Obituary of Frances Regen

Frances Regen (May 25, 1930 – February 9, 2017) “Practical.” “Level-headed.” “Someone to turn to for sound advice.” That’s how friends and family remember Fran. She was a great listener and sympathetic soul with useful suggestions at the ready. She was also an intelligent, determined woman, and once she set her mind to a goal, stuck with it. This determination was the key to her success professionally and personally, and it was her legacy. Fran was born in Brooklyn and raised in a humble row house in Bensonhurst, the second of Isadore and Bertha Swotinsky’s three children, and their only daughter. Times were hard. Izzy was a tailor who took in women’s coats and slipcovers to sew in the basement. Bertha was a homemaker. So Fran went to work at fourteen, commuting to downtown Manhattan after school to a job at an undergarments shop fitting ladies for girdles. She was expected to continue supporting the family after graduation, but she wanted to go to college. It was her older brother Jack who convinced Bertha to allow his sister to pursue higher education. Fran earned her Bachelor’s degree at Brooklyn College and afterwards took great inner pride in working as an insurance agent for Liberty Mutual. It was on a trip upstate to Green Mansions resort in the Adirondacks with girlfriends that she met Al Regen, a young industrial engineer and fellow Brooklynite taking time out with college friends. Al’s parents also had Eastern European roots, but were American born. He was tall and boisterous, qualities she was looking for in a mate because her family was full of short, quiet people. Al would vigorously pursue Fran back in Brooklyn, taking her out to eat – an extravagant new experience for this daughter of immigrants. Al came to woo her at home, too, encouraged by Bertha’s honey cake. Fran and Al were married on Valentine’s Day in 1954 in Brooklyn by a rabbi who got Al’s name wrong. In early married life, Fran put aside the impractical insurance career in favor of elementary school teaching, more compatible with starting a family. Fran returned to Brooklyn College for a Master’s degree in Education and started her new career in New York City schools, sensibly timing the birth of a son in May to the end of the school year. Two years later, the May birth of a daughter followed. Thanks to Fran’s contribution to the family finances, they were able to move from a two-family house in Queens to a stately white Colonial with olive-green shutters in West Hartford, Connecticut. There, Fran made a garden in the backyard so Chester and Karen could experience what it was like to pull fresh carrots from the ground and pluck pea pods from the plants. She planted bright daffodils in the yard and filled her home with love. Harry Belafonte sang “Day-O,” and Richard Kiley, playing Don Quixote, belted out “Dulcinea” and “The Impossible Dream.” Fran had good relationships with her neighbors; and close, meaningful relationships with friends and family, especially Jack and Arthur, her sisters-in-law Anita and Marlene, and her nephews Mark, Robert and Glenn, and nieces Lisa, Amy and Debbie. When it was clear that her plan for tall, extroverted children would not be realized, ever-practical Fran put it behind her and moved on. A new career in insurance sales for Al relocated the family to East Brunswick, New Jersey where Al began introducing himself to new acquaintances as Arthur or Art – and was later known by family and close friends as Artie or Al-a-roo -- but Fran was always Fran. She achieved board certification to teach in New Jersey, leading to a 25-year career in South Brunswick Township educating second and third graders, and developing her own math and reading materials. She made a lovely new home for her family, testing out the latest recipes like Hawaiian Chicken, Waldorf Salad and Baked Alaska, modifying these according to health trends. She welcomed pets whether they were tropical fish contained in tanks or gerbils that frequently escaped. She was gentle with the family dog -- a beagle mix named Ginger – who bayed at the moon, and later with a large calico cat named Neko-chan that was never her idea. In her free time, she earned trophies at bowling and tennis - playing a fierce game of singles and doubles well into later life. She enjoyed having the ladies over for Bridge. She was a voracious reader of good literature with feminist leanings. When the children left home she held season tickets with Art and friends at The George Street Playhouse and the McCarter Theater. She especially enjoyed Chekov and Arthur Miller. With the birth of her first grandchild, she retired from teaching to find new purpose in life. She showered Helaina and Andrew with love and attention, and instilled a passion for learning and the ability -- through the early introduction to Legos -- to precociously assemble IKEA furniture. She welcomed Zoe and Isaiah, and treated them with warmth and affection, making their favorite dishes and remembering every birthday. She traveled widely, visiting Vancouver and Prince Edward’s Island, Jamaica, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy and Japan. Toward the end of her life, she continued to define herself as a discerning reader, keeping up with novels recommended by the New York Times, a newspaper that kicked off each day. She and Al were blessed with lifelong friends among them Myrna and Marvin Schaffman, Eleanor and Sheldon Halpern, Arleen and Norman Uroff, Isadora and Marvin Kornbluh, June and Barry Walker, and Sally and Lenny Leibowitz. Fran is survived by her daughter Karen, her son Chester, their spouses Walter and Maria, and their grandchildren Helaina and Andrew, and Zoe and Isaiah. She is also survived by brothers Jack and Arthur, and their wives Anita and Marlene, as well as nephews Mark, Robert (and Michelle), nieces Lisa (and Dale), Amy, and Debbie (and Eddie) and grandnieces and grandnephews as well as cousins Phil Gisser and Edith Held.