The Last Grand Tour

By Elizabeth Sherman

The extensive collection of letters compiled in The Last Grand Tour chronicles the adventures of a Michigan family’s trip to Italy in 1959–1960. Margaret and Gilbert Sherman, with their three children—Helen, Elizabeth (Whiz), and Tom—in tow, detailed their eight-month journey with engaging descriptions, wry observations, and riotous anecdotes in their correspondence with family members back in the States. This candid and witty travelogue highlights the family’s visits to a number of Italian cities, including Venice, Rome, and Pisa, along with the everyday joys and trials of life at a rural villa outside Florence.

The family sailed from New York City in late August 1959 on board the ocean liner Vulcania and, after stops at the ports of Lisbon, Palermo, Naples, and Venice, disembarked in Trieste. From there they drove to Florence, where they leased a villa, La Colombaia, for five months. While the family enjoyed their time there, country life had its drawbacks, and they found themselves more tied down with daily chores than they expected. With a desire to see more of Florence and free up their time, they moved back into the city for several weeks before going on a long road trip to visit Siena, Verona, Perugia, and other cities in Tuscany. The Shermans had planned originally on a one-year journey, traveling north through Europe and then crossing over to England. But the adventure wore thin on the kids, and their homesickness among other things led to a change in plans. By late April, the family arrived back in Trieste for a return voyage on the Vulcania.

In the letters and postcards Peg and Gib not only mention places visited and sights seen, but also describe the hassles of dealing with the Italian police and assorted bureaucrats, the etiquette of driving Italian style, the challenges of homeschooling the two older girls, and the appreciation of art masterpieces as seen through the eyes of a five-year-old boy.

The Last Grand Tour will take the reader on a rollicking trip with the Firenze Kids—and no passport is needed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645310952

Book preview

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The Last Grand Tour

Elizabeth B. Sherman

Copyright © 2019 Elizabeth B. Sherman

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2019

ISBN 978-1-64531-094-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64531-095-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

INTRODUCTION

In the depths of the Cold War, with the Bomb overhanging the American psyche, a Martian invasion seemingly imminent, and Ozzie and Harriet ruling the airwaves, a middle­class Midwest couple decided to chuck it all, grab their three kids, and head for Italy.

It was August 1959 when Margaret and Gilbert Sherman left their home in North Muskegon, Michigan, along with their three children—Helen (age nine), Elizabeth (Whiz or Whizzie, age eight), and Tom (age five)—on what was planned to be a year abroad. They expected to spend six months in Italy, then drive up through Europe and end their trip in England in late summer of 1960. Ultimately, the itinerary was changed and shortened to eight months. Still, it was quite an adventure, with the family traveling by train, ocean liner, and auto on a cultural tour of ltaly and living five of those eight months at a farm villa outside of Florence.

The preparations for and purpose of this remarkable journey are reminiscent of the grand tours of faraway places taken by travelers in the 1800s and early 1900s. Today, when Americans visit Europe, they take a flight to a major city and typically spend one or two weeks visiting popular tourist attractions. They usually don’t stray from the prescribed itinerary and rub elbows with the locals. But in years past, the logistics of packing for a lengthy journey and extended stay abroad; making arrangements for accommodations; being prepared for various adventures, mishaps, and dealings with people in a language other than English was a daunting undertaking that required great organization. This family’s trip in 1959 is reminiscent of those grand tours, and thus the title, The Last Grand Tour.

Margaret, or Peggy as she was called by friends and family, came up with the idea for this trip to Italy in the spring of 1959, and the family was eager to go. Gilbert—Gib—had just left a very stressful job, and Peg was desperate to get out from under a number of social obligations (church choir, Brownie troop leader, etc.). She had always wanted to visit Italy and this seemed the most opportune time to make such a major break. But it was Peggy who bore the greatest of the responsibilities, as she had studied Italian before the family left (and continued to study it during the trip), and all relied on her communication skills, which were often tested by situations that required more than basic words and phrases. Her interest in and knowledge of history and Italian culture guided the family as they traveled around Florence, Rome, and other Italian towns, visiting art galleries, churches, castles, and various historic sites. As expected with such an adventurous undertaking, the unexpected would happen, and Peg found herself coping with a maze of official and often petty bureaucratic obstacles. She also had to deal with the nuts and bolts of everyday life in a country where milk did not always come pasteurized and basic utilities proved problematical at best in rural Tuscany.

