POPPIN - In San Francisco, CA, Tuesday, March 1, 2010, George John, loving husband of Dorothy Edith Ritter Poppin; adored father of Nancy Ann Umland (Art) of Marysville, Thomas George Poppin (Lyn) of Palo Cedro, Joan Marie Mickelson of San Francisco, and Deborah Kathleen Jeffries of Hoopa; precious grandfather of Matthew and Mark Posey, Thomas Poppin, Jr., GregTribulato, Jackie Williams (Todd), Shannon Powell (Kevin), Derek Jeffries and Marney Kubala (Jason); great grandfather of Chaylene and Jeremy, Derek, Jr, Phillip, Jacob, Brandon and Caleb, and Emily; great-great grandfather of Haliegh. George was born in Phoenix Arizona on August 31, 1918 to Russian immigrant parents. He died peacefully at home, surrounded by his loving family.
George met his sweetheart, Dottie, at Siegler's Springs in Lake County, California on the Fourth of July 1941. It was love at first sight. They married on June 24, 1944 in San Francisco, CA.
George graduated from Commerce Evening High School and continued on to Santa Clara University with a full football scholarship. He graduated in 1942. During WWII, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany. He was the Chief Secretary of the Economic Directorate (United States Element) of the Allied Control Council. He held the rank of Captain. During the Fall of 1945, he coached one of the first American football teams to play football in the history of Berlin, Germany.
After the War, he pursued his master's degree in Education from San Francisco State College. His first teaching job was at George Washington High School in San Francisco during the fall of 1947. He taught mechanical drawing and physical education and also became the head football coach.
After teaching at Samuel Gompers Trades High School (John O'Connell Vocational High School.) George transferred to Galileo High School in 1957. It was there that he became the head football coach. He taught many different types of classes, but primarily he taught U.S. History.
George and Dottie did some traveling after he retired from teaching in 1977. They traveled to Beijing, China in 1983 and later to Russia and Turkey. The purpose of the trips was to promote the love of roses. George was the Head Rosarian at Golden Gate Park. It was on the trip to Beijing that he brought roses from San Francisco and brought home roses from China.
George's fascination with short-wave radio allowed him to become a technical monitor for several international radio broadcasters: Australia, China, Israel, France, Turkey, Italy and England. He monitored up until last year and enjoyed every moment. Many interested people would write for information about how to listen to radio stations for their homeland. George was gracious and helpful.
Preceded in death were his parents John Fred and Hazel Nicholas Seminoff Poppin, brothers and sisters, John, Alice Pettibone, Jim, Nell Payne, Mary Andrews, Hazel Thompson, Dorothy Hollandsworth, Alex and Nick Papin, Fred, Bill and Hania Poppin, and Anna Seminoff.
Friends are invited to attend a funeral mass, on Thursday, March 4, 2010 at St. Cecilia Catholic Church, 17th Avenue and Vicente Street, San Francisco. Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma.
==============
LETTERS TO HOME & GARDEN
September 20, 2003Ruminations of a rose gardener
Editor -- I am a retired Galileo High School teacher and I try to maintain a rose garden of 45 bushes in the Parkside district here in San Francisco.
The contents of the enclosed letter to my children might be helpful to fellow gardeners as they reach the age of senior citizen.
GEORGE J. POPPIN, San Francisco.
THOUGHTS WHILE PULLING WEEDS
You're going to reach my stage in life one of these days so I might just as well pass on a few tips on living with older age. The one thing that you will notice at this stage of life is the overwhelming urge NOT to do things today that you can do tomorrow. Now, that bothers me a bit because I have always been a "go-get-'em" type of a guy.
I look at the garden, make plans to weed "tomorrow." Come tomorrow and there is a hang-up. So you postpone to another tomorrow. On and on it goes until you sit down and change into your gardening shoes at the door to the basement, go downstairs, pick up the rug on which you will rest your knees, pick up the long-handled, two-pronged claw, a 5-gallon white bucket for the weeds and head for the first spot that you intend to weed. It happens to be in front, by the 'Playboy' rosebush and to the left of the birdbath.
Now I venture in to do battle. I throw the rug down on terra firma, reach down and balance the weight of my body onto the two-pronged garden claw and slowly bend my body down to the rug mat. . . . Oh, my aching back, the knees pop and crackle . . . and I get down to my knees and reach over to loosen the long weeds with my garden claw.
As I pull up a clump of weeds with my right hand, soil trickles down onto my left hand and I think, "My goodness, Mother Earth feels good to the touch." The nice, soft earth gripped in a clump of soil brings an inner glow to my body. So this is what it is all about -- "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" -- my body will one day return to the soil from whence it originally came.
I further think our bodies are never too far from the ground as we tread about in our daily lives. It's as if the soil beckons us to be near it. Like "gardening" in the garden, most of our lives are centered on the soil. So why be hesitant about meeting our maker? We are halfway there already.
=================
Hi Nancy,
Thanks for letting us know. All I can say is we'll miss him. Uncle George: the man who made everyone feel important no matter who they were. Bob's been searching the SF papers to see if they do a write-up on your Dad. George did so much. Bob mentioned the shortwave; I remember you said he coached high school kids; and Dottie mentioned his enthusiasm for teaching rose care in Golden Gate Park. He came to see us with you and Dottie, kids of his old friend John Seminoff, who lived with his family in Placerville (that's how my Dad said it) for a time when they were kids. George stayed overnight in the barn on my grandparents farm later, when they grew up, on Stony Point Road, before heading out with Dad to the Russian River. They lifted barbells together.
I feel as badly about George's passing as I did Dad's, would you believe it? But I wanted to share a tiny miracle which occurred this morning at half-light, while Bob or Mike were still sleeping. It was raining. A good warm, decent rain, nourishing the earth and our arid lives. Two of my late daffodils, Mrs. R F Backhouse, the first pink daffodil hybridized in England, had newly opened, and nodding their fragile heads. They brought tears to my eyes, and I will tell you why: Plants have always been my inspiration and comfort when I've lost someone. When Dad died my dieffenbachia, a houseplant, burst into bloom, a rare occurrence according to Sunset Garden Book. When my Aunt Babe, Mother's sister, died, outside my back door I found a pink gazania, one I hadn't seen for many years, with three newly opened pink flowers. And when my sister Debbie died, we had a field of white mushrooms blanketing the grasses under the oaks everywhere, something so typically Debbie.
