Erwin Smith McGee

Mary Gray McGee 1516 Missouri, Houston TX

Mary Gray McGee This is the official portrait which I just discovered in mother's scrapbook. I posted the "oops" picture with Erwin falling over earlier. 1954

Mary Gray McGee Christmas (?) 1954

Reagan Cartwright, Jr. The Sears and Mary Beth McGee, and the Reagan and Jean Cartwright families, always exchanged their annual Christmas photo cards, with each other.

Ruben Ruckman Summer vacation at the San Marcos River - from Alice

Ruben Ruckman

Alice McGee They were the babies, then the boys, then GeorgenErwin.

Ruben Ruckman Mama said that Erwin was miserable when we all were in school. That September birthday made him wait another year. He was not impressed with the preschool Valentine party. He wanted to go to real school. - story from Alice

Mary Gray McGee

Mary Gray McGee George and Erwin both moved to 2300 Quarry, Austin, Texas, with Mother and the newly elected Supreme Court Judge from Houston, Texas in January, 1969.

Alice McGee

Ruben Ruckman Caption reads "March for Survival, Bread not Bombs, April '82, Austin, 5000 people" Erwin is pushing Ernie and Ruben is in the other stroller. - from Bob Ruckman

Mary Gray McGee

Mary Gray McGee Everyone in town for Erwin and Kat's wedding. We assume Juliette was napping. December, 1984

Ruben Ruckman 1985?

Alice McGee Erwin with Albert and Hanna in backyard on Oakmont

Alice McGee Erwin and Juliette on the beach in Texas, 1988

Glenn Emigh

Mary Gray McGee 1993 at Corpus Christi. Bethany remembers really bonding with Albert for the first time on this trip and the song they made up: “I’m just an angel-Albert-rat-tatty in the sky”

Glenn Emigh Its about 1993. Time for Erwin to start teaching Aiyana Bridge.

Glenn Emigh Kat, Albert, Erwin

Glenn Emigh Claire, Erwin, Aiyana

Mary Gray McGee Smoking & skiing, plus dress up with Bethany and Juliette - trip to Santa Fe 1996

Alice McGee More Bridge

Hanna Ruckman I took this photo of Erwin during one of my annual summer vacations in high school to camp “Kitty Kat.” Many of my fondest memories growing up were my summers spent with Albert, Kat, and Erwin.

Mary Gray McGee 1998- Ski Santa Fe

Hanna Ruckman

Hanna Ruckman Taking the Port Aransas Ferry for a beach trip

Mary Gray McGee 1999

Mary Gray McGee 1999- the float in which Erwin lost his car keys in the river so we had to go for lunch in our bathing suits

Ruben Ruckman Erwin "holding court" at my college graduation party, hosted by Sears and Marni

Ernie Ruckman Christmas visit with Uncle Erwin

Ruben Ruckman At Alice and Colleen's house in California.

Ruben Ruckman Doing dishes at Alice and Colleen's house

Alice McGee Claude and Eriko's wedding reception in the park in Santa Barbara.

Mary Gray McGee All six of us gathered at the Renaissance for the Judge's Memorial, August 2006

Mary Gray McGee 2008

Liz Min

George Vance McGee This is the last time I personally ever got to hang with Uncle Erwin. Cosmic Coffee & Beer Garden in South Austin. He was friendly, witty and his usual progressive democratic self. We had a large crew of McGee Family and Cousins & energetic kids there that day. I wish I had more days like this, with y'all. George Vance McGee 512.657.9281 georgevance@gmail.com

Nina Little Erwin meets the first McGee family twins, Malin and Soren.

George Vance McGee From Claude McGee

Bethany Morse Siena’s first trip to Austin. April 2016

Juliette Luciano Uncle Erwin with baby Joey

Ruben Ruckman Something Erwin wrote to introduce Balcones Books online: About me: For the past 35 years I've been a trial attorney, general civil litigation. Concurrently, I've collected over 20,000 books with the intention of opening a brick and mortar book store in retirement. I did it. Book collecting aside, my other intention was to teach political economy (political science and economics, as a study, never should have been separate -- as they were in the 1940s). I will teach my second course in the Spring 2017. About my library: Law aside, my personal focus was on vintage child and young adult, fine firsts (signed and/or otherwise collectible fiction), political science, and economics. My wife and Mother-in-law (both chefs) gave me an invaluable "list" of cookbooks. My father-in-law actually was a rocket scientist and gave me an invaluable "list" of aviation titles and my wife inherited his library. But it was my Mother (graduate, Rice University, English major) who got too old to wander library shelves and assigned me to the task. Since she read 3 or 4 novels/week and you could only check out two or three at a time, I found it less time consuming to bring her sacks of books (30 and 40 at a time) that I would pick up at garage and estate sales. From this practice, she'd give me book reports on what and why she liked authors or eschewed others. For the last 10 years of her life, we would discuss books and authors. I don't have a clue as to who enjoyed it more. But, and here's the point, that was The List. Everything from Thomas Friendman or Jared Diamond to Carl Hiassen, Lawrence Block or Patricia Cornwell. She read everything. Balcones Books caters to the collector and the reader alike. "When you're in a book you're never bored." Mary Beth McGee (1918-2014) Source: https://www.librarything.com/profile/BalconesBooks It's worth reading the original version. I removed a section, and his additional comments are very "Erwin"...