Peg Sherman was an excellent correspondent. Her many lengthy letters to family members back in the States are literate, engaging, and full of a genuine joie de vivre. Her keen observations of life abroad provide remarkable insights into a time and place that have grown more fascinating as the years pass. In addition, the recounting of her family’s close encounters with foreign cultures (people, places, artwork, etc.) offer moments of thoughtful insight and downright hilarity. Gib, also a fine writer, wrote frequent letters, and these are included with Peg’s. He was good with the logistics of travel and faithfully kept a daily journal of the trip.

As the years passed, Helen, Tom (now Thom), and I came to appreciate more and more the importance of literary correspondence. This is an art lost for the most part these days with the convenience of e-mail, text messaging, and other electronic means of communication that can be easily typed in, read, and instantly deleted. Few today put pen to paper (and in Peg’s case, a fountain pen to pale-blue airmail paper) to write anything more than a hastily jotted note—Having a great time! Wish you were here!—on a postcard while on a vacation trip. From the 1700s on, letters were vital forms of communication for the average person, and the recipient would often save the letters, share them with others, and, if from a loved one, tie them up with a ribbon and preserve them as keepsakes. The relatives who received Peg and Gib’s letters during this time saved them, and eventually, they were passed along to us. One of our aunts typed up some of the letters and gave each of us kids the collection shortly after our return from Italy. Other letters and postcards came our way in the 1990s. Helen compiled and typed them up, distributing a set of them to Thom and me in a compilation called Seeing Italy: The Lost Letters. More recently, I typed up the entire collection—letters and postcards—in chronological order and presented them to Thom and Helen.

Helen first mentioned her idea of the two of us writing a book about our trip to Italy some years ago, and I loved the idea. The memories come flooding back whenever we reminisce about the trip, and with little prompting of Remember the time when…, or Remember how we used to…, we can compare our mental notes to the point where we can almost smell the rich earthiness of the Boboli Gardens or the musty, incense-infused churches, or visualize a typical Italian street scene with vendors of roasted chestnuts, and horse and buggies in every piazza. (Unfortunately, because he was very young at the time of the trip, Thom’s memories are not as clear or detailed.) We originally planned to use our parents’ letters as the basis for the book, but when Helen turned the project over to me, I decided to focus on the letters alone. Personal commentaries or explanations would be relegated to endnotes or separate sections.

It should be noted that these are letters and not formal, carefully composed essays. Thus the reader will find some repetition in the narratives as, for instance, Peg will write about an incident to her stepmother, Katharine, and then write about the same incident to Gib’s parents and sister (Nanny, Poppy, and May). In some cases, the accounts are different enough, with interesting changes in the details, so I thought it best to include both narratives. In other instances, I have carefully edited the text to include just one version of the story, keeping the one with more details or a livelier, more colorful description. I also left out sections that pertained to mundane matters—banking, insurance, membership renewals/dues, etc.—that were not necessary to this narrative and tended to make it drag. Finally, to play it safe, the names of certain friends and acquaintances have been changed to protect them from some particularly juicy or scandalous gossip.

Peggy especially enjoyed some original wordplay. For instance, instead of tenterhooks she would write tenderhooks, or scarse instead of scarce. Pins and needles became nins and peedles. Coolth is the opposite of warmth. For the most part, the reader will understand these colorful variations in the context of the letters.

We three kids (often referred to as the 3s) were encouraged to write postcards and letters to family members. In Tom’s case, before he really learned to write, he would dictate a letter and Peggy would write it down verbatim. These short correspondences are included and are reprinted here as written, complete with misspellings, non sequiturs, etc.

Here’s hoping that you, the reader, will enjoy the amazing, and amusing, adventures of the Firenze Kids.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am greatly indebted to several individuals who helped me fine-tune the manuscript. My familiarity with the letters often blinded me to trouble spots, be they misspellings, lack of or incorrect punctuation, or sections that needed a note of explanation. These readers were good enough to point out the problems and offer excellent suggestions. My thanks go out to my friends Ann Bevelhymer and Elizabeth Hwacinski for their assistance with this book.

