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Added by Pamela Greenwood

Lt Col Eugene Villaret

1888-1984
Born: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States
Died: Washington, District of Columbia, United States

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Life Story
  • Birth

  • Residence

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  • School

  • Residence: Cadet At West Point

  • Job

  • Military

  • Military: Age: 29

  • Marriage: Left Immediately For Europe After A Society Wedding With Many Bridesmaids At St.Margaret's Church In D.C. Her Parents Had Also Been Married There.

  • Military

  • Residence

  • Residence

  • Author

  • Departure: Abbie & The Children Are Also Returning To The States

  • Arrival

  • Residence

  • Emigration

  • Retirement

  • Divorce: This Was His Wife's Idea... She Wanted To Remarry

  • Divorce

  • Death

  • Burial

  • Title: Lt. Col.

  • Story: Emerine Steele Stratton Rees

    <p>On Feb. 9, 1922 Miss <u>Fannie S. Foulk</u> presented a paper entitled &quot;Our Own Literary Lights&quot; at the Aurora Women&#39;s Research Club in Aurora. She included this paragraph on <u>Emerine Steele Stratton Rees</u>. </p><p>&quot;Emerine Stratton Rees, who as her sister says, does not know how to advertise herself, has done a lot of literary work. I tried so hard to persuade her to tell me about it but usually got just a smile or a quiet refusal to talk about herself. From her friends I have learned these few things -- She has written for the Atlantic Monthly, Youth&#39;s Companion, New Orleans papers, Ladies Home Journal, Journal and Messenger, etc. A prize was offered by one of the periodicals for the best and shortest article or story using a given list of words. Mrs. Rees gained this prize and her story had literary merit as well as being concise.&quot; </p><p>Letter written from Emerine S. Rees to her first cousin twice removed <u>Frank Holman</u> in York, Alabama: </p><p>&quot;Reesholdan<br>&quot;December 24, 1926</p><p>&quot;Dear Frank, <br>&quot;Your letter of October 21st never reached me, and must have wandered off some place in the desert as other letters received at Valley Center after I left were forwarded to me here. </p><p>&quot;I was very anxious to stop over one train and see you all and was looking forward to that pleasure, but I found when I got my return ticket early in November at Las Angeles that there were only two stop overs on a one way ticket -- New Orleans and Louisville. I was greatly disappointed, more than I can tell you. </p><p>&quot;When I went on to California the 23 of July I had no idea how long I would have to stay as <u>Holman</u> (Rees) was in the hospital and I did not know what the outcome would be, so I bought a single ticket. I was there more than three months. When I left Holman was himself again and taking up the work on the ranch or I would not have come home. He has put out a walnut orchard and grapes, besides some oranges and figs. These should be a very good investment in a few years. One walnut man I talked to who lived near Holman, and whose trees were bearing, said he was asking a thousand dollars an acre for his ranch.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;I spent two or three days at Los Angeles with <u>Louis Curtis</u> before coming home. He built a beautiful house next to his sister, <u>Jennie Mathews</u> and he and his son, <u>Louis Jr.</u> live together.&nbsp; Although he lives in his wheel chair, he gets around very well. He has an elevator by the side of his bed room, which he can operate himself by a pulley, and from his room he can go up to the porches and bask in the sunshine and enjoy a wonderful view of the snow capped mountains away in the distance. He can wheel himself out on the pavement too. He has to be helped into the automobile, but when he is in no one enjoys riding more than Louis. It seems like he can ride forever. </p><p>&quot;<u>Nellie Curtis Short</u>, who died a few years ago and left all the sisters and brothers part of her two million dollars estate, gave<u> Louis</u> and <u>Jennie</u> a fine car one Christmas.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;Cousin <u>Jesse Curtis</u> death was quite a shock to the family coming so sudden. The fatal accident happened only a very short distance from his home. He as taking his usual after dinner walk in the evening when he was struck by an automobile. He was taken to the hospital where he died some hours later. He was a very remarkable man indeed -- 88 years old, enjoying life and meeting his friends One of the best known men I suppose in San Bernardino County, with a host of friends. He seemed to think nothing of traveling from the Pacific to the Atlantic and back again, tho his family thought it hardly prudent for a man of 88 to be going such a long distance alone. He had intended going to Philadelphia last fall, but I think the family persuaded him not to. </p><p>&quot;I enclose you a bit of pre-election advertising. We were all greatly interested in <u>Will&#39;s </u>election. In a letter from Louis today he says that Will was elected as Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of California -- a term of 12 years. He was far ahead of his two opponents -- 100,000 more than one and between 3,000 and 4,000 ahead of the other candidate. It was too&nbsp; bad that the old Judge could not have known of his son&#39;s success. He was justly very proud of him.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;I thank you and Cousin <u>Martha </u>very much indeed for wanting me to visit you and regret exceedingly that I could not stop in. </p><p>&quot;Tomorrow will be <u>Fannie Foulk&#39;s</u> birthday and one of the Baptist women called up to ask me to send her a card, as the members of the church are going to have a post card shower. I will gladly send a remembrance. I think a gift would be much more appropriate in acknowledgement of her splendid service all these years. </p><p>&quot;What about the ex-pastor. Well, it is not very pleasant writing, as far as I have heard since I came home. Probably Fannie may report conditions. Just now we are having supplies from the Louisville Seminary and hope to get seated comfortably soon. </p><p>&quot;<u>Abby</u> went to the city yesterday in the bus that I did and came back on the train with <u>Margaret</u>. </p><p>&quot;Remember me very kindly to all your family I suppose Cousin Martha is very busy getting ready for Christmas. I hope it will be a joyful time for you all. </p><p>Affectionately, Emerine S. Rees</p><p>Source: William Steele Holman II (letters in his safe in York, Alabama) </p><p>NB : Abby is Abby Holman who lives at Veraestau, the daughter of Jesse L. Holman Jr. Margaret is Margaret Vance Hamilton who lives at Veraestau in the Hamilton home. </p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; -----------------------------</p><p>&nbsp;This is a letter written by Emma to Professor Israel George Blake. It is surprising in her memories of Civil War soldiers... she was only 8 when the war ended. Professor Blake&#39;s book, based on his dissertation for the University of Indiana, is about William Steele Holman, Emerine&#39;s Uncle. &nbsp;There is also one chapter about Jesse Lynch Holman. Emerine is clearly interested in Jesse&#39;s Baptist interests. Mr. O&#39;Brine is the owner of Veraestau as of the time of this letter. </p><p style="margin: 0in -135.8pt 0pt 0.95in"><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">Lawrenceburg, Indiana R. 1</font></font></p><p style="margin: 0in -135.8pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">March 25, 1942</font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -135.8pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Dear Professor Blake, </font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -135.8pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">I am sorry indeed not to be able to hear your address at the Historical Society meeting Saturday. </font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -3.65pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Mr. O&rsquo;Brien kindly lent me his typed copy of your Holman book, and I intended to write you before this to tell you how very interesting I found it; how vividly the Civil War days seemed as I read about them again. I<span>&nbsp; </span>remember seeing the tired soldiers in their old blue uniforms, as they