heaven.
Elaine's Memoirs 