My Italian is very rusty. Some Italian words Peg used in her letters were known to me, but many others were not. I am extremely grateful to Nives Poldrugo who acted as a third reader and, more importantly, translator of many Italian words and phrases, as well as the letter written by Gib to Katharine. She also enlightened me about various Italian customs and correct terminology, which I edited into the letters and incorporated into the endnotes. Mille grazie.

Finally, a thank-you to all those who, knowing of this project, encouraged me over the years to keep plugging along on it. And here it is.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Without this section, it would be confusing to understand some of the references made in the letters. I felt a brief Who’s Who list was needed to give some background on the relationships, interests, etc., of family members.

Margaret Peg Sherman (1918–2000)

Peg was born in Yonkers, New York, but her mother, Florence, was from Muskegon, the daughter of Thomas Hume, one of the city’s leading lumbermen. When Florence died, little Peggy (age two) and her father, Frank McKee, moved back to Muskegon to live with the Hume family for about four years. Her father’s business required the two of them to live in other cities in the eastern states, but when her father remarried, the family settled in North Muskegon. Peg graduated from Emma Willard School in Troy, New York, and then lived in New York City for the next thirteen years, where she pursued her studies in classical music and voice at Juilliard, eventually becoming an accomplished contralto. She had a number of friends in New York, including opera singer Chester Watson and his wife, Betty, and Maidie Scanlon. In 1948, she married Gilbert Sherman, and they made North Muskegon their home.

Interests: Classical music/singing, reading, history.

Gilbert Gib Sherman (1917–1995)

Gib was born and raised in Muskegon. After earning a degree in engineering from Michigan State University, he served in the Army Air Corps (later the U.S. Air Force) during World War II, mainly in the United States, but late in the war, he was stationed in India and China, where he flew the Hump. After the war, he continued to serve in the Civil Air Patrol. He and Peg knew each other as children, and their families were well acquainted. Before going to Italy, he had been employed at E. H. Sheldon & Co. but left the company for certain reasons unknown to his children.

Interests: Reading, history (especially American Civil War), flying, woodworking, sports (golf, bowling), Detroit Tigers baseball, Michigan State football.

Katharine Kay McKee, also Mum (1900–1977)

Peg’s mother died when Peg was two years old. When Peg was twelve, her father, Frank McKee, married Katharine Lacey, and they settled in North Muskegon. Katharine’s father, a graduate of West Point, was a colonel in the U.S. Army; so she grew up with a healthy sense of discipline. The couple had three more children: Frank Junior, Sue, and Alan. Frank McKee died in 1951. Katharine was a graduate of Smith College and a world traveler, both when young as an army brat and then in her later years. She was also involved in local civic and social groups (the American Red Cross and the League of Women Voters among others). Each year, she hosted a major Christmas party at her home with friends, family, and neighbors attending. The family matriarch, she was much beloved by her grandchildren, who called her Mum. (At the time of our trip, Katharine was planning to travel to Portugal and Spain in the spring of 1960, and Peg passed on some suggestions and advice.)

Sue McKee

Sue was Peg’s half sister. At the time of our trip to Italy, she was living in New York City and working for the Girl Scouts. She spent Christmas 1959 with her mother in North Muskegon.

Alan McKee

Alan was Peg’s half brother. He and his wife, Patricia, had recently married and lived in North Muskegon along with Harry Hotspur, their English bulldog. Their first child, Katharine Alice (Kathy), was born while we were in Italy.

Roberta Bobby and Jacob Ottobein Ott Funkhouser

Bobby was Peg’s cousin, and the two were very close. Bobby and Ott and their five children lived in Muskegon.

Helen Hume, Aunt Helen (1875–1949)

One of Peg’s beloved aunts. She was well read and traveled extensively, particularly in Europe. However, she also made a trip around the world in 1908.

Thomas Munroe Poppy Sherman (1882–1974)

A native of Muskegon, he always had a love for ships and, later, cars. As a youth, he enjoyed watching the ships come and go in Muskegon harbor, and at one point served as a cabin boy on a lumber schooner. He graduated from Bliff Electrical College and then became a test driver for the Marmon car company in Indiana. While in Paducah, Kentucky, he met Ellen Boswell, Nanny or Nannie (1892–1968), whom he later married. They lived in Muskegon, where Poppy taught automotive classes at Muskegon High School. They had three children: May, Gib, and his twin sister, Catherine.

