Thelma's Diary 1935

By Thelma F. Dyke and Joyce M. Wiedie

Thelmas journal begins shortly after she asked her sisters to join her on an adventure around the world. While Marge agreed to accompany her, Ula declined for reasons unknown. Thelma and Marge left Akron, Ohio, in May 1935. The places theyd only read about were soon to become real-life adventures. The breathtaking views of the Grand Canyon and Mount Wilson were some of the riches they encountered on their way to the Dollar Steamship Lines in Los Angeles, where their cruise originated.
Their first port of call was Honolulu. So taken by its beauty and tranquility, Thelma and Marge vowed to return. In Italy, they had a private audience with Pope Pius XI in Castel Gandolfo, his summer home outside Rome. Although Joyce wrote parts of this book, Thelmas diary is in her own words. Youll read about the events she witnessed and then wrote about each day, an uncensored depiction of two sisters out to explore and experience life. Joyces wish to preserve family history compelled her to share this memoir. It shows Joyces affection for the Dyke sisters and is a fitting tribute to their extraordinary lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481752596

Book preview

Thelma’s Diary 1935

Thelma and Marge turned the planning

of their trip over to the Divinity that shapes

our lives, the results surpassed their

greatest expectations.

by

Thelma F. Dyke

and

Joyce M. Wiedie

US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

AuthorHouse™

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© 2013 by Thelma F. Dyke and Joyce M. Wiedie. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/29/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5260-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5258-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5259-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013908834

