11
“George’s obsession for A.E. and his clamor to be with her every minute, all day, every day on one pretext or another will give me the very excuse I need for a separation—if not a divorce. 8 years ago, April, I asked for a break; anything as long as I didn’t have to live with him. And he broke down and cried, and swore he couldn’t imagine living without me… I wish almost, I cared.”
THIS MUST HAVE BEEN THE MOST DIFFICULT time in my grandmother’s life, to realize that her friend and her husband had fallen in love. From reading the diaries, however, I know she did not blame them. But how hard to face her family and friends when they heard the rumors that he had chosen another woman. She must have wanted to tell the world, “I also love, and have been loved too.” At least if her secret had been known, she would not have been perceived as the victim. She was too proud to gain any pleasure from pity, and she was beyond jealousy.
Reading the diaries for the first time, it shocked me to learn that my grandmother’s anguish over G.W. and her strained marriage had prompted thoughts of suicide: “Feel depressed and sad, that ghastly futility, when even music and the garden fail to stifle the charm of suicide.”
An abiding sense of comfort was visiting her son David at Hotchkiss. “A little music, a chat, and suddenly it’s time to drive to Lakeville for David.” G.W. couldn’t stay away from Dorothy, and despite their agreement, he called to say he also wanted to visit David at school. It had been a week since they had last spoken, and she knew that severing all ties would be impossible. Even if they were not lovers, they knew it would be foolish to believe their lives would not continue to be intertwined. “G.W. brought a Yale crew man here yesterday. They drove to Hotchkiss in the old Chrysler. Returned here for supper, very late.”
By October 12, news of Amelia’s impending solo transcontinental flight dominated the conversations at Rocknoll again. She was reported to be somewhere between California and New York, attempting to become the first woman to break this barrier. Dorothy anticipated George’s extended absence from the house and family once again. “Just heard Amelia’s on the last lap of her flight across continent and return. I have a strange detached sort of feeling about things and perhaps it’s just as well. As if nothing mattered particularly and that I must just take each day as it comes, without any question or longing for it or things to be otherwise.”
Within aviation circles, Amelia’s prowess as a pilot was hotly debated. Some considered her inept, and among the hard-core flyers there was the usual jealousy: “I dashed to dinner and dance in town at ‘Heigh Ho.’… Cocktails at the Barclays, then met, primarily three aces—Lyons (Capt.), navigator of the Southern Cross and Capt. [Bill] Lancaster and Mrs. Miller, who flew to Australia. Too much drinking and poor dancers.… Gosh, how these three flyers loathe Amelia! It’s a shame.”
On October 15, Amelia successfully completed the record flight. As she touched down on the grassy landing strip at Bowman Field, my grandmother recalled that giddy morning in August when the two had taken off in the Avro Avian. “All morning phoning, etc. to and from Amelia. It’s foggy in N.J., smokey. Finally at noon, she landed at Bowman Field. A month ago she flew from there across continent and return—some 7,000 miles solo! Great stuff!”
Despite the growing tension between them, Dorothy still held Amelia in esteem and owed the flyer a debt of gratitude for breaking new barriers for women.
OCTOBER 20, 1928 George and I drove to New Haven. Met Amelia for buffet lunch at G.W.’s fraternity hall and a mob of boys. Then to Brown Game. 32–7 favor Yale. Darcy Kellogg came unexpectedly. Then to Lawn Club for dinner. Air Conference, G.P., G.W., Amelia, Darcy and I. Amelia spoke, etc. Dull dinner tho’, then drove home to Rye and sat before the fire drinking milk, till late.
OCTOBER 21, 1928 George and Amelia horseback all morning. G.W. returned from Yale in time for dinner. Then he, G.P. and I went to the shore to await the “Ireland” sea plane. (Amelia packed her stuff after 15 weeks here.) Had a short flight with Capt. Lyon and Capt. Lancaster (famous navigator of “Southern Cross” across Pacific, etc.) Big party at house in p.m. Showed Amelia’s movies of “Friendship” flight. A frenzy of airplanes and excitement and turmoil inside me.
The day following the dinner party was particularly unnerving for Dorothy, who writes that she suffered from nausea. She ran from the house, sickened by the fact that once again she had paraded her false life as Mrs. George Putnam before the crowd of ambitious aviators. She knelt on the brittle autumn leaves, alone and torn over whether to end this deceit, whatever the consequence.
