Whistled Like a Bird, page 16
Although determined to seek a better life, even now she still entertained the faint possibility of reconciliation—a result, no doubt, of feeling alone in a strange town. “Wire from G. a long letter and a phone at night. It was grand to hear David’s darling voice, he seems so far away from me and as if I were losing him for ever! What can I do? Go back, begin all over, stay there forever and relinquish all ideas of my pleasure in sex relations? God, I wish I knew.”
Unknown to Amelia, George continued to write a steady stream of emotionally charged letters to my grandmother. Letting go had not been easy for either of them, but I know of the two, the separation was harder on him. “Mail, from George, a positively devastating long letter. He’s sad and blue and miserable, and feels utterly ‘lost’ at not having me to come back to, etc. I’m sorry, sick at heart, but unchanged. Blue and depressed. Bed early and a book.” They had already agreed on joint custody of their two sons. Dorothy would receive $5,000 in cash, and George agreed to pay all of David’s yearly expenses, and half of Junie’s.
She was still moved by his unwillingness to let go, and continued to agonize over her decision to divorce.
OCTOBER 16, 1929 George writes me daily letters, always now very sweet and affectionate. He’s suddenly realizing what it means to be without an “anchor,” a somebody in the background who is responsible for making a “home” and its atmosphere. He is alternately furious at my “damn foolishness” and pleading with me to change my mind and come back. It makes it hard, awfully. It would be easier to fight and row! And yet why? Can’t two intelligent people remain polite and considerate after they’ve gone thro’ the years as we have? Oh, it’s hard!
Frank Upton was already in Fort Pierce waiting for her, and she wired him from Reno: “Dearest Heart, if I were in some enchantingly beautiful place I would be longing for you, too, to be there with me, to share it. And I am, and I do!” Despite her tender words, Dorothy had not yet decided to marry him. She wrote to her mother in Fort Pierce and reserved two apartments; one for herself and a separate one for him.
By the way if there are still two apartments free, I’d better speak now for them and will begin paying rent on January 15th. I’d like one furnished one and the last unfurnished one to which you sent your odds and ends of furniture. Frank could sleep in that one, till later, and then we’d only need the one kitchen and ice box, etc. And I’d still have an extra bedroom for guests.
They spoke regularly by telephone, but the two-month separation was difficult, and Dorothy was simply not convinced that she and Upton would be happy. In his absence, their differences had somehow become magnified. For one thing, he was eight years younger. In the beginning this was appealing, but it now seemed to reflect his immaturity and financial insecurity.
NOVEMBER 7, 1929 Oh, Eff was comforting and dear last night His love for me I never question, out he’s so totally unlike me mentally and socially, I fear sometimes. But he’s younger too. And poor, God, can we make a go or it??? Is it possible with everything against it except physical passion and peaceful friendship? I don’t know. In 3 years I shall be dead—suicide or death—or divorced again. Death, I hope. But what about Junie? He still needs me! Oh, dear! How sad and what a mess to thus dissolve a family.
Dorothy’s uncertainty about her future was never greater; she was bowing to inevitability. In the midst of a divorce, this period must have been terrifying for her, still questioning her future. “There’s much of me never leaks out or comes near the surface these days. I’m stifling and squashing a whole side of me forever. Life from now on will be very different, poorer, more suburban and certainly not so intellectually or socially exciting. Please God, may the Other compensate!”
Her own insecurity, bred by her mother, played a role. Dorothy questioned Eff’s love for her, and worried if she was worthy: “How can Eff possibly love me and want to marry me? He’s so young, so free, so entirely undomestic and unattached? What can he see in me—older—life all messed, not beautiful—and only an income! I don’t know really if Eff can remain faithful to just me after knowing so many women. And I never for a minute doubt my faith to him till all eternity.”
On the eve of her divorce, my grandmother was haunted by happy memories. She recalled with nostalgia Mount Whitney, Bend, Rocknoll, and the first herb garden George had planted. She had imagined that her final hours as Mrs. Putnam would be filled with relief. But eighteen years had solidified into something unforgettable. She could just remember the good times.
Still deeply uncertain about the divorce, Dorothy’s final entry reads simply: “Misery!”
