Author Archive for Beverley – Page 8

Let’s Talk MAJOR Movie Legends: Kirk Douglas, Marlene Dietrich & Rita Hayworth

by Beverley
August 23rd, 2011

Today is sort of movie legend day. I originally was going to tell you only about a secret concerning Rita Hayworth’s legendary strapless satin gown from Gilda and details of the famous gown and coat Marlene Dietrich wore in Las Vegas, both designed by the late Hollywood designer Jean Louis.

However I got a very disturbed email this morning from my good friend Kathleen Fetner without whom there would be no blog. Kathleen came into my life when a friend in Atlanta, GA, Joan Aherns gave me Kathleen’s name when I needed someone to do my first website in 1998 for my first book, the once-again newly reprinted Splendid Slippers – A Thousand Years of an Erotic Tradition. Kathleen is a genius. What more can I say. She can deal with me trying to do things I’m incapable of doing on this PC for starters. She can get me out of all the messes I manage to type my way into. She can make photographs of shoes for bound feet and women with bound feet revolve in my blog, and my latest Tweets magically appear going round and round as well. She can find things like ancient video on Florence Chadwick swimming and Russian Cossacks marching in Shanghai in 1937 it would never occur to me to look for. Well, as I said there would be no By The Way nor Beverley Jackson blog without Kathleen. And further more I couldn’t be without her as a friend.

Now what upset Kathleen? A Terrible Tabloid she saw while checking out at the supermart. While I might sometimes secretly succumb to picking one up and peeking to see if someone famous is really having a wild affair with someone I know???? Kathleen would never dignify the TT’s by even a glance. But she had broken her rule when she saw the name Kirk Douglas in headlines. Knowing Anne and Kirk are adored friends of mine she sent me a very upset email. Is Kirk barely able to walk, is it true he’s never learned to talk again since his stroke, etc etc etc.

I immediately answered Kathleen with a quick email from my iPhone as I was walking to my car, late as usual. “Saturday before last I dined at Mollie’s Trattoria with Anne & Kirk & the super bright young man who is working with Kirk on the latest book he’s writing. We parked in the garage in Mollie’s building. That garage is in the basement & there are two flights of stairs up to Mollie’s. Still using the cane due to the fall I recently had I took the elevator. Anne, a fine athlete still, graciously took elevator with me. Kirk and his young pal TORE up the two flights of stairs to beat our elevator up. And they did! Then Kirk talked more than any of us at dinner. Don’t even glance at the TT’s anymore!”

Now with Kirk’s situation clarified in case any of you secretly look at the Terrible Tabloids, let’s get on to Rita Hayworth. For a very long time the strapless satin gown Hollywood designer Jean Louis created for her to wear in Gilda was the most copied gown in history. Now I suppose Princess Diana or the Duchess of Cambridge‘s wedding gowns will hold that honor. But in its day that Gilda dress was IT!

Maggie and Jean Louis, who lived in Santa Barbara/Montecito their last years, were very special friends. Miss Rosie O’Grady, my introduction to wirehair dachshunds, was a gift from them. Maggie always named all their dogs good Irish names. Rosie came to me because the five Jack Russells that the Louis had before they found neglected lost Rosie didn’t like the new addition to the Louis household and it got dangerous for Rosie. I learned Jack Russells in a pack cannot be trusted. The five at Maggie and Jean’s ultimately killed the family cat after living with it for years. And they killed a little white poodle who arrived with a friend of Maggie’s for a painting session after the owner disregarded Maggie’s warning not to take the dog out of the car. So Rosie came to me and had a very happy safe long life!

I delighted in getting Jean to tell me about gowns he had designed for Hollywood glamour queens — Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, Rita Hayworth, Marlene Dietrich, Lana Turner, Claudette Colbert, Marilyn Monroe (he designed the much photographed gown she wore the night she sang “Happy Birthday” to President Kennedy.) I was particularly interested in the strapless satin gown Rita Hayworth wore in Gilda. And the incredible beaded seemingly see-through creation with great white fox coat with a seemingly endless train that trailed behind Marlene Dietrich which Jean produced for her last Las Vegas show. I flew to Las Vegas to see that show as I was a great Dietrich admirer and I did want to see the dress she supposedly had to be sewn into before going on stage. It was well worth the trip. She/it were fabulous!

