PART THREE
A phone [call] from George. I go to Boston
tomorrow. I shall see her [Amelia] depart I trust.
What nerve, courage, intelligence and faith!
Or perhaps it’s fatalism. If I go, my reputation is
made forever; it I’m lost, I’m always a mystery…
or what do I care!
D.B.P.
7
“Illusions, not realities make life bearable. This dangerous age? When is it? Surely 38 is the age when women most desire an attractive man’s admiration. It probably comforts one to think we are still attractive, but more than that we want to feel power.”
MY GRANDMOTHER MUST HAVE KNOWN that the affair with G.W. was ultimately hopeless, and that the possibility of admitting adultery might cost her custody of her sons. She continued to play the role of Mrs. Putnam.
Calling downstairs to George one morning in early May, she announced that she would take him to the train. Harold, the Putnams’ chauffeur, had already started the motor when she tapped from inside the bedroom window and motioned that she would drive Mr. Putnam.
Bounding down the stairs, she found George sitting with his open newspaper, more preoccupied than usual. As always, he looked studious and neatly dressed for the city. His still damp hair was meticulously combed straight back in the fashion of the day, and his white collar stood up stiffly inside the dark, tailored suit. His wife’s presence caused him to look up, collect his papers, and stride out to the car beside her.
Speeding over to the station, George hurriedly began to tell her about a secret project he was involved in—something that had come up quite by accident and had the potential to become another sensational book along the lines of Lindbergh’s We. He did not have time to elaborate, except to say that it involved a top-secret trans-Atlantic flight. “A wild scrabble to get G.P. off. Missed the very early train by 2 minutes, A futile rush—but it turned out all right.” She would not hear anything more for several days.
Returning home, Dorothy anticipated G.W.’s arrival. But the day so filled with promise would turn sour when her young lover showed up with an attractive young companion, Darcy Kellogg. Dorothy was stunned by the attention that G.W. paid to Darcy. “They stayed late into the evening.” She recorded her underlying disappointment and hurt: “An odd business, Darcy is most attractive, intelligent and talented (cello) and I believe G.W, is very fond of her.” After the cordial good-byes, Dorothy sought comfort at her piano, but even the soft music could not soothe her. The old insecurity had surfaced. Could G.W. really love her, so much older than the girls he knew? How could she possibly compete?
Meanwhile daily life at Rocknoll kept her distracted, and later in the week, after a visit with G.W., she decided to continue the affair despite her doubts, although the emotional confusion left her exhausted.
MAY 7, 1928 Oh, Oh—Thank God! For strangely, unexpectedly and happily I am suddenly freed from a wretched indecision or mind. A misery hanging over me many months — a compelling force or desire has ceased to function. I am free, free or it and recognize it in a certain sense or rapture, in myself. Floating, with a mind and body at length unpossessed by any thought or another!
But the next day she appears to have regretted her decision:
MAY 8, 1928 Even sin is to be made as difficult as possible. And I had imagined it so easy! Will God ever forgive me for not committing the sins intended for me! Well, I nave committed some perhaps, very mud ones. But, often my conscience hurts me and I’m full of remorse. We’re such ridiculous chicken-hearted souls at best!
Dorothy broke down and wrote a farewell note. She was heartsick and more alone than she had ever felt. She sought solace in the multivolume history of civilization by Will Durant, seeming to need that moral justification for her decision. “Wrote a ‘goodbye’ note today! Durant says Christ was a great moralist, not necessarily a great thinker. Confucius, Plato, Aristotle, Spinoza, Copernicus (Earth round), Francis Bacon, Kant, Newton, Voltaire (Emancipator of Mind), Darwin (Evolution). Oh, there’s Spring in my nostrils and the orioles are here again.”
Amidst Dorothy’s turbulent odyssey, George Putnam was on the verge of helping to make aviation history.