This hasn't happened since she died, though I've lost others. It was like Uncle George looking down on us, a blessing. It softened this heart of mine, which sometimes feels it's getting as stiff as my aging muscles and forgets about miracles. A gift from a man I and Bob and Mike all loved from the start. Mike took an instant liking to George,
and Mike's very particular.
You have the same quality George has, Nancy, a sincere and loving heart. Which made me love you, as well, from the beginning, though we didn't share our childhoods. God bless you.
I'm sorry we won't be able to attend George's memorial. It's just too far. What a nice thing to include us all as immediate family. Give your Mom a big hug, and tell her we love her. And take one for yourself.
Love,
Kathy, Bob and Mike
=============
From Dad's Guest Book
March 13, 2010
Dear Dottie and Family,
George Poppin was my Godfather, and I was so sorry to hear of his passing. My father was James Kearney who was a teacher, coach and ultimately principal at Galileo High School in the 1960's and early 70's. I know that he thought very highly of George, so much so that he asked George to be godfather of his long awaited first child. I have a great picture of my baptism from fall 1960, with George standing very stoically and Dottie with a terrific either navy or black hat with a white bow and a stunning suite to match. My Godmother was out of state, and Dottie very kindly stepped in for Barbara Guilfoil. I remember George's booming voice, large hands, ready smile and bear hug. Prayers for you all from the Kearney Family, my mother Nancy and brothers Jim and Steven.
Marianne Kearney Wright,
Altadena, California
March 04, 2010
Dear Nancy,
What a charming photo and loving story of your Dad. He leaves his family and his many students with wonderful memories. His was a life well lived.
Nancy Murphy, San Mateo, California
March 04, 2010
Nancy, I know this is a very sad time for you and your family, but how lucky to have had your dad for such a long and wonderful lifetime! My prayers are with you and yours as you celebrate his life.
Rosalie Savano-Woodhead, Placerville, California
March 03, 2010
To My St. Cecila Classmate Nancy, her Mom, and her Siblings:
Your Dad was so blessed to have such a long and happy life, and to be able to celebrate the marriage of his Little Girl to a wonderful man named Art.
He was truly a member of "The Greatest Generation."
You are in my heart and my meditations.
Jo Anne Quinn, Tidewater, Oregon
March 03, 2010
Was saddened to read of your loss. My sympathy to you Tom, and to your family.
Larry Magee, San Francisco, California
March 03, 2010
Dottie,
We love you. All of your friends at the Collins Center are here for you. George was a delightful person and you were so caring to him. We are so sorry for your loss. God bless George and all of your family.
With sympathy,
All of your friends at the Center
Diane Weinkauf, Pacifica, California
March 03, 2010
So sorry to hear of the passing of George. Dottie & I worked together for many years at St. Joseph's Hospital & I often wondered about both of them. So sorry to hear of your loss. I remember Dottie's stories of George& his collection of roses & how he cared for them. Please tell Dottie I think of her often and I send my deepest sympathy to her & all her family.
Claudette Thompson
Claudette Thompson, San Bruno, California
March 03, 2010
George was the most encouraging man we ever knew. If he only knew you a little while he remembered your name. He always had a friendliness which made you feel accepted and equal, that you could succeed. He was the family historian that brought a bond to many families together.
Kathy, Bob and Mike Dickerson
Robert Dickerson, Windsor, California
============
REMINISCENCES ABOUT THE WAR
By Olga Troshina
http://www.vor.ru/English/Victory/vict_26.html
There is a short portion of this writing that is about Dad during WWII
They were all war heroes - Russian, British, Canadian and American officers and soldiers, who fought bravely to approach our common victory. One of them was George Poppin in San Francisco, California. His parents were Russian émigrés, who came to America at the beginning of the 20th century. Here's an excerpt from a letter that George sent us some time ago:
"World War Two was at an end. It had been a long time since Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, which brought America into the war on December 7, 1941. The War to End All Wars came to a dramatic halt in May of 1945, and in no time American soldiers were singing, "Oh, Mr.Truman, when can I go home" to the tune of a Nazi Germany hit song. They had had enough. They were tired, emotionally wounded, weary and longing to see their families and loved ones. Thus, I found myself on the northwest tip of France in one of the United States military camps. The camp was a tent city for returning soldiers awaiting troop ships that would take them back across the Atlantic Ocean from war-torn, destroyed and miserable Germany after World War Two.
"There he was, Captain George John Poppin, tense with nerves as tight as the strings of a bull fiddle and emotionally distraught. There were three other officers in our living quarters. My worldly possessions were all contained in a footlocker and two duffle bags. The footlocker contained a quart of Seven Crown whiskey, which I managed to "liberate" in Germany. I was saving it for our second honey-moon with my darling wife, Dottie, once I got back to San Francisco…
"It was in a large dining hall of tent that I heard someone slap me on the back and shout, "Hi, Pop, how's it going?" It was so good to meet someone from San Francisco. In fact, he was the first San Franciscan I met in all my days in the US Army. My former army colleagues were from the deep South, mid-west and north-eastern part of the United States. Before long Bill and I walked over to his tent, and there I met Max Sailor, another San Franciscan! This called for a celebration of some sorts… Yep! Out came that whiskey I was saving for our honeymoon. We, along with an army chaplain, celebrated pretty good … a lot to recall of fond memories and war stories.