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Note

Prologue

Chapter I

Living the Dream… Akron, Ohio to Los Angeles, California

Saturday—May 11, 1935

Sunday—May 12, 1935

Monday—May 13, 1935

Tuesday—May 14, 1935

Wednesday—May 15, 1935

Thursday—May 16, 1935

Friday—May 17, 1935

Saturday—May 18, 1935

Sunday—May 19, 1935

Monday—May 20, 1935

Tuesday—May 21, 1935

Wednesday—May 22, 1935

Thursday—May 23, 1935

Friday—May 24, 1935

Saturday—May 25, 1935

Sunday—May 26, 1935

Monday—May 27, 1935

Tuesday—May 28, 1935

Wednesday—May 29, 1935

Thursday—May 30, 1935—Decoration Day

Friday—May 31, 1935

Saturday—June 1, 1935

Sunday—June 2, 1935

Monday—June 3, 1935

Tuesday—June 4, 1935

Wednesday—June 5, 1935

Thursday—June 6, 1935

Chapter II

Anchors Aweigh on the S.S. President Hoover

Friday—June 7, 1935

Saturday—June 8, 1935

Sunday—June 9, 1935

Monday—June 10, 1935

Tuesday—June 11, 1935

Wednesday—June 12, 1935

Thursday—June 13, 1935

Chapter III

Hawaii

Friday—June 14, 1935

Saturday—June 15, 1935

Sunday—June 16, 1935

Monday—June 17, 1935

Tuesday—June 18 1935

Wednesday—June 19, 1935

Thursday—June 20, 1935

Friday—June 21, 1935

Saturday—June 22, 1935

Sunday—June 23, 1935

Monday—June 24, 1935

Tuesday—June 25, 1935

Wednesday—June 26, 1935

Chapter IV

Japan

Thursday—June 27, 1935

Friday—June 28, 1935

Saturday—June 29, 1935

Sunday—June 30, 1935

Chapter V

China/Hong Kong

Monday—July 1, 1935

Tuesday—July 2, 1935

Wednesday—July 3, 1935

Thursday—July 4, 1935

Friday—July 5, 1935

Saturday—July 6, 1935

Sunday July 7, 1935

Monday—July 8, 1935

Tuesday—July 9, 1935

Wednesday—July 10, 1935

Thursday—July 11, 1935

Friday—July 12, 1935

Saturday—July 13, 1935

Sunday—July 14, 1935—Bastille Day

Monday—July 15, 1935

Tuesday—July 16, 1935

Wednesday—July 17, 1935

Thursday—July 18, 1935

Friday—July 19, 1935

Saturday—July 20, 1935

Sunday—July 21, 1935

Monday—July 22, 1935

Tuesday—July 23, 1935

Wednesday—July 24, 1935

Thursday—July 25, 1935

Friday—July 26, 1935

Saturday—July 27, 1935

Chapter VI

Philippines, Manila, Iloilo, Zamboanga, Cebu

Sunday—July 28, 1935

Monday—July 29, 1935

Tuesday—July 30, 1935

Wednesday—July 31, 1935

Thursday—August 1, 1935

Friday—August 2, 1935

Saturday—August 3, 1935

Sunday—August 4, 1935

Monday—August 5, 1935

Tuesday—August 6, 1935

Wednesday—August 7, 1935

Thursday—August 8, 1935

Friday—August 9, 1935

Saturday—August 10, 1935

Sunday—August 11, 1935

Monday—August 12, 1935

Tuesday—August 13, 1935

Wednesday—August 14, 1935

Thursday—August 15, 1935

Friday—August 16, 1935

Saturday—August 17, 1935

Sunday—August 18, 1935

Monday—August 19, 1935

Tuesday—August 20, 1935

Wednesday—August 21, 1935

Thursday—August 22, 1935

Friday—August 23, 1935

Chapter VII

Singapore (China), Penang (Malaysia), Colombo (Sri Lanka)

Saturday—August 24, 1935

Sunday—August 25, 1935

Monday—August 26, 1935

Tuesday—August 27, 1935

Wednesday—August 28, 1935

Thursday—August 29, 1935

Friday—August 30, 1935

Saturday—August 31, 1935

Sunday—September 1, 1935

Monday—September 2, 1935

Tuesday—September 3, 1935

Wednesday—September 4, 1935

Chapter VIII

India

Thursday—September 5, 1935

Friday—September 6, 1935

Saturday—September 7, 1935

Sunday—September 8, 1935

Monday—September 9, 1935

Tuesday—September 10, 1935

Wednesday—September 11, 1935

Thursday—September 12, 1935

Friday—September 13, 1935

Saturday—September 14, 1935

Sunday—September 15, 1935

Chapter IX

Egypt

Monday—September 16, 1935

Tuesday—September 17, 1935

Wednesday—September 18, 1935

Thursday—September 19, 1935

Friday—September 20, 1935

Saturday—September 21, 1935

Chapter X

Italy (Naples), Pompeii, Sorrento, Rome, Isle of Capri

Sunday—September 22, 1935

Monday—September 23, 1935

Tuesday—September 24, 1935

Wednesday—September 25, 1935

Thursday—September 26, 1935

Friday—September 27, 1935

Saturday—September 28, 1935

Sunday—September 29, 1935

Chapter XI

Siena, Florence, Venice

Monday—September 30, 1935

Tuesday—October 1, 1935

Wednesday—October 2, 1935

Thursday—October 3, 1935

Friday—October 4, 1935

Saturday—October 5, 1935

Chapter XII

Monte Carlo, Nice

Sunday—October 6, 1935

Monday—October 7, 1935

Tuesday—October 8, 1935

Chapter XIII

Homeward Bound

Wednesday—October 9, 1935

Thursday—October 10, 1935

Friday—October 11, 1935

Saturday—October 12, 1935

Sunday—October 13, 1935

Monday—October 14, 1935

Tuesday—October 15, 1935

Wednesday—October 16, 1935

Thursday—October 17, 1935

Friday—October 18, 1935

Saturday—October 19, 1935

Sunday—October 20, 1935

Monday—October 21, 1935

Chapter XIV

Final Chapter

Glossary

An asterisk (*) behind a word, phrase, name, or place indicates that an explanation appears in the glossary at the back of the book. The entries are in chronological order by occurrence dates or location in the book, such as Thelma’s biography, prologue, final chapter, etc.

Acknowledgements

To my family and friends, for their encouragement and support.

To Thelma and Marge, for sharing their adventure.

And to God, for His guidance in making my dream

of sharing this slice of history a reality.

The cover photo, by Kenneth McGregor of the Art Armory, shows the original diary and the rosary blessed during their private audience with Pope Pius XI, and a peach rose that symbolizes The Peach Sisters, a nickname given to Thelma and Marge by Dr. Rudderow, a New Yorker they met on the cruise ship.

Note

An asterisk (*) behind a word, phrase, name, or place indicates that an explanation appears in the glossary at the back of this book. The entries are in chronological order by occurrence dates or location in the book, such as Thelma’s biography, prologue, final chapter, etc.

image%20for%20prologue.pdf

Prologue

My husband, Chuck, and his aunt Thelma (above) were my inspiration for this book. Thelma was fascinated and intrigued by what she believed to be life beyond the one known to her. At age twenty-nine, when this chronicle begins, she was looking for adventure and dreamed of traveling to places she’d only read about. Thelma’s Diary 1935 is an account in Thelma’s own words of the thoughts and travel adventures of two sisters that took them around the world.

They had received advice from a friend and travel advisor, Paul Forte, who had agreed to share the drive across America to a steamship in Los Angeles, where their trip would continue to faraway lands. An avid and seasoned traveler, Forte tried to help them with their plans, but they wanted something different than the standard specialty cruises offered by American Express. A planned itinerary just wasn’t for them, and this frustrated and worried Paul. He warned them of the dangers they might face, but that only incited their adventurous spirits. If they could be birds of passage free to follow their whims, it would be perfect.

