Coming to Colorado: A Young Immigrantâ??s Journey to Become an American Flyer

CHAPTER 23. RMS: Queen Mary

RMS Queen Mary CHAPTER 23 { 266 } RMS QUEEN MARY Amatched set of Neiman Marcus luggage, five rawhide-covered suitcases varying in size from a small cosmetics case to a huge travel trunk, was delivered to our hotel room. I had given up thinking about the cost of anything. I never even presented Harriet with an engagement ring, as I knew any ring I could afford on my airman’s pay would have been an embarrassment to her. Instead, on her ring finger, she wore that enormous oval-shaped diamond, a multicarat ring she and her mother selected at Neiman Marcus before we met. Harriet flaunted that ring before her friends, but actually didn’t need a ring to draw attention to herself. She had that pure-bred look about her, a casual yet studied walk which announced to everyone that she came from that world where people never thought about money, where having lots of it was a given, where everything you did was learned and studied from early childhood, especially how you walked, sat, and moved in public. Harriet learned all that and more, including how to spend money, an apparent art form in her world. How I became a part of Harriet’s world remained a mystery I had yet to solve—a wealthy socialite marrying a poor immigrant boy. If I could figure out the answer, maybe I would know how to make her my wife in ways other than just name. The five rawhide-covered suitcases, and more, went on the airplane that took us from Dallas to New York, where we stayed for the night in the Waldorf-Astoria before embarking on the Queen Mary the following morning. Everything was first class—the seats on the plane, the hotel room, our cabin on the ship. We flew from Dallas Love Field to New York’s Idlewild airport the morning of the ninth of August. A red carpet was rolled from the first-class lounge to the stairs leading to the first class cabin. I had heard of the expression “red carpet treatment” but never expected it to be quite so literal. The Fort Worth Star Telegram reported that Harriet “wore away a chocolate brown silk suit with brown accessories . The couple will sail Wednesday from New York on the Queen Mary for England. They will make their home in Stiffkey, Norfolk, England.” It all sounded so romantic, even could be, if Harriet was up to it. What was missing was the reality of life as the wife of an airman second class in the United States Air Force. On August first I was promoted, giving { 267 } RMS QUEEN MARY me an additional stripe and a little extra money, something I never mentioned to Harriet. The Queen Mary was truly a beautiful ship, with her three enormous stacks towering over everything else at the dock. According to the List of Passengers, a small booklet distributed to every first-class cabin, the ship was 81,237 gross tons and driven by a quadruple-screw turbine, under the command of Captain R. G. Thelwell, O.B.E., R.D., and Staff Captain R. J. N. Nicholas, R.D., R.N.R., the junior captain, who did all the work and none of the socializing I presumed. The Queen carried a principal medical officer as well as a surgeon able to take care of most medical emergencies which might arise among its first-class passengers. A total of “2,828 souls” were onboard, including a crew of 1,272, and 257 first-class passengers. Segregation was absolute. No cabin or tourist-class passenger had an opportunity to penetrate the inner sanctum of the first-class world. The passenger list was rife with titles: Lady and Sir, Prince and Princess, Captain, His Excellency, Doctor, and The Honorable. Harriet and I were escorted to our cabin by an attentive and solicitous member of the crew. B99 was a spacious and well-appointed cabin, looked after by two attendants who introduced themselves upon our arrival and put themselves at our service for the duration of the voyage. After getting settled, Harriet and I went up on deck for the departure ceremony. At twelve thirty sharp several tugs moved the huge ocean liner from its berth to the sounds of the ship’s band. I couldn’t help but reflect on my own arrival in the port of New...