8
MAY 30, 1928 Fine clear morning. Beefsteak Grill. Sen. Walcott and Bryn… George Chamberlain, Anna Case… Muriel Pollock (piano shark), Dorothy Speare (novelist and opera star), Scotty Allen… Dennisons, three Godleys, Greens.… A gurrand party, and gorgeous music, fine crowd, too.… So sorry G.W. was not here. He loved it last year.
THE FRIENDSHIP FLIGHT HAD NOW BECOME a major media event, and Dorothy secretly longed for her own adventure. “Oh Yd give much to be far away, on an island with a cabin and the tides and sun and fishing and an occasional climb, etc. I don’t want suburbs and cities. Rather loneliness and the seal”
Bogged down by poor weather, George and the frustrated crew continued to wait another three days. When the giant seaplane finally lifted from Boston Harbor, Dorothy recorded the eventful day:
JUNE 3, 1928 Hooray! Sun. The “Friendship” hopped off from Boston at dawn. All kinds or excitement all day.… All p.m. newspaper men calling for George, and it’s rather fun to sense their excitement trying to get dope on this trans-Atlantic flight. God, I hope that girl makes it!
Instead of flying on to Trepassey Bay in Newfoundland, the plane was forced to land in Halifax, Nova Scotia, because of poor weather. At last, on June 4, Bill Stultz, Lou Gordon, and Amelia Earhart were given the clear skies they needed and flew on to Trepassey Bay, the starting point for the trans-Atlantic flight: “Mon. The plane had to land in Halifax because of fog —then on, again, to Trepassey by 3 p.m. today. Every newspaper in the country full of it and many comments about George’s connection with it. All day the phone rings constantly. Vm too emotionalized and upset to do anything all day.…”
During the waiting period in Boston, Amelia had pieced together a loosely constructed will. George Putnam saved these “popping off” letters, one written to each parent, to be delivered in the event that she did not return. They are among his treasured papers.
May 20, 1928
Dear Mammy,
I am sorry I had to pass out of the picture in such a way. I am considerable and dislike leaving you with a burden, of rather without an income.
I have put down carefully all my affairs. Please destroy all my writings without examination and do what you will with personal effects. Even tho’ I have lost, the adventure was worthwhile. Our family tends to be too secure. My life has really been very happy and I didn’t mind contemplating its end in the midst of that.
Mildred Towle can perhaps tell you the circumstances surrounding my departure, etc. If you wish.
Affectionately, your doter,
A.E.
May 20, 1928
Dearest Dad,
Hooray for the last grand adventure! I wish I had won, but it was worthwhile anyway. You know that
I have no faith we’ll meet anywhere again, but I wish we might. Anyway, goodbye, and good luck to you.
Affectionately, your doter,
Mill
Amid the frenzy awaiting Amelia’s departure, Dorothy felt a keen loss of privacy. However, on the last day of May, while George remained in Boston, she and G.W. spent a delightful day outdoors.
MAY 31, 1928 The garden, some notes and two full hours at the piano. G.W. had cuts from class unexpectedly and came down here for lunch. We shot over to the beach, put on bathing suits and paddled canoe for four hours. And such run. We each acquired a pink coating of sunburn. A lovely ride way back in the hills and down in the garden later to see the full moon. Some music, a cool drink, and oh, so sleepy, to bed!
The following day, her words resound with the joy only G.W. could inspire. “The flute and singing almost from dawn on another heavenly day. Roses, roses, yellow roses! And perfume and a conversation such as one has twice in a life-time perhaps.” A year ago, G.W. had brought daisies, a symbol of their innocent love. Now he brought yellow roses, which marked a new sophistication on his part. Dorothy placed the long-stemmed blooms on the bookcase beneath the window facing the front and more formal side of the house. They seemed to belong there, rather than on the bedroom tea table where the daisies once rested.
In early June, George returned home to await news of the Friendship flight. As always the house was filled with flowers from the garden to welcome him back and Dorothy still found it comforting at times to slip into the routine and security of her marriage. “Worked in garden while George and the children burned off the orchard field. And it seemed quite like old times to be out exercising and pulling briars, transplanting, etc. I do love it and it keeps me sane when I might so easily go off the handle.”
The children were staying with their grandparents, where George’s father was giving his two grandsons a picnic supper and another lesson in fly-casting. At home, Rocknoll was silent except for George’s voice on the other end of the telephone, reporting updated weather reports. He decided it was easier to spend his nights in the city so that he could remain in constant touch with Amelia. The New York Times provided their wire service for communicating weather reports between Trepassey and the flight’s backers.