He arrived home one evening in mid-May bursting with pride over the mysterious project he had alluded to a few days before. Once again, he enlisted his wife as partner. They sank back on the sofa in the living room with their legs propped on a huge storage trunk that served as a coffee table. Dorothy sat motionless as she listened to his story unfold. A wonderful promoter, George reveled in the role of publisher and adventurer as he unveiled his plans, describing the series of interviews and discussions he had held over the past few days. As he would later recall, “Just then my career as a publisher of exploration and adventure books was in full cry. And here I had stumbled on an adventure in-the-making which, once completed, certainly should provide a good book.” By the end of the evening Dorothy was convinced that her husband was about to embark on the most ambitious project of his career.
Over the years he had given financial support to many unknown young adventurers, and now was enlisted to find the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. He was convinced that the story would be another bestseller for G. P. Putnam’s Sons and that he would find just the right candidate. In George’s own words, “I was commissioned to find an American girl who would measure up to adequate standards of American womanhood.”
George had heard quite by accident that a wealthy socialite from Pittsburgh, Mrs. Frederick Guest, was searching for a suitable candidate to be the first woman to cross the Atlantic Ocean in an airplane. Mrs. Guest, an amateur pilot herself, had originally planned to make the flight but had been dissuaded by her family for safety reasons. Already, six women had risked their lives attempting to set other flying records. The dangers were real, and Mrs. Guest’s family were adamant in their decision. Nevertheless, Mrs. Guest had leased a tri-motored Fokker floatplane built originally for Richard E. Byrd’s Antarctic expedition and now renamed the Friendship. Two accomplished male aviators had been selected as well. Wilmer (“Bill”) Stultz would serve as pilot and Lou (“Slim”) Gordon as the plane’s flight mechanic. Before Mrs. Guest bowed out, she stipulated that her replacement be a well-educated “lady pilot.” The candidate was required to be physically attractive and—like Mrs. Guest— possess all the social graces that reflected the appropriate image of a modern American woman.
Through the Putnams’ friend Hilton Railey, George had heard of a potential candidate named Amelia Earhart, who was living in Boston. Railey had met with the young flyer on April 25 and described her as a “female Lindbergh.” My grandfather was intrigued by the comparison.
George’s initial interview with Amelia Earhart in early May 1928 had been brief and not entirely positive. Her first reaction to him was somewhat harsh, as he had kept her waiting. He noted later: she was “sore as a wet hen!” and Amelia had not disguised her annoyance with him.
Nonetheless, she was instantly intrigued. “Unquestionably, George was enormously attractive to women,” recalled his friend, the playwright Robert E. Lee. “A trim but husky hulk of a man, handsome, irascible, sly, opinionated, a total stranger to fear, gifted (or cursed) with a vinegar wit, the champion of raw charm.”
A settlement worker at the Denison House in Boston (where Dorothy and her Glee Club had once performed), thirty-year-old Amelia Mary Earhart was an experienced flyer. She was the first woman to be granted an air license by the National Aeronautic Association, receiving her certificate as a pilot in 1923. She was also deeply committed to the advancement of aviation, and particularly concerned with introducing women to the daring and exhilarating freedom of flight. Amelia’s qualifications perfectly matched Mrs. Guest’s requirements. She was intelligent, tall, and poised, and she became George Putnam’s immediate choice for the secret crossing.
Only three weeks would pass between Amelia’s first meeting with Hilton Railey, her interview with George Putnam in New York, and the scheduled date for the Friend-ship’s departure. My grandfather was determined to invest his considerable reputation on the risky flight and immediately left for Boston, where the crew was waiting.
Dorothy enjoyed having the house to herself. Gardening, reading, music—and of course sharing it all with G.W.— seemed a fair exchange for George’s involvement with the project.
Though her role with the flight’s backers was strictly social, at a luncheon Dorothy appeared fascinated by the company.
MAY 15, 1928 Hated leaving the garden and out of doors to go to town. New maid, Swiss-German with no English! Dined with multi-millionaires, Mr. and Mrs. Phipps, their pretty daughter, Peggy, and nephew, Tony Guest and Lord Elgin at Colony Restaurant. It’s Mrs. Guest (English sister of Phipps) who bought their big plane soon to go to London with American girl flyer!
