A few weeks ago, we were honored to have a dedication of the Chuck and Kathleen Mullenweg Peace and Reflection Garden at Houston’s Rothko Chapel. I was asked to bring remarks just a few days before the event, and broke out in a cold sweat. Public speaking is not my forte. Well if you ask me to speak, you’re going to get a talk on history, genealogy, domesticated mammals, or books. I chose genealogy.
It ended up going well, despite the cruel November heat (this is Houston, after all). It was rather an idyllic setting; though I’ve increased my public speaking a good deal lately, I’ve never done so surrounded by monarch butterflies and dragonflies. I found myself wondering (through my incipient sun stroke) if they were going to start arranging my hair like I was a Disney princess. I did appreciate as an amateur apiarist that they had made this garden to attract pollinators. Save the pollinators, save the world. 🦋 🐝 🌎
Matt told me that he wanted me to post my speech here, so here I am breaking my <checks logs> 13-year hiatus to do so. It is short, but I was only given two minutes to speak. Merry Christmas, BB 💚.
I’m sorry it took me a minute to get up here [to the podium], I thought I was going to stick to my chair. [General laughter. A Southwest Airlines plane flew noisily overhead just as I started speaking, so I waited for it to pass] Thanks Southwest.
As a genealogist, I examine how people are influenced by their communities and environments across generations. For our family, Houston has been a place of refuge, peace, and community.
The first Louis Charles Mullenweg – our father was the fourth – arrived here with his mother in early 1854 after a bakery fire in Navasota killed his father. Ten years later, the family bought two square blocks of the W. R. Baker addition to Houston, near Washington Avenue. The family and their descendants lived in the area for one hundred years, working for the Houston and Texas Central Railroad. Over a dozen of these Mullenweg family members rest in peace at the Washington Cemetery, far from the wars and depredations that drove them to Texas.
Our mother’s family, the Hageneys, fled Ireland’s Great Famine and immigrated to the shores of Lake Erie. Her great-grandfather soon found work as an engineer for the railroads, designing many devices that are still in use today. Her grandfather worked for the Office of the Postmaster General and was transferred to Houston in the late 1920s. From the number of family members that followed them south, I believe that Houston was where they found refuge from the bone-cold and sideways snow that bombarded their first home.
Although this chapel didn’t exist when either side of our family arrived, it was certainly in place when I attended the University of St. Thomas. I spent many an afternoon in the sun-dappled peace of these grounds, studying, learning lines or music, and reading without the constant interruptions of a certain eight-year-old brother at home. I wish I could say that the peace and inspiration gained here catapulted me to a college degree, but alas, I was not yet ready to take my education seriously.
What this sacred place taught me was the value of shared spaces and art, and the precious importance of finding a center – an eye in the storm of daily life – just as both sides of our family did by moving to Houston. It is an honor to dedicate this garden to my parents as a symbol of their love for each other, the arts, and this city. I sincerely hope that these beautiful gardens and groves will continue to inspire all Houstonians to find peace, refuge, and a sense of community here in our beloved city. Thank you.
If you want to read my brother’s remarks, you can do so on his blog here.
Side note: this is my first time using blocks on my own site. This is kind of cool!
website called 
Charleen's Chateau 