Gladys Brandt:
A lady of class
and a bit of brassShe was a great lady, she gave us direction." The words came from Frank Brandt, Gladys Brandt's nephew. Thousands of her students and friends feel the same way about the remarkable educator who died Wednesday night at 96.
A successful Hawaiian businessman who was disciplined by Brandt when she was a principal on Kauai definitely feels that way. According to a story Brandt told former Star-Bulletin staffer Arlene Lum, the big Hawaiian boy beat up a small Japanese boy in school. Brandt took the big boy to the woodshed with the strap and then suspended him.
When the big boy returned to school, she had him act as the guardian angel of the smaller boy so no one else would beat him. Years later, the big boy invited Brandt to his home for dinner and told her that had he not been disciplined, he would have landed in prison.
Brandt also told Lum that when she was a young teacher on Kauai the teachers lived in small cottages and were monitored by a strict male principal to make sure they behaved. The teachers played mahjong for money and would have "a little tipple," as Brandt put it.
To avoid getting caught, they set up an elaborate security system to monitor the principal so the teachers were alerted when he made his rounds. When she became a principal, this activity no doubt helped Brandt thwart rascal students who would try to put something over on her.
Sally Apgar, who wrote the Star-Bulletin's fine obituary on Brandt, has a classic story about the much-respected lady. She calls it, "Sally Meets Aunty Gladys."
Apgar said: "In July 1997, I arrived in Hawaii and immediately set to work on the unfolding Bishop Estate story for the Honolulu Advertiser. For several months, as I was doing stories, I would call Gladys Brandt hoping to get some insight or a comment. And always, she never returned my calls or, if I did reach her, she would tell me with sweet politeness: 'Not now, dear. I'm having tea with some friends.'
"Sometime that fall, I was at a formal dinner where she was honored. I waited at the end of a line of well-wishers, so that I wouldn't be in the way and could be the last to speak to her. When my turn came, I smiled politely, held out my hand to her and said quietly: 'Ms. Brandt, I am Sally Apgar, a reporter for the Advertiser.'
She replied, still holding on to the tips of my fingers, 'Yes, dear, I know who you are.' She smiled her brilliant way. I tried to make my case as a member of the press, but felt very humbled under her stare and choked out in a very quiet, polite voice something quasi-coherent like: 'Yes, Ms. Brandt. I'm covering Bishop Estate and have tried to reach you by telephone many times for your help on stories. And I haven't been able to reach you. And I thought if we met face to face, it would be better. You see, you haven't returned my phone calls.' Without missing a beat, she replied, all dignity and calm and still smiling: 'And I still won't, dear.' "
Ben Wood is a Star-Bulletin copy editor and columnist. My Turn is a periodic column written by
Star-Bulletin staff members expressing
their personal views.