Decca, p.38
Decca, page 38
Earlier, Mr. Ralph Graves (Life editor) called up. Now, let’s see if this sounds to you as sinister as it did to me: He was v. friendly (how are you, did you get any sleep, etc). So I told him about the Chief Fire Hydrant coming round and his line of questioning (same thing I told you). Said Mr. Graves, “well isn’t that fantastic. … By the way, what did bring you to Montgomery just at that time? Had you been there for any length of time before all the incidents?”; etc. In other words, the same line of questioning as the fire hydrant. Interspersed, of course, with aren’t we lucky you happened to be in Montgomery just when all this was happening, and not in some other town. He then casually added they were about to close my other story today, but pulled it out, because it wouldn’t do to have a funny, light piece by me just at the same time as this other, grim piece; they’d use the tourist thing later. Suddenly, I can see all going down the drain. Oh, I’m so unhappy, and homesick, and longing to get out of this Claude Cuckoo Land as Va. would probably call it. The article is going v. badly. No committee in this town, worst luck. If only you were here.
Your loving Decca
To Constancia Romilly
Montgomery
May 25, 1961
Darling Dinkdonk,
… So sorry not to have written, but life here is positively kaleidoscopic. …
I spoke to Bob last night, after you called. The poor boy is vastly overworked, which is why he never writes, but I made him promise to write to you. You must feel you haven’t got any parents left, what with me not having time to write and Bob being one of Nature’s non-writers. …
The most interesting development of this whole thing concerns a couple called Frederick and Anna Gach. Don’t know if NY papers have carried their story. She is a typical Alabamian, 39 years old, graduate of Ala. university (and law school, but doesn’t practice law), works (or rather, worked) as typesetter for Montgomery Advertiser. These two were by utterest chance at the Greyhound station Saturday. They saw a Negro being horribly beaten, just a few feet from them. They shouted to the crowd to stop it, tried to intervene. They shouted to a nearby cop, who was standing with back to incident, to do something. The cop did; he arrested the Gaches. They have been found guilty of disturbing the peace and failing to obey an officer, fined $300. She was immediately fired from her job. He will most likely be expelled from nearby Auburn College, where he is a student. Cliff is taking their case on appeal. I’m trying to raise a lot of $$$ for their defence. If you possibly have time, do call a few people and ask them to send some money down. No organizations… as that would do more harm than good to their cause, just individual contribs. are needed. I’m going to try to get some big nat’l medium to publicize the case…
Bob is trying to raise some in Calif, too. Their bail has been raised to $600 and the local bail bondsman refuses bond. Then, there’s the matter of Cliff’s fee. I should say a good $1,000 will be needed before all this is over…. In my opinion, this case of Mr. and Mrs. Gach is the most important of all, as it points up the utter living horror down here—but also goes to show there are some who will try to do the right thing. As Cliff says, they were fined for being the only ones in that crowd to show any decency. They have absolutely no liberal connexions here, just ordinary folks. So do try to do something about it. Eleanor Fried121 might call some people too, don’t you think? Get them to send nice large sums if possible.
There’s masses more to tell, but no time to write more.
I love you dearly, good little Donk.
