Recollections of "The Greatest Generation"

Last evening, TSR2 showed the 1977 film "Julia."  The film was based on the eponymous story in the 1973 memoir "Pentimento: A Book of Portaits" by the American playwright, Lillian Hellman.  In the film, Jane Fonda plays the role of Lillian Hellman and Vanessa Redgrave the role of Julia.  The film is very highly regarded and received several major awards and nominations.  Among others, Jane Fonda received an Oscar nomination for Best Actress and Vanessa Redgrave won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.

I have never had the pleasure of meeting either woman and admire both generally.  But I did have the great honor and pleasure of being introduced to Jane's father, the great American actor, the late Henry Fonda.

Watching the film, I was transported back in time, not only to the 1930s settings, but also more than 30 years to my own past in the spring of 1978.  At the time, I was living in Missoula, Montana, with my two pre-teen-age sons, in the last throes of my marriage to their father.  Artist Sis had come to spend her spring break with us, together with her own young son.  At the time, we were both secondary school teachers:  that was a couple of professional incarnations ago for me.

1978 was a mid-term, i.e., not a Presidential, election year.  As it happened, one young US Representative from Montana had decided to run for a seat in the US Senate.  Spring was the time for raising funds for his campaign.  One major fund-raiser was to be held in the state capital city of Helena as the Montana premiere of the film "Julia."  Because the candidate's wife was a friend of Shirlee Fonda, Henry Fonda's fifth and last wife, the major draw was to be Henry Fonda himself, who would introduce the film.

Helena, Montana was founded in July 1864 with the discovery of gold in Last Chance Gulch, so named because it was the last place the original prospectors tried, i.e., their "last chance."  That trial ultimately paid off very well: about USD 3 billion worth of gold was removed from the lode found there.  "Last Chance Gulch" became the name of Helena's main street.  In reality, the street lies close to the path of the original winding gulch where gold was discovered.  As was the case with many of the original mining cities in the American West, Helena's past was rough and exceedingly colorful at times.  Be that as it may, by 1888, around 50 millionnaires lived there, more per capita than any city in the world.  Keep in mind, however, that Helena's population was hardly numerous in those days.  Even today, a scant 30,000 people live there.

The original gold barons built mansions, many in the Victorian style of the era.  Many still exist today and have been well-maintained.  For the fund-raiser, it was decided that receptions would be hosted in several of these mansions at which food and drinks would be served prior to the film showing.  The plan was that the candidate, accompanied by well-known figures in state and local political circles, as well as by Henry and Shirlee Fonda, would meet and greet the guests at each of the mansions.  Then all would gather at one of the local theaters for the actual screening.

Artist Sis and I were too involved in the daily routines of our own lives to pay much attention to all this brouhaha.  But our father, very active politically, was very excited.   Henry Fonda, like our father, was a veteran of World War II.   As was also the case with our father, Fonda had enlisted in the US Navy.  They had, in fact, enlisted at about the same time and completed their training together at San Diego, California before being assigned to different ships in the Pacific Ocean.  Although our father rarely spoke of his experiences in WWII, an oft-repeated family story of our mother's dealt with our father's "graduation" from his naval training in San Diego.  According to our mother, who was present at the ceremony, when my father's name was called, two women behind her exclaimed, "Why, he's even better-looking than Henry Fonda!"

Thus, Dad contributed substantially, enough in fact, so that he and his two oldest daughters, Artist Sis and myself, could attend the fund-raiser to be introduced to Henry Fonda.  Fortunately, we had a cousin in Helena who consented to look after our progeny so that we could socialize.  So we packed the car with suitable clothing and the boys, drove to Helena across the Continental Divide of the Rockies, and prepared to be wined and dined.

Obviously, the tour of the mansions and the meeting and greeting of guests took some time.  Artist Sis and I were enjoying ourselves generally.  The mansion we were assigned to was lovely, the hosts welcoming, the other guests interesting and the food and drink abundant.  Finally, the door opened and the candidate appeared with his entourage in tow.  Artist Sis and I hung back, a bit embarrassed to see our father make a beeline straight for Henry Fonda.  Surely, he wouldn't even remember our father.  After the first flurry of displacement, I found myself standing next to Shirlee Fonda, who was quite charming and interesting.  After some initial small talk, we actually began conversing, when I felt a tug on my sleeve.  It was Dad.  There in front of me was Henry Fonda in the flesh, tall, slender and charismatic, a handsome and arresting presence even in his 70s.  I was literally smitten and completely tongue-tied.  "I understand that you're Darby's daughter," he said.  "We used to get up to some hi-jinx together in the old days."  I must have mumbled something.  He leaned forward then, and said, "You know, they made me take a commission.  I really didn't want to do it."  And then he moved on, with the candidate, who looked considerably less charismatic, trailing in his wake.

It was true.  Fonda went into the Navy as an enlisted man, not wanting to be treated any differently than anyone else even though he was famous, older than most enlistees of the time and considerably better educated.  For this, he endeared himself to all those who enlisted and served with him in those dark days.  Fonda, unlike some other well-known actors of the same era who specifically cultivated macho personas but never actually served a day in the military, stated, "I don't want to be in a fake war in a studio."   He was at first assigned to a destroyer, but later was commissioned as an officer in Air Combat Intelligence.  He drew on his own naval experience for the character he played in "Mr. Roberts," which received awards, both as a play and a film. 

After San Diego, our own father was assigned to a tender, the USS Tryon.  A tender was a smaller ship that had to get in close to the battle beaches to pick up the wounded and dying and take them further out to the large hospital ships, that stayed at a presumably safe distance from the battles.  But this is something that we did not learn from him until much later.

Both veterans of the Greatest Generation are probably exchanging tales of the old days right now.  Fonda left us in 1982.  Our father joined him in 2004.   We of the Silent Generation salute you.  We owe you, big-time.