"In two days Bill and Max caught their ship to the United States of America, and shortly thereafter my group got aboard a Navy troop ship and were on our way to Boston, Massachusetts. About two days out to sea from Boston we heard our first radio commercial… On a freezing morning we arose to see the coastline of the United States off in the distance. We got off the ship and took a troop train to New Brunswick, New Jersey. There we were on a ‘hurry-up-and-wait' condition. It would be days before we boarded an airplane for California. It was brutally cold in New Jersey, and we got a chance to see New York. The next morning our group of officers was given the alert for boarding the bus to take us to the airport. We boarded a cargo plane, which would take us to our final destination - San Francisco - and into the arms of my beloved wife Dottie. Home at last !"
George met his sweetheart, Dottie, at Siegler's Springs in Lake County, California on the Fourth of July 1941. It was love at first sight. They married on June 24, 1944 in San Francisco, CA.
George graduated from Commerce Evening High School and continued on to Santa Clara University with a full football scholarship. He graduated in 1942. During WWII, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany. He was the Chief Secretary of the Economic Directorate (United States Element) of the Allied Control Council. He held the rank of Captain. During the Fall of 1945, he coached one of the first American football teams to play football in the history of Berlin, Germany.
After the War, he pursued his master's degree in Education from San Francisco State College. His first teaching job was at George Washington High School in San Francisco during the fall of 1947. He taught mechanical drawing and physical education and also became the head football coach.
After teaching at Samuel Gompers Trades High School (John O'Connell Vocational High School.) George transferred to Galileo High School in 1957. It was there that he became the head football coach. He taught many different types of classes, but primarily he taught U.S. History.
George and Dottie did some traveling after he retired from teaching in 1977. They traveled to Beijing, China in 1983 and later to Russia and Turkey. The purpose of the trips was to promote the love of roses. George was the Head Rosarian at Golden Gate Park. It was on the trip to Beijing that he brought roses from San Francisco and brought home roses from China.
George's fascination with short-wave radio allowed him to become a technical monitor for several international radio broadcasters: Australia, China, Israel, France, Turkey, Italy and England. He monitored up until last year and enjoyed every moment. Many interested people would write for information about how to listen to radio stations for their homeland. George was gracious and helpful.
Preceded in death were his parents John Fred and Hazel Nicholas Seminoff Poppin, brothers and sisters, John, Alice Pettibone, Jim, Nell Payne, Mary Andrews, Hazel Thompson, Dorothy Hollandsworth, Alex and Nick Papin, Fred, Bill and Hania Poppin, and Anna Seminoff.
Friends are invited to attend a funeral mass, on Thursday, March 4, 2010 at St. Cecilia Catholic Church, 17th Avenue and Vicente Street, San Francisco. Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma.
==============
LETTERS TO HOME & GARDEN
September 20, 2003Ruminations of a rose gardener
Editor -- I am a retired Galileo High School teacher and I try to maintain a rose garden of 45 bushes in the Parkside district here in San Francisco.
The contents of the enclosed letter to my children might be helpful to fellow gardeners as they reach the age of senior citizen.
GEORGE J. POPPIN, San Francisco.
THOUGHTS WHILE PULLING WEEDS
You're going to reach my stage in life one of these days so I might just as well pass on a few tips on living with older age. The one thing that you will notice at this stage of life is the overwhelming urge NOT to do things today that you can do tomorrow. Now, that bothers me a bit because I have always been a "go-get-'em" type of a guy.
I look at the garden, make plans to weed "tomorrow." Come tomorrow and there is a hang-up. So you postpone to another tomorrow. On and on it goes until you sit down and change into your gardening shoes at the door to the basement, go downstairs, pick up the rug on which you will rest your knees, pick up the long-handled, two-pronged claw, a 5-gallon white bucket for the weeds and head for the first spot that you intend to weed. It happens to be in front, by the 'Playboy' rosebush and to the left of the birdbath.
Now I venture in to do battle. I throw the rug down on terra firma, reach down and balance the weight of my body onto the two-pronged garden claw and slowly bend my body down to the rug mat. . . . Oh, my aching back, the knees pop and crackle . . . and I get down to my knees and reach over to loosen the long weeds with my garden claw.
As I pull up a clump of weeds with my right hand, soil trickles down onto my left hand and I think, "My goodness, Mother Earth feels good to the touch." The nice, soft earth gripped in a clump of soil brings an inner glow to my body. So this is what it is all about -- "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" -- my body will one day return to the soil from whence it originally came.
I further think our bodies are never too far from the ground as we tread about in our daily lives. It's as if the soil beckons us to be near it. Like "gardening" in the garden, most of our lives are centered on the soil. So why be hesitant about meeting our maker? We are halfway there already.
=================
Hi Nancy,
Thanks for letting us know. All I can say is we'll miss him. Uncle George: the man who made everyone feel important no matter who they were. Bob's been searching the SF papers to see if they do a write-up on your Dad. George did so much. Bob mentioned the shortwave; I remember you said he coached high school kids; and Dottie mentioned his enthusiasm for teaching rose care in Golden Gate Park. He came to see us with you and Dottie, kids of his old friend John Seminoff, who lived with his family in Placerville (that's how my Dad said it) for a time when they were kids. George stayed overnight in the barn on my grandparents farm later, when they grew up, on Stony Point Road, before heading out with Dad to the Russian River. They lifted barbells together.
I feel as badly about George's passing as I did Dad's, would you believe it? But I wanted to share a tiny miracle which occurred this morning at half-light, while Bob or Mike were still sleeping. It was raining. A good warm, decent rain, nourishing the earth and our arid lives. Two of my late daffodils, Mrs. R F Backhouse, the first pink daffodil hybridized in England, had newly opened, and nodding their fragile heads. They brought tears to my eyes, and I will tell you why: Plants have always been my inspiration and comfort when I've lost someone. When Dad died my dieffenbachia, a houseplant, burst into bloom, a rare occurrence according to Sunset Garden Book. When my Aunt Babe, Mother's sister, died, outside my back door I found a pink gazania, one I hadn't seen for many years, with three newly opened pink flowers. And when my sister Debbie died, we had a field of white mushrooms blanketing the grasses under the oaks everywhere, something so typically Debbie.