drifted into Aurora after the war was over, and how wonderful they seemed to us. </font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -3.65pt 0pt 0.95in"><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">You most certainly deserve a lot more letters than those awarded you by I.U. for your thesis, for such tedious, through, long research in the mass of old documents, newspapers, Congressional records, private papers and history. <span>&nbsp;</span></font></font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -3.65pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">I had little idea of the vital part and interest that my Uncle took during the Civil conflict, of his intense feeling about &ldquo;a house divided against itself&rdquo;. We did not see him often during those tragic days. He was a man of deep feeling and sympathies, as was his father before him. </font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font> <p style="margin: 0in -3.65pt 0pt 0.95in"><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">I trust that the Holmans both know of the great amount of labor, time and research you expended when writing your history, and that they appreciate your kindly dealing with them as we all do. <span>&nbsp;</span></font></font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">Looking over some old papers, I came across a copy of the <strong>Examiner</strong>, which I enclose. <span>&nbsp;</span>It is no special interest , only old, and gives a good outlook regarding Baptist affairs in 1883, quite different from its present form <strong>The Watchman Examiner. <span>&nbsp;</span><span>&nbsp;</span></strong></font></font><strong><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font></strong> <p style="margin: 0in -3.65pt 0pt 0.95in"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">As you may not have seen one of an old church letters of dismission I am enclosing two of ancient vintage in my Grandfather&rsquo;s collection of association letters, given me long ago&hellip; one of Brother Ebenezer Griffing and Catherine, his wife, dated 1819; that of Sister Polly Warren 1828. They may not mean anything to you at all, but I like to read them once in a while, and try to envision those old time Baptists whose letters I have, as they are received into the Church of their adoption. </font></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&nbsp;</font><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">Aurora is fortunate indeed in having you here, and being able to entertain the Historical Society. Hoping that the meeting will be most enjoyable and of much interest, I am Very Sincerely, E.S. Rees. </font></font><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; --------------------------<br>Emma also wrote to her half cousin, <u>Julia Vail</u> in 1943 relative to Julia&#39;s father, <u>Abraham Holman Vail</u>, and other family news relative to World War II:&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;Reesholden<br>&quot;March 9, 1943</p><p>&quot;My dear Julia: </p><p>&quot;I have looked high and low in hopes of finding some definite data to send you about you Father&#39;s Naval service, but in vain. I thought there was an old diary, kept when he was at Crawfordsville at college, that might have been continued when he&nbsp; came home and would have some account of his appointment to the Navy --- Uncle <u>William Holman</u> got this for him, but I can find no date. </p><p>&quot;In an old journal of my Mother&#39;s she mentioned his being in the Naval Academy in 1856 (sic) , expecting to graduate in November. Under date of January 1st 1862 she wrote that he was at Newport, Rhode Island in the academy. The academy, I think, was moved from Annapolis to Newport during the Civil War.</p><p>&quot;Holman was born April 27 1843 and died December 2nd 1907. He was a Lieut. Commander at the time of his death. </p><p>&quot;If I find any old letters referring to his service, time of entry in the Navy I can send them to you but I do not think I have any. </p><p>&quot;<u>William S. Holman</u> was not a Supreme Count Judge, but his father <u>Jesse L. Holman</u> was. William was our representative in Congress for more than 30 years. </p><p>&quot;I do not remember the length of service or the date of your Father&#39;s retirement. These must be in the Naval records at Washington, a record of them. Have you made any inquiries? </p><p>&quot;Aunt <u>Caroline (Stratton Valentine</u>) sent me a letter she had received from <u>Pem Holman Harvey</u> in which she told about her family. <u>Abbie&#39;s husband, Col. Villaret</u>, had just arrived home from Hawaii with his regiment, had had two posts offered to him -- one as Military attache to Turkey,&nbsp; in command of the Army Post at Key West.</p><p>&quot; Abbie&#39;s oldest boy (<u>Eugene</u>) 18, was at Military School. </p><p>&quot;Fred&#39;s (Harvey) two boys are in the service. The oldest 21 <u>(Holman</u>) has just left the West Coast for foreign service. The youngest (<u>Dean</u>) 19, is a cadet in aviation. Fred&#39;s daughter <u>(Barbara</u>) is married to a Lieut. in the aviation. </p><p>&quot;<u>Pem</u> was knitting scarfs for Abbie who is in all kinds of work and relief committees, and leads a very busy life. </p><p>&quot;A few days ago I had a letter from Mrs. La Mar, in Chicago and she said she had the pleasure of having Eleanor with her for Christmas, while Howard was looking after business connected with his paper. Eleanor is doing some kind of war work. But Mrs. La Mar did not say where Eleanor was living now, or anything else.&nbsp; So I hope that she has found something to help lighten her great sorrow.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;The La Mars are all engaged in some kind of war work and the Mother is quite busy with Red Cross activities. She is at the Hotel Hayes in Chicago, where she has lived for some years. </p><p>&quot;Please give the enclosed bit of&nbsp;diary to<u> Breckie</u>. I thought he would like to have his Grandfather&#39;s college Journal written so long ago. </p><p>&quot;You have never told me of the change in your home -- why you are alone. </p><p>&quot;I am sorry that I can&#39;t send you more helpful data, but if I find anything that I think you would want I can send it to you. </p><p>&quot;Lovingly, Aunt Emma</p><p>&quot;Aunt<u> Caroline</u> sent me several copies of the Free Lance Bulletin -- very interesting. Possibly your writer daughter might like to take it. 5C sample copy. I think Mildred Reids help would be a great assistance to a novice in writing. She might like to take advantage of it.&quot; </p><p><br>The following is a tribute to Emerine Stratton Rees written by a member of the Aurora Women&#39;s Research Club: </p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A TRIBUTE TO MRS. REES</p><p>&quot;The death of Mrs. Emerine Stratton Rees which occurred August 21, 1945 brings to the Aurora Woman&#39;s Research Club the loss of another member whose loyalty was shown even though she was unable for many years to be present at the meetings. </p><p>&quot;Her keen mind has brought to us many helpful articles which will be remembered by those who had the privilege of hearing them. </p><p>&quot;Interested in all phases of community life and uplift, she kept in touch with the worthwhile activities of all her friends and acquaintances. We shall never forget her springtime gift of the first daffodils from her garden which were always sent with a kindly wish for the success of the club and her appreciation of what it had meant to her. </p><p>&quot;There are many pleasant memories of Mrs. Rees in the minds of all our members. As a charter member, her name has been on our list since the organization of the club. Her plan for life was to do something for somebody every day. </p><p>&quot;We shall miss her unfailing interest in us and may we follow in her footsteps. &quot;</p><p><u>Ralph R. Rees</u> remembers clearing out her house when she died. &quot;There were a lot of book cases filled with books in her bed room. We donated most of the books to the Aurora Public Library. But I kept a few. The other day I was leafing through one and found the business card tucked in one. She was quite a woman... college educated ... very unusual for her time. She went to a women&#39;s college in Ohio... don&#39;t remember the name. &quot; March 26, 2006<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;</p>