Dorothy took the train to Manhattan every evening to meet George for dinner. On June 6 she noted: “Still thrilled about the Atlantic. In town overnight to hear more intimate news. Dinner, Ritz with G.P. and Fitz. Hippodrome alone for an hour, while men at ‘Times’ office. Mabel Bolls [another flyer], the nightclub, fast, mistress of Lerne, girl now plans to hop, too.…Excitement of the flyers has somewhat subsided as bad weather holds ’em back. The Bolls woman had to return to Curtis Field—fog! Whoopie!”
By now, the newspapers were breathlessly playing up a new angle: a potential race across the Atlantic between two rival pilots—one a demure Boston social worker, and the other a beauty queen. By the time Mabel Boll’s plane made it to Harbor Grace, Newfoundland, both camps were waiting for the weather to clear. Amelia later denied any competition between them.
Trying to juggle the demands of family and Amelia’s flight left Dorothy wishing for an escape from it all. In her June 11 entry, she describes her confusion:
The new wall in the garden has started. Iris are lovely and the fields embroidered with daisies! All the world seems happy and fruitful! Why should I be sad and inwardly so hurt? I want to go far away, alone and work to get myself straightened out. For here we have luxury, beauty, comforts and discord., a friction no amount of ignoring on my part is able to conceal from me. All my fault perhaps, but nonetheless, here!
Dorothy was never far from her beloved birds. Thinking of G.W., she savored the melodic notes of the thrush’s song. “Thank God for thrushes and ferns! They help one thro’ a mental hiatus as nothing else can do. Yes, seriously, thank God.” On the 13th, her thoughts returned to Amelia. “Still the Earhart girl doesn’t fly: can’t get her plane up from the water with its necessary load. And Mabel Boll on her second attempt has reached NT. [Newfoundland].”
Much to her delight, Dorothy was interviewed by a reporter for The New York Times. The story appeared on June 17, alongside news accounts and photos of Amelia.
MRS. PUTNAM, WIFE OF BACKER OF FLIGHT, GIVES WORD PICTURE OF GIRL AVIATOR…
“I have seldom encountered a more thoroughly delightful person,” said Mrs. Putnam in speaking of Miss Earhart. “She is most extraordinarily cool and self-possessed. Although I saw her during the trying time when the hop was being delayed from day to day, her poise was remarkable.”
… A possession of Miss Earhart’s which particularly appeals to the residents of Tyler Street, headquarters of her social work, is her battered Kissel roadster. Countless children of slums crawling over it while parked in the street, have nearly demolished the windshield. Its color is bright yellow.
“Mr. Putnam dubbed it the ‘Yellow Peril,’” the publisher’s wife explained, “and Miss Earhart certainly drives the ‘Peril’ remarkably well. Fast, too. But that’s to be expected with a one hundred mile an hour air woman who herself has a woman’s altitude record of 14,000 feet.
“…It will be a joy to have America and our own sex represented in England by such an altogether fine person as Amelia,” Mrs. Putnam continued. “She is a lady in the very best sense of the word, an educated and cultivated person with a fine, healthy sense of humor. And a girl easy to look at, too. Her resemblance to Lindbergh is almost uncanny. She is a feminine counterpart of the ‘Flying Colonel.’ We certainly will be delighted to welcome her home to America, and eagerly look forward to having her as our guest at Rye.”
Finally, on June 17, despite warnings from the U.S. Weather Bureau, the Friendship took off as a crowd of onlookers cheered from the shore. “I am going today in spite of everything,” a determined Amelia told newsmen.
JUNE 17, 1928 Earhart off for Atlantic flight at 11:2,1 a.m. from Trepassey N.F. and great excitement in the household. A phone from Mrs. Stultz, and a radio from Amelia herself and newspapers, etc. all day! I feel as tho’ I were suddenly splitting the sides of my personality!… Hectic upset afternoon, phones and wires, etc.
Mabel Boll and her crew were still grounded with mechanical problems on the morning of June 18, when Amelia Mary Earhart became the first woman to cross the Atlantic by air. The following day, newspaper headlines boldly proclaimed Amelia as “‘LADY LINDY’ AIR QUEEN.” Photographs of Earhart with her gap-toothed smile and her leather flying helmet appeared on every front page in America. Her feat was considered a daring accomplishment and she earned worldwide fame and respect.
Strangely, my grandmother made no mention of the aviatrix in her diaries until Amelia finally returned on July 5. Dorothy writes of George’s involvement in the flight, but her life appears normal again, though her celebrated friend was the topic of conversations around the world.