May Sherman (1915–1983)

May worked as a secretary for a school in Muskegon. Never having married, she lived with her parents, along with Nikki, her pet parakeet. May typed up a number of the letters from Peg and Gib and gave each of us kids a set.

Catherine Weick (1917–2011)

She and her husband, Dr. George Weick, lived in Boise, Idaho, with their three children—David, Georgie, and Ellen.

Elizabeth L. Sherman, Aunt Lizzie (1878–1949)

Poppy’s older sister who earned a degree in Latin at the University of Michigan. For many years, she taught Latin at Jackson (Michigan) High School. Unfortunately, she never got the chance to visit Italy with its many ancient Roman sites.

Louise Weezie Eierman

A longtime family friend and housekeeper who house-sat for the Shermans while they were away and cared for the family dog, Dukie. Weezie did not drive, so her niece Harriet and other family friends regularly helped out.

Cornelia Neelie Hume

Family friend. Not related to Peg’s side of the family. She and Nanny shared a birthday (February 14) and jointly celebrated it each year.

Rosemary Sutcliffe (1920–1992)

Accomplished English author of many historical novels (The Eagle of the Ninth, The Chronicles of Robin Hood, and The Lantern Bearers are some of the best known). She and Peg began a regular correspondence from the 1940s on; and while very good friends, they had never met. Peg and Gib hoped the European trip would end in England and the family would meet Rosemary. While this plan did not work out in 1960, when they traveled to Britain in the 1970s, they, along with Helen and me, visited with Rosemary at her home in Sussex.

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

MS VULCANIA

The MS Vulcania and her sister ship, the MS Saturnia were owned by the Trieste-based shipping company Cosulich Societa Triestina di Navigazione (STN) lines. In 1937 Cosulich merged with several other navigation firms to form the Italia Line. With the resumption of transatlantic commercial voyages in 1947, the company was renamed Societa di Navigazione Italia, and the sister ships enjoyed thriving careers as luxury liners.

The MS Vulcania was built in 1926. She was a 23,970 gross ton vessel with a length of 631 feet and beam of 79.8 feet. With twin screw propulsion, she could cruise along at 19 knots. The ship underwent some major changes in 1930, which increased her tonnage to 24,469 and her speed to 21 knots with the addition of new diesel engines.

From late 1955 until 1965, the Vulcania maintained a transatlantic run between Trieste, Venice, Patras, Naples, Gibraltar, Lisbon, Halifax, and New York.

Eventually, air travel took business away from the ocean liners. Increasing fuel costs also forced the Italian cruise line to gradually cut back on transatlantic passenger service. In 1965, the ship was sold to another line, and then finally scrapped in 1974.

CALVERT SCHOOL

Calvert School, based in Baltimore, offers a high-quality, accredited homeschooling curriculum for grades K–8. The school provided the texts, accompanying materials, and guidebooks to be used by the instructors. Tests were sent to the school to be graded.

Peg and Gib did a very good job of keeping Helen and Whiz on track with their studies. However, there were times when maintaining the coursework schedule was difficult, especially during the frequent travels to various Italian towns in the spring of 1960. Once back home, Katharine worked with Whiz and Peg with Helen to finish the courses over the summer in time for the start of school in September.

MUSKEGON, MICHIGAN

Muskegon’s glory days were in the mid- to late 1800s, when she was a booming lumber town on the shores of Muskegon Lake, which connects to Lake Michigan. In the twentieth century, the city turned to heavier industries with factories making automobile parts, bowling equipment, and business furniture.

The letters home mention a number of places in Muskegon. Hardy Herpolsheimer’s (often called just Hardy’s) and Grossman’s were the two major department stores downtown. Daniel’s offered office supplies and furniture, as well as gifts, and had a small book department in the back. Peg often bought books here and, if requested, the bookstore manager, Sally Bond, would order books for customers. All three businesses were located along Western Avenue, Muskegon’s main downtown thoroughfare. Also located on Western was the Century Club, a social club founded by some prominent citizens during Muskegon’s lumber era.

The city’s newspaper is the Muskegon Chronicle. Family members regularly sent newspaper clippings to Peg and Gib, who in their letters occasionally commented on things happening on the home front.

