I did find Bob's first wife Elizabeth up in Patterson, NY, but no Buffy Harkness, his second wife, anywhere, and I did get to swing by the house, but no one was home. Bob had outwitted me again. I decided my next trip, I am going directly to the source armed with Sodium Pentothal.
The NY Rubber Co. where Henry Sr. worked is still in Beacon. This is also the area where Bob was born. It amazed me how many people in Beacon, didn't know what was in Beacon. I went to the police station to let them know I would be down there as I didn't have any interest in being hauled off in cuffs or becoming a permanent resident should something happen. I am hitting the town hall there too the next time to see what I can find.
I also was going to see Bob's first ladies, however, the Obama brigade kept me out of Washington/Arlington [note: this was during the inauguration], so Constance Bennett will have to wait until fall. For some reason Ferncliff was closed when I got there, and I could just hear Joan laughing from behind the fence. I went to three different gates and I am sure I heard laughter at each one. But I went across the street and paid a visit to Anne Bancroft and then down the road to see Helen Hayes. Glenda Farrell was wonderfully located at West Point, where my room was, but finding a white stone in white snow wasn't easy either.
I stopped by the nursing home where Van Johnson resided but, well... the people there must really hate their jobs because they were pretty rude. I simply asked if they could tell me where he is buried so I can put down some flowers and they said, "He isn't." And gave me a really stupid look. The story I got was that there was no next of kin, just someone who was handling the estate and he is at some funeral home. After going there I told my husband don't ever put me in a nursing home. And we need to update our wills.