I planned to use the top photograph for another post on my grandmother (who is on the right, the skinny lady). But I'm pressed for time (yes, I'm tired of typing it) & see that it is, indeed, Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald's birthday. I'll come back & write more eventually. But go here to The Writer's Almanac that features Zelda. (Zelda, Scott, & Scottie are buried in a churchyard not far from me, & it's always quite sad to go past there, especially on the bus as you can look down into the yard. If you go on purpose, it's one thing; if you're riding by on busy roads & no one else is paying attention, it somehow seems wrong. I fear someday I'll turn into a tour guide, stand & begin to hold forth on the subject, on the Q2 bus.)
I asked my grandmother, so what's the deal with ripping off the top of the photo-postcard? As in, there's a man standing behind you & your friend. I asked a number of times, allowing 5-6 years in between. Same answer. Not peeved, not snappish. Just dragged on her cigarette (not unladylike in those days) or applied her lipstick or pinned on her hat. (She never wore pants, always had on heels...the best vintage jewellry, very cool.) & gave no comment except, "I just don't remember." But she did. That's catnip to a budding Harriet the Spy/Nancy Drew/you get the idea.
The final time I asked she said something along the lines of "I admire your tenacity, but...no comment...". So I told her, whether this guy had to something to do with her friend or her or not, I would write about the photograph & make up my own story. Didn't she want to set the record straight? At all? To which she said, "That will be absolutely wonderful, honey, I'm sure of it. Whatever you come up with will be so much better than the real thing." She was a character.
Have a great weekend.
[photograph of Zelda & Scott - LIFE Archives]