Toward the end of October, after George and Amelia had spent several nights in Manhattan, Dorothy writes: “George stayed in town last p.m. with Amelia. But I don’t care.” By now, she was determined to gain her freedom. “Apparently George and I face our final separation momentarily. Oh, it’s all so very upsetting and hectic.” The following day in the early darkened hours, George came to her bedside. Overcome with emotion, both wept openly.
OCTOBER 22, 1928 A quiet let down day which began when George came in to my bed at dawn and cried. I guess we’re all wrong, both or us and we’re messing up our two lives pretty thoro’ly for no special reason. But, oh for years, its been so antagonistic.… And yet I am passionate and demonstrative. Why, oh, why should I want another’s touch and embrace!
Dorothy blamed herself as well as George. Years later, she hinted that the divorce might have been a terrible mistake. But she was not the sort of woman who ever admitted making a wrong decision. There was no question, however, that her husband loved her and tried to win her back.
NOVEMBER 4, 1928 Sun. The house is a display of red leaves and flowers and fruit—very charming. G.P. and G.W. off for a ride.… Dinner and more music and again, inroads of people.… Then supper and G.W. back to Yale… and suddenly it seems quiet and lovely again. … Life is odd. G.P. is determined to woo me and win me all over again and he’s certainly concentrating. He’s even breaking dates with A.E.!
NOVEMBER 5, 1928 Life is topsy turvy and now G.P. is apparently breaking off all his dates with A.E. as a sop to me! Funny—And I’m trying, rather stupidly I feel, to calm myself and quit worrying and settle down to the humdrum existence or middle aged women! Men at this stage, just begin to have their fling. And we usually go in heavily for politics or bridge or movies! And meanwhile I’m just fool enough to be in love!
Among the flyers who gathered at the Putnam home was an intensely attractive young man who now began to pursue Dorothy. Frank Monroe Upton, an acquaintance of the family, had reappeared after two years at sea with the U.S. Navy. “Frank Upton arrived for all day and overnight, after two year silence and disappearance. He’s as nice as ever. G.P. to town to go over movies, etc. with Amelia. Frank and I drove to Sound Beach to see Helen and Happy.”
During World War I, Upton had received the Congressional Medal of Honor for bravery. In 1917, he dove from the deck of his destroyer near the French coast and swam through burning debris to rescue sailors after their ship had exploded. More recently, in 1926 aboard the SS Roosevelt, he had participated in another heroic rescue by saving several crew members from a sinking vessel. For four days into a midocean storm, the Roosevelt anchored alongside the battered HMS Antinoe, which was rolling and shipping water over her decks. For this exploit, Upton and Captain George Fried were awarded medals and honored by a ticker-tape parade in New York City.
Though Dorothy regarded Frank as “an odd duck, perfectly simple and single track,” she was smitten by his celebrity status and flattered by his attentions. “Yet he somehow gives an impression of depth and contradictoriness which isn’t there. If he had better teeth, he’d be a very stunning man, very much a ‘mere male’ tho’.” “Eff,” as Dorothy was quick to call him, was aware that his rough manliness appealed to her proper upbringing and that her marriage to George was floundering.
While Frank was a weekend guest at Rocknoll, Dorothy had asked him to leave the family to themselves for a few hours. For the very first time, though it was a dubious undertaking, all four Putnams were planning a two-week holiday together; and on November 13, Dorothy felt surprisingly optimistic: “We’ve decided to go on a 16-day West Indies cruise—all four of us. And I feel sure it will be a great lark if we can just meet each other halfway!” David was home from Hotchkiss, and George had actually broken a date with Amelia in order to join Dorothy and the boys in finalizing the details of their Christmas cruise. These hours would be remembered for their unprecedented closeness and good humor.
Two days later, George joined Amelia on a ten-day speaking tour. Dorothy typically had little to say about their trip: “George and Amelia off to Pittsburgh for 10 days.” But the business relationship sparked further rumors and the story threatened to break into print. “Hub has heard gossip and talk about G.P. and Amelia, and whispers of a ‘Putnam break-up’ and he’s unhappy about that. He doesn’t want us to separate, and feels we’re both foolish to let things go too far.”
