JUNE 20, 1938
HYDE PARK, Sunday—There is probably little I can tell you about the last few days that has not already been in the news columns unless I give you a few little personal sidelights!
Friday evening, after my mother-in-law and my grandchildren had arrived at the Statler in Boston, I was to go to Nahant in time for a 7:00 o'clock dinner party, which we were having on the "Potomac" for the wedding party. My mother-in-law's sister, Mrs. Price Collier, was the only one at the Statler who decided to go with me. I imagine the children would have been delighted, but they were not invited. In any case, the ride from Hyde Park had left them very weary. Mrs. Collier and I left about 6:15.
I am not very fond of getting in and out of little boats and climbing up and down gang-planks in evening clothes, but there seemed to be nothing else to do. We walked down the long dock at Nahant and finally reached a very wet float. We climbed into the motor boat which was to take us over to the "Potomac," clutching long flowing dresses and knowing they were getting wet and dirty.
The "Potomac" itself looked very pretty, strung with colored lanterns, and we had some quiet time for conversation, for the young people had changed their plans and decided to dine at 8:00 o'clock. They all looked very attractive, but somewhat weary, when they finally arrived. I sometimes wonder if all the entertainment that goes before a wedding isn't just an added burden to everyone concerned!
Mrs. Collier and I went back to the Statler about 11:00 o'clock. My small grandson, who was sharing my room, murmured sleepily, "Hello Grandmere," and was wide enough awake to remember it the next day and insist that he had not been asleep, which I rather doubt.
They roused us bright and early yesterday morning to drive to Salem and join my husband and everybody else on the boat, and again we were ahead of time and sat pleasantly chatting on the dock for an hour before we left for the church.
Mrs. Clark looked as young as her daughter. There was a sense of intimacy and peace in the little church. To many people present, the Reverend Endicott Peabody's part in the wedding ceremony is almost essential, for he has somehow succeeded in attending the weddings of a vast number of his Groton boys. Anne was a very lovely bride. As she and John ran to their car, her last look was for her mother. They were showered with rose petals and good wishes, and the sun shone upon them, so we shall hope that the storms of life will be few and that when they come, they may have strength to meet them.