At one point I read that some collector had paid a great deal of money to buy the original Gilda dress. That was before costume collecting became such a big thing and prices really skyrocketed. I asked Jean about it. He smiled that sweet innocent smile of his, looked at me and said, “I wonder which one they got?” Then after chuckling to himself he added, “I knew that dress was being worn in a major scene in the film and it would endure a real beating with take after take after take. So I secretly made three identical dresses.” Now the secret is out.

Maggie and Jean were wonderful people and they gave the BEST parties. Their New Years Eve parties were very special, always with interesting assortment of guests like brilliant American designer James Galanos and members of the Moroccan royal family. At one of their large parties my dinner partners were Rudolf Nuryev on one side and Alexander Godunov on the other. I’m talking MAJOR ballet greats here! This party was actually the beginning of a treasured friendship with Rudi Nuryev. One thing that kept that friendship going to be honest wasn’t that I made him laugh or he enjoyed my company. It was that he collected Chinese robes and I had much better ones than he. There was one robe in particular he coveted, an emperor’s robe with superb embroidery. I kept telling him I’d leave it to him when I died and he kept hoping to get it sooner. Then he went and died! The robe is now in an important American museum. I’d rather Rudi had had it.

with the late Rudolf Nureyev & Jean Louis in my living room

Rudolf Nuryev, Jean Louis and me. One of my Chinese robes Rudi tried to get me to give him was the brown imperial princess robe with branches of plum blossoms hanging behind us in my living room

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Sure I Cooked Dinner for Julia Child: Often and Unafraid

by Beverley
August 17th, 2011
L to R: Me, Robert Walker, Julia Child, and Eleanor Lum at Julia Child's Cambridge home (photo credit: Raymond Lum)

L to R: Beverley Jackson, Robert Walker, Julia Child, and Eleanor Lum at Julia Child's Cambridge home (photo credit: Raymond Lum)

I’m driving home from the local Chinese restaurant with my station wagon filled with the lovely mixed fragrances of moo goo gai pan, imperial shrimp, Mongolian lamb, and other specialties. While stalled in traffic my thoughts go to the past and I switch on my little recorder. I think of the hours and days spent chopping and preparing Chinese feasts with recipes I’d learned from all the cooking lessons with Hugh Carpenter as well as teachers in Hong Kong and Taipei. I think of the entire wall of cook books in my kitchen, some well worn and stained with everything from Chinese hoisin sauce to rare Cassis bottled at Chateau Mouton Rothschild exclusively for the use of family and going away gifts for special house guests when leaving Mouton.

Oh this traffic seems interminable! Memories of Italian cooking lessons with famous Guiliano Bugialli come back. Bugialli was so strict. Then memories of my dear friend, the late Guiseppe Bellini in his great home in Florence overlooking the Arno River where I stayed on several occasions with him and wife Pat. Beppe loved to cook. Even wrote some cookbooks I have. In Italian. No I don’t speak Italian. Beppe had a complete kitchen staff but when he entered his kitchen even his chef was reduced to chopping assistant. One of Beppe’s greatest dishes was a pasta dish served en croute made in a gigantic bowl that could serve at least 30 at dinner. Oh the fragrance when he broke into that pasta pie! Whenever the Bellinis arrived in Santa Barbara for their annual visit to houseguest with Mary and Gordon Douglas, Pat immediately took a book and spread out on a chaise poolside. And Beppe called me to come pick him up to go marketing and that night I would have the fun and honor of assisting him in whipping up a great feast in my small condo kitchen. It was from Beppe long ago, before Alice Waters was born, I first learned to buy only the freshest straight from the fields.

Beppe Bellini comes out of kitchen where he cooked for banquet

You Can See Beppe Likes Showing His Great Culinary Skills

Now there appears to be an accident ahead. Just what I don’t need! I’ve got to get home well before guests arrive for Chinese dinner in my Chinese bed dining room. More time to remember! Moroccan cooking. Did I study that in Morocco? No it was with my American friend Robert Carrier who settled in England and had a restaurant, small inn and gave cooking lessons in his 16th century Hintlesham Hall near Ipswich. Robert Carrier’s cook books on the marvelous Moroccan cuisine are some of the very best in English language.

Then there was my friend Jim Beard. I devoured his cookbooks before Julia Child‘s came out. And I had some lessons in New York in his home where I was also fortunate enough to dine on occasion.

