PART FOUR
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
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.
One vacation day, Dorothy and Junie piled their usual stash of towels, books, and beach food in the rear seat of Bub’s car and headed toward Rye. Junie had been invited to the ocean with a family called the Greens, and Dorothy planned to retrace her two-mile swim out to the lighthouse and back. “Drove Junie to Rye to Greens. First time I’ve been down there and curiously enough felt no heartache, no longing for old times or the lovely gardens and home. G.P. sounds sick and blue on the phone. He is lonely, I know.” I am certain that my grandmother gained no pleasure in his continued suffering.
But Dorothy was homesick for Fort Pierce and missed Eff terribly. She writes of her frustration, waiting for his letters, which were rare. He was not the sort of man who communicated with words, and even his phone calls were few.
SEPTEMBER 13, 1930 Eff phoned me last night and I loved hearing his blessed old voice. I believe he’s actually, really in love with me. Yet for the life of me I can’t understand it. Of course, I do know perfectly that he wouldn’t have married me if I hadn’t had money—couldn’t have.
Once back in Fort Pierce, however, she shared a passionate reunion with Eff and all her doubts dissolved. Both of them resumed their work, wielding machetes and slashing through the undergrowth, taking enormous pleasure in the physical nature of the job. Dorothy was unfazed by the discomforts, the snakes, insects, and poison ivy during those blistering summer months. The palms, pines, and vibrant blue and orange vines were marked to be saved. The giant oaks were also tagged with bright yellow ribbons; Dorothy rescued fifty small oaks and carried them to the perimeter of the eighty-acre site. The young saplings were replanted along the east and south boundary lines where she interspersed each one with a clump of bamboo, planting them side by side as windbreak for her future citrus grove. “Farm—picnic—home for swim. Moving lilies, putting giant bamboo at North and West entrances. And every 100 ft. too on south line. 1 bamboo, 2 water oaks. On East End (Lateral), 1 bamboo, 2 Australian pines.”
She had chosen pecky cypress, the old southern swampland timber, to be used throughout her rambling house. One of the new house’s most distinctive features was the roof of imported Italian tiles. Balconies and loggias were fashioned at different levels and angles circling the house. There were six fireplaces and four chimneys, with arched openings to keep out the fierce Florida rains. From a short distance, the creamy stucco reflected a soft pearly light in the midst of the tropical umbrella. Dorothy had created a fascinating treehouse, set snugly in a natural garden the size of a public park. For her birds, she designed several water fountains built into the exterior walls, and beside each one stood screen-enclosed feeding stations. Finally, a decorative balconet with the carved inscription “Immokolee” was added onto the outside of the vaulted-ceiling living room beneath a miniature window.
The locals marveled as the Uptons’ custom-made materials arrived on freight trains from Palm Beach and New York. They gaped to see such exotic furnishings, including cypress doors and one-of-a-kind polished brass screens. China and crystal in heavy barrels rolled off the train. Walnut plates and bowls and hand-hammered sterling silverware were among the items loaded onto a truck and delivered to Immokolee.
After a hard rain, Dorothy discovered a natural swale of groundwater beneath a circle of small cypress trees. Delighted, she roped off her future lily pond and designed the home’s entrance around this low-lying feature.
Covered with mosquito bites, the Uptons returned to New York for two weeks. At summer’s end, Alice and Edwin Binney organized a neighborhood reception to welcome Dorothy’s new husband. “Mother’s big party—reception and music, etc. All the Binney Lane and Sylvan Lane neighbors in to meet us. And supper. Met the unhumorous and self-made Col. Schick of razor blade fame, also others. Worked on Journey’s End most of the day.”
Frank returned to Fort Pierce while Dorothy remained behind to go over the Florida house plans with Robert Duncan, a local architect. She was also busy putting the final touches on Journey’s End, which was exploding with summer colors from the garden beside the new swimming pool. The transplanted iris bulbs—so reminiscent of G.W.—had been the first to bloom.
AUGUST 18, 1930 I’m happy to he returning to Eff for I’ve missed him tremendously of late. And I’m keen too, to see the Farm and what’s been done. Eff has been living on black coffee during my absence! Not so good!
