Gladys LeBreton as told to Carol Deas: An Unforgettable Summer

AN UNFORGETTABLE SUMMER

by Gladys LeBreton as told to Carol Deas

We were the best of friends, Nancy Miles and I, two little girls fortunate enough to be growing up on sugar plantations. Then, later, when we moved to New Orleans, both of us attended McGehee School, one living on St. Charles Avenue and the other right around the corner. Nancy was one of five children. Her father, Dr. William Porsche Miles, had inherited Houmas Plantation, but he was less interested in being a sugar planter than in the practice of medicine. As a result, by 1934, most of the sugar cane land had been sold off, but the magnificent mansion remained, though in some disrepair.

The family, however, still enjoyed spending weekends there, where it was safe for Dr. Miles to do skeet shooting, which he loved. I would be invited to accompany them and we would have such fun, running in and around the house, up the winding staircase to the attic, peering out over the majestic avenue of oaks to the mighty Mississippi.

But, back to my subject. Why did this wonderful summer trip take place? Well, unfortunately, sometime during the spring of 1937, Dr. Miles became ill, and then, much to his family’s sorrow, he died. This was a blow to me as well; I was close to the family and had never before encountered death.

To remove themselves from the sadness of losing their father, Nancy's older brother, Henry, and sister, May, decided to take a trip to Europe. Henry would be taking his girlfriend and May would be taking her boyfriend, an unusual situation, to be sure. For that era, to be chaperoneless! But Mrs. Miles trusted them. Henry would look out for May; and if it was okay with Mama, then it was okay with everyone.

They traveled to New York by car, chauffeured by their mother, along with Nancy and Oliver, the youngest child, in a four-door sedan. I arrived alone by train. Along the way there was a stop at the George Washington Hotel, a bit south of Washington, D.C., where everyone had fun playing ping-pong, shopping at Saks and Lord & Taylor, and flirting with the handsome young man who worked the hotel soda fountain.

Then on to New York. I had been there once before for my brother Edward’s graduation from Princeton; and I do remember peeking through a hole in the fence

to see the Empire State Building under construction. On that trip, we had all driven there in the family car, old “John Buick,” and my father refused to allow us to read while we drove, explaining how important it was to enjoy and appreciate the scenery.

After depositing her two oldest children safely onboard the ship, Mrs. Miles’ intention was to head across the country to visit her brother, who made his home in La Jolla, California. I was also invited to go along, so Nancy would have a companion. My parents were quite surprised by this and were somewhat hesitant, but the two families were very close, and so I was allowed to go.

Almost immediately after arriving in New York, however, the youngest Miles’ child, Oliver, contracted pneumonia. His mother, understandably, was so concentrating on his illness that we got the message to “stay out of the way” and we were more than happy to oblige. We took buses all over Manhattan. We visited the fabulous aquarium, at that time the only one in America. We went to the theater on Broadway and saw quite a few good plays.

Nancy had a rich old lady aunt who lived in the Boatner Reily House on Prytania Street and also kept rooms in a hotel in Atlantic City. We wound up going there, walking the boardwalk, and going swimming, all unsupervised, of course. We had dinner at a ritzy yacht club on Long Island with friends of my parents, all of it a whole new world for me.

Nancy had a friend from McGehee’s who was related to the Reily family and was staying at the Waldorf Astoria at the same time. For reasons unknown to us but gleefully accepted, nobody else was on our floor. As a result, we got our own rooms, went downstairs to stores in robes and slippers in the middle of the night, and had a chauffeur and limousine to provide rides. No more bus!

After about a month, Oliver recovered sufficiently to continue the diagonal trek across the country to La Jolla.

On the first day of our journey, we stopped for gas in Pennsylvania Amish country. While there, Mrs. Miles struck up a conversation with another customer, who wound up taking us to an Amish home for dinner, which was delicious.

Next, on to Chicago, to pick up Mrs. Labouisse, a dear friend. While there, we visited the Museum of Natural History, which was, and remains, an extraordinary place. But now there were five of us in the car: Oliver, very quiet, in

the front seat next to his mother, and Mrs. Labouisse, Nancy, and me, in the back. We moved around frequently, however, so that nobody got stuck too long in the same spot.