The Shermans attended St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in downtown Muskegon, with family members having long-standing ties with the parish. Peg sang in the choir and later taught Sunday school. Gib served on the vestry. Both Helen and Whiz briefly took piano lessons from the church organist, Arnold Bourziel. The Reverend Walter Hurley was the minister at the time of this narrative.

The people of Muskegon mentioned in the letters include Dr. Kenneth Johnson (dentist), Dr. Bernard Wildgen (optometrist), Mrs. Briggs (dressmaker), Bill Crystal (realtor), Russ DeWald (Aetna insurance agent), Don Johnson (banker at Michigan Trust), Van Krenelen (pharmacist), Miss Pierson (kindergarten teacher at North Muskegon Elementary School), and Pete Buwalda (owner of Buwalda’s, an old-time grocery and hardware store in North Muskegon).

FAMILYISMS

Every family has them—the odd words and phrases that find their way into regular conversations with family members. Here are a few mentioned in the letters:

Charlie Brown—a snail (usually found in the Colombaia garden)

noodnik—a baby

pooh out—a form of poop out, i.e., get tired

the Shack—a cabin owned by the McKee family in Baldwin, Michigan

winkie (or blinkie) lights—a car’s tum signals

BOOKS

Gib and Peg were avid readers, and their letters often mentioned books they read or read to us kids. Helen and I also loved to read and enjoyed a number of books on this trip. Just for the record, titles, authors, and miscellaneous details/comments are listed below.

Buried Alive (1908) by Arnold Bennett (1867–1931)

Humorous novel satirizing London’s art world.

The Case of the Vagabond Virgin (Book 32 of the Perry Mason series) by Erle Stanley Gardner

Drums by Irish author Brian Oswald Donn-Bryne (1889–1928)

Journals by Arnold Bennett

The Player’s Boy by Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman, 1894–1983)

Peg mistakenly cites John Buchan (1875–1940), Scottish writer and governor general of Canada, as the author.

Sea and Sardinia (1921) by D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930)

Stones of Florence (1959) by Mary McCarthy (1912–1989)

A pictorial study of Florence.

Wapshot Chronicle (1957) by John Cheever (1912–1982)

Cheever’s first novel.

Andy Jackson’s Water Well by Walter O. Steele

Ballet Shoes (1938) by Noel Streatfeild

Dan’l Boone’s Echo by Walter O. Steele

Davy Crockett’s Earthquake by Walter O. Steele

All three of the Steele books are wildly funny.

Doctor Doolittle by Hugh Lofting

The Fairy Caravan by Beatrix Potter

Good Wives by Louisa May Alcott

Little Men by Louisa May Alcott

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Log of the Ark (1923) by Kenneth Walker and Geoffrey Boumphrey

The Magic Fishbone by Charles Dickens

Mary Poppins in the Park by P. L. Travers

The Story of Leif Ericson by William O. Steele

An exciting biography of the Viking explorer for older boys.

Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Helen loved it, and I read it on her recommendation. (We both have fond memories of the cat and the painkiller episode.)

Authors

Erle Stanley Gardner (1889–1970)

American author. Writer of detective stories and creator of Perry Mason.

E. (Edith) Nesbit (1858–1924)

British author of imaginative and magical books about children, the best known of which are The Five Children and It, The Phoenix and the Carpet, The Story of the Amulet, The Enchanted Castle, and The Railway Children.

Heinrich Schliemann (1822–1890)

Amateur archeologist credited for having discovered what is thought to be the ancient city of Troy.

Other books not mentioned in the letters but which loomed large in our memories were 101 Dalmatians by Dodie Smith (1956) and Bulfinch’s Mythology which was meant to be a useful reference book, but which Helen and I read cover to cover.

ITINERARY

Prologue

Departure from Muskegon

While this initial stage is not covered in any letters, Gib’s daily diary has this account, which brings the reader up to the first letter:

August 23, 1959

En route: Muskegon–New York

90°s, hot and humid with thunderstorms

Alan, Pat, and Mum drove us to Kalamazoo. Left at 11:30 in our (now Alan’s) station wagon with eight large bags, and Mum drove Peg and children. Said good-bye to Dukie not knowing when or if we will see him again.