  • Story: General Wood And Abigail Holman Harvey

    <p>Letter from General John S Wood at the Imperiel Hotel in Tokyo where he is Chief of Mission UNKRA ( United Nations Korean Reconstruction Administration) written on August 11, 1952, four years before they are married. Abbie is in Barcelona, Spain at the Hotel Majestic: </p><p>&quot;Ah, darling, of course I understand&nbsp; -- and I&#39;m grateful to Frances for her prompt reply to you. Beloved, I am something like the aucrent stalwart of your enclosure. I don&#39;t want to rest, at any rate. But I&#39;m terribly weary of useless struggle -- and of absence from you. <br>&nbsp;<br>&quot;You would be perfect to counsel travelers. Bears looking into when you go back. You are perfect for me in every way -- for this weary traveler trying to struggle back to you at the end of the long road. I love you, Abigail. </p><p>&quot;God keep her safe and well and bring me back to her -- to my lovely love. I miss her -- miss her. &nbsp;</p><p>Four days later the General writes to Abigail again from the same place: Tokyo, Aug. 15, 1962: </p><p>&quot;My Sweet love, </p><p>&quot;The Berlitz diploma came today. I think you are wonderful -- and if I could be any fonder of you than I am, then that&#39;s what I would be. You were so sweet to send me the document. Do you want it returned, darling, or shall I keep it until I see you. Oh God, let that be soon! I miss you more and more and love you always. Life is a dull business these days. J&#39;existe.&nbsp; Receipt (deposit slip) from Riggs came a day or so ago. Your John&nbsp; Always in my thoughts and heart I love you. &quot;</p><p>Grown stepson <u>Gene Villaret&#39;s</u>&nbsp; remembrance of the man his Mother married later in life. He writes to Pam Greenwood in August 2000: </p><p>&quot; Your delicate notation that Abby Harvey Villaret had a &quot;long standing friendship&quot; with &quot;Tiger Jack&quot; made me smile. What she had with him was a &quot;long-standing affair.&quot;&nbsp; A very long standing and very steamy affair that may have dated as far back as 1918. &quot;</p><p>&quot; As a high ranking officer Wood was able to fly home to the U.S. almost at will during the Second World War. My uncle <u>Gustave </u>and his sister <u>Marie </u>decided to pay a duty visit to Abby in mid-war. They arrived at the door of her seventh-floor suite at the Wardman Park during the early afternoon. In those relatively crime-free days, the apartments were all fitted with a solid inner door and a slatted outer door as well. One could leave the inner door ajar and a pleasant breeze would flow through the closed slatted door. Needless to add, sounds would also flow through. As they stood there my father&#39;s siblings heard Abby&#39;s voice in a rising crescendo of cries and endearments that told only too graphically what was in progress. The following day Gustave ascertained (at the War Department) that Wood was indeed in Washington. &quot;</p><p>&quot; J.S. Wood was a big bear of a man, assertive, kindly but firm and, as I later learned, parsimonious as well. He and his bride spent a few days with Louise and me after their marriage, at our little rural cottage outside Baltimore. One evening, having found that we shared a deep affinity for the music of Mozart, Wood and I were listening raptly to the forty-first symphony in our small living room when Abby, piqued at not being the center of attention, interrupted. &quot;Why don&#39;t we have a little liqueur,&quot; she broke in. &quot;I think Eugene must have some somewhere.&quot; </p><p>&quot; There was a momentary pause -- the adagio was just reaching its haunting conclusion. Then, &quot;Miss Abigail, &quot; said Major General John Shirley Wood, turning quietly to her, &quot;go to your room.&quot; My eyes must have nearly popped out of my head as I watched my mother say meekly, &quot;Yes, John,&quot; whereupon she crept quietly up the stairs and was heard from no more.&nbsp; I quite liked the man.&quot; <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;-------------------<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Abbie recalls her marriage to General Wood May 17, 1957: </p><p>&quot;I have to begin with my first marriage. It was very fashionable&nbsp; -- in Washington in St. Margaret&#39;s Church. I had eight bridesmaids all dressed in pastel shades of organdy with big organdy hats. And the military officers were the groomsmen, and it was a great social event in Washington. </p><p>&quot; Then we sailed for Paris and it was all very glamorous. Well, 30 years later, General Wood was out in Reno, Nevada to get a divorce, and to make it stick he thought we&#39;d better live there. So he called me up in Washington and said, &quot;Would you live in Reno?&quot; And, of course, I&#39;d live anywhere with him so I got on a plane and flew out to San Francisco and friends met me at the plane and they put me on this tiny little plane to come to Reno at a tiny little old-fashioned airport. And there was my bridegroom waiting for me. He drove me to a hotel called the Holiday Hotel, and as we walked in the noise was deafening. All you could hear was the sound of money dropping on the floor and tinkling around and these one-armed bandits were being worked all over the place. </p><p>&quot;Well, I spent the night there, and at 10 o&#39;clock in the morning, my bridegroom came for me with a boutonniere and a bouquet for me. We got into his fine old Cadillac and we began driving. It was a beautiful May morning and we drove and drove around and around the mountains. I thought we&#39;d never stop... until we got to a place and he pointed out -- he said, That&#39;s Boot Hill.&quot; Now, I&#39;m an Easterner.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I know nothing about Boot Hill. And we went on and on to the very top of this mountain, and there was an old ghost city named Virginia City. It had been a boom town when the silver mines were working. </p><p>&quot;So we got out and went to a little building that said &quot;City Hall,&quot; and we got a license to get married. The General asked &quot;Where is the Justice of the Peace?&quot; and the man said, &quot;She lives over there.&quot; We were both shocked by &quot;She&quot;. He said, &quot; Yes, she&#39;s very well known. She&#39;s called &quot;Marrying Matilda.&quot; </p><p>&quot; Well, we knocked on the door and she answered it. The General told her we wanted to get married. She looked startled and said, &quot;You must wait about an hour.&quot; </p><p>&quot; So in that hour we had to stroll up and down the muddy streets of this old ghost town with its saloons. We went into this saloon called &quot;The Bucket of Blood&quot; and had a sandwich there and a Coca Cola, and then went back to the Justice&#39;s house. This time she opened the door and she was in a very proper dark blue suit with with pin stripes and a necktie, and she asked us into her little parlor. We went in that little parlor, and she turned to me and said, &quot; Do you have a bridesmaid?&quot; I said, &quot;Oh, no -- I&#39;d just gotten off a plane from Washington...&quot; &quot;Oh,&quot; she said, &quot;don&#39;t worry. I&#39;ll attend to that.&quot;&nbsp; Then she turned to the General. &quot;Have you a best man?&quot; The General said, &quot; Why, no. We weren&#39;t prepared for all this.&quot; &quot;Well,&quot; she said, &quot;I&#39;ll take care of that.&quot; </p><p>&quot; So she disappeared for a while and then she came back and we sat down properly in the little parlor and chatted quietly. Pretty soon the door opened and this blousey little person came in, all awry -- very nice-- but very blousey. She had sent over to the casino and gotten a shill. Now a shill is a person that the casino pays to sit down and play. They give her the money and she always wins. So she&#39;s really a come-on. Pretty soon a crowd gets around her and one wonders why she&#39;s winning everything. So they start to play. And this was my bridesmaid -- this shill. </p><p>&quot; She was very nice and came up to me and said, &quot;Now, m&#39;am, I&#39;m your bridesmaid.&quot;&nbsp; Suddenly the door burst open and this figure about 7 ft. -12 strode in with a ten gallon hat and boots and spurs and kaiki trousers and jacket and a pistol holster with a pistol (pearl handled) sticking out, and on his jacket, prominently displayed, was a service star marked &quot;Sheriff&quot;. So he introduced himself and said, &quot;General, I&#39;m your best man.&quot; The General said, &quot;I&#39;m very glad to meet.&quot; At that the Justice-of-the Peace said, &quot;Will you please rise and we&#39;ll commence the ceremony.&quot; </p>

  • Story: Armand Villaret

    <p>Armand Villaret (NMI) born 8/11/1927 in Panama City, Panama died in July 1986 probably in Washington, DC. He graduated from George Washington University. He worked as a property adjuster or appraiser. He was in ill health much of his life and died at age 58.&nbsp; </p><p>Brother Gene writes: &quot;Short of digging into old trunks in storage I cannot find a good picture of Armand as an adult. He died in July of 1986, a few weeks short of his 59th anniversary, from complications incident to his loss of kidney function some four years earlier. A very bright person and far more family-conscious than I. He never married and lived much of his later life with one parent or the other.&quot; Armand&#39;s mother died in 1983 and his father in 1986. </p><p>&quot; Dad and I were a trifle annoyed that Mother, as recompense for housing him, turned much of his free time into service to her as a chauffeur. During most of his last decade he lived exclusively with Dad, who predeceased Armand by only two and a half years.&quot; (From Eugene Villaret in July 2000.) </p>

