Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank
Folly Beach (39 page)
I became interested in the Charleston Renaissance when SCETV Radio’s finest personality, noted historian and friend to authors everywhere, Walter Edgar asked me if I had read
Three O’clock Dinner
by Josephine Pinckney. I had not and he loaned me a copy, which I read and enjoyed tremendously. It seemed so contemporary but in its day (1945) it must have been controversial, as it touched on some topics that were still taboo in 2011.
I couldn’t forget the book or the writer’s voice, and as fate would have it, I mentioned that to Faye Jenson, the executive director of the South Carolina Historical Society, where I have served on the board for a few years. She said that she thought I should come down and read the papers of Dorothy and DuBose Heyward and others. So last summer, the summer of 2010, I did, beginning with the Heywards. My first discovery was that DuBose was a high school dropout and that Dorothy was very well educated, having studied at Columbia University and Radcliffe College. Then I discovered the huge economic disparities between them. Dorothy was a wealthy woman and DuBose was comfortable at the time they met but he had grown up in poverty. I ran across a copy of her birth certificate, on which her name is “Dorothea”—my name—and letterhead that stated she lived on Fifth and Twelfth in Manhattan—my old address—and that she was a member of the Cosmopolitan Club, and so am I. I began to wonder if Dorothea/Dorothy wasn’t trying to tell me something, and if so, what was she trying to say? I then discovered a letter from a friend to her, calling her “Dottie,” which my friends and family have called me all of my life. Every time I turned around, it seemed I was bumping into another coincidence or similarity. Okay, I thought, there’s a story here and I’m going to try and tell it. Who was Dorothy Heyward?
The most interesting and curious fact of all might be that because she survived DuBose by many years, what is in those boxes at the SCHS is there because it was what Dorothy wanted us to know. Every single letter from her to DuBose is absent. Perhaps
he
did not save her letters or perhaps
she
disposed of them. We will never know. But scores of letters from DuBose to her were carefully preserved. It appears that Dorothy wanted us to have a one-sided conversation with DuBose, not her. It is my opinion that Dorothy always wanted DuBose to be the celebrity, the icon, the one who was remembered and revered. She loved him that much.
It is a matter of historic fact that Dorothy herself adapted DuBose’s book
Porgy
for the stage and that she also had a great hand in creating the adaptation of
Mamba’s Daughters
for the stage, the two most successful works with DuBose Heyward’s name attached to them. But she shied away from taking credit for herself and, in fact, spent her widowhood making sure that DuBose’s name appeared in the credits of all of Gershwin’s productions of
Porgy and Bess
so that his estate would receive the royalties that were due.
And, finally, while Dorothy Heyward seems to have gone to great lengths to disappear into history as “just a girl from Ohio who wanted a career on the other side of the footlights,” the facts appear to be different to me. True, she was diminutive in the extreme, and the fact that she was from Ohio may have rendered her more easily dismissed by DuBose’s crowd, but Dorothy Kuhns Heyward was a powerhouse, who married into one of Charleston’s most prestigious families and spent her life doing everything she could for the man she fiercely loved. Theirs may be the most powerful love story of the Charleston Literary Renaissance.
For those who want to learn more about the Charleston Literary Renaissance, I offer the following reading list:
Renaissance in Charleston: Art and Life in the Carolina Low Country, 1900–1940,
James M. Hutchisson and Harlan Greene, editors
Mr. Skylark: John Bennett and the Charleston Renaissance,
by Harlan Greene
DuBose Heyward: A Charleston Gentleman and the World of
Porgy and Bess, by James M. Hutchisson
A DuBose Heyward Reader,
James M. Hutchisson, editor
Folly Beach: A Brief History,
by Gretchen Stringer-Robinson
The Morris Island Lighthouse: Charleston’s Maritime Beacon,
by Douglas W. Bostick
A Talent for Living: Josephine Pinckney and the Charleston Literary Tradition,
by Barbara L. Bellows
The Devil and a Good Woman, Too: The Lives of Julia Peterkin,
by Susan Millar Williams
For those who want to read the work of the writers of the Charleston Literary Renaissance, I offer the following reading list:
Sea-drinking Cities,
poems by Josephine Pinckney
Three O’clock Dinner,
by Josephine Pinckney
Mamba’s Daughters: A Novel of Charleston,
by DuBose Heyward
Porgy,
by DuBose Heyward
Peter Ashley,
by DuBose Heyward
Carolina Chansons,
by Hervey Allen and DuBose Heyward
The Doctor to the Dead: Grotesque Legends and Folk Tales of Old Charleston,
by John Bennett
Scarlet Sister Mary,
by Julia Peterkin
Green Thursday,
by Julia Peterkin
I always say that many hands go into the making of a book, but this time the population is so very important that I want to try and thank each person for their contributions. Where to start? It would have to be with Harlan Greene of Charleston. I was introduced to Harlan by mutual friends and now I hope I can say that he is a friend of mine, too. First, he is the consummate gentleman and a brilliant one at that. And he is a fascinating writer and wonderful historian. I devoured his books, notated them to death, but when we got together and discovered our mutual interest in the Heywards, he opened his generous heart and told me what he knew about Dorothy and DuBose, about the whole literary scene in Charleston and indeed in America during the twenties and the thirties. I think I tortured him with questions, but he was always so gracious and patient with me and he encouraged me to keep digging for new truths. Harlan, I am deeply in your debt and very grateful. Next would be James M. Hutchisson of the Citadel, whose biography of DuBose Heyward kept me up at night as did his work on the Charleston Renaissance that he edited with Harlan Greene. Like Harlan, Jim also answered my countless questions and encouraged me to take literary license with my story, because, after all, I’m writing fiction. So, Professor Hutchisson, I thank you mightily for your time, good humor, and support. Without these two gentlemen, this book simply could not be.