Julia! Ah yes Julia. We were friends long before she and Paul moved into the building across the street from me in our condo compound. Did I learn to cook with Julia? No. No but her first cookbook did become my cooking Bible. However we did shop together. There was one occasion when she wanted to go to the giant Chinese market in Arcadia I’d go for Chinese supplies — No that’s another blog. But speaking of shopping with Julia, I got a frantic call from a friend Nancy Cudahy one day who had just been shopping at Von’s. Von’s is a chain of California supermarkets. “Beverley you must tell me what to do. Julia Child was in Von’s shopping. So I pushed my cart right behind her and everything she put into her cart I put into my cart. Now I’m home with over $200 worth of groceries and I don’t know what to do with any of them!”

I frequently dined with Julia and Paul, even in their charming home in Cambridge, MA. There we dined in the big cozy kitchen that is now housed in the Smithsonian Museum in Washington, DC. Needless to say dining Chez Child was a great treat. And I’ll do an entire blog on that one day.

However, Julia and Paul often dined with me in Santa Barbara. “Aren’t you scared to cook for Julia Child?” I was frequently asked. No of course not. She appreciated people making the effort. Although she never once left after a meal in my home without commenting, “Dear you didn’t cook the vegetables enough!” I like crunchy Julia liked squishy. Other than that we agreed on everything.

Well traffic is moving a bit now and my thoughts, aside from thinking how bright the yellow Ferrari ahead of me is, are wandering to the hours spent learning to carve flowers out of turnips and carrots and strange vegetables I’ve never seen since with one of the experts in the kitchens of the Imperial Hotel in Bangkok. Oh yes and the series of lessons in making Indian samosas with Sri Lankan Indra Jayasekera in her little apartment in Hong Kong. I’ve never made a samosa since! The Indian restaurant in downtown Santa Barbara does such a good job with them.

Indra Jayasekera teach how to make samosas in HK 4/4/82

Sri Lankan Indra Jayasekera teaching us how to make Indian samosas in her Hong Kong apartment.

Well finally pushing the gadget that opens the gates to get into our compound. Have to get upstairs fast to get everything into woks and toss all the tell-tale red takeout cartons down the trash slide before the guests arrive.

Gee I hope they remembered not to cook the snow peas, to give them to me raw in a separate container. I always make a ceremony of tossing them into the restaurant’s moo goo gai pan when there are guests in my kitchen. They are so impressed with my culinary skills as I frantically whip those snow peas around in the hot wok!

Dining in my Chinese wedding bed dining room

Dining in my Chinese wedding bed dining room

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

The Resourceful Worker

by Beverley
August 10th, 2011
apricot picker Sorrento

The apricot picker in Sorrento

As one thing generally does lead to another, it’s not really surprising that my blog discussing the island Capri led me to an apricot picker in Sorrento in 1972. Well it wouldn’t really be logical that this would happen to anyone else, but for me it did. If you were writing a blog about Capri it could very well lead you to a followup blog on giant rock structures in the sea, or great recipes for linguini vongole, or maybe addresses for the best handmade sandals on the island. But for me it led to a most inventive apricot picker in Sorrento.

What really happened is it led me to the picture you see here. I hadn’t encountered this photograph in years but running across it again I have to admit it is one of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken. Just something snapped out the car window on a winding road high up in the hills of Sorrento.

Now I could stretch this into a big long blog. I could go on and on about the reason we should wash fruit carefully before biting into the delicious offerings of summer trees. I could lecture a bit on how inventive people can be about making their work more efficient. Could even give you some great recipes for apricot jam.

But you know what — I’m just going to say isn’t this just the most fun picture and let it go at that. I think with all the disturbing news we are facing right now it’s time for my creative apricot picker in Sorrento to hopefully bring a smile…

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Sadly Diana Nyad Couldn’t But I Was With Florence Chadwick The Night She Did

by Beverley
August 9th, 2011

This blog was started as a way to promote my latest book The Beautiful Lady Was a Palace Eunuch but things keep leading me to writing a new blog, not getting busy sending copy to reviewers and trying to get publicity for the book.

A CNN alert just came up on my screen announcing the very brave Diana Nyad was forced to give up her swim from Cuba to USA. My heart goes out to her because my friend the late Florence Chadwick was forced to give up a Catalina to Pacific Coast swim her first time attempt, but I was right there on a yacht next to her the entire second time she attempted that swim again and made it.

