Posts Tagged ‘Eugenia Hunt’

Jeana’s day in divorce court

September 10th, 2017 Comments off

[I found this in a steno book from around 1951. The photo is from the 1940’s  ~ Sperry Hunt]

Judge Hunt and Jeana 40sRestaurant

My husband is a judge. I was waiting to have lunch with him. He was trying a divorce case. He denied the divorce, and added, looking straight at me, “Young man you have had nothing worse happen to you than any of the rest of us.” The whole court room howled.

[Click below to open the image.]

Jeana’s Day in Court

Eugenia Hunt’s advice on having a happy marriage

September 10th, 2017 Comments off

[From Eugenia’s steno pad dated November 2, 1952. The photo is from the 1940s ~ Sperry Hunt]

Judge Hunt and Jeana 40sRestaurant

Marriage is a  remarkable institution. It’s full of more fun and trouble that you can imagine. But if you make up your mind to have more fun, you’ll have less trouble.

Make it your business to keep him happy and you know what[?] He’ll make you happy. Worry him good and plenty and you’ll reap your reward.

That’s my best advice.


[Click below for scan.]

Jeana Advice on Marriage



Eugenia and Wilmer’s First House at 2920 San Felipe, Houston

November 27th, 2016 Comments off


Judge Wilmer Hunt bought this house for his bride, Jeana.

The judge claimed that when he showed her the living room, she said, “So, this is where we will entertain our guests.”

He nodded and took her into the dining room.

She said, “So, this is where we will eat our dinner.”

He nodded and took her into the kitchen.

She frowned and asked, “What happens in here?”


Jeana’s conundrum: Take a husband or paints to France.

November 25th, 2016 1 comment


In 1975 Jeana wrote:

Dear Ones. The terrible week of decision. This has happened many times and I have yet to come out of ahead. What to take on an extended trip to a foreign country, where I really want to work. Of course the first selection is whether to take a husband. This is an impossible decision. He will go. I will enjoy him. I will not get as much done as I would like to. The second selection is paints. I go to a country where there are thousands of artists. Last time I went to France I decided to leave my paints and other supplies here and buy a small, fresh supply there.  Paris is immense. It was icy cold and my French is always scared, so the supplies I purchase were to say the least inadequate. So I shall take them with me. On the ship going over the weight will not matter, but we are flying back. So, I shall take an adequate amount and use them up and only return with the finished products. Voila! Then comes the clothes. We go over on the Queen Elizabeth which is sailing on the 21st of July. We dress for dinner every night. Then we will be in the country in France where it will not matter so that means an extra suitcase of clothes, which they will weigh on the plane when we return. So I have decided to take caftans which will serve as dress-up clothes and country clothes. I will fix those French for over-weight. I think that they should count the weight of the person.  Wilmer [husband] certainly should not be allowed as many pounds as I, who have so systematically shed so many pounds, that soon I have to have y face lifted.

I have made Daddy [husband] a caftan out of blue denim and it makes him look like an old sheik. All he needs is a wrapped white turban above his white beard. It was like making a tent. I have sewn seams and sewn seams. I think he needs a girdle.

Love and kisses,


[Eugenia Howard Hunt]

Jeana portraits circa 1960 at 526 W. Friar Tuck, Houston

November 20th, 2016 Comments off


The portrait on the left was done by another artist. Jeana did a portrait of her as well.

The photograph at the right is of Jeana in her bedroom with her garden behind her. The house was at 526 W. Friar Tuck in Houston.

Jeana recalls what her brother Philo said about being a POW

November 6th, 2016 Comments off
Philo and Mary early 1940s.

Philo and Mary early 1940s.

In a 1970’s journal Jeana wrote about the importance of simplicity.

After my brother Philo had returned from being a prisoner of war, mother planned a picnic. The bustling was noisy and lengthy. Suddenly Phil said, “Prison was so uncomplicated. I had forgotten all of this.” For a moment he almost looked unhappy.

Jeana – Letter to Father Aspiazu

October 11th, 2015 Comments off

Jeana created may religious works. The following is a draft of a 1954 letter Jeana wrote to Father Jose Maria Azpiazu, pastor of the parish of St. John the Baptist in San Juan, Texas. I’ve paced a link at the bottom of the letter. Click on it to learn the history of the church.

Note that this is a draft letter only. I haven’t found a copy of the actual letter as yet. The letter is a small window into who Jeana was as an artist.



Dear Father Aspiazu,

Yesterday, Mr. Hamilton Brown, Houston architect called me, that he had heard that you were building a church in San Juan, and would be needing some murals.

I would like very much to apply for the job, as I have begun doing sketches for just such a thing for the past two years. Many of which I can send you in photographs. Or I can come down and talk to you and bring the sketches with me.

I have painted for twenty years and have had experience as a teacher in several art colonies.

I can do casein, oil, or paint directly on plaster – or work in plastic which is fairly new and very beautiful. I would like so much to do thes and would charge you minimum because it’s for the church.

My references are Mr. Hamilton Brown 2017 W. Gray(acting Pres. of Allied Arts in Houston), Mr. Paul Elliott – architect and designer in the Contemporary Art Museum of Houston.

[Eugenia Hunt]
Click her to read about the church at San Juan

From Eugenia Hunt’s 1987 Diary

October 4th, 2015 4 comments

Jeana 1980s


The following is one of many of Jeana’s travel journals that I am lucky enough to have. I’ll be putting up excerpts from time to time. I thought you all might enjoy this one.