This hasn't happened since she died, though I've lost others. It was like Uncle George looking down on us, a blessing. It softened this heart of mine, which sometimes feels it's getting as stiff as my aging muscles and forgets about miracles. A gift from a man I and Bob and Mike all loved from the start. Mike took an instant liking to George,
and Mike's very particular.
You have the same quality George has, Nancy, a sincere and loving heart. Which made me love you, as well, from the beginning, though we didn't share our childhoods. God bless you.
I'm sorry we won't be able to attend George's memorial. It's just too far. What a nice thing to include us all as immediate family. Give your Mom a big hug, and tell her we love her. And take one for yourself.
Love,
Kathy, Bob and Mike
=============
From Dad's Guest Book
March 13, 2010
Dear Dottie and Family,
George Poppin was my Godfather, and I was so sorry to hear of his passing. My father was James Kearney who was a teacher, coach and ultimately principal at Galileo High School in the 1960's and early 70's. I know that he thought very highly of George, so much so that he asked George to be godfather of his long awaited first child. I have a great picture of my baptism from fall 1960, with George standing very stoically and Dottie with a terrific either navy or black hat with a white bow and a stunning suite to match. My Godmother was out of state, and Dottie very kindly stepped in for Barbara Guilfoil. I remember George's booming voice, large hands, ready smile and bear hug. Prayers for you all from the Kearney Family, my mother Nancy and brothers Jim and Steven.
Marianne Kearney Wright,
Altadena, California
March 04, 2010
Dear Nancy,
What a charming photo and loving story of your Dad. He leaves his family and his many students with wonderful memories. His was a life well lived.
Nancy Murphy, San Mateo, California
March 04, 2010
Nancy, I know this is a very sad time for you and your family, but how lucky to have had your dad for such a long and wonderful lifetime! My prayers are with you and yours as you celebrate his life.
Rosalie Savano-Woodhead, Placerville, California
March 03, 2010
To My St. Cecila Classmate Nancy, her Mom, and her Siblings:
Your Dad was so blessed to have such a long and happy life, and to be able to celebrate the marriage of his Little Girl to a wonderful man named Art.
He was truly a member of "The Greatest Generation."
You are in my heart and my meditations.
Jo Anne Quinn, Tidewater, Oregon
March 03, 2010
Was saddened to read of your loss. My sympathy to you Tom, and to your family.
Larry Magee, San Francisco, California
March 03, 2010
Dottie,
We love you. All of your friends at the Collins Center are here for you. George was a delightful person and you were so caring to him. We are so sorry for your loss. God bless George and all of your family.
With sympathy,
All of your friends at the Center
Diane Weinkauf, Pacifica, California
March 03, 2010
So sorry to hear of the passing of George. Dottie & I worked together for many years at St. Joseph's Hospital & I often wondered about both of them. So sorry to hear of your loss. I remember Dottie's stories of George& his collection of roses & how he cared for them. Please tell Dottie I think of her often and I send my deepest sympathy to her & all her family.
Claudette Thompson
Claudette Thompson, San Bruno, California
March 03, 2010
George was the most encouraging man we ever knew. If he only knew you a little while he remembered your name. He always had a friendliness which made you feel accepted and equal, that you could succeed. He was the family historian that brought a bond to many families together.
Kathy, Bob and Mike Dickerson
Robert Dickerson, Windsor, California
============
REMINISCENCES ABOUT THE WAR
By Olga Troshina
http://www.vor.ru/English/Victory/vict_26.html
There is a short portion of this writing that is about Dad during WWII
They were all war heroes - Russian, British, Canadian and American officers and soldiers, who fought bravely to approach our common victory. One of them was George Poppin in San Francisco, California. His parents were Russian émigrés, who came to America at the beginning of the 20th century. Here's an excerpt from a letter that George sent us some time ago:
"World War Two was at an end. It had been a long time since Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, which brought America into the war on December 7, 1941. The War to End All Wars came to a dramatic halt in May of 1945, and in no time American soldiers were singing, "Oh, Mr.Truman, when can I go home" to the tune of a Nazi Germany hit song. They had had enough. They were tired, emotionally wounded, weary and longing to see their families and loved ones. Thus, I found myself on the northwest tip of France in one of the United States military camps. The camp was a tent city for returning soldiers awaiting troop ships that would take them back across the Atlantic Ocean from war-torn, destroyed and miserable Germany after World War Two.
"There he was, Captain George John Poppin, tense with nerves as tight as the strings of a bull fiddle and emotionally distraught. There were three other officers in our living quarters. My worldly possessions were all contained in a footlocker and two duffle bags. The footlocker contained a quart of Seven Crown whiskey, which I managed to "liberate" in Germany. I was saving it for our second honey-moon with my darling wife, Dottie, once I got back to San Francisco…
"It was in a large dining hall of tent that I heard someone slap me on the back and shout, "Hi, Pop, how's it going?" It was so good to meet someone from San Francisco. In fact, he was the first San Franciscan I met in all my days in the US Army. My former army colleagues were from the deep South, mid-west and north-eastern part of the United States. Before long Bill and I walked over to his tent, and there I met Max Sailor, another San Franciscan! This called for a celebration of some sorts… Yep! Out came that whiskey I was saving for our honeymoon. We, along with an army chaplain, celebrated pretty good … a lot to recall of fond memories and war stories.
"In two days Bill and Max caught their ship to the United States of America, and shortly thereafter my group got aboard a Navy troop ship and were on our way to Boston, Massachusetts. About two days out to sea from Boston we heard our first radio commercial… On a freezing morning we arose to see the coastline of the United States off in the distance. We got off the ship and took a troop train to New Brunswick, New Jersey. There we were on a ‘hurry-up-and-wait' condition. It would be days before we boarded an airplane for California. It was brutally cold in New Jersey, and we got a chance to see New York. The next morning our group of officers was given the alert for boarding the bus to take us to the airport. We boarded a cargo plane, which would take us to our final destination - San Francisco - and into the arms of my beloved wife Dottie. Home at last !"
