Sightlines: Remembering the Final Goodbye and My Unforgettable Mom

Sightlines: Remembering the Final Goodbye and My Unforgettable Mom

By Lynn Venhaus

“To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.” –Thomas Campbell.

On this day 23 years ago, we said our final goodbye to our mother, who was three weeks from turning 71.

I know you flew on angels’ wings, Mom, and I know you made your mark on Earth – Rosemary Zierrath Zipfel, July 28, 1930 – July 7, 2001, while you were here. I hope to always be reminded of your sunny optimism in the face of great adversity

To watch someone die from lung cancer is a horrible thing, and we had been with her at Barnes for a month. We knew we had to let go, she wasn’t ever coming back to be that sweet, smiling, devoted woman who had an incredible heart and work ethic, who sacrificed a lot for her five children.

And with Julie, Mike, Matt, Mary Clare and I in the room, she opened her eyes, smiled at us, and died.

She had been unresponsive for days, and on July 4, the chaplain said gather your family. So we scrambled to get that in motion while all around us were fireworks and celebrations.

Losing anyone is tough, but losing your anchor, your rock, your family center, is a very tough transition.

They called her age group the Greatest Generation. And she was! Rosie the Riveter in the flesh. She was born on the hottest day of 1930 during the Great Depression, the firstborn daughter of Lorraine C. and Eleanor Taylor Zierrath in East St. Louis, Ill. It was 108 degrees.

Mom, expecting Julie, flanked by her parents, sister Judy and princess me, in Indiana 1957.

Among her greatest attributes, besides being a devoted big sister to brother Charlie and sister Judy, was her belief that family was everything. She was there for everybody. She never knew a stranger.

I was born after my parents’ biggest heartbreak, their first baby, a daughter Claire, died three days after birth in Kodiak, Alaska. My dad was stationed there in the U.S. Navy, Mom said they never even saw her — doctor said it was for the best. She was born with a tumor on her spine. Can you imagine, being 22-23 years old, losing your child, and being so far away from your loved ones? This was 1953.

When my dad was discharged, they moved back to where their parents lived, in Belleville, Ill. Due to my dad’s business work, we moved around soon after I was born in 1954, to Nashville, Tenn., Muskegon, Mich., Richmond, Ind., and Dayton, Ohio, all before I was 5. Julie and Mike were born in Indiana. Matt and Mary Clare would arrive after we moved back to Belleville in 1960.

My parents divorced when I was 7 years old, and we moved in with my maternal grandparents. Rose was a single mom when that was scarce, especially in a Catholic family. What courage! Besides helping take care of my siblings, I withdrew into books, movies and music — they became my salvation.

The Zipfel kids with Mom — Mike, Mary, Mom, Julie, Lynn and Matt, 1985.

I am sure as a nerdy bookworm growing up I exasperated her – I know I did. She was always trying to get me outside when I just wanted to finish my Nancy Drew book after a quick bike ride. My brothers spent their summer days on a neighbor’s sandlot while we girls helped with chores. She signed me up for two weeks at a stay-over summer camp in the Shawnee National Forest, without asking, and all three times were disasters. (You think I exaggerate? Family lore insists not).

And then I was this awkward, overly dramatic teenager who found my tribe going to speech meets and play practice while everyone else in the fam was playing on sports teams. She accepted me when I know she didn’t understand me, her oldest that she relied on to help with her four other kids.

But she was the one who guided me into journalism. She thought that best suited my skills, and told my teacher. “Your Mom says you want to be a journalist,” the nun told me. I was 13, it was 1968, and the world was literally on fire – upheaval and cataclysmic events. That is when I discovered my nose for news. That was my direction. Thanks, Mom.

Without my Mom’s encouragement, it wouldn’t have sparked an interest so early. That was a male-dominated field, and she was nonplussed ” “You can do it.”

I have written about her many, many times – her bravery, her compassion, her thoughtfulness, and her resilience.

