The first time I saw Wuthering Heights—the 1939 version starring Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon—was probably in 1958 or 1959. It was at a drive-in theater in Sudbury. And it was raining—it started to rain during the film. I don’t know why I remember that. I was alone. I’d borrowed my dad’s car. It must’ve been a double feature or triple feature. I can’t imagine that I would’ve gone by myself to see Wuthering Heights. But I just fell in love with the story. I tried to read the book but found the dialect very challenging. I never tired of watching the film, though.
I showed it to Jean when we were dating. She loved it too.
“Why don’t we go there?” I said.
“Where?” she said.
“To England,” I said. “To the Brontës’ home.”
It was located in the town of Haworth, in Yorkshire. It had been turned into a museum in the 1920s. So we went and had a wonderful time. We walked the moors in a pouring rainstorm and came across a beautiful abandoned sheep barn. Using a rock, we carved our names into one of the stone walls. Yes, I was responsible for graffiti in Yorkshire. It wouldn’t be the last time.
After we got married, Jean and I went back to England. After we had Matthew, we returned, and we carved his name into the barn alongside ours. And after we had Emily, we made the trip yet again and carved her name into the barn.
In 2019, we went back once more, for Jean’s birthday. We stayed in an enormous manor in Yorkshire set on twenty-four hundred acres. We visited the ruined Cistercian monasteries at Fountains Abbey and Rievaulx. I wasn’t feeling well enough to walk the moors this time. However, the kids flew in and surprised Jeanie. Before we left, Emily said to her mom, “Let me see your phone to make sure you’ll be able to make international calls when you’re over there.” But what she did was activate the tracking device on Jean’s phone so that she would know exactly where we were at any time while we were over there. Emily flew from LA to New York to meet Matthew, and the two of them flew to Manchester, rented a car, and drove to Haworth. Jeanie and I were visiting the Brontë museum, and all of a sudden the kids came walking up the stairs and greeted us.
Perfect timing. Tears. It was wonderful.