My first memory of a major television event is the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II in 1953. I was five. I remember sitting on our living room floor transfixed by the pageantry on the small screen encased in our light blonde wood cabinet that also held a record player and shelves to store the vinyl. I transitioned from this event to a lifelong fascination with the Royal Family. Why?
Maybe it was this fantasy story my dad wove for me: He was in London when World War II ended and had been to a party at which he danced with Princess Elizabeth. One day he was summoned by a palace messenger named Lord Fitzcrumpton (a name Pops embellished with rolling R pronunciation–OK, you had to be there…) who said the princess wanted him to come to Buckingham Palace. In the story she asked him to marry her. He said he couldn’t, because she wasn’t Jewish, and his parents wouldn’t approve. (Early indoctrination!) Despite her disappointment, the princess gave him a star sapphire ring by which to remember her. THE END.
You can only imagine how romantic and enthralling this was to a five-year-old. My dad did have a sapphire ring as evidence. But it was a wedding gift to him from my mother. Now it’s my son’s.
Even as I was just beginning to read, I learned about Royal relatives, dead and alive, from books that began to come my way. We had cousins in Canada, and when my parents and grandparents went to a family wedding in Toronto, they returned with the first few slim volumes, mostly pictures. This was only the beginning. When I was nine, and she was 31, I wrote a letter of birthday greeting to the Queen. I still have the framed response from a lady-in-waiting on crested Buckingham Palace stationery. This got me a photo and article in the now-defunct Milwaukee Sentinel. And I have amassed, first from family and friends, later from my own travel and antique stores, several shelves of Royal Family mementos.
Of course, actually seeing the Queen was a bucket list goal before anyone knew about bucket lists. I have–twice: in 1957 she came to Chicago and paraded down Michigan Boulevard. My mother and I traveled by train from Milwaukee that morning and, through a connection of my grandfather, had a reserved view from the second floor windows at an elite men’s tailoring firm. The second time was in 2013, when Eli and were in London during the Queen’s Official Birthday celebration. We watched that parade from a spot along the Mall and then hurried toward the palace for a really good view, especially with a really good camera lens, of her appearance on the balcony (the photo above).
A hobby (obsession?) like this may sound frivolous, but I think it was the beginning of a fascination with history and historical research. It’s no accident that the wartime radio broadcast of the young Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret thrilled young Lily in After the Auction. The younger members of the family were less interesting to me than their predecessors. Diana wasn’t a favorite; she was treated badly but also had her “issues” (read Megan). As for the newly ascended King Charles, well, it’s kind of nice to see someone my generation begin a new, responsible “job” (such as it is!).
Speaking of generations, my granddaughter Mirah, just five, became somewhat fascinated with my royal memorabilia when she visited this summer, and she and her dad and sister watched the funeral from home in Beijing. She’s started “reception,” the equivalent of kindergarten, at British School Beijing and wears a uniform with a crown on it. Mirah said they hadn’t discussed the Queen in class until she informed her teachers that “the Queen is died.” 
Since the Queen’s demise (on Eli’s and my wedding anniversary), my collection may have increased in value. But I’m not selling. It’s staying in our non-royal family! Someone may want it.
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