And she firmly believed we girls could do anything we put our minds to. You want to go to college? We will make that happen. I was the first person to graduate from college in my family. All of my siblings earned degrees, with her support.

So supportive to everyone, she always made you feel better. It would have been easy to listen to naysayers, and take no for an answer, but that was not Rose. She didn’t give up until she was forced to, and she would not let that defeat her. There were times when I am sure she wanted to throw a pity party for herself, but she just kept going.

We lost a lot that Saturday 23 years ago. But we gained perspective on what it means to have had a spectacular role model, how to live an exemplary life, and that you can indeed live on in the hearts you leave behind.

Mom with grandsons Tommy Davis, Charlie Venhaus and Tim Venhaus, circa 1990.

Lord, I miss her laugh.

I miss picking up the phone and saying hey.

I miss celebrating special occasions with her.

I miss asking her advice. “How do you get past heartache and setbacks and overcoming self-doubts and trauma?”

I can still hear her soothing words ringing in my head. And yes, most of the time she was right! Moms always know the right thing to say.

She was nice and polite — but she was tough as nails. Do not dismiss or condescend or patronize. Test her at your peril.

She summoned the strength of suffragettes, and the wisdom of someone who learned from all the hard knocks that tried to take her down, and to survive and thrive against all odds. The world seems to want to beat you down, but she would rather help people up and they helped her.

To watch her in motion was to marvel at her abilities – How she kept finding joy in the small pleasures of life, and how she never stopped.

She always found something to smile about, and I will never forget that, Mom.

Daughters Lynn, Julie and Mary, with Mom, at Mary’s bridal shower in 1987.

She loved movies. My fondest childhood memories are staying up late with her on Saturday nights and watching classic black-and-white films.

She let me stay up to watch the Oscars in 1963. I was 8. It was on Monday nights back then. She never missed this telecast. Of course I fell asleep before it was over but I remember how glamorous it all was, and Gregory Peck winning for To Kill a Mockingbird. There must have been a commercial for Hitchcock’s “The Birds,” which came out around then, because I remember being terrified when I saw the school kids running and birds attacking them!

Here’s to you, Mom, for sharing your love of the cinema with me and taking us to the Skyview Drive-In on warm summer nights – because with 5 kids, that’s how we could afford movies in those days!

Perhaps her greatest legacy was her sense of family. She believed that we were mightier together, and forged a strong bond so that we could tackle our struggles together, and enjoy each other. Not that we were the model of one big happy family because, like all families, there were rough patches. But, she allowed us to be individuals and appreciated our differences. Nevertheless, we were one for all and all for one. Family First.

Anyone who was ever at our house growing up — 9 people in a tiny frame house on Belleville’s west end — knows how boisterous and lively the place was.

Mom and BFF Donna Finch.

She loved to grab her coffee and cigarettes, and shoot the breeze. She and her best bud Donna Finch, a neighbor, would sit on the screened-in porch and call it the best Saturday night.

Love and miss you always. I know I stand on the shoulders of giants, you and grandma included.

I hope my knuckle-headed brothers and my Timmy are good company for you in “The Good Place.” And Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Charlie and Aunt Shirley are telling funny stories.

Your memory will continue to bless us all. Thank you for being such an unforgettable spirit. You live in all of us.

Mom, holding Julie and pregnant with Mike, and her mom, aka “Mims,” and me.

Cover photo: Mom, center, with some teenage friends.