George was clearly ambivalent himself.
NOVEMBER 22, 1928 Wire from George. He and Amelia flew from Columbus to Cleveland, just ahead or a snowstorm. Funny, but at last his behavior with her is making him very self conscious. He tells me in every wire, etc. or their being at separate homes, etc. And there’s much comment and speculation he now recognizes. Yesterday a news agency called Hilton to ask if there’s truth to the rumor of a “Putnam divorce”—for Earhart? And poor sentimental Hilton is very obviously worried! Ah well, I’ll have to go on the West Indies trip just to save George from a nasty bit of “Earhart and Putnam” gossip.
On November 23, 1928, Amelia publicly announced she had broken her engagement to Sam Chapman.
DECEMBER 2, 1928… altho’ George had been back from his jaunt to Chicago over a week, we still have not slept together. I’m indifferent and apathetic. … Perhaps never again will we live together, except as rather antagonistic friends… free, and yet more bound than ever, because age and conventions have jailed one.…
DECEMBER 11, 1928 G. left long before I was even awake! Busy all day around house. Town at 5:30. Cocktails with Fitz and G.P. at Coffee House and then dinner and actual tête-à-tête theatre for George and me. It’s almost astonishing for he’s only been out in public socially with Amelia since early June! While I’ve been with 10 different ones. Corking play, “Holiday” which Ted declares is absolutely D.B.P. Rebellion of smart girl against money.
Dorothy shifted her focus to her seven-year-old son Junie, who was seriously ill with pneumonia and bedridden for two weeks. It was not surprising that during her vigil, G.W. returned to Rocknoll to offer his comfort. “Junie has pneumonia, dear little brick! And he’s been awfully patient and good except one spasm today when he ordered the nurse out of the house! I was so worried and panicky because it has seemed as tho’ my own fear was bringing this on.” G.W. stayed by Dorothy’s side to help nurse her son. He couldn’t completely break away.
DECEMBER 14, 1928 Today’s G.W.’s 24th birthday and he’s such a kid. But good natured, cheerful, slow to anger and lovable. George as usual can’t resist his sarcastic references to my interest in kids and callow youths! It’s easy to understand tho’ for they are, in their 20’s, and are what we married. Young, enthusiastic, happy, with no ulterior motives in every contact. God, no wonder one turns from the preoccupied, overworked, irritable, disillusioned man or 40! Thank Heavens, there are “callow youths” in the offing to make one forget!
On the eve of their West Indies vacation, a blistering cold wind had forced their outdoor barbecue inside. Amelia Earhart, Don Blanding, George Weymouth, Frank Upton, and Hub Hutchinson, now writing music criticism, comprised the loyal entourage that gathered for the farewell. As always, the notion of adventure energized the house, and for once not a single family member would be left behind. It was a belated show of familial closeness.
“Don and Amelia overnight, left with G.P. early. Then Dave, Junie and I with all bags drove to ship. Frank, Betty, Mother and Bub to see us off. Sailed on S.S. Duchess of Bedford for a 16 day cruise to West Indies. Dave, Junie, G.P. and I—our very first trip anywhere for all of us together!”
Edwin Binney’s shock of white hair stood out among the crowd as the Duchess of Bedford moved away from the dock. Dorothy and her father locked eyes. Bub was troubled over his daughter’s future, yet he deeply admired her. He knew she was incapable of living life according to society’s demands. This last Christmas vacation that the family would share was taking place at sea, a bittersweet reminder of George and Dorothy’s honeymoon cruise seventeen years before. “Christmas. Gifts and good day. Deck sports and swims. Santa Claus party for children. Horse races, gay, noisy, and drinks and dance.”
The merriment ended abruptly on New Year’s Day when Dorothy received a cablegram in Havana with the shattering news of her brother’s death: “Folks arrive Sound Beach Saturday with June’s body. Hope you can get home in time. Helen.”
Dorothy was at the mercy of the slow-moving cruise ship. For days she was sick, often bedridden. Despondent, she questioned whether her own behavior might have caused her brother’s untimely passing.
