Me at age seven, in the “secret” garden at my grandfather’s house, Thorncroft, also known as Henry Ware House, in Martha’s Vineyard.
Thorncroft.
My grandmother Louise Stevens Ware.
A poster from the Stork Club, 1937. (Photo by Herbert Mitchel)
A photo of me at the opening night party for Leonard Sillman’s New Faces on Broadway, printed in the New York Evening Journal.
Paul at Wild Acres in Martha’s Vineyard.
Photo by a young George Hurrell. I didn’t like my fat stomach so I penciled in a better line.
A publicity photo in which I’m wearing my Paul Flato engagement ring.
Paul’s mother, Sarah Getty.
On the terrace of my apartment in Rome, with a friend and Maria, my maid, who has made us lunch, 1939.
On my terrace in Rome, during the war, in 1940. I’m holding an American flag and the Donald Duck that Paul gave me.
With Paul at the Beverly Hills Hotel on my first trip home from Italy.
“11 Out of Every 12 Night Club Marriages End in Reno”: Paul and me at the Stork Club, from an unidentified newspaper, 1939.
“The girl he left behind.” This was taken the day after we married.
Our wedding announcement in the New York Herald Tribune, November 17, 1939.
My teacher Madame Cahier calls me “highly talented” in the New York Telegraph, May 9, 1940.
My teacher Marchesi’s last performance in London at seventy-five years old, 1938.
My journalist’s passport, issued in Italy, 1940.
Signed declaration that I was of the Aryan race (“razza ariana”), issued by the State Department in Rome.
My lover Kostya.
On our way to the ship that would take us home. With Livingston Pomeroy, 1942.
In Siena under house arrest, 1942.
In Siena, under house arrest with fellow reporter John Cianfarra, 1942.
Secret police erned correspondents across the Piazza del Popolo, Editor and Publisher, December 1942.
Paul being rushed by reporters on the Conte di Savoia after he made his oil deal with the Russians, November 23, 1939.
“Oilman J. P. Getty Sells to Russians,” the New York Mirror, November 24, 1939.
“Liner with Diplomats Arrives from Lisbon”: The Swedish Drottningholm, the ship that brought us home. I slept on the deck for most of the trip.
My brother greets me as I disembark the Drottningholm, Newsreel, June 7, 1942.
“Mrs. Getty Tells of Privations in Italian Jail,” the New York Herald Tribune, June 7, 1942.
Photo from my profile in Time, written upon my return.