It all started with father’s newly divorced brother who was, from what I gathered, working his way through the list of eligible women in San Diego, CA. My lawyer father’s brother insisted dad help his latest girlfriend, Florence Chadwick, who had gotten in over her head regarding her next attempt at the Catalina Channel. Female channel swimmers were not my father’s thing. He started as a criminal lawyer until someone tried to kidnap me when I was 2-1/2. He then had straight business clients like young Norton Simon and ultimately got into what he loved, trucks. He became the leading trucking transportation lawyer in the U.S. None of which prepared him to take on his brother’s ocean channel swimming girlfriend!

But as always brother won out. I never totally understood but it seemed to have something to do with her raising money for her swim by selling percentages of her swim to men with money. But by the time she landed in dad’s lap she’d sold over 100% of the next swim from Catalina to San Pedro and was in deep trouble. Florence had to be hidden as a first step. Where? In the bedroom next to mine in our home. And she had to practice daily in secret. She couldn’t go to a public beach for ocean practice with all those men who owned too much of her swim after her. How? I drove her down to the old Del Mar Club in Santa Monica (now a lovely hotel) where there was a secluded indoor pool of almost Olympic proportions. My father had somehow arranged for us to have the pool to ourselves in strict privacy every day for five hours. I’d tie a rope around Florence’s waist and the other end to the diving board. While she started swimming non- stop against the rope which gave her the action of swimming against waves (sort of) I took out a good book (went through a lot of books before she completed that swim!!!) and every hour I held out a cup of sugar and water our housekeeper had prepared attached to the end of a long wooden pole. I think that’s what it was. If I were swimming against a diving board for five hours a day I think I would have wanted something more interesting than sugar and water! After the swim we went home where mother and I had early dinner with Florence and dad who talked business throughout, Florence went straight to bed after dinner and I went out dancing to one of the Sunset Strip nightclubs like Mocambo, Trocadero or Ciro’s or the Coconut Grove in the old Ambassador Hotel. And the next morning back to the Del Mar Club, robe, sugar water, another book.

Then came the big day. What most people never knew, the shark danger for Florence’s swim was secretly much more dangerous than anyone could imagine. Sharks are attracted by blood and this was not a day in the month Florence should have been making the swim. But she was fearless. And the cold water shut off the bleeding problem a short way off the coast of Catalina.

Now I said I was there with her. Well I wasn’t in that freezing water you can be sure. One of my special BFF’s except we called them best friends then was Mary Margaret Muller and her Uncle Frank Muller had a wonderful yacht named The Mojo and a Filipino houseman who was a fine chef. So my parents, and Mary Margaret’s and Uncle Frank and MM and I had a lovely warm crossing with continuous fabulous dining. Cuddled into cashmere sweaters and skirts and camel hair coats occasionally we’d stop eating and venture out on deck to watch Florence ploughing through the icy waves. We had lights on our ship shining on her as did her attending boats.

At one exciting point the coach in the small boat that gave her nourishment every hour at the end of the long pole (it was probably something better than our Emma had been making for two months) invited me to board their little boat and make that hour’s serving with them. I was more agile in those days and somehow got myself from the Mojo into the little boat and off we went. As Florence covered in bear grease, I think it was as some protection against the cold, slowed her strokes to take her nutrition she looked up and saw me from her freezing position and shouted, “You shouldn’t be out here Little Sister, you’ll catch cold!” She then gulped her drink down and continued on battling the high waves and I went back to my luxurious surroundings aboard the Mojo until we all got to San Pedro beach. Well, we dropped anchor off shore of course.

Florence did indeed make the successful crossing but her torturous hours in the freezing water and her world’s record were almost destroyed by unknowing well-wishers on shore who ran down to greet her. Luckily her coaching attendants had guards waiting on the beach for just such a happening. Had anyone touched her before she stood up in the water and walked out of the Pacific and on the sand by herself, it would have all been in vain.

That was 59 years ago and the memory is still so strong I get chills thinking of her in that water all those hours and the fright as people rushed towards her before she was out of the water.

Somehow my father had solved her legal problems and there were no hits out on her and she moved out as my suite mate and back to San Diego and got on with her life and Little Sister, as she called me, danced on with hers except my father had lowered the boom and issued an ultimatum — either I go back to university, get married or get a job. So I got architect William Pereira to take me on as his receptionist and I had a dream job and still danced the nights away. Daddy was happy. I was happy. And Bill found me a great receptionist because I knew most of his clients’ children and the clients themselves. But that will be discussed sometime in the future. I’ve really got to get busy and send out press releases on The Beautiful Lady was a Palace Eunuch. If you all would spread the word about my book, word of mouth is what sells books now they tell me, then I could concentrate full time on telling you stories like this!!!

