by Alexis Clark
Even if Elinor wanted to leave Frederick because of his cheating, it would have been very difficult. He provided everything, so much so that Elinor didn’t even know how to write a check.26 “You know the sun rose and set in Ellie,” said Hope about Frederick’s feelings toward her aunt. “I mean, they did their bickering-back-and-forth kind of thing, but there was nothing that she could want and that she didn’t have.”27 The fire was still present in their marriage, she was in love with him despite his many flaws, and she was accustomed to her comfortable life.
Chris had started taking private trumpet lessons at age twelve or thirteen. Although Frederick was skeptical of his son’s talent, Elinor was an immediate fan, and Chris’s instructors lauded him for his perfect pitch. But Frederick’s doubts left an impression on his son. “In the first three or four years of playing, he said, ‘Well, if you can’t play what you hear, then you might as well quit now.’ And that came on very strong, because when someone says something to you with that much absolute attitude, it’s like, ‘Well, maybe I should give up.’”28 He didn’t quit, but a rift grew between the two men.
As a teenager in the 1960s, Chris found it harder to exist in the color-blind world that Elinor and Frederick created. He read the Autobiography of Malcolm X and became intrigued by the Black Power Movement. At fourteen, Chris began to embrace his black heritage more openly than his white side. He wore an Afro and went to school wearing dashikis.
“I became kind of self-conscious about being in public with my father and having one of my black friends say, ‘Oh your father is white.’ Like it wouldn’t be obvious anyway that one of my parents was white. But I went through this period, at least three or four years, like I was kind of on alert when we’d ride around in the car.” Frederick didn’t say anything about his son’s increasingly moody attitude, but it became so troubling to Elinor that she confronted Chris. She looked her son straight in the eye and told him, “Don’t make me choose between the two of you. Because I’m going to choose him.”
That moment stuck with Chris. He interpreted Elinor as telling him to respect his father—and that she was more concerned with how Frederick felt than about appreciating the difficult position her son was navigating as a mixed-race child during intense social unrest. “Ten years later I could say, ‘Well, yes, it’s important that if you have elements of your DNA and personality that you have to acknowledge whatever you’re made up of,’” said Chris. However, it was clear to the teenage Chris that his mother didn’t understand.29
Frederick may have avoided the issue of race because, as a white man, he simply had no idea how to comfort his son. He may have felt guilt for not being able to understand what being half black meant in a racist society. Or he didn’t want to unleash emotions and problems for which he didn’t have a solution.
Chris was accepted into and attended the New England Conservatory of Music. Elinor and Frederick drove up for his final graduation concert. Chris knew his father was still ambivalent about his talent, but Frederick dutifully attended and took a seat in the auditorium alongside the other parents. Before Chris went onstage Elinor said to him, “Play pretty for the people.” And he did just that, churning out a melodious rendition of “Stella by Starlight.” “I remember my mother was proud and said, ‘That was beautiful, Christopher.’” He didn’t expect a compliment from Frederick, nor did he remember getting one. But by then, Chris had accepted his father on Frederick’s terms. He knew his dad wasn’t going to gush over him, ever—he didn’t know how.
Chris continued to pursue his music and didn’t look back, traveling the world playing the trumpet. On the rare occasion he stopped home in between gigs and practiced in his old room, Elinor stood by the door, listening to him play and getting choked up.
Once the children moved out, Elinor and Frederick kept up their routine. Frederick had become a vice president at Pepperidge Farm, where during his time overseeing the experimental bakery, the famous Pepperidge Farm apple pie tart was created.30 However, the company couldn’t confirm if Frederick personally developed the recipe, which was similar to the dessert he used to make for Elinor when he was a POW.
Frederick had long since patched up his relationship with his mother, traveling to Europe over the years to visit. After Karl Albert died in 1964, Margarete took several trips of her own, including one to Village Creek, and developed a far more congenial disposition in her later years. She and Elinor were cordial to each other, although never close, and that was the extent of their relationship until Margarete’s death in 1991.31
Elinor continued to garden, have friends over in the afternoon, cook dinner for Frederick, and listen to Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, and Duke Ellington in the evenings in the living room with Frederick. That part of their lives would never change. There was always great music playing in the Albert house—the two of them with jazz in the backdrop, just as it had been from the start.