Sightlines: Remembering My Sundance Volunteer Experience

Sightlines: Remembering My Sundance Volunteer Experience

By Lynn Venhaus

At the 27th Annual Sundance Film Festival, my two sons, Tim and Charlie, and I, were accepted as ushers for the fest. We had never been. They stayed for the duration, I was only there for a week. Tim called it the greatest time of his life — he saw 23 movies in 11 days, worked those screenings around his volunteer shifts. We look back on that time fondly. We were asked back – that doesn’t always happen, so we were grateful. But Charlie had moved to New York City two weeks after Sundance and began a career in advertising, and Tim returned to school to obtain a bachelor’s degree in cinema production. We’ve kept up with friends we made there, and are grateful we had that experience. I told Tim that I wanted to go back when he had a film accepted there — and that was a fun goal, but that dream died when he did, in 2018. I can go back as a film journalist. Just don’t know if I will. Here are my thoughts from that time — I wrote a blog for the Belleville News-Democrat website on that time, brought my laptop to the volunteer lounge to put my thoughts together every day. This is the first one. I hope I can find the others, but this is a good start that encapsulates the first few days.

DATELINE: SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL, DAY ONE

Opening Night, Jan. 20, 2011

Italian director and fellow Sundance rookie Roberta Torre sat next to me on the shuttle as we looped around snow-covered but well-manicured Park City, Utah, late Thursday night. Her first submission for the World Cinema Dramatic Competition, “Lost Kisses,” would screen Friday.

Her previous work – a musical on the Mafia – had been at Venice and Cannes, but as Sundance is synonymous with risk-taking and exciting emerging filmmakers, this satire focusing on a 13-year-old girl’s vision and a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary is one of 115 features that will be screened during the 10-day festival. (Update: Her film was a Grand Jury Prize nominee).

Every January, this old silver mining town in the shadow of the Rockies becomes a mecca for movie lovers from around the globe and the epicenter of the entertainment business. Lives change overnight – filmmakers fortunate to strike a chord with a Hollywood mogul in the audience can depart with a multi-million deal. Ever hear of “Little Miss Sunshine” and “Reservoir Dogs”? Household names and unknowns with a dream vie to be the toast of the town.

But the ideals on which the festival began hold true today. Robert Redford, president and founder of the Sundance Institute, summed it up this way in our program:

I’ve always believed that our best chance to understand the world around us comes in the form of stories and, in particular, stories that represent a unique perspective and are told with an authentic voice. So my first and continued hope for the Sundance Film Festival is the same: to provide a vital platform for these kinds of stories and a community for these kinds of artists. And because a film is not complete until it finds its audience, the film lovers who join our community each January are key to making this platform vital.”

Then he told us to be careful crossing the streets.

The local newspaper referred to the fest as “controlled chaos” and residents say it’s their shot to ski without any lines at the three nearby resorts.

Charlie, Tim and Lynn Venhaus


But it’s unlike anything I’ve experienced. This year, my two sons and I are working as ushers.

We’re among the 1,670 volunteers who help make this the premier fest in the U.S. celebrating independent cinema. Upon our arrive from Salt Lake City, we were handed hats, scarves, gloves, water bottles, transit maps, grub stubs (free food at designated restaurants), movie ticket vouchers, credentials, and thick film guides.

Since our selection the first week of December, we’ve been training online, and now have the hands-on details.

Everyone has been so incredibly helpful and friendly, from helping us navigate the free bus routes to advice on drinking lots of water. And those who are in charge are supremely organized.  It’s a marvel to observe how it all comes together.

Besides a full-time year-round staff, the festival relies on volunteers for a multitude of tasks. Every fall, 3,000 apply, they fill the slots with returning volunteers first, then pick newbies for remaining slots.

We met interesting folks from around the world at our volunteer kick-off party – an Australian bartender, a student from Brazil, a Spanish filmmaker who’s on our theatre team, an aspiring actress from L.A., a Kentucky housewife, a bus driver from Canada, a Cornell grad who runs an event-planning business, an Oregon artist, and a former St. Louisan who never comes back.

Six of 10 volunteers are from Utah. They sure love their state. What’s not to love about the clean, crisp air and wide-open spaces with breathtakingly gorgeous views of the mountains? Park City is 800 feet higher elevation than Salt Lake City, so the weather pattern in the valley is totally separate.

