The Spy Next Door – Thoughts about Elizabeth Sudmeier

Elizabeth Sudemeier in about 1937

Dear Friends,

If you were ever to live next door to a retired superspy, say a James Bond or Jason Bourne, would you be surprised if you never knew it? The spy I knew was never seen doing wind sprints through local parks, lifting weights in the basement, or cleaning guns, as you might expect from an off-duty field agent. When this spy came in from the cold, it was me who shoveled the snow from her front walkway.

From about the time I was born until the time I graduated from college and moved to California, I lived next door to Elizabeth Sudmeier, one of the founders of the CIA, and a trailblazer who broke a glass ceiling for women who worked in intelligence agencies. She evidently had nerves of steel and could speak many languages. Like me, she was an English major in college. She went on missions, developed sources, and trained recruits.

I knew none of this. To us, she was the slightly odd woman next door with a living room that featured a pink Victorian chaise lounge and matching fancy chairs. I never felt well-dressed enough or clean enough to sit in her home, but when I was invited over, I would always be eyeing the individually-wrapped hard candy in a cut glass bowl with a pedestal base. Candy was such an important part of childhood back then.

Elizabeth’s large framed landscapes seemed like originals to me, likely representations of the rolling prairies of the land around Timber Lake, South Dakota, where Elizabeth was born and raised. She had a Poodle named “Gigi,” and sometimes her sister would visit with her two Boston Terriers. Elizabeth attended church regularly, though I don’t remember which one.

Elizabeth and my family lived in almost identical row houses (we had adjoining porches separated by a low gate that, as I finally grew taller as a teenager, I could simply step over). Depending on where the sun was, sometimes our pug Spindle would lounge over on Elizabeth’s porch, listening to the constant humming exhalations that Elizabeth made while nursing a drink and sitting on our elevated porch overlooking the alley. She could see easily into the back yard of Dischord House, where Ian MacKaye, Alec MacKaye, and Amanda MacKaye buried their iguanas and formed their punk bands. Alec would eventually inherit Elizabeth’s Ford Galaxie.

I have memories of playing in Elizabeth’s basement while her housekeeper Mercedes did laundry. I remember watching Happy Days in the spare bedroom on the second floor. I remember looking through catalogues of themed birthday cakes – one year it was a Beatles cake, another it was a pool party with surfers and surfboards – that Elizabeth would get out about a month before my birthday and my brother Oliver’s birthday.” Cake and birthdays were a big deal back then. I remember her address at 2456 Tunlaw Road and her phone number: 202 338-1380. That number is currently disconnected.

I seemed eager to eat those birthday cakes, to let my dog Spindle do his business in Elizabeth’s ivy-covered side yard, and to be paid to mow Elizabeth’s yard or shovel the snow from her walkway or driveway, but I don’t know that I ever sat down with Elizabeth to ask her questions about her youth, about her family, or about her work in government. She had wonderful stories to tell, though she was likely not permitted to tell most of them.

Luckily, The Wall Street Journal has done some uncovering of this spy who lived next door. Journal author Nathalia Holt published a story (“The Women Who Helped to Build the CIA”) on September 24, 2022 that begins with this paragraph:

“Elizabeth Sudmeier loitered outside a cafe in Baghdad one day in early 1954, taking care not to draw attention to herself. It was not easy for a young American woman in the Middle East to blend in, but Sudmeier, her colleagues would later attest, was practiced in making herself disappear in any setting. In a few minutes, the man she had been anticipating, the one she had spent months persuading to meet her, arrived, handed her an envelope and moved on. Sudmeier, one of the female intelligence officers who helped start the CIA, had just stolen Soviet secrets. In her hands were the blueprints for the MiG-19 jet fighter, just gifted by Moscow to the Iraqis to gain favor in the region.”

Reading a Wikipedia page and the CIA page about her special commendation, and learning more about her work in Baghdad from this excerpt from the Nathalia Holt book Wise Gals, I discovered all this about superspy Elizabeth Sudmeier long after I moved from Tunlaw Road (she died three months after we sold out house – maybe she missed us that much?), long after I moved to California, and long after my memories of our neighborly conversations had faded from my aging brain.

I’m approaching the age now that Elizabeth Sudmeier was when she was forced to retire from her work as a spy. I’m grateful for any time that she spent watching my brother or me while my parents were away, I’m grateful for the many birthday cakes, and I’m grateful for all the hard candies that I surreptitiously palmed while passing by her cut-glass bowls, all paid for by her CIA pension.

Looking back at the self-centered and hopelessly irreverent boy that grew up on Tunlaw Road, I think I could have been a better friend or neighbor. With all the decades between 2024 and my last missed opportunities to converse meaningfully with Elizabeth Sudmeier, how does one make amends?


I hope you can join us on an especially warm evening for a pub quiz at Sudwerk in Davis. Bring your team to the beautiful outdoor patio where the misters are misting and where we have room for almost everyone. The jollity will be unfiltered. As Saint Augustine allegedly said, “Good times and crazy friends make the best memories.” Tonight some will want to play indoors. I encourage you to come early to snag a table. We filled the restaurant and patio last week.

In addition to topics raised above, tonight’s pub quiz will feature questions on streaming music, Texas stories, tribes, Cary Grant, pugilism, Brazil, people named Morgan Jones, hot water jobs, securities, perceptual properties, toast, pseudonyms, dystopian players, beliefs, swing states, Vietnam vets, Roman emperors, faraway lakes, government jobs, comforting forests, technology drops, alternatives to Singapore, laces, a question that becomes a name, pre-history, muffins, TV hosts, Ohio heroes, people you would like to greet, permissions, committees, old people, AI artwork, sequel reunions, current events, books and authors, and Shakespeare. Sometimes a question is substituted at the last minute because of the day’s news.

Thanks to all the new players joining us at the live quizzes and to all the patrons who have been enjoying fresh Pub Quiz content. Thanks especially to new subscriber Sophie! Every week I check the Patreon to see if there is someone new to thank. I also thank The Original Vincibles, Summer Brains, The Outside Agitators, John Poirier’s team Quizimodo, Gena Harper, the scintillating Mavens who carefully take note of casual adjectives and precise pronunciations, and others who support the Pub Quiz on Patreon (where I am also sometimes sharing drafts of poems). Hello to Ellen. I would love to add your name or that of your team to the list of supporters. I appreciate your backing this pub quiz project of mine! 

Best,

Dr. Andy

P.S. Find here three questions from last week:

  1. The California Legislature. What is the term length for a California State Senator? Four years
  1. Science. What three-letter acronym do we use for a nucleotide that provides energy to drive and support many processes in living cells? Adenosine triphosphate (ATP)
  1. Books and Authors. The title of what Joseph Heller novel has become a synonym for an absurd or contradictory choice? Catch-22

P.P.S. “Opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.” Andy Rooney