JUNE 18, 1928 Dinner at a little place on B’way, then while George went to Times office to hear any news of the flight, I went to see Billie Burke in “Happy Husband,” an amusing and very modern frivolity about husbands and wives and their infidelities.…
The following diary entries lead me to believe that in fact my grandmother was thinking much more about her friend’s new fame than she wanted to admit, even to herself.
JUNE 2 0, 1928 I wish I were way off, alone somewhere with the salty smell of the sea, the sort sound of the tide and a chance to swim naked when I really wanted to be luxurious and self indulgent. Perhaps it’s just utter boredom or a daily routine which only satisfies in episodes and short periods. I’m neither young nor old. I’m tremendously vital still, and full of a spirit of comedy and “play” which gets small opportunity and outlet.
JUNE 26, 1928 Oh, why, why do I get such depressed and utterly disgusted days.! When really I adore out of doors, and woods, and the sea and music and my two grand sons! Yet, there are whole days on end when I wish it were all over and done for. When I’d like to “finish my job” and crack off. Oh, I must go away this winter and by myself!
Though technically only a passenger, Amelia was a very active one. Seated between the fuel tanks, she recorded her observations in the logbook as best she could with little light. From the moment the pontoons of the Friendship touched down onto the chilly water near the fishing village of Burry Port, in southern Wales, Amelia Earhart became an instant heroine, an almost mythical figure for women of her generation who only fantasized about escaping their domestic routines.
Back home, my grandfather was orchestrating her every move. He had already sent his associate Hilton Railey to England to help Mrs. Guest prepare for the plane’s arrival, and together they engineered a public relations dream.
Before Amelia returned to the United States, she and George had communicated daily over the wire service. In several of their messages, they had both used the nickname “Simpkin,” a name she had given him shortly after they first met. In observing George during the early days of their relationship, Amelia had remembered a favorite Beatrix Potter story from her childhood, The Tailor of Gloucester, about a tailor who lived alone with his cat, Simpkin. George later described the nickname’s origin in his autobiography, Wide Margins:
Simpkin was a cat who believed that if holding one mouse in reserve against the danger of having time idle on one’s hand—or paws—was wisdom, then holding a good number of mice in reserve against such a likelihood was even better. So Simpkin kept a flock—or whatever the grouping of mice is—always available by the neat expedient of housing them, one by one, under inverted teacups. Somehow or other AE had hit on the resemblance in me to Simpkin’s way of doing things, for she early perceived that, important as the project of which she was the center became, it was really just then one of the group of enterprises in which I was engaged.
Seemingly, one mouse at a time was not enough. And so privately called me Simpkin.
Amelia arrived in London with very little money but almost immediately acquired an Avro Avian Moth sport plane from Lady Mary Heath, in which the latter had made a record flight from Cape Town, South Africa, to Croydon. Mary had inscribed into the fuselage a message for Amelia: “To Amelia Earhart from Mary Heath. Always think with your stick forward.”
She was also furnished with Parisian gowns and shoes, courtesy of Mrs. Guest, and was honored with dinners and luncheons. At a private affair at the exclusive Embassy Club, Amelia and the Prince of Wales were the center of attention. (He was an avid flyer.)
Amelia’s victorious face appeared on the front page of every newspaper, and moviegoers thrilled to the newsreels of her stepping onto British soil. She was greeted by crowds everywhere she went, sipped tea with the Prime Minister and Lady Astor, and chatted with Winston Churchill. Ever the enterprising publisher, my grandfather had arranged for Amelia to write dispatches from London that were eagerly devoured by newspaper readers back home.
The English reception was only the start of what would be an extended celebration. On June 28, ten days after reaching the coast of Wales, Amelia Earhart and the crew of the Friendship, along with Hilton Railey, boarded the SS Roosevelt for the eight-day voyage back to waiting throngs of Americans. Dorothy could not have predicted how dramatically her life would change with the return of her famous friend, who was planning to take up residence at Rocknoll for the summer while she wrote her book. George was now officially Amelia’s business manager, and with that came an enormous loss of privacy. “Phone rang all night!” Newsmen regularly perched on her front lawn.
George was swept up in the media attention, and Dorothy felt abandoned. She was still the same woman, and her friend’s sudden fame had done nothing to improve her spirits or her marriage. On June 29, Dorothy experienced a premonition: “… Killed snake on way home and had curious feeling of something uncanny about it. Have I an unknown enemy? A back biter? And a slanderer? Sometimes I fear so. Is there a ‘snake’ I ought to be more aware of?” The next evening, her relationship with George had ruptured once more.