Ruben Ruckman Erwin sitting with Inez and Gabe, May 2017

Ruben Ruckman Erwin had many quotable quotes, but I definitely have my favorite. It was his go-to saying after you thanked him for doing something little for you -- he brought you a towel, a beer, a hamburger, whatever it was. He'd say "It's What I Live For!" in his kinda big silly voice. This saying sums up Erwin for me -- he was being funny and also honest. It was true, he lived to help his family however he could. There are countless examples, I'll share just a few. When we moved to Austin for grad school, Erwin helped Erin and I unpack on our first day in town. During the following three years, he would show up at our house frequently with little presents he'd found on his weekly garage sale tour. The gifts were always things that he thought could help me with my studies like old architecture books or strange tools for building architecture models. On Sundays we would play bridge, the standard foursome being Lala, Erwin, Juliette and me. Erwin always picked up our breakfast tacos, along with whatever groceries Lala needed, as well as the latest books-on-tape for her to read. And when you'd thank him, he'd recite his tried and true - "It's what I live for!" I sure do miss him big.

Chadwick Wall I was a customer of Balcones Books and Erwin, and Albert, helped make those times in Austin some of the best in my life. Stopping by and chatting about literature, history, and current events with Erwin and Albert, and then browsing and loading up on books for my home library—how I miss those days. My favorite memory involving Erwin was on March 30, 2018, when he invited me over to his house and we enjoyed a couple of beverages on his back patio. It was an honor! I met Kat, saw Albert, met Sherman and Boris, and purchased some books from Erwin’s own well-curated library. Erwin surely left an impression on me. His passion for literature, his strong mind and great heart, his defense of the “little guy” throughout his legal career, his bravery in launching an independent bookstore, his friendship with his son, and his natural coolness made him an unforgettable figure from my decade in Austin. Erwin was always supportive of not just my journey through reading, but of my own publications, and that meant so much. Even if he hadn’t—Erwin represented his city, his native state, and his generation so well. One of my faults that at times causes me great regret and embarrassment is often not keeping up well with friends, and when I get back in touch, I tend to instinctively assume little has changed. This time it was particularly rough when I searched online for Erwin this week, wondering how he was before I would email him, and spotted his bright, amiable face looking out at me from a Memories.net thumbnail photo… My much belated condolences to Kat, Albert and the family. Yet Erwin lives on—in another realm, and in the memories of those here. He will live on in Albert’s writing. And of course, he will live on in the many great mylar-enclosed hardbacks that will never leave my library! Thank you, Erwin. We will see you again! —Chadwick Wall Mandeville, LA 10 September 2022 (above photo shows some of my many treasures from Balcones Books)

Ruben Ruckman Excerpts from an article in Life in Highland Park West about Balcones Books, Nov 2018: "It's always been a lifetime dream of mine to own an independent brick-and-mortar bookstore." When asked about working with Albert, Erwin says "The store has definitely brought us closer together. It is a rare privilege when a father has the opportunity to go into business with his son. I see him on a daily basis for about an hour and that means the world to me."

