Grandpa Irving, Control Mogul (April 21, 2006)

Irving at his home in Atherton

Irving, Eva and Michael

Nola and her cousin Joanne, Aimee Kesterson's daughter

Irving and Eva

Irving and Martha, his second wife

     Grandpa Irving probably arrived at birth kicking and screaming.  His parents, Harvey and Rose Kesterson, had three children: Florence, Ivan and Irving. Harvey and Rose were conservative Methodists, who didn’t allow card playing, drinking or dancing.  I’m sure Grandpa Irving always pushed their rules to the breaking point.

     Harvey and Rose lived in a large, orderly home in Grants Pass, Oregon.  They spent their lives in that town and were well respected by the other townsfolk.  My mother told me that Grandpa Harvey’s mother was an American Indian and his dad a Caucasian.  I have always been very proud of the fact that we have Native American blood coursing through our veins.

     I think Irving must have inherited the “wild Indian” blood. His sister, Florence, seems to have taken another large share of that blood.  She married seven times!  Husband number five or six was an athletic trainer forty years her junior.  Irving and Florence’s brother Ivan was the quiet, easy going “good” child that his parents had probably longed for.  My mother always had a special bond with Uncle Ivan.  He was stable, loyal to his family and easy to get along with.  Grandpa Irving was just the opposite.

     Irving Earnest Kesterson was born in 1891 or 1892.  Earnest was a good choice for a middle name.  He was earnest about everything.  Perhaps pushy is a better term.  He saw himself as a born leader.  He loved to be in charge of everything and everyone.  Harvey and Rose must have been tested daily as parents.  I’m sure Grandpa Irving started trying to tell them what to do at a very early age.

     When grown, Ivan and Irving started a very successful lumber business together.  I’m sure Grandpa Harvey and Grandma Rose hoped Ivan’s influence would rub off on Irving.  It didn’t.  In less than ten years Irving assured Ivan that the business needed to be run his way.  They split the business, but the personal parting was not amicable.  The brothers never spoke again for the rest of their lives. 

     Grandpa did very well financially with the lumber business.  When he left my Grandma Goldie and moved to California, he bought lots of property.  The price was right in the 1940s.  He moved to a luxurious home in Atherton, an exclusive neighborhood in the San Francisco Bay area.  Shirley Temple Black was one of his neighbors. 

     As a child I remember visiting his home on numerous occasions.  Grandpa would summon his three grown children to his house for family meetings so he could tell them what he wanted them to do.  My mother hated going but felt that someone needed to question Grandpa’s commands.  She was never afraid to tell him what she thought about anything.  He must have hated it, but he did respect her for standing on her own two feet. 

     I remember the first time we drove up to his home on Selby Lane.  There was an enormous circular drive in front of the house.  It seemed to me that the estate was situated in the exact center of this exclusive neighborhood.  The house looked like something from the movies, perhaps Tara from Gone with the Wind.  There were enormous white pillars across the front of the house.   A four-car garage with apartments above for the household help sat to the right of the house.  When we entered we found a glistening marble floor and a hugh winding stairway to the second floor.  The living room was as large as our whole house.  He had his own private study, a library room, a knitting room, an entertainment room, many bedrooms and bathrooms, and a kitchen the size of four average rooms.  He had every modern appliance and elegant furniture.  The backyard was the size of our city park.  There was an enormous bright green manicured lawn, surrounded by multiple varieties of beautiful bushes and large trees.  Beyond this section of the yard to the left of the house was a beautiful swimming pool, with a cabana for cocktails and partying at one end and a little house with an organ to play and games for the kids. 

     One of the most alarming things I noted was that there were always lots of strangers hanging around the pool and the house.  Even as a child it reminded me of a movie about rich folks surrounded by leaches.  It was a beautiful setting, but there was no comfortable feeling in that home.  I remember thinking then and still do to this day: If that’s what making a lot of money leads to, I am not interested.  Grandpa needed to control his friends as well as his family whenever possible.  He adopted my aunt’s children and put them in a private school in Menlo Park.  He told my mother that my brother and I needed to go there too.  My mother said: “No! They belong at home with their parents.”  That made me very happy. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we had a lot of uncontrolled love.   Grandpa Irving seemed to sacrifice love for control.