JANUARY 3, 1929 At sea. Unhappy and blue about my brother’s death. Not yet 30, a Yale Ph.D. and Professor of Geology and holder or two world records in swimming. Why did he need to be taken so soon? What is this reasoning Power? And when does it ever prove its necessity or Rightness?He is to be buried in the old graveyard in Sound Beach where Mother bought a plot years ago, believing or course, she and Bub would lie there first!
JANUARY 5, 1929 Sick in bed, really, and just so ill I had no desire to get up all day. Dr. called twice and nurse attended to me, but felt miserable and unhappy. Perhaps all of this is payment for my sins: a just punishment the Bible says. Yet that can’t be for why should my sins be visited also on my poor family. But sorrow and illness and oh, a cruel cold ache or rebellion way down deep in me.
JANUARY 7, 1929 Not off the ship till 10 and then customs! Harold to meet us, drove home with all the baggage. Drove to Sound Beach with David early afternoon. Mother sick in bed. Bub sad and Betty and Dwin and nurse there. Hub here and G.W. to see us when we came down.
Walking upstairs, Dorothy knelt at her mother’s bed. The tragedy was senseless. “G.W. off for Yale very early and David back to Hotchkiss. My own mind and heart are clearing. I shall work hard on my music, help Junie with his school, and really turn over a new leaf and try to amount to something! Oh, help me! A visit with Mother who is still sick in bed.”
Dorothy and her father had rarely used her bedroom as a place to visit, but the adjoining sitting area with the cozy fireplace offered the privacy they needed. The death of a son and brother, along with Dorothy’s revelations of a loveless marriage, brought them closer now. They discussed her buying or renting Mugo Court, the home just across the lane from Rocklyn that the Binneys also owned. Dorothy and her mother had already examined the vacant house with an eye to refurbishing it, and Edwin hoped that Mugo Court would become his daughter’s refuge.
Edwin was planning a cruise to Florida on his remodeled yacht, now called the Florindia, with his wife scheduled to join him later by train. He invited Dorothy to come. It was an appropriate time to be with her parents, and in particular her grieving mother, who was still under a doctor’s care. June’s death was a crushing blow and the thought of a divorce was too painful for the Binneys to bear. “Right now my own plans are shot. For Mother has already insinuated how much it will hurt her and Bub to have me separate or divorce! What strange unexpected things life does to us! And I was sure this was the time!” Dorothy, relieved to get away, accepted her father’s invitation to travel south for the remainder of the winter months. Once again her official separation from George would have to be delayed.
During the month prior to Dorothy’s trip, her home had become a way station for adventuring celebrities. “Capt. Bartlett, Jim Pond and Capt. C. S. Knight (English birdman) for dinner. A trained golden eagle. Newsmen and movie men. House crowded. Mobs, crowds, talk, and I slunk away to play the piano. Can’t bear it!”
Amelia had become George’s main preoccupation, and Dorothy, formerly her greatest admirer, was beginning to note her failings: “Amelia has never written me about my brother’s death. She’s spent the weekend here and not mentioned it although I’m in mourning. Nor has she spoken of my Christmas gift to her. Nor did she even speak to the three servants in the house although she spent 12 solid weeks here last summer! Is it bad manners… yet ‘she certainly manages herself wonderfully,’ says G.P.”
What’s more, she was stung by the fact that people were whispering behind her back.
JANUARY 19, 1929 G.P. introduced Amelia at the Geographic Society in Washington last night. Still appearing with her publicly all over the country and apparently totally unaware or his ludicrousness in telling me whom I shall or shall not go around with! I’m bored, and soon must boil over! Fitz said, “It’s a good thing she’s coming up for the weekend; in a way it will squash some of the comments about her an G.P.” Corey [Corey Ford, friend and author] said, “Well Rye at least will know you don’t care particularly whether G.P. and A.E. are going around together all over the country!” Queer!
By now, my grandmother’s words were harsh. For the first time she revealed her anger at and disappointment in both her husband and Amelia.
JANUARY 24, 1929 Evidently everything I say of A.E. he goes and blabs to her! It’s clockwork and obvious and a little disgusting when he’s so eager to convince me he never discusses me with anyone! He immediately calls her up, tells her, reminds her and like a brainless puppet she does whatever he advises! Lord, how she must loathe it if she stops to think! “You must write Dorothy about her brother, You must mention her Christmas gifts to you, etc. etc.!” Ugh