We’re all here for various reasons but we have at least one thing in common: We love movies. To show their appreciation, the festival staff screened the comedy “Submarine” strictly for us volunteers Thursday night. We were jam-packed into the theater, and you could have heard a pin drop – everyone was enthralled. And most everyone stayed in their seats after applauding to read the credits.

The welcoming programmer spoke of the feeling of ‘community’ every year at the fest, and you sense a strong cool vibe too, but it is comparable to a summer camp or old home week – old friends connecting.

What a delightful movie to start the fest with (more on that later), but we will be hearing about this charming, clever coming-of-age tale. Remember the protagonist’s name: Craig Roberts.

The movies that create the biggest buzz here probably won’t arrive in St. Louis until the summer or fall – if past years are any indication.

Last year’s Sundance introduced St. Louisan Davis Guggenheim’s “Waiting for Superman,” which is now considered a leading contender in the Oscar category for best documentary.

And the dramatic jury prize winner “Winter’s Bone” has received numerous nominations and year-end critics’ awards.

The major (and minor) celebrities supposedly arrive on the weekend, and Main Street becomes this wall-to-wall place to be seen.

And if that’s not enough excitement, trying to spot James Franco or Demi Moore, the Westboro Church based in Topeka, Kansas, plans to protest Kevin Smith’s new horror film “Red State,” starring John Goodman, on Saturday afternoon.

A ruggedly handsome lad working at the lodge where volunteers got their groove on Wednesday night told me: “Get ready for an incredible journey.”

Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

Sightlines: My All-Time Favorite, Robert Redford, at 85

Sightlines: My All-Time Favorite, Robert Redford, at 85

By Lynn Venhaus
Actor-filmmaker-founder of Sundance Film Institute Robert Redford turned 85 today! (Aug. 18).

He has been a major part of my film-going life, first as an actor, then making smart movies, and then deciding storytelling would be his life’s work through honoring independent films in Utah.

“Storytellers broaden our minds: engage, provoke, inspire, and ultimately, connect us,” he once said.

He has changed the film industry and changed lives.

Early on, he broke the mold in Hollywood and carved out a career on his own terms, living far from the celebrity life in Utah, raising a family and becoming an environmental activist.

He turned the perception of a ‘golden boy’ into an exploration of culture and society’s roles/expectations. (His movie, “Quiz Show” is rarely mentioned, but go back, and what he says about the American Dream — great work by Ralph Fiennes and John Turturro).

My sister Julie and I rushed to every one of his film openings in the 1970s after “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” (when I was in high school), then hit after hit — “The Sting,” “The Way We Were,” “Three Days of the Condor,” “The Candidate” and “Jeremiah Johnson,” among them.

He was born to play the tortured hero Jay in “The Great Gatsby,” starring opposite Mia Farrow in the 1974 adaptation that did not measure up to expectations.

My boys used to give me DVDs of his work for Mother’s Days (and paired “The Natural” one time with “Serial Mom” — yep, that’s my John Waters’ loving son Tim’s idea of humor).

Hubbell Gardiner in “The Way We Were”

He gave us the definitive investigative journalism movie “All the President’s Men,” one of my all-time favorites and inspirations, explaining how the press changed the course of history in our country’s politics.

For his only competitive Oscar, he turned the bestselling book “Ordinary People” into an honest and painful study on families and grief in 1980.

I watched it again a couple months ago, and wow, does it resonate. Mary Tyler Moore, Donald Sutherland and Timothy Hutton turn in some of their finest work. I will argue its value to anyone who wants to fight me on this.

His intelligence behind the baby blues, his sharp observations on human behavior — obvious early on in a remarkable filmography.

He only works sparingly in front of the camera these days, but I think he still has it – particularly in “The Old Man and the Gun” with Sissy Spacek,” “A Walk in the Woods” with Nick Nolte, and his solo tour de force “All is Lost.”

