CHAPTER 3

Barbara Susan Siegel

Emanuel and Rose Siegel each grew up in New Jersey, just after the turn of the century. It also was where, after the couple was married, they chose to raise a family. In June of 1940, their first child, Elaine, was born. Then, a little less than three years later, they had a second daughter, Barbara Susan Siegel, born February 25, 1943, a Thursday.

Barbara grew up in the modest but comfortable suburb of Morristown, New Jersey, just three square miles and home to the Rabbinical College of America and surrounding synagogues. There, in the cocoon of a 1950s’ middle-class community, the Siegels lived a simple lifestyle, attending temple as a family on the Sabbath and going to school and synagogue events together. The Siegels were solid members of the conservative neighborhood as the couple raised their daughters in the cozy ’burbs of New Jersey.

The town’s neighborhoods were sprinkled with a variety of architecture: stately colonial, English Tudor, and Victorian. The Siegels’ small home, on a well-manicured street, was sparsely but nicely furnished. While from all accounts the family was not wealthy, Emanuel earned an honest, decent living working at a small jewelry store he owned and freelancing in the marketing field for local publications. The girls’ parents worked hard and provided well for their daughters, dressing them modestly while keeping up with most of the latest fashions; Barbara came to prefer trendy yet understated clothes and tasteful home furnishings.

At Morristown High School, where Barbara attended school, she was active in the dance club. She loved performing, and whatever Barbara wanted, her parents supported. If Barbara chose to perform, then her parents were behind her 100 percent. They trusted her judgment. That unwavering parental loyalty toward Barbara would be challenged years later.

In 1959, when Barbara was just sixteen, she won a talent contest, which, for a teenager from New Jersey, had an amazing grand prize: a recording contract with Capitol Records. The deal, however, fell through, and Barbara never cut the record. But that did not stop her from pursuing her dream. She loved entertaining, loved being on stage and the center of attention. She continued performing after high school at Barnard College, a women’s liberal arts school situated on the Columbia University campus, where she majored in art history. In 1961, while still a college student, she landed a dancing gig in an off-Broadway show in New York City. Everything was going as planned for Barbara. She still performed while working toward her college degree.

The component missing in Barbara’s well-choreographed life was romance and the companionship of a man. She had dated a few classmates, but no one had caught her eye. Then, the day came that forever changed her life: She met a young college student named George Kogan. He had moved to New York in the late 1950s to enroll at New York University. George attended a theater production in which Barbara performed, then went backstage and introduced himself.

At their first meeting they chatted a bit, and Barbara, who’d been studying the arts and literature, learned that George was a business major. But George too was interested in the arts, and each realized that they had many other interests in common. On the spot, George asked Barbara out on a date.

A few days later, he took her to dinner in the city. She was flattered that George, who was a couple years older, was interested. He was taken by her appearance—pretty, five foot five, with thick brown hair, strikingly large, dark greenish-brown eyes, and a curvy figure. Plus, she was soft-spoken with a seemingly gentle nature and carried herself with a certain confidence. George particularly liked Barbara’s easy smile and calm manner. Her quiet and sensible demeanor made her seem like she would be a life partner he could trust. Barbara, however, was not one to carry her heart on her sleeve, and the quietness about her at times was a cover for how she really felt inside. As part of a relatively new couple, George did not yet know that about Barbara.

George, an avuncular man with a shy but charming side, had a pleasant, boyish face. His likeable manner attracted Barbara. Best of all, George seemed to know what he wanted in life. She liked that about him. He seemed worldly to the somewhat sheltered Barbara. His business background impressed her as well. George, as a descendant of a notable, hard-working family, had since adolescence been exposed to the working world. His skill sets and business acumen, learned at his family’s department-store chain, would serve him well in the future. He’d learned from his father how to become a moneymaker. By the early 1960s, the family business was worth $40 million.

Barbara had no idea just how wealthy the family was, but she could tell by George’s gifts to her—pricey jewelry and expensive dinners—that he had money to spend. What Barbara also would not know until years later was that when she met George, he had been on a military deferment. As soon as he left school, the deferment would end, and he would automatically be eligible for the draft—unless he married. So, while George had not actively been looking to marry, it was at the back of his mind.

Soon, George and Barbara began spending more time together. Between classes, George would often meet Barbara on Barnard’s campus, located in the neighborhood of Morningside Heights along the west side of Broadway. They were comfortable with each other. During their courtship, they took in some of the city’s famous museums, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They shared a love of the arts and would eventually go on to sell paintings and other works together in their shops and galleries in both San Juan and New York City.

Besides art, they had other similar interests. Barbara had a knack when it came to business, thanks to the time she had spent helping out in her father’s jewelry store. They also shared a love of fine furnishings and the history surrounding those pieces. George had grown up in the opulent surrounds of Old San Juan, a small island connected to the rest of the city, and, while Barbara had more modest beginnings, she too learned to appreciate the finer things in life. It was the early sixties, several years before flower power, free love, anti-war activities, or political activism became a cultural force. Barbara’s desires were clear: a college education, a husband, and a family—in that order. Since Barbara was adamant about earning her bachelor’s degree, the couple remained in New York until she graduated. George, however, wasn’t as keen on his education as he was when he’d first entered college. He dropped out before finishing.

In 1964, three years after their chance meeting backstage at a Times Square theater, George and Barbara eloped to Virginia. Whether by design or not, by marrying, George had successfully dodged the draft. Barbara glowed and George beamed on their wedding day as they each repeated their vows to the justice of the peace who married them. They were excited about and focused on their future together, including building a family and a business. Both felt secure that their partnership as man and wife was off to an excellent start. After all, they wanted the same things. What could possibly go wrong?