They set out from Akron, Ohio, on Saturday, May 11, and for the next several months lived their dreams. In the United States they saw the Grand Canyon for the first time and experienced a mudslide, a dust storm, and a magnificent desert sunset. They never forgot their first glimpse of Mount Wilson in the Sierra Madres in California, the home of the world’s largest telescope.

On the day they had been waiting a lifetime for, they raced from the Mayflower Hotel in Los Angeles to the Dollar Steamship Pier in Wilmington, a twenty-five-mile death-defying ride; they thought they were running late, but they ended up getting to the ship in time.

Their next stop was San Francisco, where the adventurous Thelma and Marge boarded the SS President Hoover * on June 7, 1935 at 5:00 p.m. As they headed out under the Golden Gate Bridge, they wondered, What lies beyond that glowing horizon?

Just before they left California, an incident occurred. They had been asked to leave an establishment because they had been dancing with a couple of sailors. It made them think about making a mistake onboard, as it was their first time on a cruise ship; they just weren’t sure of proper shipboard etiquette, and they surely didn’t want to be escorted off the ship! Was it respectable to go to the captain’s quarters? Should they accept invitations for drinks and dancing? Late one night, as they walked the decks, they wondered if they’d get in trouble for jumping into the ship’s swimming pool—fully clothed. Probably, but after all, it was a dare. Not much stopped Thelma and Marge from having a good time.

Honolulu was their first port of call. The view of the majestic Diamond Head; the jagged cliffs of Oahu; the sacred falls of Hauula, where one must pay tribute to the grotto god; the Upside Down Falls, where water tumbles impetuously upward; and the grotesque cliff citadel of Nuuanu Pali were some of the wonders that compelled them to vow to return to this South Seas paradise. Young and old Polynesian women had crowded the pier and showered them with sweet scented leis when they arrived. At sundown, as their ship drifted out to sea, Thelma and Marge threw their leis into the water to signify their return someday.

The streets of Tokyo were a colorful palette of parasols and kimonos. Many of the cyclists in Japan are trick riders worthy of being circus performers. The Imperial Palace and the Kiyomizu Temple were just a couple of the amazing places they visited. Their curiosity led them to a brothel filled with a dozen friendly geisha girls and numerous compartments that opened like filing cabinets. A liberal education was theirs for strolling down this crimson path.

They traveled the Whangpoo River to Shanghai, one of China’s vital and thrilling cities, home to people of more than fifty nationalities. The city displayed the boulevards and statues of Paris, the top hat and tails of London, Sikh policemen from India, taxi-dancers from Russia, and the busy and nerve-racking activity of America.

They were eagerly anticipating the great adventure that awaited them in the Philippines. As they approached Manila, the Pearl of the Orient, they saw the massive dome of the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, the most imposing and famous church in this country of churches. They stayed at the Bay View, Manila’s newest and most up-to-date hotel at that time. From their window they could see the enchanting Manila Bay, and they enjoyed glorious sunsets, widely known as the pride of the island. Then off to Iloilo, Zamboanga, Kabasalan, and a leprosarium in Cebu. They took a unique drive through the streets of Manila, where water buffalo and carromantas shared the streets with automobiles, and women walked with bundles on their heads and cigars in their mouths.

After visiting Singapore and Penang, their next stop was India. After passing several small islands they entered Bombay’s harbor with its impressive buildings along the Apollo Bunder, the city’s pier. After lunch at the Taj Mahal, they persuaded a friend to take them to Queens Road to a burning ghat, one of those wide, commanding staircases that lead to a river, and in this case a ghat where cremations are performed. There they witnessed the most gruesome sight they’d ever seen, the funeral of an Indian mother. Her body was on a pile of wood that was set on fire. India’s poor would save and save in hopes of having the luxury of a funeral like the one Thelma and Marge witnessed, but the smell of burning flesh was something the two never forgot. They were glad to move on to a more pleasant scene, the beautiful hanging gardens on Malabar Hill.

Going through customs in the Suez Canal slowed them down a bit, but eventually they were free to drive the eighty-four miles to Cairo, on the Nile. They met a young boy who asked Thelma to take a coin from her purse and hold it tightly in her hand; with a few magic words he made it disappear, even though he had never gotten closer to her than ten feet. He made them dizzy trying to figure out how he had done that.

Abdul, their dragoman, directed them to a rooftop restaurant where they had Egyptian coffee thick enough to cut with a knife.