Arrived in Kalamazoo about 2:00 and had a good dinner at Inman’s, and then went to railroad station. Train arrived at 4:30. Our car was near [the] end, so had to lug bags about a block in terrific heat. Nice to relax on train which was air-conditioned. Had supper on train and retired early.

August 24, 1959

New York City

Cloudy with rain, 70°-ish

Arrived in New York City at 9:00 a.m. Peg and kids and bags came to Hotel Windsor first, followed by myself with three other bags (suitcases)…

CHAPTER 1

Anchors Aweigh

August 29, 1959 (Saturday)

Dear Katharine—

Gib said he’d write Nanny and Poppy about our trip from embarkation time to the present, so I shall tell you about the days prior to the twenty-eighth, and you can get together on the news to date.

It was miserably hot and humid every day, but fortunately the sort of suite we had had two air-conditioners in it and almost every place we went was cooled. Inconsiderate of Mr. Wagner*, but he hasn’t gotten around to air-conditioning Central Park. However, Central Park was a great help to us, although we didn’t walk too far into it, or even explore as far as the lake.

The heat had the kids absolutely pooped, and poor old chubby Whiz couldn’t go too far as her fat little thighs got red and chapped. The zoo was good from the children’s point of view, though even they complained of the delicate odor of lion and camel. We had lunch there Monday on the terrace and then walked on to the carousel, where we indulged them in three or four rides. This, I believe, was the most popular activity of our New York stay. All in all, they did pretty well on their eating, at least trying things, but appetites were pretty low due to the heat somewhat and also the strangeness. We tried them on Chinese food one noon, but only Whiz was able to make a dent in hers. She does love chop suey.

Monday night, Sue came to our suite for a drink, and we ate right downstairs for convenience, and after putting the children to bed on a studio couch and two rollaways in the living room, we sat in the bedroom (also cooled) and talked until quite late. Also, Monday afternoon, we had taken the three to F. A. O. Schwarz. You can imagine they nearly went mad seeing such an array, and when we told them each could pick something reasonably practical, reasonably inexpensive, and reasonably convenient to everyone concerned, there was quite a terrible time of decision for each one. Helen wanted a doll more than anything, but realized reluctantly that she had a doll. Then she wanted a clarinet, which didn’t comply with rules stipulated (you can imagine the delight of passengers on the Vulcania at being serenaded by a clarinet solo at 6:00 a.m.). She got quite distraught when nothing seemed to work out, so I promised to bring her back first thing in the morning. The other two had finally managed to come to a decision. Whiz picked a very handsome book called Animals in Art (too big and too expensive, but at least it didn’t tootle). Tom chose some small dogs connected by chains.

To finish telling this tale of trying times, we must skip to the next morning, when we again descended upon F.A.O. Schwarz. I had tried to talk Helen into something to do, such as an embroidery set or a flower-making set, but to no avail. She got into quite a sulky, pouty state and was completely obnoxious, so again, I suggested putting off a decision and going down to Sak’s with Daddy to buy his coat while she thought it out. So all the way from 58th to 49th Street, the tears were running down her face, and when we got to Sak’s, she stood in a corner, the most miserable child in Manhattan. So while Daddy bought his coat, I took them all around the corner to Sak’s toy store, a very good one incidentally, rivaling Schwartz, although it doesn’t have as good a book department. Finally, after much soul searching and some disappointments (the dress-up high-heeled shoes, large size are much too short for Helen’s newly enlarged tootsies), she chose a small plastic doll with three clothes changes and a stapler for stapling on the clothes. It’s quite horrid, really, to see Helen pound down on the stapler and know the stapler is attaching panties to dolly’s back side.

We had made breakfast in the hotel’s kitchenette this morning; it was a fairly disappointing arrangement. There was a broken hot plate and a refrigerator handy for one Coke and a beer, but no dishes or cooking utensils. So we had bought [a] small percolator and a frying pan, and ordered dishes from room service. However, I had forgotten to order cereal bowls and to buy salt and pepper, so the children ate Rice Krispies out of glasses, and Gib had scrambled eggs unflavored. This deal didn’t work out very well, and I kept forgetting the cereal bowls, so we ate other breakfasts downstairs, and Sue inherited four eggs and a few other things.