JUNE 30, 1928 Again a wretched long argument, all night. The same old story… my indifference and why and wherefore? And his insistence. Impersonally, I’m regretful and sorry, and yet personally I can’t seem to force myself to another point of trying to begin all over again—as tho’ one ever brought back romance—or could order it.…
Yet life went on. Two days before the crew of the Friendship arrived in New York, the annual Binney family Fourth of July celebration took place at Rocklyn. All of the Putnams and Binneys, the neighbors, and the pals of Junie and David’s donned their bibbed aprons and chef’s hats for the traditional barbecue. “A swim, late, then five Putnams to Sound Beach for a grill. But bad storm and only the lobsters were broiled. But a nice party. And fireworks later, to which the neighbors all came.” The group was buzzing with excitement over Amelia’s record flight and her anticipated arrival. They were ecstatic at the prospect of having the flyer in their midst for a time, even if it meant that the rest of the summer would become a circus of photographers and reporters.
As the fireworks burst over the blinking lighthouse, Dorothy slipped away from the crowd and found her way up to her childhood room. It was quite some time before George realized his wife was missing. Walking around to the side entrance of the house, he climbed to the third floor and discovered her sitting on the edge of a table in front of a small window. Gazing out at the display, she seemed more interested in the man-made shooting stars than in her husband watching her from the doorway.
After an edgy night, filled with constant chatter about aviation and heroism, Dorothy awoke and began packing for the several days that she and George would spend in New York for the official welcome-home ceremonies. Dorothy wondered how her relationship with Amelia would change. She had missed her friend’s vitality and the confidences they had shared in Boston only a few short weeks earlier.
Her diaries over the following days describe in detail Amelia’s triumphant return. For a period of time her life was consumed by this Cinderella story, and she was even mistaken for the flyer by bodyguards hired to protect Amelia.
JULY 5, 1928 Thurs. Many reporters, reviewers, etc. already waiting in the “Friendship Flyer’s Suite” at 1717 in the Biltmore. Four bedrooms a dining room and reception room and it gives one quite a thrill or anticipation. Read Walpole’s “Wintersmoon,” a delicately done picture or aristocratic, conventional English life. The marriage or two people not in love and finally he falls in love with her and he loves their little son! The hopeless circle of it.
JULY 6, 1928 Up at dawn and then early down the bay on the little reception tug, Macom, to meet S.S. President Roosevelt, Dick Byrd, Laymans and Phipps, etc. on board and really quite a thrill. It pleased me for I knew nearly everyone and could really help a lot. Was tickled, really, to have Amelia throw her arms around me and kiss me, her only kiss, when she stepped aboard! Dick Byrd delightful lunch at Biltmore after Mayor’s reception and parade up Fifth Avenue. Wilkins, Wilsen, Chamberlain, Fokker, etc. there, many notables. Paramount Theatre p.m. Special Earhart films, late.
JULY 7, 1928 After Paramount last night we went to special benefit performance for Olympic Teams at Palace. A great show where I was mistaken for Amelia and rushed into the theatre by guards, etc.! Very amusing, but embarrassing. Women’s City Club lunch—22, Park Avenue—Good speeches and intelligent women. Amelia made excellent talk and fine impression. George a good speech. “Showboat” later. Fliers party. Capt. Manning, Mr. Woodhouse, and David, Helen and Mother joined us. David drove back to Rye with us, quite thrilled at motor cop escort and clearance of traffic!?
JULY 8, 1928 Amelia, George and I had to drive to town for Denison House Reception after dinner. The girl very tired and I fear I offended the committee by taking her away early. Again, motor cycle cops as escorts, clearing all traffic for us, and tooting siren every minute. It seems tremendously impressive to go against traffic signals!
Dorothy, George, and Amelia were relieved to escape the pressures of New York City and retreat to their country home.
Briefly out of the limelight, Amelia was comfortably surrounded by the mossy silhouettes of Don Blanding’s undersea mural in the guest room. That evening, she presented a silver fish pendant to her hostess and friend Dorothy Binney Putnam. The fish is etched with tiny scales and a flat fin lies against its small side. There is a ring in its mouth that originally held a thin satin purple ribbon. On the reverse side the inscription reads: “A.E.—6–18–28—D.B.P.” The significance of the fish comes from a play that Amelia and the Putnams had seen in Boston just before her departure. The title was The Good Hope. Amelia would later write in her book 20 hrs. 40 min: Our Flight in the Friendship that “The story is a tragedy; all the hopeful characters drown while the most tragic one survives to carry out a cold lamb chop in the last act. A recurring line is ‘The fish are dearly paid for,’ and our crew adopted that as a heraldic motto, emblazoned under a goldfish rampant.”