POPPIN - In San Francisco, CA, Tuesday, March 1, 2010, George John, loving husband of Dorothy Edith Ritter Poppin; adored father of Nancy Ann Umland (Art) of Marysville, Thomas George Poppin (Lyn) of Palo Cedro, Joan Marie Mickelson of San Francisco, and Deborah Kathleen Jeffries of Hoopa; precious grandfather of Matthew and Mark Posey, Thomas Poppin, Jr., GregTribulato, Jackie Williams (Todd), Shannon Powell (Kevin), Derek Jeffries and Marney Kubala (Jason); great grandfather of Chaylene and Jeremy, Derek, Jr, Phillip, Jacob, Brandon and Caleb, and Emily; great-great grandfather of Haliegh. George was born in Phoenix Arizona on August 31, 1918 to Russian immigrant parents. He died peacefully at home, surrounded by his loving family.
George met his sweetheart, Dottie, at Siegler's Springs in Lake County, California on the Fourth of July 1941. It was love at first sight. They married on June 24, 1944 in San Francisco, CA.
George graduated from Commerce Evening High School and continued on to Santa Clara University with a full football scholarship. He graduated in 1942. During WWII, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany. He was the Chief Secretary of the Economic Directorate (United States Element) of the Allied Control Council. He held the rank of Captain. During the Fall of 1945, he coached one of the first American football teams to play football in the history of Berlin, Germany.
After the War, he pursued his master's degree in Education from San Francisco State College. His first teaching job was at George Washington High School in San Francisco during the fall of 1947. He taught mechanical drawing and physical education and also became the head football coach.
After teaching at Samuel Gompers Trades High School (John O'Connell Vocational High School.) George transferred to Galileo High School in 1957. It was there that he became the head football coach. He taught many different types of classes, but primarily he taught U.S. History.
George and Dottie did some traveling after he retired from teaching in 1977. They traveled to Beijing, China in 1983 and later to Russia and Turkey. The purpose of the trips was to promote the love of roses. George was the Head Rosarian at Golden Gate Park. It was on the trip to Beijing that he brought roses from San Francisco and brought home roses from China.
George's fascination with short-wave radio allowed him to become a technical monitor for several international radio broadcasters: Australia, China, Israel, France, Turkey, Italy and England. He monitored up until last year and enjoyed every moment. Many interested people would write for information about how to listen to radio stations for their homeland. George was gracious and helpful.
Preceded in death were his parents John Fred and Hazel Nicholas Seminoff Poppin, brothers and sisters, John, Alice Pettibone, Jim, Nell Payne, Mary Andrews, Hazel Thompson, Dorothy Hollandsworth, Alex and Nick Papin, Fred, Bill and Hania Poppin, and Anna Seminoff.
Friends are invited to attend a funeral mass, on Thursday, March 4, 2010 at St. Cecilia Catholic Church, 17th Avenue and Vicente Street, San Francisco. Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma.
==============
LETTERS TO HOME & GARDEN
September 20, 2003Ruminations of a rose gardener
Editor -- I am a retired Galileo High School teacher and I try to maintain a rose garden of 45 bushes in the Parkside district here in San Francisco.
The contents of the enclosed letter to my children might be helpful to fellow gardeners as they reach the age of senior citizen.
GEORGE J. POPPIN, San Francisco.
THOUGHTS WHILE PULLING WEEDS
You're going to reach my stage in life one of these days so I might just as well pass on a few tips on living with older age. The one thing that you will notice at this stage of life is the overwhelming urge NOT to do things today that you can do tomorrow. Now, that bothers me a bit because I have always been a "go-get-'em" type of a guy.
I look at the garden, make plans to weed "tomorrow." Come tomorrow and there is a hang-up. So you postpone to another tomorrow. On and on it goes until you sit down and change into your gardening shoes at the door to the basement, go downstairs, pick up the rug on which you will rest your knees, pick up the long-handled, two-pronged claw, a 5-gallon white bucket for the weeds and head for the first spot that you intend to weed. It happens to be in front, by the 'Playboy' rosebush and to the left of the birdbath.
Now I venture in to do battle. I throw the rug down on terra firma, reach down and balance the weight of my body onto the two-pronged garden claw and slowly bend my body down to the rug mat. . . . Oh, my aching back, the knees pop and crackle . . . and I get down to my knees and reach over to loosen the long weeds with my garden claw.
As I pull up a clump of weeds with my right hand, soil trickles down onto my left hand and I think, "My goodness, Mother Earth feels good to the touch." The nice, soft earth gripped in a clump of soil brings an inner glow to my body. So this is what it is all about -- "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" -- my body will one day return to the soil from whence it originally came.
I further think our bodies are never too far from the ground as we tread about in our daily lives. It's as if the soil beckons us to be near it. Like "gardening" in the garden, most of our lives are centered on the soil. So why be hesitant about meeting our maker? We are halfway there already.
=================
Hi Nancy,
Thanks for letting us know. All I can say is we'll miss him. Uncle George: the man who made everyone feel important no matter who they were. Bob's been searching the SF papers to see if they do a write-up on your Dad. George did so much. Bob mentioned the shortwave; I remember you said he coached high school kids; and Dottie mentioned his enthusiasm for teaching rose care in Golden Gate Park. He came to see us with you and Dottie, kids of his old friend John Seminoff, who lived with his family in Placerville (that's how my Dad said it) for a time when they were kids. George stayed overnight in the barn on my grandparents farm later, when they grew up, on Stony Point Road, before heading out with Dad to the Russian River. They lifted barbells together.
I feel as badly about George's passing as I did Dad's, would you believe it? But I wanted to share a tiny miracle which occurred this morning at half-light, while Bob or Mike were still sleeping. It was raining. A good warm, decent rain, nourishing the earth and our arid lives. Two of my late daffodils, Mrs. R F Backhouse, the first pink daffodil hybridized in England, had newly opened, and nodding their fragile heads. They brought tears to my eyes, and I will tell you why: Plants have always been my inspiration and comfort when I've lost someone. When Dad died my dieffenbachia, a houseplant, burst into bloom, a rare occurrence according to Sunset Garden Book. When my Aunt Babe, Mother's sister, died, outside my back door I found a pink gazania, one I hadn't seen for many years, with three newly opened pink flowers. And when my sister Debbie died, we had a field of white mushrooms blanketing the grasses under the oaks everywhere, something so typically Debbie.