The only thing she was certain of was her need to be herself, and to know that in her heart, she was truly alive.
DECEMBER 19, 1929 Couldn’t sleep; couldn’t eat! Mailed one letter early. Then to Court House or Washoe County in Judge George A. Bartlett’s Chambers. All very simple and quiet It’s done.. I’m unmarried from G.P.P. forever. How scared and empty I feel!
PART FOUR
1930–1982
Life is an illusion. We get nothing that we hope to get.
Or if we get it, we never keep it.… No love lasts.…
And that is what we are wanting always.… Not only
to get it, but to Keep it.
There may be a perfect time; a perfect relation; but just as
we grasped it, realize it, it begins to change.
Does it always fade?
And change?
I’m afraid so—yes.
D.B.P.
14
AN ORANGE GROVE FOR
A GARDEN
DECEMBER 20, 1929 So, I released him just so he could marry her. She’s to get my husband, my house, my lovely garden—but not my Furniture! Odd fate! The country has been whispering with suspicious gossip! Now it’s over.
MY GRANDMOTHER WAS SICKENED BUT not surprised when she picked up the morning’s paper in San Francisco to read the story about her divorce. It focused on the fact that George was finally free to marry Amelia Ear-hart. “Cupid Their Next Pilot” must have stung her, and may have provided the very reason she needed for marrying quickly. Her diary entry shows she was obviously hurt. She refers almost reluctantly to the news story: “George got his divorce in Reno today.”
Leaving San Francisco and continuing on to Los Angeles by train, Dorothy was met at the station by Junie and his nanny, Mae Bergquist. They had arrived the previous day, and had already collected the dozen or so suitcases and delivered them to the El Salvador. “L.A. by 9:30 and drove out to Wilmington docks instead of train. Just as well I went early for ship left at noon instead of 5:00 p.m. as posted.”
Trying to elude photographers on the afternoon of December 21, Dorothy, Mae, and Junie boarded the ship and settled into their small first-class quarters. The nine-day cruise to Panama would eventually reunite Dorothy and Frank. “Oh, the heavenly let down. Thank God, to he away from Reno! Don’t know how many of the people aboard know I was on the front page of the L.A. and Frisco papers two days ago. But I don’t care. We’re off.”
On the first day at sea, Dorothy found a solitary spot on the promenade deck, and wrote that she was eager to see Eff.
DECEMBER 22, 1929Heavenly clear warm tropic Jay almost no motion at all. Have 2 deck chairs on secluded spot on “star deck” way off from everyone else. And just sit looking off at the horizon. I want—Oh, God how I want it! To go way off to far parts of the earth for a year with Eff to be with him, to see together strange places and people, to weld our lives together by our experiences as well as our emotions. Doesn’t he feel this urge? I wonder? How does he see us growing together. In suburbs?
DECEMBER 23, 1929Two weeks from today will I see the familiar and beloved back on the dock awaiting us at Balboa? I pray so. UP on my sunny top deck at a.m. Nap alter lunch and then pleasant enough dinner and bed early, Watched sun set for an hour and had a plethora of thoughts that would sink an ordinary soul!
Dorothy stood up from her deck chair and greeted the formally dressed purser who had come to deliver a radiogram. It was Christmas Eve. As she read the message, tears welled in her eyes. Deep down, George Weymouth was the only man she wanted, and she couldn’t have him. What did it matter if she decided to marry? “Adorable radio [gram] from G.T.W. ‘Missing you terribly. Merry Xmas. Happy New Year. Greatest Love—Child’ Bless him, anyway. I shall always love him,—always.”
At sunrise, the ship pulled along the rocky coast of the Gulf of Tehuantepec, and Dorothy, Mrs. Bergquist, and Junie prepared to go ashore and take the train ride from Champerico to Guatemala City. The irony of returning to her honeymoon location was not lost: “Strange to be here! 18 years ago I began my married life here and am now ending it. Untangling the last skein of it. Bought some Indian textiles for a Spanish house of the future.” In the same country where she and George had ascended Mount Acatenango, Dorothy was now haunted by unhappy recollections of her first marriage. She even had rewritten her memories of that honeymoon voyage and reflected on what happened later. “That other ‘long-ago’ wedding of mine seemed so unreal and as if it had never been. I remember the cold day, the swim! Red roses. Ugly trousseau clothes which distressed me. It wasn’t very thrilling or romantic or pleasing.”