Nina Little Growing up, I had few opportunities to interact with Erwin and when I did, I found his extreme intelligence, knowledge of literature and political passion intimidating. I did not know how to start a conversation and felt like I did not have anything witty or intelligent to add to conversations. (Plus, I still don’t know how to play bridge). But I knew that Erwin loved books, and I was becoming an avid reader. I remember one of my first conversations with Erwin about books was when I was an undergrad taking lots of literature and journalism courses. He asked about my favorite genres and I admitted struggling with some classics due to the archaic language but having a passion for historical fiction. I felt a bit proud to share my love of the southern classic, Gone with the Wind (whereupon we had an in-depth discussion about how the book portrays slavery). When I became an author, Erwin was gracious enough to host a book signing for me at Balcones Books. It was a wonderful family affaire and I was truly touched that Erwin took the time to read my book, offer up his store and even provide hors d’oeuvres and wine. I went from feeling intimidated and shy to honored and special. I was even more touched when he complimented my book and said I am a gifted travel writer. But what completely moved me to tears were the following words, which he sent in an email after my book signing in July: “I don't know whether you ever knew that I was helping Mary Gray sort your string book (an album my mom kept with all of my newspaper and magazine article clippings) one afternoon maybe 15 years ago in Santa Fe. I was amazed by the breadth of your beat and I was blown away at your depth of understanding of the broad agenda of local agencies -- school board, Commissioner's Court, Mayor, zoning commission, whatever. You covered it all and you fully appreciated the decisions being made, factors that needed to be taken under consideration, and need for readers to understand and connect with the issues. It confirmed my suspicion that you are a good writer.” Sadly, I thought my connection with Erwin was something recent, but as it turns out, he knew who I was, thought I was interesting and saw me as a credible journalist…for years. Being a writer is a challenging path to follow in life: filled with rejection, criticism, and self-doubt. Therefore, these words from someone of great intelligence and knowledge of literature, whom I deeply respected and admired, will stay with me, and boost me up for the rest of my life. I am heartbroken that I did not have the chance to tell him how much his words mean to me. Plus, there are so many more books I would have loved to discuss with him. Erwin had a brilliant mind, a great sense of humor and a generous heart. I wish I could have known him better. I hope there are lots of good books in Heaven. I'll miss you Uncle Erwin.

Ruben Ruckman

Juliette Luciano I keep thinking back to the countless mornings that Erwin, Ruben, LaLa and I played bridge (“I like to play”). Every morning he’d say “are you wakey?!” (I wasn’t a morning person). He had so so many quotes to help with the rules, “length before strength”, “one queer all queer”, “fourth highest from longest and strongest”, sluff your losers” - he always let us table talk and taught me to play when I was too young to hold all my cards. I remember going under the table to organize my hand. When I first moved to Austin. I was still unpacking and Erwin pulled up to the house, put me, Ruben and Erin in the car and drove us straight downtown to register to vote. I think I was trying to delay the errand saying I didn’t want to park downtown - Erwin drove us and circled the block while we registered “we need your vote”. I’ve lived in 5 different places since moving to Austin. Erwin was there hoisting boxes, driving across town and tirelessly unloading each and every time. Not to mention staying to break down everything after my wedding without being asked. He was always there for me and absolutely loved taking care of, and helping his family. I miss him a whole lot.

George Vance McGee My favorites memories were of the fire fueled Christmas Eve celebrations at the Western Hills Trail with the pool in Austin. When Judge and Lala lived there, Albert, Me, Johnny, my mom, dad and basically all McGees in the ATX town would be there. Uncle Erwin would always give us cousins "the FUN" gifts, which were toys guns, walkie talkies, or toys we could run around with. Also the legendary Pool VOLLEY BALL games where Adults were in the Deep End and kids played from the Shallow End. Sitting on that backyard patio, and eating grapes, and shooting the breeze. I was too young to participate in the epic BRIDGE card battles, but would watch from nearby. Uncle Erwin McGee's Hosting skills were top notch. I think he'd even let the nephews and siblings borrow his cars often. Erwin had an unfathomable dry wit and humor. Love nephew GVM!

Maya Holmes

Maya Holmes Some vintage pictures of Erwin I have always adored. Mid 1950s and early 1970s. He was such a cute little boy and he has always loved the little ones.

Bethany Morse

Maya Holmes Glenn & Claire contributed these wonderful family portraits.

Glenn Emigh

Mary Gray McGee

Mary Gray McGee Photo by Frank Varner

Glenn Emigh

Mary Gray McGee Do you spot Juliette’s reflection in the window

Glenn Emigh Erwin, Claire, meeting and welcoming Bethany in Santa Fe.

Mary Gray McGee Neighbor Frank Varner took this picture

Glenn Emigh

Glenn Emigh

Glenn Emigh

Glenn Emigh

Mary Gray McGee 1968?

Mary Gray McGee Finally found a bridge picture.

Hanna Ruckman

Mary Gray McGee

Alice McGee Lake Austin I presume.

