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The Willow Glen Resident

Photograph by Skye Dunlap

Arbuckle Up: Helen Arbuckle, shown here with her mint-condition '69 VW Bug and her cat, Abby, is writing a book about women in San Jose history.

Helen Arbuckle writes 'herstory'

Historian's widow fills in gender gap in husband's work

By Cecily Barnes

Ninety-year-old Helen Arbuckle unlatches the silver padlock on the garage behind her Willow Glen home and slides open the tall, wooden door. Inside is her 1969 cream-colored Volkswagen Beetle--still in mint condition and in the hands of its original owner. She climbs in, throws her arm across the passenger seat, revs the engine and steadily backs out of the garage. Through the small driver's side window, Arbuckle smiles and flashes a spunky look.

"Sometimes I'll stop at a traffic signal on my way back from the store and someone will ask me, 'Do you want to sell your car?' One time I said, 'OK, $5,000,' " she laughs. With ease, Arbuckle engages the E-break, shoves open the heavy door and steps into her driveway.

Her driving skill is only one of Helen Arbuckle's attributes. She walks with agility, and is sharp as a tack, asking about the medium the newspaper uses to develop its film and other thoughtful questions. Tickled that she's being interviewed--"It was always my husband," she says--Arbuckle has quite a lot to say. Perhaps most significantly, she talks about a book she's writing, documenting important women in San Jose's history. The book will cover the Spanish period up to when Janet Gray Hayes was mayor.

"I think that was sort of the apex, because you can't get much better than being mayor," she says.

In the same Willow Glen home where San Jose historian Clyde Arbuckle meticulously crafted The History of San Jose, Helen now has her own work in progress. And her book, she says bluntly, will fill in the gaps in her late husband's work.

"[Clyde] wrote nothing about women at all in his book," Arbuckle says. "There's a lot of stuff he could have written."

Helen Arbuckle became interested in San Jose's "herstory" 20 years ago, while digging up a topic for her meeting of the Monday Club, an informal women's study group that meets at different people's homes.

"I thought, 'This will be easy with all the stuff Clyde has around,' " Arbuckle recalls. "I picked the usual source book, and there was nothing. I mean there were women, but they were always the wives of some man who had done all these things, and the woman hadn't done anything."

Of course, San Jose had to have important women in its past; they just hadn't been written about, Arbuckle says. And so in the late 1970s, she began her research. One of the most noteworthy women she discovered was 1800s feminist Clara Foltz.

"I would look at these old newspapers. They're brittle and really fine print," Arbuckle says. "I started looking, not for anything in particular, and I came across the name Clara Foltz. I turned a few more pages, and there was Clara Foltz again."

A feminist in the late 1800s, Foltz decided to become an attorney at a time when women simply didn't do that. After being told to go home and watch her children by a number of lawyers, Foltz finally found a mentor. In order to take the next step into law school, she lobbied the California legislature to nix the part of the constitution that reserved law school for white men only. In 1878, the law was changed. Still, she was denied admission to Hastings College of Law and was forced to wage yet another battle for her right to practice law. She sued the school and won, becoming the second woman to practice law before the state supreme court. The feminist lawyer also happened to be the daughter of San Jose Mercury Herald publisher Charles Shortridge, Arbuckle says.

"She was speaking on women's rights in 1869. She had gone to Grass Valley to speak on women's rights and was charging people 10 cents to listen," Arbuckle says.

Pursing her lips and straining her brow, Arbuckle promises there are other noteworthy women; she just can't recall them off the top of her head.

"I have an interesting relationship with my memory," she smiles wistfully.

What Arbuckle can say for certain is that she's already knocked out a few chapters. To prove she can write, she pulls out a binder full of her clips from the Mercury Herald and the Pioneer Society.

The book will be done when it's finished, Arbuckle says. "Each year it gets set another year ahead."

Surrounded by the stacks of books, manuals and old photos that make up Clyde's valuable historic collection, Arbuckle explains why she never asked her husband to include women in his history of San Jose. "It wouldn't have made a difference," she says with a smile. "He's a 19th-century male."


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This article appeared in the Willow Glen Resident, July 8, 1998.
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