A week later, the El Salvador slipped through the Panama Canal and docked in the seaport town of Balboa. Frank Upton, a tall, muscular, dark-haired hero, was the first in line to welcome its passengers. He had arrived on the Pennsylvania, steaming across the Caribbean from Miami. Frank and Dorothy’s relationship would no doubt be scrutinized by friends and family, but for now my grandmother believed she had found a man to save her from loneliness.
Barely a month after the divorce became final, Dorothy remarried.
JANUARY 12, 1930
Married: Exactly at sunset
Full moon rise
On the Star Deck, (above the bridge) of the S.S. El Salvador
To: Frank Monroe Upton
By: Capt. Henry Stephenson, Chief Officer
Elmer Abbott and Mae Bergquist and Eve Lundstedt, witnesses
Dinner in Captain’s Room
Danced late—At 2:00 a.m. a full rigged four masted schooner—near us in the moonlight.
Four days later, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Monroe Upton arrived at their new home. Back in Fort Pierce with its endless stretches of serene white beaches, stately whispering coconut palms, and the Indian River that cut a blue swath between the barrier island and the mainland, Dorothy finally seemed at peace. For years she had visited the little-known citrus town with a mind to moving there one day. “A sleeping, sleepy little town,” in the words of her sister, Helen B. Kitchel. She recalled Fort Pierce in the early 1920s as described in Helen’s book, More Memories.
I remember vividly our arrival by train just before dawn. Enough daylight to see Bub on the station platform with his loving smile of greeting. A three or four block drive through a sleeping, sleepy little town toward the east. As we approached the Indian River, the sun rose and revealed Bub’s ship, the Florindia, moored to the crude dock. I remember Bub’s obsession over the potentialities of the place, not only his land and groves, but the little town which consisted of a few blocks of houses and shops. He envisioned a thriving coastal trade in fruit and vegetables as well as other commodities.
At first, Dorothy’s marriage was idyllic, and the sultry days were filled with pleasure. Eff proved an attentive lover, and a satisfying one:
FEBRUARY 12, 1930 All these happy days are far too personal to write about. We’re deliciously in love—the way the kids are, only we mustn’t let them know it. We read aloud in the evenings; I comb Eff’s hair while he sits at my feet with his head in my lap. And he’s a dear and satisfying lover—always.
The couple occupied two large adjoining apartments at the Casa Caprona, and Dorothy was content to call the Spanish-style complex home for the time being while she and Eff planned their permanent residence.
Before they had begun to look for land, they escaped into the winding waterways to enjoy some of their favorite sports. Dorothy had already bought a boat for both river and ocean fishing, and Eff’s passion was his sleekly powerful bi-wing Standard airplane. Between the two activities, they were never at a loss for excitement. The highly charged couple never stayed in one place for long. They thrilled each other with their eccentricities and wild, spur-of-the-moment junkets.
It is not surprising, given my grandmother’s love of the theater and her fascination with Spanish architecture, that she quickly discovered a movie house, the Sunrise Theater. (This early downtown landmark is now being restored as part of a movement to preserve the historic center of Fort Pierce.) One block west of the Indian River and across the street from the St. Lucie County Bank building, the Sunrise Theater would become Dorothy’s local version of Broadway.
Arrangements were made for Junie to attend the nearby one-room school on Indrio Road, while Dorothy began to search for the perfect setting for her new home. In Reno while waiting for her divorce, she had clipped magazine photos and doodled sketches of houses. It had not taken long to find two separate forty-acre tracts, not on the water as one might expect, but in the wild, most heavily wooded acreage of undiscovered St. Lucie County, which suited Dorothy and Eff’s sense of adventure. Few Floridians built in such an isolated part of the county, with the exception of her parents, who had done the same thing in 1913. The site the Uptons had chosen was four miles from the Binneys’ farm and seven miles from Fort Pierce. In those days, this was considered extremely remote.