  • Story: Notes On Abigail Harvey's Marriages

    <p>Abbie&#39;s correspondence to her brother<u> Fred</u> regarding her divorce and marriage to General Wood, written August 20, 1952 from the Hotel Majestic, Barcelona, Spain.</p><p>&quot; My dear, dear brother,</p><p>&quot; First and foremost to avoid accusing myself of the very stigma of contemptibility of which you wrote I secured a divorce. This to me seemed the only decent thing to do. I could not remain married to one man if I cared for another. And next -- the first thing to do was to tell Eugene. This I did in Paris the first time I saw him after the divorce (April 1950) and informing him of my intent to remarry, when possible.</p><p>&quot;Until now our marriage could not have been realized. We waited for our children, especially his daughter to come of age. By the enclosed letters (never should other eyes have seen but yours) you will see our struggle to make possible our marriage. Money has been, is, the obstacle.&nbsp; I have nothing.&nbsp; John must provide it all. It is in my eyes right and just and proper that his wife (now 62) be not only provided for but well provided for.&nbsp; My conscience would not (indeed has not!) permitted me to do otherwise than refuse to consider marriage until she has been cared for. And that includes a home.&quot; Abby&nbsp; </p><p>But Abby&#39;s son Gene writes in 2000 about his mother: &quot;Abby&#39;s complaints against my father (Col. Eugene Villaret) were principally: </p><p>&quot; 1 His recalcitrance in the matter of allowing her more latitude in financial matters. He kept a tight reign on all household expenses and gave her what amounted to an allowance. I learned years later that early on in their marriage, with no restrictions at that time on her use of his income, Abby had taken to making large, uncontrollably frivolous expenditures, disregarding his exhortations and pleas, until finally he had fallen back on the practice of doling out funds for specific purposes. &quot;</p><p>Son Gene further recalls: &quot; Three of us, Armand (4), myself (7, perched on the jump seat) and our mother (32) seated in a taxicab in Paris in 1931, passing through the Champs Elysees. Destination: I don&#39;t remember. Mother was staring moodily out of the window, Arm and I somewhat subdued. It was a cloudy day. Suddenly she turned to me and with a raised upper lip, and out of a perfectly gray sky said, &quot;If I had my life to live over again, I would be an actress and never marry.&quot; I was too young to grasp or respond to this stunning off-the-wall outburst. Arm however, always more perceptive than I, had when I glanced at him a look of desolation on his face most unusual for him. Neither of us said anything. In fact none of us spoke for the duration of the trip. Later, how much later I don&#39;t know, but it was certainly years, the implications finally struck home, bringing with them a belated understanding of my little brother&#39;s reaction. &quot;</p><p>&quot;During his long absence throughout the war years, Dad sent Abby every month (she was living at that time in Washington, D.C. house to which the family had moved on our return from Yugoslavia in 1939) all but a very small sum that he retained of his salary. His personal expenses were of course mostly covered by the military, with the exception of toothpaste, cigarettes, socks and other such minor purchases. His letter to her (I have a number of them) stressed the need for frugality, what with tuitions for the distant boarding schools to which she had sent Armand and me, the annual income tax bite, wages for the maid/cook that Dad had found and retained for her, and the normal household and car expenses.&quot; </p><p>&quot;Living on her own throughout much of the war, Abby happily acquired an immense wardrobe of expensive clothes, threw any number of socialite parties at the house on 36th Street and at several downtown hotels and in late &#39;43 turned the house over to Col. and Mrs. Gustave Villaret (my father&#39;s brother and family), who arrived from the west coast on assignment to the War Department and in need of housing. Abby took a suite at the expensive Wardman Park Hotel on prestigious Connecticut Avenue, overlooking swank Rock Creek Park while G. Villaret took over responsibility for handling the months of past due rent payments as compensation to Abby for her offer of the house. &quot;</p><p>&quot; Dad returned from Europe in 1946 to find a financial debacle awaiting him in the form of enormous long-overdue bills from the three major department stores in Washington (Woodward and Lothrop alone being owed in the neighborhood of fourteen thousand 1946 dollars), overdue rental bills from the management of Wardman Park Hotel, fistfuls of unpaid liquor bills, several snide letters from the membership committee of the Army/Navy club, unpaid insurance premiums, loss of the long-sold Buick and the final blow: dire threats from the Internal Revenue Service for income taxes that for four years had never been paid. &quot;</p><p>&quot;Within three weeks of Dad&#39;s arrival in Washington Abby left for Europe where she stayed for several years. Pulling himself together, the man took a cheap flat in a private house off Wisconsin Avenue, brought Armand back from his boarding school, (I was then still in the Army) and began sending checks here, there and everywhere together with letters pleading for time. It took him until 1949 to dig himself out of debt by which time Abby, finally aware of the dire consequences of the family&#39;s financial straits, made some effort to live modestly between Geneva, Nice, Barcelona and Majorca. The unpleasantness of belt-tightening for her was somewhat alleviated when she met and took up with a well-to-do lesbian who shared her life off and on for a number of years.&quot;</p><p>&quot;It is noteworthy that, withal, Dad provided Abby financial support until her marriage to John Wood in the early &#39;60&#39;s.&quot;</p><p>&quot; 2 Abby never forgave Eugene for failing to become a General. Dad&#39;s problem in that regard was mostly in a stubborn refusal to play the political games necessary for promotion. Performance is the primary consideration in achieving advancement in all ranks up to and including full colonel. The jump from colonel to brigadier general and on up, however, requires recommendations from well-placed superiors. Recommendations are obtained through &quot;you rub my back and I&#39;ll rub yours&quot; associations, flattering one&#39;s superiors, accepting tasks whose accomplishment redounds to the credit of a superior and so on.&quot; </p><p>&quot; I came also rather to like my mother. Dad himself retained some feeling for her and almost never sought to belittle or condemn the woman to Arm and me. When the subject came up, he would wince and say; &quot;She&#39;s your mother after all, boys.&quot; </p><p>&quot; When all is said and done, Abby, as regards her place in the universe, was probably right. She would have been better served blending the life of an actress with that of the courtesan, a sort of bird of paradise flitting here and there about the world, relishing and fulfilled by life&#39;s multi-colored sensual rewards. If successful on the stage she might also have realized a much-desired social prominence, a goal she could never attain without money. Though I can&#39;t forget the great pain my dad suffered at her hands, I bear her no malice. After all, she was my mother.&quot; Gene Villaret, Aug. 2000.&nbsp; </p>

  • Story: Col. Eugene Villaret

    <p>Son Eugene writes: &quot;With regard to his military career, my dad commanded a heavy artillery battery in France in 1918 and was part of a major breakthrough that brought Germany to the peace table, ending World War I.&nbsp; His posts at Fort H.Q. Wright in Kansas (1922-23), Fisher&#39;s Island, Connecticut (1923-26), and the Panama Canal Zone (1926-28) were troop-command assignments. In 1927, following an extensive survey of the defenses in the Canal Zone, he produced and submitted to the Army War Department in Washington a monograph illustrating indisputably that the entire zone was highly vulnerable to attack by aircraft carrier. This document, ignored and buried in the military bureaucracy of the day, proved prophetic in December 1941, when the Japanese target might as easily have been Panama as Hawaii. In 1928 he was (punitively?) sent to the Army War College in Kansas for a six-month exposure to then current strategic policies of the U.S.&quot; </p><p>&quot;His diplomatic posts were as Assistant Military Attache to France (hence stationed in Paris) from 1929 to 1932; and full Military Attache to Yugoslavia, Bulgaria and Greece (stationed in Belgrade, Yugoslavia) from 1937 to just prior to the outbreak of war in 1939. </p><p>Of the three countries, it was thought that Bulgaria might harbor pro-German sentiments. Dad was therefore instructed to attend the 1938 Bulgarian military maneuvers. He returned from Sofia with the disturbing news that not only were there large numbers of German line officers and technicians present, but the entire Bulgarian military establishment appeared to be equipped with modern German materiel: fighter aircraft, battle tanks, trucks, half-tracks, self-propelled guns, the latest in 88-millimeter field artillery, infantry supplied submachine guns, grenades and gas masks. Their naval department was also said to be in (the) process of converting a freighter into a submarine supply ship; this in Bulgaria, a country that had no submarines. The in-depth report on these discoveries submitted by my father resulted in a surprising commendation from Washington. &quot;</p><p>&quot;During that conflict (WW II) he was sent to Hawaii in command of an anti-aircraft regiment, then to North Africa for intelligence liaison with French and Belgian forces there; finally to Europe and comparable assignment, centered in Brussels, Belgium. He retired in 1948 after thirty-six years of active service.&quot; </p><p>After years of Foreign Service Eugene was posted to Washington to attend the War College. He was later attached to the Citadel in Charleston, S.C. where he taught military science. Eugene lived in France for about 20 years after he retired from the service. He returned to the United States and died in Washington just a few&nbsp; months after his ex-wife in January 1984. </p>