After the Sak’s episode, we went to the Empire State Building and took the elevator to the 86th floor. It was terribly hot, so we went no farther—to the102nd floor—but had a hot dog among the crowd and got back down nicely. Visibility was only five miles as that day, like all the rest, was hazy, even though sunny. Gib took the children back to the hotel and the coolth, and I went to Lord & Taylor for material. The price is $3.50 a yard, so I will send you a check for $35. As I think of it, it will get complicated if Mrs. Briggs pays you for the material, etc. I’ll collect from her when I return. Also bought Weezie a slip for her birthday. Hope it fits. If it doesn’t, she’ll have to diet. Then went to Grand Central to pick up bags that Gib couldn’t cope with Monday morning.

Tommy napped this afternoon, so he felt more chipper when we went out to meet the Weinmans for drinks at Trader Vic’s. This, you probably know, is exotic South Sea atmosphere, large expensive drinks, mostly rum based, and practically a five-course meal of hors d’oeuvres, little shrimp pasties, spare ribs, and poi, and similar delicacies. Sort of wasted on the kids, but it was different from Howard Johnson’s at least. The Weinmans seemed just the same, and it was as if weeks had gone by since we saw each other instead of years. Bob’s delightful sense of humor was as fine and sharp as ever, and he and Gib got chummy right off. Jane has her old spirited manner and still looks like a horse hearing the call to battle. Chris was with them. Paul couldn’t be with us as he was on the Cape visiting. Chris is ten, looks like Jane’s brother with his spicy shock of sandy hair. He was extremely well mannered, thereby putting the three in the shade. There was very little rapport between him and Helen or Whiz, but he was happy to see all the comic books when we went back to the hotel after dinner.¹

I have mixed up my days—the Weinman’s episode was Wednesday night, and on Tuesday, we had dinner at Miss Sue’s, and then took her to dinner at the 86th Street Brauhaus, which is where Maxie’s of fond memories used to be. However, it was nice, and the kids enjoyed the dumpy little band.

My writing is getting worse as I’m doing this in bed and the boat is pitching quite a bit. Helen fell by the wayside this morning and spent most of the day in her bunk. Even Dramamine didn’t stay down, but some soda crackers and some cold chicken did. Gib is a little queasy, but, thank you, Old Ironsides herself is still functioning. The heat continues although it is comfortable above deck. It’s hard to decide whether to peel off all clothes and stay in the cabin or go above and wear what’s decent.

Margaret and Gilbert descending the ship’s grand staircase to attend the Captain’s dinner. (Photo by ship’s photographer)

We were invited tonight to the Captain’s cocktail party and got done up in our finery. Were seated with some pleasant people, one nice Haynes (Mrs.) reminding us of [family friend] Carol Munroe—and no higher praise in my estimation. Then a Mr. Boyer from Boyertown, Pa., near Philadelphia, who has been everywhere, said, you’ll be glad to know, that Paoli is very nice, an old spot now.

Tuesday, AM

This may be one of those running-for-a-week letters, as I never seem to get to an end. However, will try Wednesday, then write again so that two letters will be mailed from Lisbon. Some of our ports of call, such as Barcelona, have been canceled due to picking up time on the schedule—still the effects of the strike, I suppose. This morning we had the doctor for Helen. He gave us some suppositories to use, and now I’m waiting to see if they take effect. It’s hard to see how such a little motion could bother her. It’s meant a lot of staying in the cabin for me, and the others also stick like burrs, so it hasn’t been too restful so far. At night, though, I sleep at least 7½ hours, so am catching up a little. The heat has made us all limp and worn, and the laundry problem has been enormous. So I particularly want it cold right away soon. Strangely enough, pollen or something has followed me out into the Atlantic, but it hasn’t been too bad.

The M.V. Vulcania. (from a postcard)

The ship is delightful, not too large and rather elegant in an old-fashioned way—dark reddish-brown woodwork and patterned carpets. The service is out of this world, and we have made good use of it, especially with Helen’s trouble. Our steward is a dear, and everyone is most helpful with the children. Our dining room steward is also a sweetie, and I plucked up courage to address a few words to him in Italian. Why, you’d a thought I was his dearest long-lost old auntie. He was so pleased, and now talks to us as though we were next-door neighbors of his in old Padua or somewhere. Gib is making an effort and the other day came out with Bene! [Fine! Well!]. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, Gib or the waiter. I seemed to have overstepped my lines