They visited the citadel built in 1166 on the spur of the Mokattam Hills, the Mosque of Muhammed Ali, Joseph’s Well, Sultan Hassan’s mosque, the pyramids, and the sphinx. They spent a few hours in the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, where they saw a most valuable collection of ancient art.

On the River Nile, Abdul showed them the spot where, according to Arab tradition, pharaoh’s daughter found Moses in the bulrushes. They caravanned by camel across the colored sands of the Sahara and camped for a night.

Their first task when they reached Naples was to find a guido. They were lucky to find Raphael Basille, who came from a long line of travel guides.

Mount Vesuvius, the Appian Way, Pompeii, Amalfi, Sorrento, and Rome, the Eternal City, are just a few of the amazing places they visited in Italy. Their journey through Tuscan hill towns, including Viterbo, Orvieto, and Perugia, seemed to set a higher eminence and to command a greater view with each passing town. The beautiful towns were like a garter across the leg of Italy.

They were fortunate to have a private audience with Pope Pius XI at his summer home in Castel Gandolfo, outside of Rome.

In Naples they rode a lift down the rocky shore to a rowboat waiting to take them to a steamer that in turn took them in forty-five minutes to the romantic Isle of Capri.

Venice was a unique encounter; its towers, domes, steeples seemed to float on its silver trails of water. The gondolas, the music—there’s nothing like it in the world.

In Monte Carlo, the land of the rich and famous, they stayed at the Hotel De Paris, known the world over as the finest hotel on the Rivera. Then on to Nice, snuggled between the French and Italian Alps.

In Marseilles they boarded the SS President Hayes,* on October 9 at 6:30 p.m., homeward bound. In late October they arrived back in Ohio—and were never the same.

Experience the journey, the excitement, the adventure, and the romance in Thelma’s own words. Her descriptive style paints an entertaining picture. And so begins Marge and Thelma’s voyage, around the world in 192 days.

Chapter I

Living the Dream… Akron, Ohio

to Los Angeles, California

Saturday—May 11, 1935

Dreams? What are they made of? Soon we shall know for today we set out on an unchartered course around the world. No luggage to speak of, no steamship tickets, no passports. Nothing except a burning desire to shake the chains of reality and explore, first hand, the faraway lands which until now, have been make-believe places in our world of dreams.

The business of officially getting us on our way was left to our most gracious friend and travel advisor, Mr. Paul Forte. Our seeming lack of cooperation caused many an upheaval in his volcanic nature, but how was he to know the thousand shocks our flesh was heir to ere that eleventh hour decision was handed down. Further uprising were caused by our refusal to accept one of Thos. Cook’s or the American Express Company’s carefully prepared specialties. Being confined to a stereotyped itinerary was not our idea of traveling. All we ask was to be birds of passage, free to follow the whims of a vagrant breeze.

Paul would help with the driving and only be going as far as Los Angeles, California. Being an inveterate traveler and knowing the dangers of an insatiable curiosity, Paul feared the worst for his two young friends with gypsy blood surging through their veins. He tried to point out the wiles of the Far East by telling us some of the diabolical schemes used by fiendish Orientals to lure their occidental sisters into shadow-lined dens. He told of deep, black pits where innocent girls fall prey to evil spirits and are forced to follow the trail of the Serpent to a blazing caldron of forgotten souls. Curious beings, we nomads found such stories only incite our spirit of adventure.

The morning sun turned out in full regalia to wish us God Speed. A vibrant, buoyant feeling filled our hearts as we rode away from the old familiar sights, to the unknown. We drove along in silence as our minds buzzed with myriads of plans for the future. The grand finale of our orchestral silence came as we rode up the busy streets of Columbus.

We have work to do on our trip. We need to help Marge, now as slender as a reed, to blossom into the season’s fairest flower. The sizable lunch she ate at Mt. Sterling was the first step in that direction.

Spent our first night in the hillbilly town of Corbin, Kentucky.

Sunday—May 12, 1935

Headed south for Knoxville, Tennessee, turned east through Tennessee’s picturesque Smoky Mountains, now clad in their pretty new Easter finery. We had agreed to take turns driving, with Marge at the wheel, we were merrily spinning along trying to reach the other side of the mountains before sundown.

The sign Road Under Construction, Travel at Your Own Risk, meant trouble ahead. Stretched out before us was a road covered with mud. It was wet, slippery, slimy mud as far as the eye could see up the steep incline. We couldn’t turn back, so with a death like grip on the wheel Marge carefully put the car in low and bravely stepped on the gas. The car skidded in every direction, especially backwards. We were at the mercy of the Gods, wondering why St. Peter had called our numbers so soon. Poor Marge had died a thousand deaths. Paul realizing the seriousness of the situation, offered to take the wheel. Even though his calm confident manner was reassuring, we heaved a sigh of relief when we reached the summit and saw the smoothly paved highway ahead.