Here is a fun video found on Youtube of her appearance on the TV show “What’s My Line?”:

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Married After 50 Years Together

by Beverley
August 5th, 2011

Parker Ladd and Arnold Scassi‘s wedding in New York last week was a very happy occasion making international news. Following the private civil ceremony there was a major celebration at Le Cirque attended by a most impressive group of friends. I wasn’t there, but I do have a Parker and Arnold story to tell you…

It was 1972 and we were all spending some weeks on the beautiful, in those days uncrowded, island of Capri. One evening at a dinner party in a very glamorous home high above the Quisisana Hotel I was telling Parker and Arnold and an Irish character actor whose name sadly has vanished from memory that I thought there was a ghost in the home where I was staying. While my two friends from the United States didn’t particularly react, the Irish gentleman was genuinely intrigued. So I invited the three of them for luncheon later in the week to check out my ghost scene.

The home where the suspected ghost might be living was called Torre Saracena and belonged to my close friend Tamara Cherio Usher (now Kinsell). For those of you who know Capri it was the large estate that descended down the mountain towards Gracie Fields Club on the beach on the far side of Capri. It had been Tamara’s parent’s beach house, their main house and her mother’s painting studio had been sold earlier. Today, no longer owned by Tamara. Torre Saracena has been converted into five large condominiums.

Arnold Scassi and Frederico Usher, Capri 1972

Arnold Scassi and Frederico Usher, Capri 1972

One walked down many steps from the road to get to the house, 72 I recall counting one night when I returned from dancing for hours in very high heels! And then there were seemingly endless descending steps from floor to floor. It was on the last ten steps leading to the level where my lovely large room was located, and on into that room, that I felt the ghostly presence. By the way, the terrace off my bedroom overlooked the famed so often photographed three giant rocks called Faraglioni.

The luncheon day arrived and Arnold, Parker and I went out to the main terrace where luncheon would be served to look at the view and enjoy aperitifs but our Irish friend had interest in only one thing. He was on the trail of a ghost! I actually was quite relaxed about things because I received very friendly protective vibes from my suspected ghost. Finally luncheon was announced and our friend reappeared with a very pleased look on his face. “You are quite correct. I sense the presence as well. It is in a very limited area however — the large hallway and bedroom inside on this floor and the last ten steps of the stairs leading to this level.” No one said a word. The only sound was the shattering of the glass I had held as it hit the ancient stone flooring of the terrace. He found it exactly where I felt the presence and I’d purposely given him no clue.

When Tamara returned from Naples I told her of the experience and she took it in her usual easy manner. “I don’t know who it is, but I’m not surprised that we have one!” So I never found out any history of MY ghost as he/she became but we lived together very nicely my entire stay. I really felt I’d be quite protected in case of any emergency. My nice ghost was there watching over me.

There was another sort of ghostly experience this trip that started in Capri and ended with a face looking out at me from the window of a passing bus on Madison Avenue in New York City. But that is for another blog. As is the ghost in my Kinnerton Street mews in London. Oh dear, I do seem to attract ghosts don’t I!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Men Didn’t Like Women Wearing Trousers

by Beverley
August 2nd, 2011

Reading an obscure article on when women in Britain were not being allowed to wear trousers for other than sports events through most of history I was reminded of two things.  One was the old Talk of the Town restaurant in Santa Barbara in the  1960’s.  I arrived at the popular restaurant for a dinner party being hosted there by Vesta and Robert Hutchins. Robert Hutchins was formerly Chancellor of University of Chicago and in Santa Barbara headed the Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions who brought people of every type of political thinking and accomplishment to Santa Barbara. The Center was a most exciting part of our town for many years.  But back to that Talk of the Town dinner party with extremely important guests of honor.  I arrived wearing new Palazo Pajamas I’d bought in Rome from a young designer named Valentino in his shop on the Via Condotti.  The new style pajamas were a great extravagance and I was very proud of them.  However, the stuffy owner of Talk of the Town who knew me well refused to allow me in wearing pants!  Well the outfit had a long dramatic tunic on top so I simply slipped out of the trousers right there in front of the maitre d’, my date and him, handed them to a valet parker to put in our car and the speechless owner couldn’t say a word.  I’ve read of other women doing this later but I hadn’t heard of anyone before!