The following morning, the three returned to Boston, where the official pageantry continued. Amelia was beginning to enjoy the nonstop parades and dinner parties, and charmed admirers with her “wonderful sense of humor,” as Anne Morrow Lindbergh later wrote. “In a crowd in which we were all present, she reported hearing some stranger exclaim, ‘the poor girl does look like Lindbergh!’” Dorothy’s casual sophistication and natural understanding of celebrity had become invaluable to her friend, and she was delighted to help.
JULY 9, 1928 Left hotel at 7:15 for Curtis Field. Take off for Boston in a trimotor Ford plane. George and I with Amelia. Stultz and Gordons in a Fokker. My greatest thrill and joy of all new sensations. Hot, sultry, golden day, 2 to 3,000 ft. altitude, going at 85 to 110 miles per hour. Yellow daisies in field below looked like golden dust and no hills at all! And we watch our own shadow below. The other plane seems to glide, motionless and we feel no sense of moving, just hear the sound of motors! Boston in 2, hrs. Parade—Reception—Governor’s house—Capitol—Parade—Boston Common, etc. A celebration out doing that for Lindbergh. We had Colonel Lindbergh Suite!
Dorothy later recalled that “Dennison Airport was shouting and cheering; great ships in the harbor shrilled their whistles; on every roof handkerchiefs waved; and everywhere showers of gay papers made a snowstorm of welcome.…”
Amelia’s fiancé, Sam Chapman, was waiting at the hotel in Boston when they arrived. On July 10, feeling excluded from the formal ceremonies, he gravitated toward Dorothy:
Almost before we woke, phone began ringing again and reporters and news photo men, etc. were waiting for interviews. Sam Chapman was sneaked up to her room to see her, and reporters immediately knew of it. There’s a penalty to being famous and one pays the price by having no privacy whatever! Medford noontime parade and reception. While Sam Chapman and I stayed behind and had a fine talk. Such an insight in to a human being as I’ve only seen a few times before. I like him, but Lordy what a problem he is facing. Back to Rye on Private Car. Gilt Edge special.
Soon after the parades ended, Amelia moved into Rocknoll, where she began writing what would become 20 hrs. 40 min. Though she continued to make personal appearances, she would essentially live in the Putnam home until the manuscript was completed. “George and Amelia in town for a radio talk at night. When Dick Byrd introduced Amelia in Boston he said: ‘A very gallant lady, at home in the universe and unafraid.’ A fine tribute.”
Dorothy understood that the aggressive publishing entourage that had followed them back to Rye was a necessary part of book promotion. “Secretaries and extras and neighbors, and relatives all crowding around. And an enormous mob for meals. All very hectic and upsetting, but it’s all in the game.” She was swept up by the activity, but privately wrote of her longing for and frustration over G.W.’s absence.
JULY 12, 1928 Busy all day around the house trying to get things caught up. Out to see the outboard motor boat races and the navy seagull races off Playland Beach. A flat ideal day, and returned in time to meet George, Amelia and Capt. Manning [of the SSRoosevelt] for dinner.
JULY 13, 1928 To town, Capt. Manning returned with me, many errands. Amelia worked all day. After dinner Amelia and I drove my new Chrysler “75” {actually, the very first one delivered!) to meet Sam Chapman at Stamford. Home—a cold drink and a little music and to bed in the loggia. Oh, sometimes it would be easier not to know so much about other people’s intimate affairs. One suffers for it, often. I’m curiously apathetic. I don’t understand myself—Why? What? Who?
JULY 14, 1928 Try to arrange fresh flowers, but the fields are so wet from constant rains that I’m drenched. Swim in a.m. altho’ water cold and unappetizing, but we must have exercise. Amelia and I really swam, but Chapman and George quit as soon as they were wet. Damn the constant rain! Sam and Amelia out for drive after dinner, then cool drink and very soon a quiet house.
The historic month had not altered her fundamental situation. Once again, Dorothy seemed to be moving toward a breakup of the marriage.
JULY 15, 1928 The only man I desire, I can’t have. The one who has a “right” {to hell with conjugal rights!) to me, I am utterly indifferent to, and anyway he’s far too occupied with affairs of business to give time to any emotional life. But I don’t really care any more. There’s only one man I can think of loving.