This hasn't happened since she died, though I've lost others. It was like Uncle George looking down on us, a blessing. It softened this heart of mine, which sometimes feels it's getting as stiff as my aging muscles and forgets about miracles. A gift from a man I and Bob and Mike all loved from the start. Mike took an instant liking to George,
and Mike's very particular.
You have the same quality George has, Nancy, a sincere and loving heart. Which made me love you, as well, from the beginning, though we didn't share our childhoods. God bless you.
I'm sorry we won't be able to attend George's memorial. It's just too far. What a nice thing to include us all as immediate family. Give your Mom a big hug, and tell her we love her. And take one for yourself.
Love,
Kathy, Bob and Mike
=============
From Dad's Guest Book
March 13, 2010
Dear Dottie and Family,
George Poppin was my Godfather, and I was so sorry to hear of his passing. My father was James Kearney who was a teacher, coach and ultimately principal at Galileo High School in the 1960's and early 70's. I know that he thought very highly of George, so much so that he asked George to be godfather of his long awaited first child. I have a great picture of my baptism from fall 1960, with George standing very stoically and Dottie with a terrific either navy or black hat with a white bow and a stunning suite to match. My Godmother was out of state, and Dottie very kindly stepped in for Barbara Guilfoil. I remember George's booming voice, large hands, ready smile and bear hug. Prayers for you all from the Kearney Family, my mother Nancy and brothers Jim and Steven.
Marianne Kearney Wright,
Altadena, California
March 04, 2010
Dear Nancy,
What a charming photo and loving story of your Dad. He leaves his family and his many students with wonderful memories. His was a life well lived.
Nancy Murphy, San Mateo, California
March 04, 2010
Nancy, I know this is a very sad time for you and your family, but how lucky to have had your dad for such a long and wonderful lifetime! My prayers are with you and yours as you celebrate his life.
Rosalie Savano-Woodhead, Placerville, California
March 03, 2010
To My St. Cecila Classmate Nancy, her Mom, and her Siblings:
Your Dad was so blessed to have such a long and happy life, and to be able to celebrate the marriage of his Little Girl to a wonderful man named Art.
He was truly a member of "The Greatest Generation."
You are in my heart and my meditations.
Jo Anne Quinn, Tidewater, Oregon
March 03, 2010
Was saddened to read of your loss. My sympathy to you Tom, and to your family.
Larry Magee, San Francisco, California
March 03, 2010
Dottie,
We love you. All of your friends at the Collins Center are here for you. George was a delightful person and you were so caring to him. We are so sorry for your loss. God bless George and all of your family.
With sympathy,
All of your friends at the Center
Diane Weinkauf, Pacifica, California
March 03, 2010
So sorry to hear of the passing of George. Dottie & I worked together for many years at St. Joseph's Hospital & I often wondered about both of them. So sorry to hear of your loss. I remember Dottie's stories of George& his collection of roses & how he cared for them. Please tell Dottie I think of her often and I send my deepest sympathy to her & all her family.
Claudette Thompson
Claudette Thompson, San Bruno, California
March 03, 2010
George was the most encouraging man we ever knew. If he only knew you a little while he remembered your name. He always had a friendliness which made you feel accepted and equal, that you could succeed. He was the family historian that brought a bond to many families together.
Kathy, Bob and Mike Dickerson
Robert Dickerson, Windsor, California
============
REMINISCENCES ABOUT THE WAR
By Olga Troshina
http://www.vor.ru/English/Victory/vict_26.html
There is a short portion of this writing that is about Dad during WWII
They were all war heroes - Russian, British, Canadian and American officers and soldiers, who fought bravely to approach our common victory. One of them was George Poppin in San Francisco, California. His parents were Russian émigrés, who came to America at the beginning of the 20th century. Here's an excerpt from a letter that George sent us some time ago:
"World War Two was at an end. It had been a long time since Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, which brought America into the war on December 7, 1941. The War to End All Wars came to a dramatic halt in May of 1945, and in no time American soldiers were singing, "Oh, Mr.Truman, when can I go home" to the tune of a Nazi Germany hit song. They had had enough. They were tired, emotionally wounded, weary and longing to see their families and loved ones. Thus, I found myself on the northwest tip of France in one of the United States military camps. The camp was a tent city for returning soldiers awaiting troop ships that would take them back across the Atlantic Ocean from war-torn, destroyed and miserable Germany after World War Two.
"There he was, Captain George John Poppin, tense with nerves as tight as the strings of a bull fiddle and emotionally distraught. There were three other officers in our living quarters. My worldly possessions were all contained in a footlocker and two duffle bags. The footlocker contained a quart of Seven Crown whiskey, which I managed to "liberate" in Germany. I was saving it for our second honey-moon with my darling wife, Dottie, once I got back to San Francisco…
"It was in a large dining hall of tent that I heard someone slap me on the back and shout, "Hi, Pop, how's it going?" It was so good to meet someone from San Francisco. In fact, he was the first San Franciscan I met in all my days in the US Army. My former army colleagues were from the deep South, mid-west and north-eastern part of the United States. Before long Bill and I walked over to his tent, and there I met Max Sailor, another San Franciscan! This called for a celebration of some sorts… Yep! Out came that whiskey I was saving for our honeymoon. We, along with an army chaplain, celebrated pretty good … a lot to recall of fond memories and war stories.