Robert Redford and Paul Newman

He has never been afraid to be a flawed anti-hero (“Downhill Racer”) or an all-out bad guy (spoiler alert: “Captain America: The Winter Soldier.”)

The on-screen pairings have been high points — so memorable as Denys with Meryl Streep in “Out of Africa.”

A good move was working with Brad Pitt in “Spy Game,” and he coaxed a career-best performance (at the time) from Pitt in “A River Runs Through It,” which he directed and narrated.

Of course, the pinnacle was his work with Paul Newman, and thus, the buddy movie was born.

And three films with Jane Fonda, They both started out on stage in the late 1950s and worked early together on film when he reprised his role as Paul in “Barefoot in the Park.” Then, reunited in “The Electric Horseman” in 1979 and “Our Souls at Night” in 2017.

In the Natalie Wood documentary, “What Remains Behind,” he is one of the commentators and remained a close friend, after they made two films together (“Inside Daisy Clover” and “This Property is Condemned” in the ’60s), before he exploded as a superstar. She, in turn, showed up in a cameo in “The Candidate.”

Roy Hobbs in “The Natural”

For a while in the 1990s, he experienced a screen ‘renaissance’ — “The Horse Whisperer,” “Indecent Proposal,” “Up Close and Personal” and “Sneakers.”

He will always be Hubbell Gardiner and Roy Hobbs to me, masterful screen portraits of complicated guys.

Cases in point:
Hubbell’s college writing: “In a way he was like the country he lived in — everything came to easily to him. But at least he knew it.

“Roy in hospital: “God, I love baseball.”
“There goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game.”

Meryl’s Karen in “Out of Africa”: “When the gods want to punish you, they answer your prayers.”

And this:(Robert Redford) “You’ve ruined it for me, you know.”(Meryl Streep) “Ruined what?”(Robert Redford) “Being alone.”

You see all these being said, don’t you?

And of course, the “Be a Beacon” speech in “Sneakers.”
https://youtu.be/2q2iQC-4wbA

What great timing!

Thank you, Mr. Redford, for the memories and your lasting impact.

(On a Related Note: In January 2011, my two sons and I made the cut to be volunteer ushers at the Sundance Film Festival. It was a highlight of my life, and sharing it with my movie-loving boys was very special. Tim described it as the greatest two weeks of his life, and he saw something like 23-24 movies in 11 days).

Charlie, Lynn and Tim Venhaus, Sundance 2011

Thank-You Note from Managing Editor Lynn Venhaus

Thank-You Note from Managing Editor Lynn Venhaus

Dear Readers,
I must take a moment to thank the St. Louis Theater Community for their outpouring of love and kindness regarding the loss of my first-born son, Tim Venhaus, who died on Dec. 9.
He had just turned 34 and was on trimester break from DePaul University in Chicago, where he was working on an MFA in Screenwriting.
While this is a tremendous and painful loss, my youngest son Charlie and I are comforted by all the condolences, notes, cards, calls, attendance at visitation and/or funeral Mass, the flowers sent, the food dropped off and all the hugs.
The heartfelt support has been gratifying — and we are touched by your caring and concern. My fellow critics in the St. Louis Theater Circle, Arts For Life board of directors and Theater Recognition Guild judges, writing pals (including my review team here), and many actors, directors and producers in professional regional theater and community theater have expressed themselves so beautifully and eloquently.