The other episode concerned my good friend the late Sir Hugh Wontner, chairman and major owner with Mme. d’Oyly Carte of the Savoy Group of London (hotels including Savoy, Claridge’s, Connaught, Lancaster Paris, and The Berkley) and Lord Mayor of London 1973-74. During luncheon with him one day at Claridge’s he confided a rather embarrassing predicament he’d been in that morning. Coming down from the fabulous penthouse he’d built atop Claridge’s after WWII (actually he built two — one for himself and one that was rented by Walter Annenberg former US Ambassador to Court of St. James and later to Stavros Niarchos) in the lobby Sir Hugh spotted a woman wearing horror of horror pants in the lobby of Claridge’s.  Quickly summoning over his trusted assistant manager of the hotel Michael Bentley he ordered Michael to send the woman out of the lobby immediately. If she must exit the hotel in trousers then she must use the servant’s elevator and exit!

Michael always the great diplomat hesitated.  “Sir Hugh, this presents a bit of a problem.  You see the woman in trousers you refer to is married to the president of the United States.”  Michael confessed to me later he’d never seen Sir Hugh at a loss for words before in their long history of working together.  Jackie Kennedy unknowingly had made history!  And Hugh only picked at his delicious luncheon that day muttering occasionally under his breath!!!  I could only imagine what he was saying…

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

A Grand Old Ship Holds Memories

by Beverley
July 29th, 2011

My friend David Patrick Columbia’s New York Social Diary continually comes up with memory-stirring articles for me. Earlier this week he did an article on a benefit held by the SS United States Conservancy in Philadelphia. The Conservancy was established in 2004 to refurbish and repurpose the ship of that name that was launched in 1952 and retired  in 1996. The benefit was held aboard the SS United States now moored at the Corinthian Yacht Club outside Philadelphia near the Delaware River Pier.

Picture postcard showing the SS United States. Sold on ship for passenger and souvenir use. Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The gala sounded very grand with a dinner straight off the first class menus from the days when the ship sailed back and forth across the Atlantic. The profits from the event are going towards creating a museum aboard the SS United States. This ship was the largest ocean liner ever made in the United States. Original cost was $78,000,000. It was a very grand ship indeed. As elegant in every way as the Cunard Line ships making the same Trans Atlantic journey. Although through the years my favorite ships were the French Lines Liberte and Ile de France and the Italian Michelangelo, the SS United States has a very warm spot in my memories.

My parents and I sailed on the second crossing of the SS United States in 1953.  We traveled by train from Los Angeles to New York City where our journey began.  Our large wardrobe trunks, packed carefully in Los Angeles, somehow magically were sitting in our staterooms when we boarded the ship in New York.  What a difference from today’s travel, dragging suitcases on wheels behind us with bags hanging around our necks as well.  It was THE way to travel. You unlocked the trunk and the gowns were all hanging neatly on hangers (you dressed for dinner very grandly every night except first night out and last night before landing).  Drawers held everything else in the most orderly fashion.  And one could keep track of  the places they  had visited by the interesting labels hotels in the various countries you visited offered with their hotel stationery.  These were plastered all over the trunks. Two more things only a memory now, luggage labels and piles of hotel stationery for your use!  And of course when you disembarked there was no worry.  Sturdy porters took charge of the trunks and made sure they were waiting in your hotel room by the time you got to London from Southampton. Oh so very civilized.

Beverley Jackson on the SS United States with flowers & trunk

Me surrounded by some of bon voyage flowers sent to me in my stateroom.

There were  going away parties in your stateroom for those visitors who came to see you off. I joined forces with my parents for our party held in their stateroom that had both a bedroom and a sitting room so was much larger than mine. But I had many more flowers in my stateroom which was an important part of sailing. Until I entered the stateroom and saw flowers everywhere I confess I was apprehensive that maybe no one would send me flowers. But all my beaux came through! My parents received mainly bottles of champagne and large baskets of exotic fresh fruits and special chocolates wishing them bon voyage. Among my friends in New York who came to see me off were an interesting couple from Pakistan, Amir and Anar Fancy. Amir, the son of the major tycoon of Pakistan, was and possibly still is a close associate of the Aga Khan. Sadly through the years I have lost contact with them. But I have happy memories of our friendship and their last visit to me in Los Angeles.