"In two days Bill and Max caught their ship to the United States of America, and shortly thereafter my group got aboard a Navy troop ship and were on our way to Boston, Massachusetts. About two days out to sea from Boston we heard our first radio commercial… On a freezing morning we arose to see the coastline of the United States off in the distance. We got off the ship and took a troop train to New Brunswick, New Jersey. There we were on a ‘hurry-up-and-wait' condition. It would be days before we boarded an airplane for California. It was brutally cold in New Jersey, and we got a chance to see New York. The next morning our group of officers was given the alert for boarding the bus to take us to the airport. We boarded a cargo plane, which would take us to our final destination - San Francisco - and into the arms of my beloved wife Dottie. Home at last !"
George met his sweetheart, Dottie, at Siegler's Springs in Lake County, California on the Fourth of July 1941. It was love at first sight. They married on June 24, 1944 in San Francisco, CA.
George graduated from Commerce Evening High School and continued on to Santa Clara University with a full football scholarship. He graduated in 1942. During WWII, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany. He was the Chief Secretary of the Economic Directorate (United States Element) of the Allied Control Council. He held the rank of Captain. During the Fall of 1945, he coached one of the first American football teams to play football in the history of Berlin, Germany.
After the War, he pursued his master's degree in Education from San Francisco State College. His first teaching job was at George Washington High School in San Francisco during the fall of 1947. He taught mechanical drawing and physical education and also became the head football coach.
After teaching at Samuel Gompers Trades High School (John O'Connell Vocational High School.) George transferred to Galileo High School in 1957. It was there that he became the head football coach. He taught many different types of classes, but primarily he taught U.S. History.
George and Dottie did some traveling after he retired from teaching in 1977. They traveled to Beijing, China in 1983 and later to Russia and Turkey. The purpose of the trips was to promote the love of roses. George was the Head Rosarian at Golden Gate Park. It was on the trip to Beijing that he brought roses from San Francisco and brought home roses from China.
George's fascination with short-wave radio allowed him to become a technical monitor for several international radio broadcasters: Australia, China, Israel, France, Turkey, Italy and England. He monitored up until last year and enjoyed every moment. Many interested people would write for information about how to listen to radio stations for their homeland. George was gracious and helpful.
Preceded in death were his parents John Fred and Hazel Nicholas Seminoff Poppin, brothers and sisters, John, Alice Pettibone, Jim, Nell Payne, Mary Andrews, Hazel Thompson, Dorothy Hollandsworth, Alex and Nick Papin, Fred, Bill and Hania Poppin, and Anna Seminoff.
Friends are invited to attend a funeral mass, on Thursday, March 4, 2010 at St. Cecilia Catholic Church, 17th Avenue and Vicente Street, San Francisco. Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma.
==============
LETTERS TO HOME & GARDEN
September 20, 2003Ruminations of a rose gardener
Editor -- I am a retired Galileo High School teacher and I try to maintain a rose garden of 45 bushes in the Parkside district here in San Francisco.
The contents of the enclosed letter to my children might be helpful to fellow gardeners as they reach the age of senior citizen.
GEORGE J. POPPIN, San Francisco.
THOUGHTS WHILE PULLING WEEDS
You're going to reach my stage in life one of these days so I might just as well pass on a few tips on living with older age. The one thing that you will notice at this stage of life is the overwhelming urge NOT to do things today that you can do tomorrow. Now, that bothers me a bit because I have always been a "go-get-'em" type of a guy.
I look at the garden, make plans to weed "tomorrow." Come tomorrow and there is a hang-up. So you postpone to another tomorrow. On and on it goes until you sit down and change into your gardening shoes at the door to the basement, go downstairs, pick up the rug on which you will rest your knees, pick up the long-handled, two-pronged claw, a 5-gallon white bucket for the weeds and head for the first spot that you intend to weed. It happens to be in front, by the 'Playboy' rosebush and to the left of the birdbath.
Now I venture in to do battle. I throw the rug down on terra firma, reach down and balance the weight of my body onto the two-pronged garden claw and slowly bend my body down to the rug mat. . . . Oh, my aching back, the knees pop and crackle . . . and I get down to my knees and reach over to loosen the long weeds with my garden claw.
As I pull up a clump of weeds with my right hand, soil trickles down onto my left hand and I think, "My goodness, Mother Earth feels good to the touch." The nice, soft earth gripped in a clump of soil brings an inner glow to my body. So this is what it is all about -- "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" -- my body will one day return to the soil from whence it originally came.
I further think our bodies are never too far from the ground as we tread about in our daily lives. It's as if the soil beckons us to be near it. Like "gardening" in the garden, most of our lives are centered on the soil. So why be hesitant about meeting our maker? We are halfway there already.
=================
Hi Nancy,
Thanks for letting us know. All I can say is we'll miss him. Uncle George: the man who made everyone feel important no matter who they were. Bob's been searching the SF papers to see if they do a write-up on your Dad. George did so much. Bob mentioned the shortwave; I remember you said he coached high school kids; and Dottie mentioned his enthusiasm for teaching rose care in Golden Gate Park. He came to see us with you and Dottie, kids of his old friend John Seminoff, who lived with his family in Placerville (that's how my Dad said it) for a time when they were kids. George stayed overnight in the barn on my grandparents farm later, when they grew up, on Stony Point Road, before heading out with Dad to the Russian River. They lifted barbells together.
I feel as badly about George's passing as I did Dad's, would you believe it? But I wanted to share a tiny miracle which occurred this morning at half-light, while Bob or Mike were still sleeping. It was raining. A good warm, decent rain, nourishing the earth and our arid lives. Two of my late daffodils, Mrs. R F Backhouse, the first pink daffodil hybridized in England, had newly opened, and nodding their fragile heads. They brought tears to my eyes, and I will tell you why: Plants have always been my inspiration and comfort when I've lost someone. When Dad died my dieffenbachia, a houseplant, burst into bloom, a rare occurrence according to Sunset Garden Book. When my Aunt Babe, Mother's sister, died, outside my back door I found a pink gazania, one I hadn't seen for many years, with three newly opened pink flowers. And when my sister Debbie died, we had a field of white mushrooms blanketing the grasses under the oaks everywhere, something so typically Debbie.