“They loved each other deeply until the day they died,” said Chris.
Postscript
IN 1981, CHRIS ALBERT JOINED THE COUNT BASIE Band, and by 1999, he was a trumpet player in the Duke Ellington Orchestra, though neither Frederick nor Elinor would ever see him perform on that level. Frederick, like his father, was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and died in June 2001, at age seventy-five. Elinor, who had been in poor health for a while, died four years later from a cancerous growth in her chest, at age eighty-four.
Chris came to accept that there were parts of Frederick and Elinor’s lives that he would never fully know.
“I think there’s a certain amount of programming that goes on in family and long-term relationships,” he said. “You know what to expect and for instance, now that I’m a middle-aged person, and even years before, I said, ‘Well, why didn’t I ever ask him about Hitler? And why didn’t I ever ask him about the whole Nazi movement?”1
Stephen Albert, in a rare moment of talking about his parents, agreed. “When I think back on it, they didn’t volunteer a lot, let’s put it that way. And I don’t think I particularly asked a lot either. It’s not like they were hiding anything, but they just didn’t bring it up.”2
Stephen, who chose not to participate in the research for this book, went on to have a career in social work, before retiring in South Norwalk, Connecticut, where he lives. Chris resides in the family house in Village Creek. He toured with the Duke Ellington Orchestra until 2017.
“My father didn’t talk much. And my mom didn’t reveal that much either. But at least my parents gave me jazz.”
Acknowledgments
THIS BOOK EXISTS, QUITE SIMPLY, BECAUSE THERE are people in my life who believe in me and never hesitate to help me. From family and friends to professional colleagues, as well as a ton of prayer, I cannot stress how grateful I am for the support system that helped Enemies in Love come to be.
My mind doesn’t think chronologically when it comes to all the people I want to thank and all the enriching experiences I’ve had while writing this book. But I’m forever grateful to Chris Albert, Elinor and Frederick’s youngest son, who couldn’t have been more generous with his time and candid about his parents. I usually took the train up to South Norwalk, Connecticut, in the morning to visit Chris at his house in Village Creek, listening to jazz in the background and thumbing through Elinor’s scrapbooks, while he smoked cigarettes and talked about his parents. This book couldn’t have happened without him.
Another person who helped make this project happen is my wonderful agent Howard Yoon, of the Ross Yoon Agency, who loved this story just as much as I did and helped me envision the very book I wanted to write.
I’m also forever indebted to Darren Walker, president of the Ford Foundation. His support of my book through grants allowed me to travel to Europe numerous times, as well as to several places within the United States to conduct interviews and research.
To the editors of this book, Cecelia Cancellaro and New Press executive editor Marc Favreau, I am so grateful to you both for your commen
ts, questions, strikethroughs, deletions, you name it. Your feedback and attention to detail were invaluable. And thank you to everyone else at The New Press for believing in this book—in particular, publisher Ellen Adler, editorial director Carl Bromley and senior managing editor Maury Botton.
From a personal standpoint, I’m so appreciative of my family and friends who kept me going in more ways than one. Thank you to my wonderful parents, Ben and Jennifer Clark, who’ve encouraged me to write from the moment I picked up a pen. It’s an incredible feeling to have parents who think you’re amazing and highly capable and I thank God for them every day. I also want to thank for their continuous support: my brothers Ben and Steven Clark, sister-in-law Sharon Clark, my aunt Olivia Robinson, and my fairy godmothers Renée Paige and Sande Robinson.
There are a handful of friends who have heard me talk about this book for the last five years. And those same friends have also talked me off a ledge because of this book. Their friendship and encouragement were vital when I hit a dead end, had writer’s block, or just freaked out about anything I could think of at the time: Shellie Anders, Marshall Mitchell, Susan Fales-Hill, Shoshana Guy, Anne Simmons, Yolanda Griffin, Keli Goff, Subrata De, Gillian Miniter, and DeMarco Morgan.
