I’ll be frank. I do not like everyone. For example I strongly dislike Josef Mengele, a Nazi medical doctor who tied a Jew’s legs together while she was giving birth so as to see the medical results.
I also do not like Marjorie M. She was the wealthiest woman in the world when I was a child. She sent someone across the huge lake in her customary purple livery costume to my father by fancy motorboat. He, my father, was covered in mud in a pit that he was manually turning into a cesspool and the male servant showed up in a pretty purple costume demanding my father with a dismissive tone of voice.
He had a note to deliver to my Dad from the lady, who had a permanent house staff of forty-two for just herself. My father, when the servant protested to hand it over to a dirty fool in a mud pit, held out his hand and said, I am Earl, the intended recipient.
In shock, the servant handed it over directly into the mud to my father’s filthy hand. Ha-ha!
She was curious about the new neighbors on the lake and wanted to meet my parents. Now let’s get real: This is a woman who fired her chief clothes dresser for not bringing one of her favorite gowns up from her Washington, DC or her Palm Beach home. Then she sent her empty jet back to fetch it with only her pilot and the secondary dresser on board.
Coo-coo — she had the largest private collection of native American art and Tsarist jewels in the world and always married for money — to consolidate fortunes. Her doggy slept in a 17th century French prince’s cradle and she had her silverware meticulously measured to the millimeter for table parties according to Emily Post standards. It took hours to undertake. (Mad brained!)
She’d sit on a raised platform on some sort of throne seat at her parties and summon you via a servant if she wanted a little chat with you. Then she’d dismiss you with a raise of the hand when done. So special … not!
Her servants all knew your names. She had them memorize paired faces and names before parties. Then you’d be personally greeted upon arrival.
Her empty jet came up in winter to the Adirondacks, NY, USA to get lemon ice cream and she opened the dairy, usually open only in the summer, to provide it for her.
The dairymen laughed. How weird to cater to her wishes mid-winter, but for a tremendous sum of money since her guests apparently needed to clean their palates between courses with this lemon concoction!
She spent hundreds of thousands of dollars for maintaining her properties each year. She was meticulous about doing well for herself.
She had a telephone room and charged you for use. So much for her wealth sucked into herself ever more. Her financial grip was tight.
My six year old brother saw a native necklace that he wanted for our mother in one of her cases. It said 2.56 or something like that near the necklace. It had been categorized.
He brazenly went up to her and said that all that he had was two dollars, not $2.56 and wanted it for his mum. Slightly amused, she gave him a little smile with a quickly followed withering look as she glanced away in disgust at his request.
I just can’t see eye to eye with people like her. We’re just too far a part as if from different planets. She’s certainly not from mine.
E. O. Wilson told me once, many years ago that the only way forward is to educate people. Yes, let’s try to educate ding-dongs like her. They need it especially!
Sally Dugman is a writer in MA, USA.