I’m so homesick, you can’t imagine. All I long for is for us all to be together at home in Calif. again one of these days. …
Your very fond Mamma
LATE NEWS FLASH: MY ARTICLE TAKEN BY LIFE, WILL BE IN NEXT WEEK’S ISSUE, FULL ACCOUNT OF LAST SUNDAY’S MASS MEETING!!!122
To Robert Treuhaft Atlanta
May 29, 1961
Darling Bob,
The absolute bliss of hotels. I really was a bit done in over the weekend; for one thing, the natural wear and tear of life with the Durrs at any season, let alone riot-and-subpoena season…
[M]iscellaneous tidbits I forgot to tell you…
There is a magnificent system of public parks in Montgomery, tennis courts, pools, and a zoo. A few years ago Negroes brought suit to gain admittance, and won in the appeals court. Consequently the parks are now padlocked, grass and weeds growing up on the tennis courts etc; the zoo has been totally disbanded. People who want to take their kids to the zoo now have to go all the way to Birmingham—where the zoo is integrated! …
On to the country-clubbery:
After poor Ruth Waller’s debacle, and rumoured linkage with me,123 she told me she “didn’t day-are tra” to see me any more—but, it seems several of her friends were rather longing to get a glimpse of the Oddity (me), and had complained bitterly to her at being deprived. So she told one of them to call me, by name of G.124 G called, asked me to come to her house for a drink Sunday at noon. So I forewent the trip to Pee Level125 with the Durrs, and went to G ‘s. She lives in quite a fancy house, suburban, is about 35 I judge, one of the Smart Young Marrieds. The sort of person who gaily insists, “all my friends think I’m quite mad!” Such as asking me over. When I arrived, she called someone to get a message to a neighbor to say I was there. In other words, to call direct wouldn’t have been the right thing. Soon, the neighbor and husband arrived, Mr. and Mrs. L——. G——’s husband, who is a surgeon, was safely off operating—I gathered the plan was not to tell him much about the day. The L——s are also Smart Young Marrieds…. Evidently, the plan was to look me over—and then, if all seemed well, to take the bravest step yet—lunch at the country club. Albeit a late, late lunch, after most people would have left. So that’s what was done. There were still a few lunchers at the club, and much jockeying to prevent having to introduce me. I’d have given anything for you to have been there.
First of all, there was a warning note. G——said she knows I am a writer and all, but it could bring very grave embarrassment to her and her friends if I were to write about them, specially if identifying things were said—such as “madcap young wife of prominent surgeon”!! Not wishing, at this point, to break up the day, I forebore suggesting a disguise: “deadly dull young wife of prominent surgeon.”
The piece de resistance, from their point of view, was to have me tell about the Rev. King mass meeting. Which I did, in all gory details, while they sat goggle-eyed. I told them I simply couldn’t imagine, no matter what their point of view, how they could have foreborne to go—even just out of ordinary curiosity. They squealed with horror at the very thought. Then, I carefully led them around to a vantage point from which they could, so to speak, see themselves as others see them: allowing themselves to be governed by thugs, getting themselves into a position where they are simply terrified even to meet people like me, for fear of being associated with “outside agitators,” etc.…
G ‘s attitude throughout was one of producing an absolutely rare sort of
freak, goodness she was sad when we had to part…
Lots of love, Decca
To Robert Treuhaft
Atlanta
May 31, 1961
Darling old Bob,
…I don’t think I’ll have to cash that $500 you sent me. I tried to press it on Cliff to pay for a new car, but he wouldn’t accept. We really will have to fight him down on that and insist on ponying up for a car. If only Life would keep on not taking a few more of my articles at $500 a crack, we’d be able to get him a Cadillac.126 …
Huge difference in atmosphere between Atlanta and Montgomery. For instance, here’s a typical Montgomery thing that couldn’t happen here: One day while Jim Dombrowski was in town he called Va. to ask whether he could invite a Negro lawyer over to the house for a few minutes, as he had to see him on business. Va. got v. cross and said absolutely not. As she tends to be a bit weather-vanish about this whole thing, I was interested to hear what Cliff would say. He agreed completely with her, said Jim was a dope to have suggested it. I asked why. It seems that on 2 or 3 occasions, white liberals (some of those I met, with large fancy houses) have had Negroes drop in for tea or something, by chance a neighbor or postman or errand boy has seen them sitting together having tea, called police, and the whole lot carted off to jail. The charge is “inciting to riot”! Same charge as in the MacMurray case that Cliff defended (white prof. and students eating in Negro restaurant).
Maggie127 tells me that sort of thing wouldn’t ever happen here….
Maggie is a real charmer. So’s Sissie, called by Maggie “my little ole jail-bird daughter.” Sissie is… about 20, goes to college in New Orleans, has been in the sit-in movement from the start…
Like all the integrationists in these parts, it seems to be their whole life and preoccupation. Which results, from a Northerner’s point of view, in a sort of slight distortion of them as personalities, if you see what I mean. They see everything in terms of The Problem. Maggie only came to her present position about 10 years ago.