So have my colleagues in St. Louis Film Critics Association, friends in Cinema St. Louis, radio folks, past and present staffers at Belleville News-Democrat, and SIUE faculty, staff and students in the mass communication department (I teach “Writing for the Media”). You always remember who reaches out because it means so much.
The grief has been overwhelming, and his sudden and unexpected passing has shocked us to our core. My year was already like a bad Lifetime movie, as I have a terminally ill brother, helping out an 86-year-old uncle with a myriad of things, like cancer treatments, and a super-crazy-busy schedule that I juggle with some percentage of success.
I appreciate your understanding and patience. I am slowly going to ease back into working. I must re-learn how to be normal again, and return to a regular routine. Please bear with me while I get a whole bunch of reviews and articles, like Take Ten, up — there is a backlog that I will be posting in the next two weeks, plus Go See a Play and Bright Lights. Some of it might not be so timely, but I want to get it all up.
I’ll be publishing my year-end “LOTTIES” (Lynn’s Love of Theater Awards), plus a special twist. Our Theater Circle ballots are due first week of January, and save the date for our awards, Monday, March 25, at the Loretto-Hilton Center. So much good theater this year! Our AFL Nominations will be announced at the annual Trivia Night on Friday, Feb, 1, with emcee Ryan Cooper, at St.Joseph’s Parish Center in Manchester.
Tim was a one-of-a-kind creative, talented writer, hilarious human, adventurous soul, and fiercely devoted to his family and friends. He had a big heart, loved to laugh — and make people laugh — and, according to his vast circles, was an “influencer,” a thought leader. He was the guiding light for his friends regarding movies, music and TV.
Tim as a game show host in “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying”While he was a natural onstage, he was most at home in front of or behind a camera. From the time he was a little kid, he was making movies with his friends and relatives. He earned a B.A. in Cinema Production at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, with a minor in theater, and interned at “Sesame Street.” He previously received an Associate’s degree from Southwestern Illinois College, thriving in Dan Cross’s film program. It changed his life.
His comedy shorts were selected three times for the St. Louis Filmmakers Showcase, and he won the screenwriting contest at “Alt.News 26:46” at SIUC back-to-back, the first student to do that — and his films were shown on the PBS station, WSIU — “My Dad Lives in a Trunk” and “Watermelon Falls.” His film “Lunchbreak” won the Audience Award at a SWIC Film Fest.
He was in a few community theater productions — “Fiddler on the Roof,” “Guys and Dolls,” “South Pacific” and “West Side Story” – plus the lead in a youth show — at Clinton County Showcase; Chance in “Ghost of a Chance” and Slovitch the butcher in Neil Simon’s “Fools,” both at Monroe Actors Stage Company; and two small roles in “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” for Brass Rail Players at Lindenwood.
He mostly did the early musicals because he and his little brother loved to tag along to my rehearsals when I was involved in youth theater for the Breese Junior Women’s Club, and then community theater at CCShowcase. My boys did not get the musical comedy gene, nor could they sing a lick. But I could twist an arm if I needed some help.
He taught film-making to youths for two seasons at Summer Fenn in Concord, Mass., and at Nature’s Classroom, an outdoor environmental education program at 13 sites in New England, where he worked for spring and fall periods from 2005 to 2017. He was hired by a school district in Naperville to start a film-making program in January 2019.
Tim as an extra on “Everyday Magic” – he wound up on cutting room floorWhen he was interning at “Sesame Street,” he worked in the talent department and was in charge of taking care of the parents whose children were guest performers, and taking the kids to the stage, and sometimes, the guest stars. For his first cousin Nick’s two young children, Tim enlisted Abby Cadabby to record a Christmas greeting. It is posted below.
Tim sure made his mark in his 34 years. People came from near and far — all over the country — to pay their respects. The love was overflowing. So were the stories.
Hope you are able to enjoy a merry Christmas and best wishes for a happy new year. Covering theater has enriched my life, and reminded me that sharing our humanity through art is a wonderful connection to encourage.
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” — Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
I am going to miss my goofball every day of the rest of my life. He was a wonderful son. It does not seem real that I have to talk about him in the past tense. Like so many other relationships he cultivated, we had a special bond. He will never be forgotten, and I am so blessed to have so many people in my corner. I can’t thank you enough.
Regards,
Lynn Venhaus
Managing Editor 2018
lynnvenhaus@gmail.com
618-917-8175