My Father, Joseph Urban

GRETL URBAN
 

M;
 

■ y father, Joseph Urban (Buschi to me), was a very fortu¬
nate man: he lived and worked on two continents, during
. two eras, the likes of which we will not see again. He had a
great talent, an unlimited supply of new ideas, an immense capacity
for work, and the robust health this required. A warm-hearted and
outgoing human being, he was debonair and quiedy self-assured,
with a joyous inner contentment that communicated itself to other
people.

Vienna in his day was the Kaiserstadt, the glamorous gateway to the
orient, intellectual center of Europe, and rich capital ofthe vast Aus-
tro-Hungarian Empire, which was ruled over by Emperor Franz
Joseph I, scion of the ancient and fabulously wealthy House of
Hapsburg.

My earliest recollections of Buschi are of him at work in front of a
tall window in his bright, white atelier. He would be whistling beauti¬
fully, pretending he did not know I was there. Suddenly, he would
turn around with a grin and blow some thrilling, perfecdy round
smoke rings for me, and I was happy. When 1 began to read, I
delighted in his and Uncle Heinrich's lovely fairy tale illustrations,
which also formed a frieze around the walls of our playroom and
which have always been a part of my life.

At about this time, I decided that the jolly companion with whom
my sister, EUy, and I had so much fun could not be called "papa"; it
was all wrong, so I experimented to myself Bubi (little boy), Buberl,
Buscherl, and finally, Buschi. When 1 first called him that aloud,
mamma was shocked, but papa was amused and pleased, so "Bus¬
chi" he became and that is what Elly and I always called him.

Christmas was Buschi's favorite holiday, and we always celebrated
it, according to Viennese custom, on Christmas Eve. It was always a
great festival, because Buschi made it so by being his happiest and
most loving best, while enjoying the pleasure his lavish presents were