AUGUST 20, 1930 Eff met me at midnight all fresh and strong and tan. He’s so utterly gorgeous looking always. He’s the way God meant men to be I’m sure. Vigorous and healthy and well muscled, Home and to bed in a leisurely adorable way and we lay talking and chatting in each other’s arms for hours. Coffee at dawn! And another day.
Her life was spent in the “hammock” of snarled oaks with tall, slender palms crisscrossing and snaking their way upward into the sun. Dorothy relished the job of measuring and marking trees while noting various species of birds. She discovered nests and rare orchid sprays and had begun to recognize Florida’s colorful snakes. Wearing high-top boots, she wasn’t afraid of the rattlesnakes, corals, or water moccasins. Just as she had done with George while building Rocknoll, Dorothy designed her Florida home to sit snugly among the native trees without destroying the bearded old giants that had originally claimed the land several hundred years before she arrived.
SEPTEMBER 8, 1930 Mon. Farm and picnic lunch. Trees, new part of road. Planted 10 papayas, tuberoses and fragrant ginger lily. And on Saturday Mr. Hale brought a dozen more vines to put in the trees. White jasmine, blue thumbergia and brilliant yellow begonia. Dinner.
Dorothy insisted upon finding the perfect name for the home and grove. She first considered naming it Huimanu (which means “Rendezvous of the Birds”), as a reference to the new couple’s tropical nest. In the end, she chose Immokolee, the Seminole Indian word for “My Home Place.” In her diary for September 28, 1930, she noted: “Up early again. Out to ‘40’ to set north line for a row of bamboo. It poured hard and we were all entirely soaked! Home, dry clothes, dinner and over to beach for swim (after a nap). ‘IMMO-KO-LEE’ Seminole (My Home Place). Our grove name.”
Between the birthing of her new home and nurturing her eight-year-old son, Dorothy felt richly rewarded. Her years of pain and confusion had vanished; she had found a place of her own.
SEPTEMBER 29, 1930 Town early to start June at school. He goes to 4A which is quite normal (and pleases me as I taught him at home last year) Farm for lunch. Very busy. I Plowing!! Set out 26 clumps of bamboo along north road. Killed small rattler.
The three Uptons were becoming comfortable with frontier Florida. Dorothy had already discovered the outdoor wonders of her newly adopted state: excursions to the crystal pools at Silver Springs, exotic drives through marshlands teeming with bird life, trips to the Everglades, and boat rides through the Thousand Islands. By the time George Weymouth and his new bride, Deo, first came to Fort Pierce in October 1930, Dorothy was intimately familiar with the Florida landscape and took pleasure in serving as official guide for her guests. “George Weymouth and his bride of a month, arrived at 11 p.m.! Great reunion.” It was during her visit to Old Greenwich the summer before that the threesome had planned their trip to Silver Springs. She and G.W. had both found contentment in their marriages, but Dorothy still delighted in his company and thrilled to his laughter once again. “Farm—to ocean, then a grand roughhouse swim back at pool with the rubber animals and a BAND! Late dinner and off at 5 pm for Silver Springs. Highballs at Hotel Marion, Ocala. G.T.W., Deo, Eff, D.B.U. Moon, long roads, chatter, songs.”
Although Eff denied feeling jealous of G.W.’s wild sense of humor and handsome physique (and his rather acrobatic habit of walking on his hands), he could not hide his possessiveness. “Breakfast in our room. Then all down to the Springs. The glass-bottom boat, a swim. Drive in moonlight. Eff hurt and obviously jealous which pleases me.”
But soon, Dorothy became aware that Eff’s mood swings were not as innocent as she first thought, and his jealousy was no longer flattering:
OCTOBER 7, 1930 I shouldn’t he pleased at his jealousy, but such fury and anger does mean he cares, and wishes to monopolize, despite all his protestations. And sometimes his silences and inarticulateness are a little disappointing. Moonlight drive and a romp on ocean beach. Bed, silently and apart. And still the resentment.
OCTOBER 8, 1930 Farm, picnic lunch and a sweet “make-up” but no admission of Jealousy or hurt. Maybe he doesn’t yet recognize the fact.
That month, my grandmother—at the age of forty-two—thought she was pregnant. At first she was terrified, then as the possibility became real, saddened by the fact that Eff was not pleased. Indeed, he became even more sullen and distant.
She was anxious about her husband’s reaction and could only wish for a change of heart. Once again, her insecurities were surfacing. “I hope he cares.”