Last night, Maggie took me to dinner at the home of Mr. Sinclair Jacobs. He’s old, rich, retired, art-connoisseur type, magnificent house, about 20 people to dinner. The opposite of Va’s mammoth dinner parties, because seated, served by about 5 servants, all very beautiful and comfortable. I sat next to Eugene Patterson (no relation to Gov. P) who is the editor of the Atlanta Constitution, a “moderate-liberal” according to Maggie. There were various other VIP’s…
Eugene Patterson is a soul in agony because he has that love-of-soil-and-home-folks thing, like Cliff—but the home folks he loves are precisely the sort that formed the mob, as he admits. He kept saying he wishes he could take me out to some of the surrounding country towns to see how blissful the home-folks actually are. I wish he could too, but no time.
The civilized thing about the dinner party (compared to Montgomery) was that just about everybody there favors compliance with the law on integration, and said so (this is terribly dangerous talk in Montgomery). There was great disagreement about the Freedom Riders—that is, whether they had incited the violence by coming etc. People about equally divided on that. There again, in Montgomery (country club circles) they simply try to avoid talking about it, won’t take a position etc…
Do give old Benj my fondest love and kisses. I’d love to bring him down this way one day. Imagine Benj and Lulah Belle128 together, I don’t think they’d even half-way understand each other, she can’t understand a word I say.
Goodbye darling, see you very shortly.
Best love, Decca
To Benjamin Treuhaft
Atlanta
June 1, 1961
Darling Benj,
I was delighted with your letter, have been roaring on and off ever since it came this morning…
The school desegregation here is being handled in an utterly insane way. Here’s what they are doing: 300 Negro high-school students applied for transfer to all white schools. These were immediately whittled down, for geographic reasons, to 153. The 153 were given an immense battery of tests—personality, IQ, achievement, etc. About 10 hours straight of testing, according to one report I heard. Of the 153, 50 ended up above the 50th percentile of kids in the schools they had applied to enter. This was, it seems, too many, so there was more whittling down for geographic reasons (they lived “too far from school” etc). Leaving, 16 kids. The 16 still have to face personal interviews before they will become eligible for transfer. In other words, only Negroes above average are even considered (whereas all whites attend automatically, don’t have to take the test first). But being above average does not do the trick either. Seems as though the “separate but equal” theory is being replaced by “together but unequal.” People are guessing that only 7 or 8 will end up with transfers. Meanwhile, the network of meetings and organizations in the community designed to head off violence and educate the whites to be decent to the Negro transfers is most impressive…
See you next week, looking forward to it greatly and all that sort of rot,
Lots of love, Dec
To Constancia Romilly
Oakland
June 26, 1961
Darling Dinkydonk,
I’d much rather write to you than work, any day. Papa came home at noon to show me your letter, I was so glad to hear you’d arrived129 and all. We had the usual argument, or rather a continuation of the argument about whether you should have gone in the first place; ending with Bob accusing me of being soft with you children and just like Aranka, and me accusing him of being an old ogre and just like my father. He still thinks the Mexico trip was an undisciplined move on your part, probably with little relation to your school work. I still think as I did when we discussed it. In case Bob is now expecting me to write, “enjoy life while you’re still young!” (as Aranka always does, in each letter) I shall now say, “for god’s sake study hard and get good marks, and send us your final Slawrence reports, and buckle to in general.”