  • Story: Abigail Holman Harvey

    <p>Abigail H. Harvey (Villaret, Wood) was born May 19, 1899 in Washington D.C.&nbsp; and died October 27, 1983 at Washington, D.C. at the age of 84. Although she was born and died in Washington, much of her life was spent elsewhere, in Europe. She was the third child of Pamela Dean Holman Harvey and Frederick Loviad Harvey Jr. </p><p>Abbie graduated from Western High School in Washington, D.C. She wrote about military training at Western in their first student publication at the age of 17. This is significant in that she later married two military men. </p><p>She was a debutante and a life long socialite. Abbie was easily the most flamboyant person in this genealogy. Hands down. </p><p>At the age of 21 she married Col. <u>Eugene Villaret</u> at St. Margaret&#39;s Cathedral in Washington, D.C., the same church where her parents had been married.&nbsp; He was first generation French American, a graduate of West Point and both President Dwight D. Eisenhower and General John Shirley Wood were in his cohort at West Point. </p><p>Shortly after their marriage in July 1920 the couple sailed to France on a troop ship. Abbie&#39;s letters to her mother, Pamela Dean Holman Harvey from Bulgaria and Paris just prior to WW II are of some historical note. She also wrote several amusing vignettes about this early period in her life. The couple had two sons who were partially raised in Europe, Panama and the United States. </p><p>After spending WW II in Washington DC Abbie left her husband and grown children and went to Europe to live. A letter from Abbie&#39;s mother in 1947 notes that Abbie is in Switzerland. She divorced Eugene Villaret and declared her intention to marry General Jack Wood. But General Wood was also married and had children and he was variously stationed in Korea and Japan after the War. They did not marry until he was out of the service and divorced in 1956. So Abbie was on her own for about 10 years before her second marriage. Husband number one, Eugene, supported her, although apparently not lavishly.&nbsp; </p><p>Abbie writes to her sister in law<u> Phoebe Guthrie</u> Harvey from the Hotel Majestic on the Paseo de Gracia, Barcelona on Sunday, Sept 21, 1951: </p><p>&quot;Dear Phoebe, </p><p>&quot;I read you last letter today on a terrace under a big parasol with the wide blue Mediterranean spread below me -- and the charming, busy little harbor of Barcelona filled with sailing craft and tramp steamers, cargo vessels, schooners and three units of the British fleet -- 2 destroyers and a small Flat Top, the &quot;Glory&quot;. I was up on a mountain -- one of the many that surround this beautiful port &quot;Montjeuich&quot; -- one goes up by funicular. </p><p>&quot;The sea sparkled and shimmered - the sun was warm and the breeze was sea borne. The hotel put us up a &quot;peek-neek&quot; lunch. Old Mrs. Kingsley (65 and teaches English at the Berlitz school) was my companion - a most intelligent person; a graduate of 2 universities &amp; a lawyer. Ah! if it could only have been my John to share the beauty of sea and sky and sun! Alas! He is in his lonely post half a world away -- eating his heart out as I am eating mine and enduring this grievous absence &amp; separation. </p><p>&quot;But I must now somehow find some courage -- gird my loins and meet the fray and strike before me -- I quail tho Phoebe - in half terror - yet I know I will face and meet my destiny. My own land - where my roots lie deep - </p><p>&quot;This beauty here can surely be matched in my America! Beauty of course lies in the eye of the beholder! </p><p>&quot;I sail on the steamship &quot;Saturnia&quot; of the Italian Line Sunday October 19 - land Oct 29 - a Wednesday. Cabin Class.&nbsp; I have written <u>Clara </u>that it is entirely up to my family with whom I shall spend the first days of my return. I told her you suggested that I go right on up to Tarry town with you and Fred from the boat and that if it suited her I would do so. I think Phoebe this would be very nice: viz.- I land Wednesday 29. May I come up and stay with you and Fred through Sun Nov. 2. Monday Nov. 3 morning I would then go into NY and meet Clara at the &quot;Devon&quot; and if agreeable, to her, I would stay with her through Friday Nov. 7 leaving either Friday night or Saturday morning for Washington so I can have the Saturday and Sunday with my boys. </p><p>&quot;My love to our Fred - and of course, all your family - every one. Affectionately, Abbie </p><p>NB Clara is <u>Clara Sylvia Guthrie Patterson</u>, Phoebe&#39;s sister. She is a wealthy family member who is remembered as being quite plain spoken. At one point when the family was gathered and having drinks Abbie was holding forth and kept referring to her husband, as &quot;General Wood&quot;. General Woods says such and such or General Woods prefers this over that ...&nbsp; Clara finally had had enough and said &quot;Oh, for goodness sakes Abbie, you can call his John. I always do!&quot;&nbsp; </p><p>And again Abbie writes to Phoebe from Philadelphia on Dec. 12, 1952: </p><p>&quot;Phoebe, dear, </p><p>&quot;You can know my gratitude to <u>Clara </u>when I tell you I have, through her thoughtful kindness, found safe harbor. </p><p>&quot;I am here with her friend, Emily Lippincott Webster -- most comfortable and warm in her home on the third floor where my room rent is adjusted to my purse and I have a bath next, &amp; all facilities for light cooking. She has been of ? itself to&nbsp; me. </p><p>&quot;I am beginning to help her a little (paid work) in her Society &quot;Debut&quot; and wedding consultant service and trying to find myself -- still in a confusion of mind - tho not of heart! But my heart grieves into grim anxiety over John there in the bitter cold of the Korean Winter. His last letter said &quot;Korean banners all out for Eisenhower -- as if it were the second coming of Christ; a pity he can&#39;t walk on the water -- they, poor devils expect it&quot;. But we both pray for some solution. </p><p>&quot;My boys and I found happiness again in our loving companionship. I am very proud of both. <u>Eugene</u> is working very hard to maintain his average of B plus and I am a bit concerned over his health for he looks pretty thin &amp; haggard. <u>Armand</u>, as dear and sweet as ever and nobly on his two feet. I hope &amp; pray I was instrumental in helping him secure a place in our Bank with Mr. Ireland -- I don&#39;t know the result yet. But he must find a place where there is every chance of advancement. </p><p>&quot;I was there three weeks. I saw Mr. O&#39;Brien with no result, very courteous, tho--- </p><p>&quot;Mrs Latham was my good angel as always. I had breakfast every single morning for 3 weeks with her. </p><p>&quot;We had Thanksgiving Dinner with <u>Margaret Harvey</u> -- a roaring open fire, a 24 lb Turkey and television. A happy family party. There were 9 at table. They have asked us all 3 again for Christmas dinner. I am really very fond of Margaret now. </p><p>&quot;Tell me your holiday plans <u>Phoebe</u> -- Did Florida or Bermuda work out? I am going to have a friend of mine here contact you if you want to take any trips; they run a travel bureau.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;With a great deal of love, Abbie<br>c/o Miss Lippincott Webster, 8004 Winston Road, Chestnut Hill, Phila 18, Pa. &quot;</p><p>NB Mr. O&#39;Brien was the wealthy Indianan who had purchased Veraestau. He lived in Washington D.C. It is not known why Abbie was meeting with him but it may have been in connection with finding a suitable job for Armand. Armand was never physically strong and never held what Abbie would have called a &quot;suitable&quot; job. </p><p>Cousin Margaret Harvey was the daughter of <u>Frederic W. Harvey</u>, Abbie&#39;s father&#39;s brother&#39;s son (Charles McDougal Harvey). This branch of the Harvey&#39;s were long-time Philadelphians. </p><p>Then on Dec. 27 there is this which suggests that all is not well in the family: </p><p>&quot;Dearest Phoebekins: </p><p>&quot;Your letter to me, addressed to the Lattas, has just arrived, with its most welcome enclosure. </p><p>&quot;I am grateful to you both for any help - but please tell that good brother of mine to knock the chip off his shoulder that he, for some reason, harbors for me -- little diggs about my splendid son benefiting from three years of war with his college GI education -- because I do not have the same admiration he has for Eisenhower -- that I know as little about the Supreme Court as he knows about a Spanish Corrida -- that I&#39;ve tried to be close and tender and loving -- and I&#39;m NEVER critical. </p><p>&quot;So please tell our Freddie that, as I am unaccustomed to such attacks - and never seek people with such tendencies, I shall have to steer clear of him&nbsp; till that chip is off -- but that I love him just the same. </p><p>&quot;But for that, Christmas would have been such a pleasant day! and should have been! </p><p>&quot;You, my dear, are a real angel!