Aboard SS United States David Morgan & Amir and Anar Fancy

Three of my friends who came to see me off: The late David Morgan and Amir and Anar Fancy.

Then came the time when the party must end. “All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore” blasted over the loud speaker. Hugs and kisses and good wishes and requests of things to please bring back, and off the visitors went down the gangplank. While we stood at the railing looking down they were now on firm land waving up at us. The orchestra was playing (interesting now while none of these farewell visits and parties aboard ship are possible due to strict security measures, whenever a Crystal Cruise ship sails from a port over the loud speaker they play Louis Armstrong singing What A Wonderful World — I cannot hear that song any more without reliving sailing out of places like Elba, Cartagena, Yokohama, Santorini, Shanghai and best of all Istanbul at midnight under a full moon. Sing on Louis!)

Back on the SS United States about to sail.  Steam was now billowing out of the two red funnels, the band was playing,  everyone was waving and shouting last minute words you really couldn’t hear and there was a veritable net of brightly colored paper serpentine thrown by us at the railing to the waving friends below.  It was rather a bond between us and those we were leaving behind.  Then one heard the grinding of the anchor being hauled up, the churning of machinery deep within the ship in full action and soon we were sailing past the Statue of Liberty with the skyline of New York City fading fast from our view.

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

They Play Polo In Moscow Too

by Beverley
July 24th, 2011

The invitation read:

Moscow Polo Club vs. Santa Barbara Polo & Racquet Club Exhibition Polo Match 5:00 pm followed by a Beluga Vodka Celebration.

Now who could resist an invitation like that! This was a fun relaxing event played on a field without grandstand so it was casual seating on chairs or grass — and that Beluga Vodka Celebration started before the match so it was an exceedingly relaxed event! They poured a lot of Beluga Vodka before this late afternoon event was over. There was no printed programs but I did spot friends Ken Barry and Wesley Ru playing for Santa Barbara and a very pretty young girl with long blonde ponytail was playing for Moscow along with her proud Russian father. Many young female Santa Barbara spectators showed no local loyalty it must be noted and were rooting for an exceedingly handsome young professional Argentine player on the Moscow team!

Cossack Horsemen

Cossack Horsemen

The Russians played and rode well, but Russians have always been great horsemen. After the fall of Czar Nicholas II in 1917 when the White Russians (Russians loyal to the Czar) fled the country they generally ended in Shanghai, China. It was the one place these stateless refugees without passports were accepted. It was very difficult for most of them to make a living. Men and women who in some cases had previously borne the titles of dukes or counts, duchesses or countesses owning palaces with hundreds of servants and serfs, found themselves working as taxi drivers, bus drivers, body guards for rich Chinese afraid of kidnapping, prostitutes, or doormen, waiters, chefs, entertainers in the many glamorous Russian cabarets found in the French Concession. From these night spots so popular with expat westerners came the sounds of Russian balalaikas playing mournful songs like Otchichornya as the towering White Russian doormen in full costume helped them out of their automobiles. Inside former Cossack officers performed wild saber-flashing whirling dances and groups of Russian gypsy violinists serenaded at their tables. Affluent members of Shanghai’s foreign community feasted on great bowls of finest caviar from Vladivostok and such Russian dishes as sturgeon pouched in liquid of dill pickles served with a sauce of Madeira and wild red cherries. They drank vast quantities of French champagne or chose from 40 kinds of vodka in these fabulous Russian cabarets.

However for many former cavalry officers in the Czar’s armies horses became their livelihood. These men became the riding instructors in Shanghai. If western or wealthy Chinese children were sent off with their amahs for riding lessons, it was from the super strict former Cossack officers they learned.

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

If She Were British She’d Be A Dame – A Very Special Dame!

by Beverley
July 19th, 2011

The last fan letter I wrote was to Orson Welles when I was about 12 years old. Actually it was for him and Joseph Cotten.  I was totally mesmerized by their superb voices on the radio show Mercury Theatre on the Air.  Well I think now enough years have passed that I can write a second fan letter so here goes……….