Well, shoot me, but I just put age before beauty. Now I bow and scrape to Faye Jenson, the executive director of the South Carolina Historical Society, and her lovely assistant, Mary Jo Fairchild. I had such a wonderful time learning about the Heywards within the walls of the Fireproof Building that houses this venerable institution and again, this book would be so much less rich without the treasures I found and the ones you led me to within your archives. Many thanks for all your insights and thoughts and most especially for your incredible hospitality.
Also many sincere thanks to Harriet MacDougal Rigney of Charleston for all her remembrances, good ideas, and friendship. Most especially, thank you for the introduction to Kathy Glick of Folly Beach, proud owner of the Porgy House, the lynchpin of this story. And to Kathy Glick, huge thanks for allowing me inside the precious and adorable Porgy House and for telling me your stories. I loved meeting you, and your hand in this book is a very important one indeed. Admittedly, this story evolved into something entirely different from the pitch I gave to you, but that’s normal in this crazy business.
Thanks also to Lisa Bowen Hamrick for helping me locate a copy of Dorothy Heyward’s obituary and to two very helpful folks from the Charleston Museum for information on the piano used by Gershwin: J. Graham Long, curator of history, and Jenifer Scheetz, archivist. And special thanks once again to Rees Jones for his help with the golf clubs. To Peter McGee of Charleston, for his wonderful story about Oscar Wilde, I say many, many thanks to you, sir! And special thanks to John Zeigler of Charleston for the pleasure of his company and a delightful afternoon of remembering.
I’d like to recognize and thank the following residents of Folly Beach, who opened their doors to me five years ago when this story was in its infancy: Carl Beckman, Mary J. Rhodes, Gretchen Stringer-Robinson, and Marlene Estridge. And many thanks to Randy Robinson, chief building official of the Sullivans Island Building Department, for reminding me which way the sand blows; to Jennet Robinson Alterman for information on Piccolo Spoleto; and to Sue Tynan of Suty Designs for helping me take my notes in style.
To my agent and great friend, Larry Kirshbaum, the most charming and elegant gentleman in the whole darn city of New York, with my undying thanks for his excellent counsel, and to my wonderful editor, Carrie Feron, whose patience seems to know no bounds and for her priceless wisdom—both of you—look out the window toward the Garden State. Yes, that is me curtsying and blowing you so many kisses of gratitude.
And to the entire William Morrow and Avon team: Brian Murray, Michael Morrison, Liate Stehlik, Adrienne Di Pietro, Kristine Macrides, Tessa Woodward, Lynn Grady, Tavia Kowalchuk, Seale Ballenger, Ben Bruton, Greg Shutack, Shawn Nichols, Frank Albanese, Virginia Stanley, Jamie Brickhouse, Rachael Brennan, Josh Marwell, Michael Brennan, Carl Lennertz, Carla Parker, Donna Waikus, Rhonda Rose, Michael Morris, Michael Spradlin, Gabe Barillas, Deb Murphy, and last but most certainly not least, Brian Grogan: Thank you one and all for the miracles you perform and for your amazing, generous support. You still make me want to dance!
To Buzzy Porter, huge thanks for getting me so organized and for your loyal friendship of so many years. Don’t know what I’d do with myself without you!
To Debbie Zammit, seems incredible but here we are again! Another year! Another year of tuna salad on Mondays, keeping me on track, catching my goobers, and making me look reasonably intelligent. I know, I owe you so big-time it’s ridiculous, but isn’t this publishing business more fun than Seventh Avenue? Love ya, girl!
To Ann Del Mastro, George Zur, and my cousin Charles Comar Blanchard: all the Franks love you for too many reasons to enumerate!
To booksellers across the land, and I mean every single one of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, especially Patty Morrison and Larry Morey of Barnes and Noble, Tom Warner and Vicky Crafton of Litchfield Books, Sally Brewster of Park Road Books, and once again, can we just hold the phone for Jacquie Lee of Books-A-Million? Jacquie, Jacquie! You are too much, hon! Love ya and love y’all!
And a special thanks to those whose names I grabbed from real life and used for characters. If you recognize yourself acting strangely or being peculiar, it is just me having a little fun with my friends, especially Cathy Mahon and John Risley.
To my family—Peter, William, and Victoria—I love y’all with all I’ve got. I’m so proud of you and so grateful for your understanding when deadlines and book tours roll around every year. As always, just for being who you are, my heart swells with gratitude and pride when I think of you and you are never far away from the forefront of my mind. Every woman should have my good fortune with their family. You fill my life with joy.
Finally, to my readers, to whom I owe the greatest debt of all. I am sending you the most sincere and profound thanks for reading my stories, for sending along so many nice e-mails, for yakking it up with me on Facebook, and for coming out to book signings. You are why I try to write a book each year. I hope Folly Beach will give you something new to think about and somewhere new to try. There’s a lot of magic down here in the Lowcountry. Please, come see us and get some for yourself!
I love you all and thank you once again.
New York Times
bestselling author D
OROTHEA
B
ENTON
F
RANK
was born and raised on Sullivans Island, South Carolina. She resides in the New York area with her husband.
www.dotfrank.com
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