</p><p>&quot;But I am accustomed to gentleness and courtesy Phoebe -- quiet harmony and low-voiced discussions -- My friendships include men of the finest caliber,&nbsp; of distinguished minds - of quiet dignity -- to whom, may I say, my opinion is of value? </p><p>&quot;So then dear Phoebe - thank you both again -- </p><p>&quot;Let me know if and when you go South. Mrs. Webster has lovely rooms to rent and would be delighted to take you in on any of your trips north and south.&nbsp; <br>Affectionately, Abbie </p><p>&quot;P.S. I see, in your lovely letter, you wrote &quot;Christmas joy to you, Abbie&quot;!&nbsp; You know, Phoebe, thought of others is, to me, Christ&#39;s greatest lesson to us. You so kindly thought of me with a check and a sweet letter -- but Fred did not think of others feelings and sensibilities, on the greatest day of the Christian year in spite of the beautiful flowers.&quot; </p><p>January 19, 1953 Abbie again writes to her sister in law Phoebe Guthrie Harvey from Philadelphia: </p><p>&quot;Very dear, Patient, Long Suffering Phoebe! </p><p>&quot;I was delighted to get your cards from first Charleston and then Daytona Beach and to know that you and Fred were getting some much-needed rest and sun. </p><p>&quot;But Phoebekins - with all due respect to Clara&#39;s friend here Emily Lippencott Webster -- and with all gratitude for her great kindness in &quot;taking me in&quot; so to speak, and giving me shelter at a moment when I desperately needed it &amp; at a price which I could pay, I simply cannot BEAR the BOREDOM of this stuffy atmosphere! I was NEVER born for the suburban life and my whole life has been in the opposite direction. </p><p>&quot;So I am making provisional plans to leave - tentative plans include leaving here February first - stopping off in Washington for a week or so with Margaret Harvey, whom I have grown quite fond of -- seeing my boys -- and arriving in Charleston Feb. 15. Then my friends the Holts, they have engaged for me a small room on Tradd Street at ten dollars a week (semi private bath)&nbsp; -- &amp; meals at Mrs. Rhetts Tea Room &quot;Old Ironside&quot; just next door. There I can have sun and live. To me, this Big City Life is a horror -- a mad rush and dash, getting you absolutely no where.&nbsp; I intend to do some writing. Is there any chance of Fred and I coming together before I leave for a discussion on this? I want a market for my product - and a guide -- I know I have a lot to sell.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;In character &amp; by nature, I am not creative. I am a recorder -- a reporter of events, scenes, emotions, and at times an interpreter, in essence of the theater. So my writing could not be original or creative -- but like Fred&#39;s, reportorial. To this end, I must be given &quot;subjects&quot; upon which to write -- I can draw on my experience to work them.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;I would greatly appreciate advice on this from Fred. In Washington can Fred again lead me to the right person? I do need help in this form. </p><p>&quot;Will you be coming down to see<u> Barbara (Harvey Greenwood</u>) soon?&nbsp; I have not yet written to <u>Clara</u> (Guthrie Patterson) of my project -- I do not feel she will altogether approve!! She thinks I like NY because I love it for a few days visit -- but to live there is impossible for my temperament. Love, ever, Abbie </p><p>&quot;Probably stay in Charleston until June then go to Washington for the graduation of my dear son <u>Eugene</u> from the University of Maryland then take the first plane to Spain! Will Fred please tell me where I address Life magazine? I should like to be their Spanish correspondent... &quot; </p><p>NB There is an enclosed newspaper clipping noting that Life Magazine has just started publishing a Spanish language edition to be distributed in Spain. Barbara is Barbara Holman Harvey Greenwood who lives in the Philadelphia suburb of Huntingdon Valley. She is Phoebe&#39;s step daughter. Brother Fred is of course a newspaperman and writing for the Readers Digest at this point in his career. </p><p>Two days later on January 21, 1953 Abbie writes to her brother from Philadelphia: </p><p>&quot;Dear <u>Fred,</u> </p><p>&quot;Life is filled with obligations and duties -- some, of course, are pleasant, thank Heaven. Others are the quintessence of sadness. This moment of my life is one of uncertainty. As Francois Mauriac reminds me &quot;Character is Destiny&quot; . To the end that our decisions form the pattern of our lives, no truer than that was ever expressed! </p><p>&quot;I am making decisions -- alone. Mine is a lonely way. </p><p>&quot;I have just made a minor decision; to go to Charleston. </p><p>&quot;This way of life is not my way. It is not living. I am stifling here in the stagnant atmosphere of this dreary suburb (Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania).&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;Yet again --- the rush of New York repels me. </p><p>&quot;I shall stop over in Washington and here I have asked Phoebe to ask you for some names to give me in the writing world -- whether journalism or other wise. I don&#39;t know why I should trouble Phoebe with a question intended for you. Please then let me know of a contact -- enable me to discuss writing -- objective writing -- as I wrote Phoebe -- mine is not a creative mind.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;Washington to me is one long nightmare. All the ghosts of the past over whelm me there but I go to see my sons. </p><p>&quot;Here is the time and the place to ask you to attend to our Mother&#39;s grave.&nbsp; It is in a disreputable state; shabby - neglected - unmarked - Can you think of our magnificent Mother with an UN marked grave? As you know, I cannot exist - and spend a dollar on outside things - my five dollars a day does not permit it - (my alimony represents one third of Eugene&#39;s income -- he receives four hundred and fifty dollars a month -- plus from his investments. Can you imagine Mrs. Guthrie in an unmarked grave? Would you permit it? It hurts me to think of Mothers loneliness and neglect. I know you will attend to it, Fred. It cannot remain so -- if we are to feel right about it. Eugene attended to his mother&#39;s grave.&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;As to my own , there is one place left in the &quot;lot&quot; but I cannot locate the Deed to Oak Hill cemetery-- after Mother&#39;s funeral, it disappeared. Have you it, by any chance? One place is left for me. When you contact Oak Hill will you ask about this for me, please?&nbsp; And Fred, when I die -- I wish to be cremated. If this is to be your duty, will you see to it? </p><p>&quot;I feel all our meetings have been so unsatisfactory since my return. We have never talked heart to heart as I would wish as brother to close sister. You were either trying to meet a &quot;dead-line&quot; or recovering from one -- and Phoebe (bless her) in her love for you, has always tried to &quot;protect&quot; you from any call on you or drain on you.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;But that isn&#39;t facing life&nbsp; --is it? My life and its problems is of course for me to meet. Head on. And I do. No one helps me with the decisions I must make and make alone. But it is hard not to be like (Illegible water damage) </p><p>&quot;If our Mother were with me tonight I know she would express her always spoken satisfaction in your beautiful choice of a real wife and helpmate. Phoebe is a lovely angel. She shields you from every unlovely or unhappy thought -- you live in a make believe world -- you two living for each other. Which is right. I wish to God I had such a companion! Good night -- and please write. Lovingly, Abbie &quot;&nbsp; </p><p>NB<u> Fred</u> never did &quot;attend to his mother&#39;s grave&quot; and it is still unmarked in 2006 in Oak Hill Cemetery. Abbie was cremated but her ashes were scattered, at her request, at West Point where her second husband&#39;s ashes had also been scattered. Mrs. Guthrie was Phoebe&#39;s mother. </p><p>Abbie divorced Eugene Villaret to marry Major General John Shirley Wood (Tiger Jack) with whom she had had a &quot;long-standing friendship.&quot; They married finally in the summer of 1957. He died in 1966. </p><p>Abbie and her sister in law Phoebe Guthrie Harvey visited often in Charleston and spent some summers at Eaglesmere, Penna. Abbie traveled frequently to Palma, Spain and Montreux, Switzerland in later years. As his health declined her son Armand lived with her. She was concerned about his welfare after her death. </p><p>In 1983 Abbie wrote to her niece Barbara Holman Harvey Greenwood:</p><p>&nbsp;&quot; <u>Barbara </u>do not grieve or be saddened when I tell you that Friday the Doctors confirmed I have approximately 6 months to a year to live. I am 83- and there&#39;s a time to live - and a time to go - my life has had its full share of sorrows, of joys-- I only regret leaving those I love - Remember me as I was - I loved life - it sparkles like wine in my veins - Fred was the same except at the last, he seemed more resigned. Perhaps I shall see you again -- God willing. Aunt Abbie. &quot; </p>