Marilyn Horne, Barbara Cook & Me

Left Marilyn Horne, center Beverley Jackson, right Barbara Cook

To Marilyn Horne, a woman I respect and admire beyond possible words.  For years before we became friends, like every music lover in the world, I worshiped her for her magnificent  voice.  Now that we are good friends – that means I can call her Jackie instead of Marilyn – I positively worship her for being the kindest, warmest, finest human being imaginable.  To sit in on one of her Master Classes and see how lovingly she treats each student.  How much she cares.  How much she wants to help them reach their full potential.  No screaming and belittling as I’ve seen others do when conducting Master Classes.  She is all praise and encouragement.

This past week I had the pleasure of attending Opera Scenes at the Music Academy of the West with her 2011 young students performing magnificently in scenes from among others Puccini’s La Rondine act 1 and Rossini’s L’italiana in Algeri Act 2 duet. What an exciting afternoon of incredible voices with so much promise for the future this proved to be.

Every summer Marilyn Horne is here in Santa Barbara working night and day with her students at the Music Academy. And the rest of the year she is involved with music festivals and so many other activities all over the world. If she is needed she is there no matter how many hours in airports and planes it might require. Most special in her life is the time she devotes to her beloved daughter and grandchildren. But she is there for her friends as well. As busy as she is there is always a shoulder to cry on, a caring person to listen. Marilyn Horne brings laughter as well as warmth, honesty and true caring to all.

Since it has been close to 70 years between my two fan letters, I guess we can consider this my final one.  Jackie, I couldn’t have ended my fan letter writing career with a finer more worthy human being!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

On Display in the Front Windows

by Beverley
July 19th, 2011
The Beautiful Lady Was a Palace Eunuch at Tecolote Book Shop

"The Beautiful Lady Was a Palace Eunuch" gets shown off in Montecito's Tecolote Book Shop window

What a nice surprise when I went to the Post Office in upper Montecito Village today. Walking past Tecolote Book Shop I saw a window full of my books, the brand new The Beautiful Lady Was a Palace Eunuch and three of my older books Splendid Slippers, Ladder to the Clouds and Shanghai Girl Gets All Dressed Up. What a big smile this put on my face. I was so delighted I actually forgot to go to my box and pick up my mail!

Tecolote is truly an institution in Montecito. It’s where everyone buys their books. And where people gather to browse, run into their friends, chat with strangers and make new friends. The bookstore was owned by popular longtime Montecitan Peggy Dent for 17 years but in 2007 Peggy sold to three local men who love their books and like having a local bookstore, Herb Simon, Len Freedman and Marc Winkelman. But nothing really changed as Mary Sheldon who managed Tecolote for 15 years with Peggy not only stayed on but was taken in by the men as a part owner. You might say the men are really sort of silent partners of Mary’s because in Montecito Tecolote is Mary. And right there with her is her long time co-worker Penny McCall.

Mary and Tecolote are so much a part of Montecito. If a book signing party is held anywhere else, in a home or as happened last week with Molly Chappellet’s new book Longhouse the signing was held at historic Casa del Herrero as a benefit, Mary is right there selling the books with her always present happy smile. I’ve lost count of how many book signing’s I’ve done in my home for friends, always with Mary doing her selling thing in my Chinese dining room with the author sitting next to her busy signing.

About two months before there was any news of Oprah Winfrey buying the old Bacon estate in Montecito I knew something was brewing. Why? Because there was a line waiting to check out at Tecolote and I was standing in back of the legendary Oprah in the line. And doing what people do in bookstores I looked over her shoulder to see what she was buying. It was a book on interior design by famed British interior designer the late John Fowler. Why would Oprah be buying a book like this in Montecito? Her homes In Chicago and Hawaii we know have long been completed. She must be buying a Montecito home. And she did. By the Way, when an old friend stopped to chat with me while I was waiting in line I noticed Oprah Winfrey, who was turned sideways at that point, glance down and take note of the books I was buying. That’s what people do in bookstores you know!

Tomorrow I’m going to go and look at my Tecolote window again. Oh yes, and pick up two day’s mail! The last time I was this delighted with a window of my books it was a bit more complicated to see them. The store was Rizzoli Book Store in New York City on 57th Street near Fifth Avenue. They gave me their big front window for many weeks for Shanghai Girl Gets All Dressed Up. Did I go back to see that window? What do you think?

Beverley Jackson at Rizolli Bookstore

I flew to New York to see my book in Rizolli Bookstore 57th Street window (photo by Tony Fernandez)

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories Books
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