I want to thank all the family and friends of Elinor and Frederick whom I met or spoke to, no matter how briefly, on this journey: Charlotte Tutsek, Hope Taylor, Alethea Felton, Anne Felton, Dina Felton, Stephen Albert, Chan Albert, Jill Williams, Edward Allen, Pamela Ballard, Piroschka Dossi, and Diana Dickson.
In particular, I want to thank Kristina Brandner, the daughter of Charlotte Tutsek, Frederick’s sister. As with Chris, I developed a friendship with Kristina, who was so generous with her time and very honest about her family’s dynamics. Whether we were on one of our long walks through Munich’s Olympic Park, sitting on her botanical-adorned terrace, or at a beer garden, she shared her family’s history and I am so grateful to her for that. Kristina also served as translator when I met with Charlotte. In her mid-nineties, always impeccably dressed, Charlotte welcomed me into her lovely Munich apartment a few times, where we sat in her living room and talked over coffee and sweets served on fine china.
With the timing of this book, sadly, most of the black nurses who served in World War II have passed on. But I managed to meet Elinor’s friend from Camp Florence, Gwyneth Blessitt Moore, and can’t thank her enough for talking to me. She had read my story about Elinor and Frederick in the New York Times and reached out to Chris, who in turn passed on my contact information. She was the only person I had found who witnessed Elinor and Frederick falling in love.
I also had several phone calls with former army nurse Dorothy Jenkins, who served at Camp Papago Park in Arizona during the war. She provided some powerful anecdotes about her time there, and I’m thankful for her openness to share with me.
A tremendous amount of research was required for this book. There are several institutions that I want to acknowledge: the National Archives at College Park in Maryland; the Library of Congress; the New York Public Library; the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture; the German Historical Institute in Washington, D.C., and in London; Amistad Research Center at Tulane University; Moorland-Spingarn Research Center at Howard University; Western Reserve Historical Society in Cleveland; Fondren Library at Southern Methodist University; and the World War II Museum in New Orleans.
Also, a special thank-you to Dan Haacker of the Milton Historical Society for helping me track down all things related to the Powells—birth records, marriage certificates, obituaries, real estate records, and newspaper clippings. Confirming many of the Powell family’s biographical details couldn’t have been done without his help.
This book also took me to Fort Huachuca, in Arizona. It was my first time on a military base and I had no idea where to go and how to search for archives. Thank you to Ret. General Julius Parker for answering my email and putting me in touch with Charles Hancock and Harlan Bradford, two veterans and members of the Southwest Association of Buffalo Soldiers who were stationed at Fort Huachuca decades ago, and who took me on a tour of the installation. Thank you also to Dr. Kate Schmidli of the Fort Huachuca Museum.
Another base I visited was Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, which houses an impressive number of records of military nurses. Thank you to Col. Elizabeth Vane and archivist Carlos Alvarez for helping me sort through the material at the AMEDD Center of History and Heritage at Fort Sam Houston.
I relied on a number of books and papers written by various academics and historians. In some cases, I was able to interview the authors or exchange emails. I’d like to thank the following people in those categories: Professor Matthias Reiss of the University of Exeter; Steve Hoza, a military historian based in Arizona; Professor Charissa Threat of Spelman College; Professor Emeritus Arnold Krammer of Texas A&M; Professor Richard F. Wetzell, research fellow at the German Historical Institute in Washington, D.C.; Professor Heide Fehrenbach of Northern Illinois University; Professor Marvin Dulaney of the University of Texas at Arlington; Barbara Schmitter Heisler, professor emerita of Gettysburg College; Professor David Imhoof of Susquehanna University; and Barbara Brooks Tomblin, author of G.I. Nightingales: The Army Nurse Corps in World War II. And thank you to Sarah Huebinger, who translated and transcribed many of my interviews.