  • Story: Pamela Dean Holman

    <p>Pamela Dean Holman (Harvey) b. 7/8/1861 at Veraestau, Died ca. April 30, 1949 in Washington, D.C. Eighth child of <u>William Steele Holman</u> and <u>Abigail Knapp Holman</u>. Called &quot;Pem&quot;. Named for her mother&#39;s sister, <u>Pamela Knapp</u> (Dean) who married the Industrialist <u>Thompson Dean</u>. </p><p>Pem attended high school in Aurora, Indiana and finishing school in Cincinnati, Ohio where her Aunt <u>Pamela Dean</u> lived.&nbsp; As a young woman she was a sought after guest at Washington social events and often assisted President Grover Cleveland&#39;s wife in entertaining at the White House. Pem&#39;s&nbsp; daughter <u>Abigail</u> notes that &quot; Mother was like a sister to Mrs. Grover Cleveland and for years they had their weekly game of cribbage. Mrs. Cleveland always asked my beautiful mother to preside at the punchbowl at all White House receptions. &quot;</p><p>Pem married April 8, 1889 to Frederick Loviad Harvey Jr. Pem was 28 when she married government attorney Fred who was 32.</p><p>&quot;Auntie&quot; Dean <u>(Pamela Knapp Dean</u>) and her husband <u>Thompson Dean</u> gave Pem and her new husband a home in Washington DC on the corner of Florida and &quot;R&quot; Street. This is a lovely old section of Georgetown and the house was near to what would become President Woodrow Wilson&#39;s home. Nearby lived Robert Lincoln, President Lincoln&#39;s son. There were cobbled streets and great old trees lining the streets. This was a peaceful neighborhood of Washington where overdressed children could play. </p><p>The house had what was then called an &quot;English basement&quot;, i.e. an exposed half story basement which housed the coal furnace. The house faced on Florida Avenue but had a round turret that faced on &quot;R&quot; street. A visitor entered the house by way of outside stairs which let to the entranceway and the first floor kitchen and dining room. One then climbed the interior stairs to the 2nd floor drawing room. Bedrooms were on the third and fourth floors. Here Pem had three children and lost her first child, daughter Helen, as an infant. Son Frederick and daughter Abigail were raised in this house and after her son&#39;s marriage and divorce to Dorothy Marie Beylor Dorothy and her infant child Barbara lived there while Dorothy went to secretarial school so she could support herself and her child.&nbsp; Across the street on the cate-corner lived Pem&#39;s sister Rhoda Holman Fletcher.&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>Pem was often left with the children as her husband was a government attorney who represented the various Indian tribes and he often traveled.&nbsp; </p><p>She was later a widow for 26 years. During that time she traveled to visit her daughter in the various foreign capitals where <u>Abbie </u>and her family were stationed. She is known to have visited with the <u>Villaret family</u> in both Europe and Panama.&nbsp; For many of these years she lived at the Gordon Hotel, a residential hotel in Wasington where her sister Rhoda also had an apartment. </p><p>Letter written November 11, 1947 from the Gordon Hotel to her daughter in law,<u> Phoebe Guthrie Harvey</u>: </p><p>&quot;Dearest <u>Phoebe, <br></u>I know not whether you owe me a letter or that I owe you one -- but I feel like writing to you and hearing from you. I so enjoyed hearing from Fred and answered at once. I hope you are at home today (Armistice Day) and Fred &amp; you are enjoying the luxury and beauty of your home. </p><p>&quot;You can&#39;t know the real pleasure and satisfaction it is to me that you both are there in your old home. I was always uneasy about that dank and dark woods by 2700, and the drive through them. I could see lurking forms behind the lilies. As much as I miss you in my life, I am glad you are there. </p><p>&quot;Everything is serene here, people I have known in bygone years keep turning up, two are here now. I am crocheting evenings as we sit in the Lobby and I enjoy that. A famous Doctor has said that knitting and crocheting were good for women, as they tended to quiet and comfort the nerves. I find it so. </p><p>&quot;Mr. John Denson &amp; wife were here a few evenings ago, and he seemed very much pleased when I gave him <u>Fred&#39;s</u> message and he said to give Fred his best regards and hoped that you liked the change you had made (moving to Stamford.) Mrs. Denson ... thought her most charming. </p><p>&quot;I have not heard from (daughter) <u>Abbie </u>for several weeks. I wrote to her that <u>Eugene </u>approved entirely of her desire to stay in Switzerland and said I did also as there was nothing to bring her back, as Eugene and the boys were well fixed, and getting along all right. The last year she was so disconcerted and tragic. I was anything but happy when with her. So if she is well and happy I think it best for her to stay. But I sometimes wonder if I will ever see her again. </p><p>&quot;She says she would like to go with the work of helping the children of Europe (poor things)&nbsp; but the severe head aches she has prevents her undertaking any regular work. </p><p>&quot;I loved hearing from your Mother (<u>Mrs. Norman Guthrie</u>) -- and hope she will continue to write to me. I think it a great satisfaction to her that you and Fred are in her house. I am wondering how you like the new tenant. Fred gave me a description of your beautiful library with its hundreds of works, and the staircase leading up to your room so I can almost picture you both sitting there. </p><p>&quot;I think it fine that you get home from your school so early -- so you really have a great deal of time at home and can enjoy it. </p><p>&quot;<u>Eugene</u> told me that he went out west to Franklin Indiana to see for himself the conditions there and he said the fanatical Baptist father would have broken any marriage &amp; was determined to break up this one -- and succeeded. Poor Gene is not&nbsp; of the complaining kind but said &quot; I have been through the H--- of a time.&quot; He said he enjoyed the hitch-hiking from Indiana. &quot;Wasn&#39;t so bad&quot; he said. &quot;Had many a lift along the road.&quot; Love to both, Gram&quot; </p><p>PS &quot;I am getting better and better in health. I am afraid I will live to be a hundred. Am taking Dr. Wyrikoops medicinals.&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>NB Son and daughter in law Fred and Phoebe have just moved from 2700 Rodman Place in Washington to live with Phoebe&#39;s parents in Stamford, Connecticut. Phoebe is teaching at the Dobbs Ferry School for Girls there. Daughter Abbie has left her husband and children and is living in Switzerland. Eugene, daughter Abbie&#39;s husband,&nbsp; has gone to Franklin Indiana to visit with his son Eugene who is attending college there and has recently married and divorced a young woman at the college. Pem is 86 at this writing. </p><p>Pamela had a life long interest in government, history and politics, keeping up with the latest developments as long as she lived. On her deathbed she converted from the Episcopal faith to the Roman Catholic faith. Her letters, principally to her daughter Abbie, are at Lilly Library in Bloomington, Indiana.&nbsp; </p><p>Pamela Dean Holman Harvey died in Washington at the age of 87.&nbsp; She is buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Washington, D.C. near Rock Creek although her wishes were to have been buried in Aurora, Indiana with the rest of her Holman family. Instead she is buried with her in laws, the Harvey family.&nbsp; </p><p>Pamela Dean Holman Harvey is known to have said, &quot;Every woman ought to have a little money of her own&quot;. She also said, &quot;No woman should learn to trim her own hat&quot;&nbsp;&nbsp; (presumably because she would then have to). She told her granddaughter to &quot;always remember who you are&quot; ---&nbsp; the great granddaughter of the Honorable William Steele Holman. She was always very proud of the fact that her long time Congressman Father had died a &quot;poor man&quot;. It proved his integrity. </p><p>Memories of her first grandaughter <u>Barbara Holman Harvey Greenwood</u>:&nbsp;&quot;A lady of great dignity and distinction. As a very young child Barbara went to the Capital in Washington with Pem. The doorman bowed very deferentially to her and greeted her by name.&nbsp;&nbsp;She was recognized by many older, senior members of the House and Senate as well as by the older guards. </p><p>Barbara remembers that&nbsp;Pem enjoyed sitting in the galleries and following the debates. She also remembers&nbsp; Pem discussing congressional matters with Aunt <u>Rhoda,</u> her son and others. She had a beautiful speaking voice and an excellent vocabulary -- always impressing upon Barbara (even then)&nbsp;the importance of&nbsp;precision in choice of words.