Westward. Encounters with Swiss American Women

At eleven years of age, from one day to the next, Margot had to learn to be independent. “In 1930, my mother was operated for breast cancer. However the cancer had already spread. Mother never complained. I somehow sensed the seriousness of her condition and remember praying for her recovery. After many weeks in the hospital, shortly before Christmas of 1933, she died. I reproached God, ‘When I prayed to You to let my mother get better, I did not mean for You to take her away from me.’ Her death was very hard for me to accept. Father was busy with his work at the Port Authority and often was in San Francisco as a consultant for the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge. A governess was engaged to manage the household, but she did not understand me, and my brothers were already independent and hardly had any time for me. During this sad time, in which I was very often alone, I lived in my own dreams and fantasies. I learned to think and discover my own interests. I collected stones and stamps. Dolls did not play any role in my life; the games of the neighborhood boys were more interesting.