Our mouths had been watering for a Southern Fried Chicken Dinner all day but unfortunately when it came time to eat we had no choice of eating places. It was Blairsville, Georgia or nowhere. This under grown hamlet had but one restaurant, located in a rundown hotel on the town circle, which could hardly be called a gourmets paradise.

Did we get southern fried chicken? Emphatically, NO! We got ham and eggs of an inferior quality and old stale bread, the only items on the menu. The shriveled ham, shrunken eggs, pitifully served in a pool of half hardened grease, were as palatable as an old piece of shoe leather.

Reached the Ansley Hotel* in Atlanta by Midnight.

Monday—May 13, 1935

Paul had business to attend to this morning and so Marge and I took one look at our long list of Necessities for a World Cruise and trotted off to see what the Atlanta shops could offer. Hours later, with arms heavily laden, we slowly and wearily made our way back to the hotel. Paul had already returned with Mr. Roby, Marge’s dinner partner and our guide for the evening. Pick me ups were in order! Even though Georgia is still Dry the bell hop was more than delighted to highjack us for a bottle of his own corn remover. A side order of ice was delivered in a ten gallon bucket. And what, praise be, were we to do with so much ice? A few icebreakers and we set out for a seafood dinner at the Ship Ahoy. Pompano with tasty trimmings more than made up for the awful ham and eggs we had last night.

A party of Goodrichites* from Akron, Ohio came in while we were eating. Everyone joined forces to make our one evening in Atlanta an enjoyable one. We went over to see Bobby Jones’ Athletic Club* and then decided to call it a night.

Tuesday—May 14, 1935

After leaving Atlanta we passed through miles and miles of cotton fields in full bloom. We are now in the land where every blade is flaming and only man is black. The breeze was like a whirlwind of tempestuous fire causing rivers of perspiration to flow from our wilted bodies.

Lunch was in La Grange, Georgia, dinner and lodging in Merridan, Mississippi, where the night winds withered in stagnant air.

Casualty number one, Marge broke the glass top on her dresser at the Lamar Hotel.

Wednesday—May 15, 1935

No excitement today. We went through Jackson, Mississippi, had lunch in Vicksburg, Mississippi. We continued on through Arcadia, Louisiana and went as far as the Washington-Youree Hotel in Shreveport. Ran into a heavy cloudburst in the late afternoon. After dinner we saw a movie, Marlene Dietrich in The Devil is a Woman *.

Thursday—May 16, 1935

We had winter weather to start our long drive across the Lone Star state. Lunched in Mineola, Texas, then on through Dallas, Fort Worth, and Mineral Wells*, home of the Cure All crazy water crystals. We dined in Breckenridge and moved on to the Hotel Hilton in Abilene for the night.

Friday—May 17, 1935

To reach the Hussmann Hotel in El Paso, Texas in time for dinner, it meant driving full speed ahead all day. Consequently we zoomed through Sweetwater, Big Springs, Odessa, Pecos, and Sierra Blanca as though pursued by demons. We cooled our motor at noon in Midland, just long enough to grab a sandwich. This evening we enjoyed a nice Chinese dinner and a movie, Star of Midnight featuring William Powell and Ginger Rogers.

Saturday—May 18, 1935

We invited nothing short of a tempest by having the car washed last night. No sooner had we left El Paso, than Satan was upon us. From across the desert, a dark ominous looking streak approached us with lighting speed. Closer and closer it came, the insidious twister, gaining momentum with each turn and reaching out its treacherous arms to sweep up everything in its path. The invincible monster polluted the air with turbulent sands and left us hopelessly trapped in a blinding dust storm. The evil trespassers penetrated our tightly closed windows. It sheathed us with his infernal grit and filled our mouths so full of dirt we could have easily expectorated ready-to-bake mud pies. That was our first, and we hope our last experience with shifting sands.

Our rejoicing at being out of the Devil’s sandblast, was short lived, for after we left the lunch station in Deming, New Mexico we ran into a flood of raindrops, such as only angels could weep. Perhaps the Coolidge Dam was placed in this particular spot as a storehouse for these celestial tears.

The magic splendor of the mountain sunset was a fitting climax for this day of many moods. The sun robbed the world of its gold and with the lavish gestures of a spendthrift pirate, drew bold designs across the evening sky—nor was his heated imagination appeased until he had scurried through his loot for a galaxy of tropical reds, so brilliant that when fused with the mountains glided halo they would have set