&nbsp;&nbsp;She was warm and kind and kept a porcelain crook of cookies in her room at the Gordon Hotel for Barbara when she came to visit. She was not however a cookie&nbsp;baking grandmother. It is doubtful she ever cooked in her life. Grandmother was a dignified, graceful and formal&nbsp;lady. </p><p>&quot;Barbara went frequently to the Florida Avenue house for Sunday dinner. There was always a cook and maid to serve. On rainy days she got to play with the poker chip box and chips. On fine days Grandfather <u>(Frederick Loviad Harvey</u>) loved to take Barbara to the zoo. He wore spats and took his walking cane. It was wonderful to see him pick up the trash, including a banana peel one day with his cane and deposit it in the waste basket. We looked at all the animals but Barbara&#39;s favorites were the swans. The pleased grandfather because he thought it was exactly the appropriate animal for a little girl to choose as her favorite.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot;Pem didn&#39;t say&nbsp; much about her son-- never anthing negative. While Barbara was aware that Pem was disappointed about her son, <u>Fred L. Harvey, Jr</u>. it was not thru anything that was ever said-- family loyalty and &quot;keeping up appearances&quot; were so important to her that she would have been unable to say anything negative or critical of anyone in the family. </p><p>&quot;It is speculated that Pem&#39;s marriage to Fred L. Harvey was arranged since it came later in her life than was common in the day. </p><p><u>&quot;Frederick Loviad Harvey, &nbsp;Sr</u>. -- he was a kind man. We know that he paid for Dorothy <u>Marie Beylor Harvey</u> (Fred L. Harvey Jr.&#39;s first wife) to get secretarial training after the divorce. He kept this a secrete from his&nbsp;wife&nbsp;who did not know of it til after his death. It is also speculated that he paid Marie and little Barbara&#39;s living expenses until Marie was able to take the Civil Service Exam and get a good job with the Internal Revenue Service. Marie worked at the IRS through the 1920&#39;s and 1930&#39;s (through the depression) until she died of a stroke in 1944. &nbsp;</p><p><u>&quot;Marie</u> talked a lot about her retirement and how nice it would be to have some free time. She wanted to have a garden and take her as yet non existent grand children to the shore to play with sand pails and shovels. After she died (from KItty Heald) it was noted that she might well have been very unhappy with so much leisure time... </p><p>&quot;Barbara thoght <u>Frederick Loviad Harvey, Sr. </u>&nbsp;was a paragon of all virtues because of his interest in her. He spent a lot of time playing with and talking to her when he was with her. He died when Barbara was 5. Though she was only five she felt his loss severely. When she was 7 she cried one night at the Lucia Gale Barber School (small boarding school on Columbia Road in Washington) in bed and a kindly housemother sat down to comfort her and asked what was&nbsp;troubling the little girl. Barbara told her that she missed her grandfather. The housemother explained that grandfather was all right -- Barbara was crying for herself not for him. She had always thought &nbsp;something had happend to him -- not her. </p><p>&quot;Fred Jr. used to talk about loving his father. He probably felt closer to his father than to his mother.&quot; </p><p>As reflected in her obituary, &nbsp;there was a friendly rivalry in the family between the respective contributions of the Holmans and&nbsp;the Harveys. <br>&nbsp; <br>Obituary by her son <u>Frederick Holman Harvey</u></p><p>&quot; Mrs. Pamela Dean Harvey, 87, one of the capital&#39;s oldest residents, died yesterday at Mrs. Meadows&#39; Nursing Home, 1709 Lamont Street, N.W. She had lived at the Gordon Hotel, 916 16th Street, N.W. for nearly a quarter of a century. Death was due to the infirmities of age.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot; Mrs. Harvey, born Pamela Dean Holman, made her debut here during the Administration of President Hayes in 1879, and was prominent in the brilliant society of Washington during the decade of the &quot;eighties and the early nineties&quot; . She married Frederick Loviad Harvey, well-known Washington attorney, later long identified with civic affairs here and a member of the Washington National Monument Society, the Columbia Historical Society, and the Oldest Inhabitants Association. He died in 1923. </p><p>&quot; Mrs. Harvey was born during the first year of the Civil War at &quot;Veraestau&quot;, the Holman ancestral homestead over looking the Ohio River at Aurora, Indiana. Educated in Indiana schools, she later attended finishing school in Cincinnati. Early photographs reveal her as a young woman of exceptional beauty. </p><p>&quot; Her grandfather, <u>Hon. Jesse Lynch Holman</u>, had read law under the tutelage of Henry Clay in Kentucky. When he married the daughter of Kentucky&#39;s Governor Masterson the state legislature, as a wedding gift, presented the young couple with a grant of land across the Ohio River in the unsurveyed wilderness which is now southeastern Indiana. Here, Jesse Lynch Holman founded, &quot;Veraestau&quot;, a name he devised from the Latin roots of spring, summer, autumn. Opposed to slavery even in that early day, he soon freed a numerous family of slaves, another wedding present. Later, he drafted Indiana&#39;s state constitution and became a justice of the state supreme bench. </p><p>&quot; Mrs. Harvey&#39;s father, Hon. William Steele Holman, served in the national Congress from Aurora district for 30 years and as chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, became popularly known as the &quot;Watchdog of the Treasury.&quot;&nbsp; Although of Virginia and Kentucky lineage, he supported Lincoln against secession and became a Union Democrat. In the &quot;Eighties&quot;, he narrowly missed the Democratic nomination for the Presidency. He died as &quot;The Father of the House of Representatives&quot; in 1897.</p><p>&quot; Mrs. Harvey was a woman of wide literary accomplishments, and until the end took an active interest in national affairs. She leaves a daughter, Mrs. Eugene Villaret, of Washington; a son, Frederick Holman Harvey, of Stamford Conn.; four grand-children, and two great grandchildren. </p><p>&quot; Services will be held at Gawler&#39;s funeral chapel, 1756 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W. Internment, at Oak Hill Cemetery, Georgetown, will be private.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;Obituary in The Washington Post, Sunday, May 1, 1949</p><p>&quot; Harvey, Pamela Dean, On Saturday, April 30, 1949 Pamela Dean Harvey wife of the late Frederick Loviad Harvey and mother of F. Holman Harvey and Mrs. Eugene Villaret. Friends may call at Gawler&#39;s Chapel, 1756 Pa. Avenue, NW where services will be held on Monday May 2 at 3:30 P.M. Internment private.&nbsp; </p><p>&quot; Mrs. Pamela Dean Harvey, 87, social leader of Washington society during the latter part of the last century died yesterday at Mrs. Meadows&#39; Nursing Home, 1709 Lamont St. NW. </p><p>&quot; The former Pamela Dean Holman, she made her debut here during the administration of President Hayes and immediately became a part of the city&#39;s social life. For nearly 25 years she had lived at the Gordon Hotel, 916 16th Street, NW. </p><p>&quot; Her husband was Frederick Loviad Harvey, attorney and civic leader. He was a member of the Washington National&nbsp; Monument Society, the Columbia Historical Society and the Association of Oldest Inhabitants. He died in 1923. </p><p>&quot; Mrs. Harvey was born during the first year of the Civil War at the Holman ancestral home Veraestau, near Aurora, Indiana. She was educated in Indiana schools and at Cincinnati. &quot; She was the granddaughter of Jesse Lynch Holman, son-in-law of Kentucky&#39;s Governor Masterson, and the daughter of Representative William Steele Holman who served the Aurora District in Congress for 30 years. Her father, although of Virginia and Kentucky lineage, supported Lincoln against secession and became a Union Democrat. In the 80&#39;s he was prominently mentioned for the presidency. A woman of many activities, Mrs. Harvey retained her interest in national affairs and literary matters all of her life. </p>

 
 
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