When Dorothy first saw the land, she chopped a narrow walkway into dense, steamy jungle. It was almost impossible to visualize it as a homesite, but it held a mystical allure for her. The adjoining acreage would be cleared for citrus trees and would surround the lush jungle hammock, which marked the future construction site:
MAY 5, 1930 Drove all over Cobb’s 40 acres again, measuring distances, etc, 3.8 miles from Florindia 7 miles from town. And each time the hammock seems thicker and full or finer big trees than I dreamed of.
MAY 9, 1930 Bought Cobb’s 40! $2775. Started six men clearing the jungle “hammock” with grub hoes.
MAY 14, 1930 We’re buying a l–½ ton Chevrolet truck for the clearing at the place. And a 10–15 Caterpillar tractor. And we’ve cashed in the darling old 1928 Chrysler 75 “Blue Heaven.” I shall get a new 77 in New York. And Eff has bought a little Ford Roadster, “Bouncing Bet.”
In the midst of preparing the woods, Dorothy thought of G.W., their “anniversary,” and their love. Her memories would never die, and she decided to wire him a message. “Wrote G.W. My little garden is prolific! And I’m giving away little table bouquets daily.” Even after her second marriage, this anniversary also drew a special notation in her diary.
MAY 19, 1930 This day is “Fixed” in my memory. It’s an anniversary—an adorable and unforgettable one.
MAY 23, 1930 The new “40” is increasingly beautiful and each time I go there I find another big oak or fine tree! Yesterday a four foot oak entirely swamped with air plants. There are thirty to forty oaks about 4′ 5″ to 5′ 6″ in diameter. And big pines and tall palms. I’m struggling to keep June’s school work going. But it’s hot and he’s restless.
MAY 30, 1930 Tried to lay out house on our new “40.” Packed up and tidied up my affairs so’s to go north. There’s water under the big central oaks. It’d be lovely for a lily pool. The woods are alive with new noises.
I can imagine my grandmother during the first days of thinning out the land, her hair tied back with a scarf. Her hands must have been blistered and callused by the time the tangled thicket was tamed. She knew and loved every inch of the property, as my husband and I do now.
Dorothy selected Franklind W. Tyler as the builder for her home, then reluctantly left Eff, and traveled with Junie to New York in search of roofing tiles and furniture. Mugo Court had finally become her second home. “To town again to get some rugs (3 big ones), three big comfy chairs and a sofa, A few small things for the new Florida house. Wrote Eff my daily scrawl. Read aloud to Junie on the couch in p.m. ‘Ivanhoe.’ It’s quite like old times in Rye all that last year when he and I were alone together so much.”
She spent part of the summer in Old Greenwich, and the depression that had clouded her previous year lifted, much to the relief of her sisters and parents. They were reassured by the deep devotion she obviously felt for Eff. She seemed now to have put the relationship with George behind her. “… G.P. keeps phoning here—daily calls to David or Junie or about something. I’m glad to realize how totally detached I am for I never want to see him again as long as I live.” Dorothy was still in Sound Beach several weeks later when she wrote, “G.P. had his Garrison bungalow last weekend for a pleasant two days with Amelia. (Well, I’m glad he has someone to sleep with and be ‘gay’ with occasionally.)”
During her final days there, George Weymouth’s parents and brother Bud spent the night with her and Junie in Sound Beach. It was on this trip that Dorothy renamed Mugo Court Journey’s End. “Mr. and Mrs. C. A. Weymouth and the handsome ‘Bud’ here overnight. My, they’re a lovable family.”
G.W. also came to visit, accompanied by an attractive young heiress, Deo duPont. They had met the previous summer at a dude ranch in Montana and had fallen in love. Now he was anxious to introduce his future wife to Dorothy and the Binneys. “George Weymouth and Deo duPont, Betty Chester.… A mob, a crowd, but all pleasant. Out on Bub’s ‘Dunworkin’ for an hour, then home and music and cafeteria supper.” Though Dorothy was in love with her handsome new husband, she must have felt a twinge of envy in the presence of G.W.’s charming young fiancée.