This hasn't happened since she died, though I've lost others. It was like Uncle George looking down on us, a blessing. It softened this heart of mine, which sometimes feels it's getting as stiff as my aging muscles and forgets about miracles. A gift from a man I and Bob and Mike all loved from the start. Mike took an instant liking to George,
and Mike's very particular.
You have the same quality George has, Nancy, a sincere and loving heart. Which made me love you, as well, from the beginning, though we didn't share our childhoods. God bless you.
I'm sorry we won't be able to attend George's memorial. It's just too far. What a nice thing to include us all as immediate family. Give your Mom a big hug, and tell her we love her. And take one for yourself.
Love,
Kathy, Bob and Mike
=============
From Dad's Guest Book
March 13, 2010
Dear Dottie and Family,
George Poppin was my Godfather, and I was so sorry to hear of his passing. My father was James Kearney who was a teacher, coach and ultimately principal at Galileo High School in the 1960's and early 70's. I know that he thought very highly of George, so much so that he asked George to be godfather of his long awaited first child. I have a great picture of my baptism from fall 1960, with George standing very stoically and Dottie with a terrific either navy or black hat with a white bow and a stunning suite to match. My Godmother was out of state, and Dottie very kindly stepped in for Barbara Guilfoil. I remember George's booming voice, large hands, ready smile and bear hug. Prayers for you all from the Kearney Family, my mother Nancy and brothers Jim and Steven.
Marianne Kearney Wright,
Altadena, California
March 04, 2010
Dear Nancy,
What a charming photo and loving story of your Dad. He leaves his family and his many students with wonderful memories. His was a life well lived.
Nancy Murphy, San Mateo, California
March 04, 2010
Nancy, I know this is a very sad time for you and your family, but how lucky to have had your dad for such a long and wonderful lifetime! My prayers are with you and yours as you celebrate his life.
Rosalie Savano-Woodhead, Placerville, California
March 03, 2010
To My St. Cecila Classmate Nancy, her Mom, and her Siblings:
Your Dad was so blessed to have such a long and happy life, and to be able to celebrate the marriage of his Little Girl to a wonderful man named Art.
He was truly a member of "The Greatest Generation."
You are in my heart and my meditations.
Jo Anne Quinn, Tidewater, Oregon
March 03, 2010
Was saddened to read of your loss. My sympathy to you Tom, and to your family.
Larry Magee, San Francisco, California
March 03, 2010
Dottie,
We love you. All of your friends at the Collins Center are here for you. George was a delightful person and you were so caring to him. We are so sorry for your loss. God bless George and all of your family.
With sympathy,
All of your friends at the Center
Diane Weinkauf, Pacifica, California
March 03, 2010
So sorry to hear of the passing of George. Dottie & I worked together for many years at St. Joseph's Hospital & I often wondered about both of them. So sorry to hear of your loss. I remember Dottie's stories of George& his collection of roses & how he cared for them. Please tell Dottie I think of her often and I send my deepest sympathy to her & all her family.
Claudette Thompson
Claudette Thompson, San Bruno, California
March 03, 2010
George was the most encouraging man we ever knew. If he only knew you a little while he remembered your name. He always had a friendliness which made you feel accepted and equal, that you could succeed. He was the family historian that brought a bond to many families together.
Kathy, Bob and Mike Dickerson
Robert Dickerson, Windsor, California
============
REMINISCENCES ABOUT THE WAR
By Olga Troshina
http://www.vor.ru/English/Victory/vict_26.html
There is a short portion of this writing that is about Dad during WWII
They were all war heroes - Russian, British, Canadian and American officers and soldiers, who fought bravely to approach our common victory. One of them was George Poppin in San Francisco, California. His parents were Russian émigrés, who came to America at the beginning of the 20th century. Here's an excerpt from a letter that George sent us some time ago:
"World War Two was at an end. It had been a long time since Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, which brought America into the war on December 7, 1941. The War to End All Wars came to a dramatic halt in May of 1945, and in no time American soldiers were singing, "Oh, Mr.Truman, when can I go home" to the tune of a Nazi Germany hit song. They had had enough. They were tired, emotionally wounded, weary and longing to see their families and loved ones. Thus, I found myself on the northwest tip of France in one of the United States military camps. The camp was a tent city for returning soldiers awaiting troop ships that would take them back across the Atlantic Ocean from war-torn, destroyed and miserable Germany after World War Two.
"There he was, Captain George John Poppin, tense with nerves as tight as the strings of a bull fiddle and emotionally distraught. There were three other officers in our living quarters. My worldly possessions were all contained in a footlocker and two duffle bags. The footlocker contained a quart of Seven Crown whiskey, which I managed to "liberate" in Germany. I was saving it for our second honey-moon with my darling wife, Dottie, once I got back to San Francisco…
"It was in a large dining hall of tent that I heard someone slap me on the back and shout, "Hi, Pop, how's it going?" It was so good to meet someone from San Francisco. In fact, he was the first San Franciscan I met in all my days in the US Army. My former army colleagues were from the deep South, mid-west and north-eastern part of the United States. Before long Bill and I walked over to his tent, and there I met Max Sailor, another San Franciscan! This called for a celebration of some sorts… Yep! Out came that whiskey I was saving for our honeymoon. We, along with an army chaplain, celebrated pretty good … a lot to recall of fond memories and war stories.
"In two days Bill and Max caught their ship to the United States of America, and shortly thereafter my group got aboard a Navy troop ship and were on our way to Boston, Massachusetts. About two days out to sea from Boston we heard our first radio commercial… On a freezing morning we arose to see the coastline of the United States off in the distance. We got off the ship and took a troop train to New Brunswick, New Jersey. There we were on a ‘hurry-up-and-wait' condition. It would be days before we boarded an airplane for California. It was brutally cold in New Jersey, and we got a chance to see New York. The next morning our group of officers was given the alert for boarding the bus to take us to the airport. We boarded a cargo plane, which would take us to our final destination - San Francisco - and into the arms of my beloved wife Dottie. Home at last !"
Inscription
CAPT US ARMY WORLD WAR II