Talk about buckling to. Here’s what happened to me the other day. It was a non-Mrs. Gresham day, and the house was a horrible mess from head to foot (head to foot? Attic to basement) with cesspools of things to be tidied, straightened, picked up, washed etc. all over the place and in every room. I gave Benj his mammoth break., consisting these days of 8 pieces of bacon, 4 eggs, 6 slices of toast and marmalade and 1 bottle of milk. This merely caused more things to need washing and putting. Benj went off to his tennis. I looked helplessly around, decided things were too awful for words—and slunk back to bed with a good novel. Hadn’t even had my bath or washed my face; real slut-work. Besides, I’m supposed to be writing at least 3 hours a day. About 12:30, or even 1 p.m., the phone rang. ‘Twas a stranger who had read the Satevepost article about the funeral thing (lots about me in it, June 14 issue, do get hold of it). She said, “I was amused that they described you as an ‘Oakland housewife.’ I’ve read your book and several of your articles, and I don’t regard you as an Oakland housewife at all. How I should love to be a writer! But I don’t have the self-discipline. I suppose one does need a great deal of discipline to be a writer?”; “Does one!” I said, snuggling further under the covers. “I am at my desk by 8:30 every morning, work for a definite number of hours, get all my housework out of the way …” Anyway, I think I ruined her day for her. The only moral to that sad tale that I can think of is don’t be like Mother whatever you do…
I’m still getting nowhere fast with me work. For one thing, I’ve received over 70 letters from all over the country about the funeral thing, so I had to answer them (many asking how to go about organizing a funeral society etc) and I hired Kathy Kahn130 to help me for a couple of days. The funeral society itself is getting letters at the rate of 70 a day, over 1400 at last count. Bob is delighted. Looks as though a national organization may come out of it all…. I told Fred Sweet to come to our national organization meeting, where we may serve dry mort-inis and die-queries. (ha-de-ha)…
WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE
love, love, love, Decca
In front of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire’s estate, Chatsworth, in 1962.
The Treuhafts on Inch Kenneth with James MacGillivray, the boatman and caretaker, in the 1960s.
* MacGibbon & Kee, 1954.
1. Decca used the word often. It seems synonymous with “youth” (perhaps spoken with an Eastern European or Russian accent).
2. Joseph R. Starobin, journalist, author, historian, and teacher, had been foreign editor of the Daily Worker from 1945 to 1954. In 1951 he went into voluntary exile to escape McCarthyism, but returned to the United States, left the Party in 1956, and got a Ph.D. degree from Columbia University. Among his books was American Communism in Crisis, 1943–1957 (Harvard University Press, 1972). For a time he was a good friend of Decca’s, who sometimes stayed with him and his wife, Norma, when she visited in New York in the 1950s.
3. Millicent (Millie) and Howard Selsam were A-list Treuhaft friends in New York. She was a prolific author of children’s science books and he a Marxist philosopher and educator.
4. In mid-1959, Decca began working on a book by this title about the Communist Party. She described it as “sort of an antidote to the Howard Fast I’ve-Been-Duped school.” (Fast was the novelist and former blacklisted Party member who wrote The Naked God: The Writer and the Communist Party [1957] in which he broke publicly with the Party.) The book Decca began toying with was the genesis of A Fine Old Conflict, published nearly two decades later. She described it in 1959 as “very anecdotal and sort of a series of sketches. I don’t know if I will ever actually offer it for publication, too early to tell what it is going to be like, but I’m having an hilarious time doing it.”
5. Joan Rodker, a fellow leftist and old friend of Decca’s from her English years, was Decca and Benjamin’s hostess in London.
6. Perhaps the cocktail named a Fine and Dandy.
7. The London train station.
8. Leftist journalist, prolific author, and translator Cedric Belfrage was a longtime friend of the Treuhafts. A native of England, he had been a film critic in Hollywood in the 1920s and ‘30s. He was a member of the Communist Party, apparently only briefly although he remained a dedicated socialist. He served with British intelligence during World War II and was detailed after the war to de-Nazify the press in France and Germany. In 1948 he co-founded the nonsectarian leftist National Guardian (later simply the Guardian). In 1953 he was subpoenaed by the House Un-American Activities Committee and was deported in 1955 as an alien subversive. He lived and wrote in exile thereafter, returning to the United States only briefly in 1973. Belfrage and his fourth wife, Mary, settled in 1963 in a resplendent compound in Cuernavaca, Mexico, that doubled as an inn for visiting Old Leftists, including Decca and her family and friends (see full descriptions in letter of December 28, 1968).