George was infatuated with Amelia and spoke freely to his wife about the young woman’s intelligence and friendly manner. He also noted her graceful hands, her gray eyes, and quick laughter, describing the aviatrix as someone Dorothy would enjoy knowing.
May 19 was the one-year anniversary of Dorothy and G.W.’s love affair. “A delicious soft rain just saturating my lovely ferns and garden! I watched two thrushes building in the dogwood on the terrace. And it made me a little breathless for various reasons.”
As much as she had wanted to be a part of her husband’s venture in those first few weeks of May, she could think only of G.W., and had even devised a code name for him and their affair: the “child.”
MAY 19, 1928 The child is one year old, the darling and I adore it! Occasionally he seems almost intelligent enough to understand. He recognizes colors or sunrise, songs or birds, and once he thrilled over the moon. He can’t talk, he is rat and strong, but his appetite is normal. The rain, the woods, ferns, azaleas and new dogwood trees. All day outdoors and loving every minute or it, every drop or rain.
With George acting as Amelia’s agent in Boston, my grandmother and G.W. celebrated their anniversary together. In spite of all the difficulties, this improbable union had lasted an entire year. Both decided not to question the future.
MAY 20, 1928 Still a bit damp and off to the woods again, George in Boston expecting his girl flyer to leave at any dawn, great excitement and very secret. Buffet supper at Sound Beach and afterwards the Arctic movies and G.W. gave a very easy and good talk, substituting for George still in Boston. Slept on loggia and it seems so completely heavenly and in the woods. Deliciously sleepy.
MAY 21, 1928 Awake with the thrushes song at dawn and lay listening for an hour all warm and sleepy. Then drove to the beach. The stillest kind or sort, gray day, rippleless and the sandpipers scurrying ahead or the incoming tide. But I doubt if she [Amelia] flies. Transplanting, garden, birds, letters, music.
On May 22, after George had been in Boston for four days, he called Dorothy and asked her to join him. He was responsible for Amelia during the waiting period and decided she needed the support of a female companion who knew the specifics of the secret flight. Dorothy was the ideal choice, and she was pleased to be among the private group of supporters. With uncanny intuition, she wrote of the dilemma facing Amelia: “A phone [call] from George. I go to Boston tomorrow. I shall see her depart. I trust What nerve, courage, intelligence and faith! Or perhaps it’s fatalism.If I go my reputation is made forever, if I’m lost, I’m always a mystery, or what do I care!”
Dorothy became a witness to history, and her diary is a firsthand account of that frustrating period in Boston waiting day after day for a break in the weather.
MAY 23, 1928 To town early and then took I o’clock train for Boston. G.W. came to see me for the minute or two I was in New Haven, and he’s quite all thrilled, thinking there’s a chance either for G.P. or me to fly the Atlantic. God, I wish I were! How utterly spectacular for “nobody me” to get all that sudden reputation if I made it and just quietly disappear into oblivion if I didn’t. And I’m ready for it, really. And don’t mind in the least.
MAY 24, 1928 Boston—Thurs. Amelia Earhart of Kansas, College Graduate—engineer, mechanic, writer, settlement house director and social worker and air pilot. Tall, blond and very slim is to fly the Atlantic in Byrds’ Amphibian Plane “Friendship” with 3 pontoons and 71 ft. wing spread. Mrs. Guest is financing it. Bill Stultz is to be navigator, with assistant, Lou, Gower, and mechanic Slim Gordon. Visited Denison House in a.m. Mildred Towle [official at Denson House], Amelia, etc. Dinner in our room.