Mary Gray McGee Whenever I was in Austin visiting Juliette and my grandchildren, I would stop by the Bookstore to see Erwin. In fact it was this past January, 2020, that I saw him for the last time. It was like all the other times. I would bring a treat from the coffee shop, he would tell me a lot about politics/books and I would listen. This time I mentioned that I was interested in hand made books and asked if he knew anywhere they were displayed in Austin. Of course he knew just who I should visit, said the owners were very interesting people, and he walked outside and pointed to how close their shop was. He gave me a big hug. He knew the community in Austin. He knew a lot of people. I remember when Erwin ran for office in 1990 and I thought he would be so perfect in that job. He had some early training with our father. He used to go to the Pic ’n Pack (a very working class convenience store near our home) with “the judge” at a young age, inhaling second hand smoke, observing men drinking beer and listening. He was the son who became the lawyer my father wanted so badly. What he stood for in his campaign then is what we are still fighting for today. Austin lost an opportunity but Kat said campaigning was a drag. After Andi’s funeral and the gathering at George’s house, many of us were sad and hot and tired so we congregated at the pool at Erwin’s. I bumped into Alice and Colleen buying food at Randall’s. Erwin was in the deep end (not a surprise) and we were all sitting around the edge in the shallow end. Alice had Enzo in her lap and Joey was retrieving the ball when it went out of the pool. It looked like it would be all of us against Erwin. “I think” I mentioned this and we immediately started batting the volleyball to someone nearby in hopes we could keep it going. Erwin moved in a little closer, we hit the ball as softly as we could, the energy changed from competitive to cooperative in a flash. It was lovely. I regret I’ve been stubborn about being on Facebook but I’ve joined now and looked back to read some of Erwin’s postings. He did recommend that I follow Robert Reich on u-tube which was good advice. I’m thinking of Claire’s comment about the “lofty advantage” that Sears and I had being the elders. Erwin was 9 years younger than me. So when I was 12, he was 3 years old. No wonder I don’t remember playing basketball with him. When I was 15, he was 6. I don’t remember him water skiing with us. But when I was 17 and he was 8, I do remember the Twenty Questions game and how no one knew who “Heinz Guderian” was. We laughed a lot about that. I remember six of us being in that station wagon—one in the front between mother and daddy, 3 in the middle and the boys in the back. No air conditioning or seat belts. Did we all go to Cuenavaca?

Ruben Ruckman From Sears: For weeks after Erwin died, I felt like I was drowning in the waves of grief that kept rolling over me. It has taken me a long time to regain enough equilibrium to write something about him for the wonderful online memory page that was set up. When I read the early entries the effect was to make me revisit the grief I was trying to overcome so I stopped visiting the page for a time. This week (mid-June) I finally returned to it and found everything on it really helpful. As you all know and have said in delightful ways, he was a sweetheart -- a talented lawyer deeply involved in his community and surrounded by friends who loved him. He was smart, funny, engagingly eccentric, and deeply devoted to all of us. He took assiduous care of my parents in their last years, visiting them regularly to do whatever they needed. When I tried to thank him for all the time and energy he put into their care, he simply said "it's my privilege." He added that he enjoyed every minute he spent with them, and I know he meant that. Fortunately, his book-collecting habit helped him keep mother well supplied with reading matter—no small task given her love of reading. When all of us visited Austin with our children, he was, as Marni wrote in her poem about him, the Pied Piper. He taught the grandchildren to play bridge, led countless volleyball games in their backyard pool, and cooked lots of burgers for the poolside meals. Whenever I was in Austin or he in California, we invariably had long discussions of whatever aspect of politics and political economy were in the news. When Mary Gray organized a reunion one summer, we gathered at a remote fishing camp high in the rugged mountains north of Santa Fe. We all took off on a long hike one morning, and Erwin and I happened to be at the end of the line. We immediately got so involved in one of our usual debates that we missed a turn and got hopelessly lost. Some six or seven hours later and getting very hungry, we got lucky when a man who had a cabin drove by on a fire road and took us back to town where we could call the folks at the fish camp. On one of the occasions when he and Kat were visiting us in Santa Barbara, Claude was complaining about the landlord he and his roommates had in San Diego (Claude was then at San Diego State University). The guy wouldn't return their large cleaning deposit, although they had left the place in good shape. Erwin proceeded to tell Claude he would write his standard and elegant "eat shit and die letter" to the landlord, telling him that if he didn't refund the deposit he would be delighted to come back to California in order to sue him. The money promptly appeared. Liz, who lived in Austin from the time she left UC-Riverside until about ten years ago, was extremely close to Erwin and Kat. When we called Liz to give her the terrible news we had just received from Kat, Liz said "I can't imagine a world without Erwin in it.” She beautifully expressed what we were also thinking. I will always miss him, and I will always be grateful for the many ways in which his loving and generous heart enriched our lives and our souls.