Through art and charity, antiques dealer carries on husband's memory
Jane Roesch is a gift to the city of Pittsburgh, courtesy of her late husband.
Had it not been for the frank and ambitious William Roesch, a self-made man in the tradition of Andrew Carnegie, another city might have been the beneficiary of his wife's contributions as cancer activist, arts supporter and entrepreneur.
The two met in Oakland, Calif., nearly 30 years ago at a dinner prior to a symphony concert.
"It was love at first sight for both of us," says Roesch, owner of Merryvale Antiques in Shadyside. "He was so dynamic and interesting. I loved his realism, his frankness."
Jane Roesch grew up the youngest of nine children in Piedmont, Calif., across the bay from San Francisco. William Roesch was a native of Vestaburg, a coal-mining town in Washington County, Pa. He worked his way up from the mines to the presidency of Kaiser Industries in California, and later, president of U.S. Steel.
"It took him 17 years to go through college, because he had to go through night school," Jane Roesch says. "He's a lot more interesting than I am."
The couple moved back to Pittsburgh. They were married only eight years when William Roesch succumbed to a brain tumor.
"He was 58 years old," says Jane Roesch, with a sigh. "You just can't imagine."
Out of this loss, she began to make a new life for herself. She joined the advisory council of the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute, which conducts research into cancer treatment.
Dr. Ronald B. Herberman, founding director of the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute, describes Roesch as someone who can be counted on.
"I have a very strongly positive feeling about her," he says. "I think she's a wonderful person. I'm very pleased that she's had the time to help us here at the Cancer Institute."
The Institute began with three employees in 1985.Today, it is the research component in a network of more than 2,200 employees, with satellites in Johnstown, Upper St. Clair and Latrobe. The network sees more than 25,000 cancer patients.
The Cancer Institute conducts research in the fields of cancer vaccine, surgery and molecular therapeutics. They work closely with the UPMC Cancer Center, which treats cancer patients. Both are housed in the new Hillman Cancer Center, a crown jewel in Pittsburgh's medical community.
In addition to attracting world-class research scientists, the Hillman Center has contributed to the region's economic health, spurring the construction of at least one hotel and various other businesses. Sy Holzer, president of PNC Bank, Pittsburgh Market, and chairman of the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute Advisory Council, credits Roesch's work in contributing to the growth of the enterprise.
"Jane is one of those individuals that any board or council would covet," Holzer says. "She has great insight. She's been a significant contributor to the Cancer Institute for years, well before me."
When she's not overseeing the delivery of an armoire to her antiques shop or discussing her last buying trip to France, Roesch is helping to establish a Pittsburgh chapter of Gilda's Club, a nationwide cancer support network named for the late comedian Gilda Radner.
ARTS
It was the arts that brought them together, and it is through art that Jane Roesch has celebrated the memory of her husband. In his honor, she donated a magnificent Richard Serra sculpture to the Carnegie Museum of Art in Oakland. Patrons attending a ballet or musical at the Benedum Center might notice the name of William Roesch on a tall gilt mirror on the right landing.
She has served on the boards of the Pittsburgh Opera, the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and the Historical Society of Western Pennsylvania.
Currently, she serves on the Pittsburgh Public Theater board, where she works in development ("getting money," she confides with a laugh), and is active in the Birmingham Foundation, which funds charitable programs dealing with health-related and human services.
"When I think of Jane, the word 'lady' comes to mind in the classic sense," says fellow Birmingham Foundation board member Ken McCrory. "Not in the blueblood sense, but somebody who is very warm and friendly and knowledgeable and cultured. Just somebody that you would like to get to know."
Her evaluation of her own contribution is typically modest.
"I do whatever is required," she says.
She's a lively and gracious presence at Merryvale Antiques, which recently moved to its permanent location on Ellsworth Avenue in Shadyside. The white Victorian house with blue trim reminds her of her San Francisco girlhood.
"It did in a way," she says, as a 1913 Westminster clock chimes the hour. "But it's really just a charming street for antiques."
She began her antiques business as yet another way of coping with her husband's loss.
"I grieved for about four or five years," Roesch says. "Then I decided I had to get interested in something."
She emptied out the antiques in her house and Carmel, Calif., where neighbor Clint Eastwood used to jog by. She opened Merryvale Antiques in Penn Circle, East Liberty, before eventually moving to Shadyside. It took several moves before she was satisfied with the location.
"I'll end my career here," she jokes.
The three floors of Merryvale Antiques are full of English silver, Country French furniture and American impressionist art. They're the contents of French chateaus, English mansions and industrial estates.
This is no fusty old museum, however. There's a lively and life-loving sensibility at work at Merryvale Antiques. For example, one can purchase Victorian-era lawn ornaments, such as a rabbit that once served lop-earred guard duty in a Frenchman's garden in 19th-century Rouen. On the second floor, atop a Country French table, sits the top half of a wooden mannequin whose black beard makes him look a bit like King Neptune. The carved effigy has hinged arms and painted eyes. His torso terminates in a framework of sorts. It's a saint from Spain, designed to be carried on the shoulders of pilgrims during religious festivals.
These pieces can be said to illustrate the same approach that Roesch took to dealing with the loss of her husband: You can't change the past, but you can retain the best parts of it.