MAY 25, 1928 Boston—Fri. Out to Wellesley with George and Amelia in a.m. Saw Bobby Kitchel [Dorothy’s niece] and took her big box of candy. Back for lunch. Dick Byrd’s for lunch at p Brimmer Street. A strange old fashioned house with many rooms and sombre furniture. Dickie, Jr. is 8, blonde and healthy and there are three younger sisters. I like the nice intelligent wife; and Dick, of course, is a charmer for all time! Tall, strong, flatteringly attentive and utterly beguiling. Amelia Earhart here at hotel with us: registered as Dorothy Binney—how odd.
MAY 26, 1928 Boston—Sat. George and Amelia talked nearly all night long last p.m. I did get some naps between times. But they didn’t know till almost midnight that the plane wouldn’t hop oil this dawn. Rain, cloudy, bad. Keith’s in afternoon with Growers, Stultz’s, Slim and his girl, then tea dance. These flyer people are an odd fatalistic lot. Stultzs married 9 years, and has only 3 trunks or belongings! The Growers 4 years and have one magazine rack, 2, trunks and a suit case! And Mrs. Gower is also a flyer and a mechanic pilot.
MAY 27, 1928 Boston—Sun. Slept late—breakfast in room. First line day or actual sun shine. Amelia drove us to Cohasset for a lobster dinner at the famous “Kimball’s”—then a heavenly drive way down to the shore all afternoon. All back in time for supper. Planned on going tomorrow at dawn. Weather forecast pretty good outside and beyond and Stultz, Slim and Gower all “set” and packed. Golly, how do they keep so cool and collected.
Even George did not anticipate how well the two women would get along. During the six days that Dorothy remained in Boston, she and Amelia were constant companions. My grandmother admired Amelia’s courage and self-composure, but at the same time envied her luck in having been chosen for the flight. Amelia for her part appreciated her older friend’s genuine gestures of friendship.
On May 28, the two women left the hotel at three-thirty in the morning and drove through the silent streets to T Wharf, a setting that already had established itself in American history. “Boston—Mom To the restaurant with the crowd. All ‘set’ all tense with excitement, at 4 a.m, then to the old ‘Boston Tea Party Dock’ in the harbor.”
The plane was moored off the Jeffrey Yacht Club in East Boston, but bad weather kept them in the car, talking and wishing the cool spring rain would stop. By this time the repeated delays had begun to wear on everyone’s nerves. “How does this astonishing girl stand the strain??” Instead of winging their way into history, the crew remained grounded by the fog and drizzle that appeared as if out of spite every morning before dawn. For days, Amelia and the two-man crew could only gaze out at the Atlantic Ocean in hopes of liberation.
Amelia and Dorothy parked their car near the dock and sat huddled in the front seat. Condensation collected inside the car windows and Dorothy watched Amelia wipe the glass with the palm of her graceful hand, revealing a view of the waiting harbor. The Friendship rocked gently as the swelling and rolling water pushed against the enormous pontoons that held the floatplane high above the waves. “She went down with me and sat all that time in the car, cuddled up in my coat, talking and grinning.”
Amelia and Dorothy exchanged stories about their childhoods, families, and dreams. Though both women had developed a love for literature and theater, they also shared a passion for outdoor activities, such as gardening, horseback riding, and fishing.
Dorothy was thirty-nine years old, but their difference in age was of no consequence. The young flyer discovered in her friend a kindred soul as daring and as open to the world as she was. During those hours in the car, Amelia also learned that Dorothy had visited the Denison House with her Glee Club in 1908 while attending Wellesley College, and she had never forgotten the faces of the little children her group had entertained.
Their conversation ended early in the morning with the news that the flight would be postponed once again. But the hours had not been wasted; the bond between the two women would change their lives forever. “Waiting for dawn in a thick soft fog and drizzle, had to give up at 8 a.m.—no ‘hop off’ today.”
This was Dorothy’s last morning in Boston. She and George had made previous plans to give a dinner party at Rye; and since he couldn’t leave Boston, she would host the party alone. “Many errands and chores to attend for tomorrow’s party.” On the morning of May 28, Dorothy left her husband and hurried to the train station and into the waiting Pullman car. “Nine a.m. train hack to Rye, exhausted.”