Thank you to Diego Ribadeneira and the New York Times for publishing my article about Elinor and Frederick back in 2013. I’m convinced that having a byline in the Times is what a journalist dreams of.
I also want to thank Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. As an alum, as well as a current adjunct, I know I’m a better reporter and writer for having walked through those prestigious doors as a student many years ago. Before Columbia, I went to the University of Virginia for a graduate program in government. It was rigorous and challenging and helped prepare me for the research process for this book.
I also had the great fortune to attend wonderful schools growing up in Dallas, Texas. Thank you to the Lamplighter School and the Greenhill School—two very special places that made getting an education an extraordinary experience. I truly cherish those years.
I’d like to acknowledge Town & Country magazine, in particular former editor in chief Pamela Fiori, the late editor at large Michael Cannon, and former special correspondent William Norwich—the most wonderful bosses I could ever have. Several years ago when I worked there, as an editor covering social and philanthropic events, I was out on the town representing the magazine several nights a week. I had to talk to different people all the time at events that I usually attended alone—cocktail parties, black-tie galas. It didn’t matter how anxious I felt that night, it didn’t matter how unfriendly or obnoxious my dinner companions were—and thankfully that rarely happened—I had to talk and observe, because that was my job. That experience helped me manage any trepidation I had interviewing people for this book.
And I don’t know if I could have done that job as effectively if it hadn’t been for the four glorious years I spent at my alma mater, Spelman College, where women are taught to be fearless. I received a stellar education there and made wonderful friends, including my sorority sisters of Delta Sigma Theta, Eta Kappa chapter, who are my cheerleaders, therapists, and advisers whenever I need them.
As mentioned above, Enemies in Love required years of research. Given the subject matter, I experienced a range of emotions while writing this book. I started watching documentaries on Hitler; I felt it would help me better understand the world in which Frederick grew up. Night after night, I stared at my television in horror, looking at archival videos of a monster. My stomach knotted up at footage of the Holocaust and I remember my own sadness walking around the grounds of Dachau Concentration Camp during one of my trips to Munich.
I also felt a heaviness reading the oral histories of black nurses and soldiers who honorably served this country during the war while facing habitual humiliation. I am forever grateful for their patriotism and courage.
When I think about Elinor and Frederick falling in love against a backdrop of racism, I admire them even more. I thank them for following their hearts. It was an honor to write their story.
Notes
1. Elinor
1. “Harlem 1900–1940,” New York Public Library, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, digital exhibition, 2002, exhibitions.nypl.org/harlem.
2. U.S. Census Data, Milton, Massachusetts, 1940.
3. Ella Wade and William Powell marriage license, Massachusetts, Town and Vital Records, ancestrylibrary.com; Alethea Felton interview, April 7, 2013.
4. Alethea Felton interview, April 7, 2013.
5. Milton Historical Society, Massachusetts Historical Commission, drawing and history of 114 Granite Place.
6. Milton Record, May 24, 1924, 3.
7. Albert Kendall Teele, The History of Milton, Mass., 1640 to 1887 (Boston: Rockwell and Churchill, 1887), 31–40; “Town of Milton,” www.townofmilton.org/about/pages/history.
8. “Walter Baker & Co. General History,” Dorchester Atheneum, May 17, 2005, www.dorchesteratheneum.org/page.php?id=553.
9. Suffolk Resolves, 1774.
10. U.S. Census Data, Boston, 1880.
11. “Population Trends in Boston: 1640–1990,” Boston History and Architecture, www.iboston.org/mcp.php?pid=popFig.; Mark R. Schneider, Boston Confronts Jim Crow 1890–1920 (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1997), 4.
12. Isabel Wilkerson, The Warmth of Other Suns (New York: Vintage Books, 2010).
13. James Oliver Horton and Lois Horton, Black Bostonians: Family Life and Community Struggle in the Antebellum North (New York: Holmes & Meier, 1999), 73–74.
14. Horton and Horton, Black Bostonians, 158–159; Mark R. Schneider, Boston Confronts Jim Crow, 1890–1920.