May 1987

Eugenia Howard Hunt
1317 Spyglass
Austin, Texas

Shell House

Here I am out at the Lake Travis at 809 Mariner. Rented my town house in Austin to Meg Ryan, a young Disney star. I stayed around at friends houses for a while because I felt this place was too alone. Ledi’s [?], Ella [Watson’s] and Dorothy [Barnett’s]. But Poppy and I decided to come on out. He certainly isn’t much of a watch dog but friendly. The Lake is a miracle of changing lights, and in this weather – huge clouds, dripping rain – clearing to sparkle than back again. This 29th of May it rained all night and is at it this morning. That soft soothing surreal note as it patters on glass, concrete and trees. The trees are whirling in the wind, but it doesn’t seem noisy just snug inside.

Dr. Bill Lockhart’s son-in-law called early this morning to say Bill is dead. Just after the lightning flashed and I felt as though I saw a great pine fall. He was always master of his situation right or wrong – and he was a fine, fine doctor. Every time no one else could fix me up I’d call Alpine or go up there. His wife Laura-belle is one of my dearest friends. I do hope this won’t be too hard on her. She’s such a loving lady. And if anyone [who] criticized Bill, he was an enemy forever.

I called Grainger to tell him about it. They want money for a heart machine in Alpine. I think I’ll send it to Laurabelle instead. She’ll need it for he did so much charity he couldn’t have made much money in his practice. And there are so many expenses after a loved one dies.

Jean Garwood called. I am staying at the Stephen F Austin [Hotel] with her for the Garwood wedding tomorrow nite, in Austin.

I arrived at the hotel – and had a large corner room. First T.V. I’d seen in weeks. The Lake has been so quiet, reflective and relaxing.

Jean calls hysterical. “Be ready at 6:45.” I was and Jean too in the lobby awaiting here son-in-law. He was ten minutes late, but she was quiet. We picked up Ellen Garwood, Jean’s mother-in-law. I praised Ellen for her T.V. appearance from Washington D.C. and the money to the Contras affair. She was steady straight and unafraid. She said however she would rather have me believe she was right then how she presented it. Of course I could say nothing. Giving private money to a war this country doesn’t approve – and then have the money disappear. She was a pigeon. But I admire her reasons. She honestly thinks she’s saving the world from the communists. Poor Mr. Colorado – Coors knew he’d gaffed.

The wedding was in St. Matthews, a new Episcopal Church, north. Twelve bridesmaids – They kept coming. But they were lovely to see. The bride and groom were well-matched and in love. The storms threatened but we seemed to miss them. Back to hotel – mezzanine has a mirrored ballroom opening to the above trees over Congress Avenue. The cool rain washed everything dripping and clean floated in. Lights and food nicely reflected in the mirrors – a dance orchestra, worlds of young people and a few of us older ones. Sam Dunham III was there. He danced with me and made my evening. The layered cake was half way to the ceiling and wreathed with freesias, summer rain and sweet flowers.

Sunday Ledi met me for a lunch at the buffet at the hotel – Too much non-simple food plus champagne. She and I can talk a blue streak about life, people and happenings.

Back to the lake after picking up yesterday’s mail. This sunset for the evening was Hell in the sky sweeping over the lake under ominous clouds. It swept from left of west to the middle of north. The radio talked about it – since several people have marveled. My old friend Bobbie Yount, the master carpenter said his wife said, “Bobbie, look outside and he though what now” He said, “He never saw such splendor.” Took pictures of it.

The next morning took pictures of the dawn – gold and gaudy pink. This morning – a piece of rainbow against an almost black sky.

June 2, 1987

I awakened early. Took my exercises – breakfast – wrote checks for mailing – cleaned house, showered – and was out by ten. A wild rain storm caught me. I had to pull of the road. All kinds of errands ahead. Cleaners. Travel agent, Maude Anderson’s for sweater and lunch. Rain – rain – rain. It’s 9 PM. It’s still raining. Steven Franden came out and got me for supper.

Sunday, the 7th of June [1987]

I am in my second Bermuda night. I feel as though I am in a civilized Crete. Wouldn’t they be amazed over that conclusion? The Greeks!

The water is soft, transparent and quiet. A Ryder moon – mysterious yet is illuminating. [Reference to American artist Albert Pinkham Ryder?] The air is divine after Austin’s deluge! I ran around in the rain for days until everything reached flood stage then like a rat in a trap. Took poor Poppy to the vet’s to be left for 2 weeks.

Spent the night at Ledi’s to be nearer in. She locks one in like a jailer – bars everywhere, key locks and bolts. I think I fear fire more than burglars.

Houston was wonderful. Stayed with Georgia. Doris Childress took me to the De Menil Museum opening. A tent-like a house with rooms and windows – delicious food. But first the crowds outside – the speech by Dominique was warm, tender and humble. She was never that way before exactly. Always poetic but not humble. The museum – perfect: simple, direct and bright – I would have liked a few more American artists – but after all! She is French and she had it made and furnished it with her collection. The Magrittes were fabulous. Magritte had no new technique – He used a simple direct almost colored drawing bent. He painted poetry – clouds were his symbols – mountains and rocks also.

A Story About Our Dear Robin McCorquodale from Heather Wren Welder

July 22nd, 2014 Comments off

[I] remember how whenever Robin began to speak, we would all listen but with our mouths open in rapt & adoring attention ( my mother one time had to tell me to close my mouth while staring adoringly at Robin). A year or so ago, my Beeville book club invited Robin to come to visit and talk about her books, how she came up with ideas, where & who were her muses and etc. My living room was filled and crowded and as Robin spoke, oh my gosh, I realized, everyone in the room was staring at Robin, spellbound and…with their mouths wide open, in absolute rapture!!

Later when I laughed and told Robin & Bill, Robin, in characteristic fey amazement, played her, as we all can attest, straight man role, unbelieving what I had said. I can hear her now, ” oh Heather!” I have received so many calls from my friends in Bville who have heard that I had lost my dearly beloved Robin. She touched so many lives with her sweetness and zest.