There is no way I can remember all of our stops, but I do recall vividly watching the construction of faces on Mount Rushmore. I was able to stand on a ridge and watch them carving away on the mountainside. Some faces were completed, so what they were doing could be easily seen.

Then on to Yellowstone. A little wooden cottage with two bedrooms was rented for us there, and we stayed for almost two weeks. Such a beautiful place, and so much to do. Of course we saw the geysers, including Old Faithful, the most reliable. There were, however, no bathrooms in the cottages, so we had to walk about a half block to use the facilities. On one of our first nights at Yellowstone, just before bedtime, Nancy and I were walking to the bathroom building to the left of which was a storage building, and we noticed a commotion going on, accompanied by yelling and flashing lights. To our terror, who was in the storage room but an enormous black grizzly and he was headed straight for us! Well, needless to say, we flew back to the cottage. Whew!

Nancy’s brother, Oliver, only twelve, already happened to be an accomplished ornithologist. At school, he would bird-watch while the other kids played sports and he knew of a particular bird found almost exclusively at Yellowstone. He had asked some of the workers about it, but they paid little attention to this short kid. Finally his mother took Oliver to the head park ranger, who could see he was truly interested. As a result, one afternoon, armed with instructions, we all set out in the car to locate the bird, some sort of crane, I think, which was endangered.

We parked by the side of the road and Oliver set off by himself into a patch of reeds, just a little guy who hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. At first we could see reeds swaying, but soon nothing, as into the unknown Oliver ventured, clutching instructions. After about an hour, Mrs. Miles announced, “I’m going in” and for us to stay put while she searched for her child. Pretty soon, however, we couldn't see her either. After what seemed like an eternity, with us roasting in a hot car in the broiling sun, they both emerged, triumphant. They had found the bird. Oliver was ecstatic!

As a result of the search, though, we were late leaving Yellowstone, so by the time we got to town, alas, no vacancies. The hotel clerk told us, however, that

while there was no room at the inn, he could put us up with a nice family, consisting of a man, his wife, and their children. We were tired and desperate, so we agreed. The couple moved their sleeping children, and we went to bed. But what I remember most is this: We were all standing in front of the house talking, when Mrs. Labouisse reached behind herself and said, “What is this thing hanging behind me? Oh, for goodness sake, it’s my corset.” She forgot she’d taken it off due to the heat, whereupon we all dissolved into gales of laughter.

Next, onto Salt Lake City, where we visited the Mormon Temple and swam in the Great Salt Lake. We found it to be soupy, warm, and unpleasant, but unique.

At long last, we arrived at our destination, La Jolla, California, a very small town with houses painted pink, blue, green, and yellow, truly a fairy-tale place. Nancy’s Uncle Henry had no idea we were coming; it was a surprise visit. It was only after quite a bit of difficulty that we located him. We saw him walking down the street, and Nancy and I chased after him. Deaf as a post, he was completely shocked to see two young ladies chasing him down. He was very happy, though, to see his beloved sister and all of us as well. He found us a cheap but nice apartment for about two weeks, and even took us swimming in the Pacific Ocean. I recall how exciting that was but not such a great place to swim because of a dangerous undertow.

After saying goodbye to Uncle Henry, our next adventure began with a drive through the Giant Sequoia Redwood Forest, Muir Woods, and actually through a tree, mind-boggling! We continued north and stopped at a dude ranch, where Nancy and I rode horses, went on picnics during the day, and danced at night. We had only planned to stay a couple of days but ended up staying a week. On then to San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge, which had just opened in May. But San Francisco was not a favorite, just a little too foggy for us.

Next stop, Lake Tahoe, where the water was extremely cold and very deep. We really enjoyed Tahoe and stayed at least a week. I remember being impressed by the fabulous totem poles. Then up to the coast of Canada, where we took the ferry to Victoria and saw the Butchart Gardens, a paradise of flowers.

On this trip, we never had reservations; we would just drive until Mrs. Miles got tired. She was amazing; she always looked the lady, black skirt, blouse, sensible shoes, white gloves, and never without a hat. She would be the one of us to get out of the car to inquire about vacancies, instead of any of us, who much of the time looked like tramps.