Tag: Robin

A Celebration in Alpine

Robin, Grainger, Sperry and Lalu
Robin, Grainger, Sperry and Lalu at Reata Restaurant in Alpine Sept. 21, 1996

If you’ve been reading this blog,  you’ll know what a special place Alpine, Texas is to our family. Alpine was our mother’s artist retreat and our father’s vacation home. It was where my sisters spent many of their summers making friends among both the town folk and the ranchers as well. It served as my brother’s respite from the terrible summer asthma he suffered as a boy. It was in Alpine that Grainger got his masters, and his wife Barbara, her bachelors. And it was there that my childhood friend Mary Bell Lockhart and I roamed the hills and streets, and our imaginations thrived.

It was in the dark, in the rear seats of the college auditorium, that I watched Grainger and his classmates rehearse and perform Shakespeare’s Henry IV. (Grainger had the title role, in fact.) It was during those performances, as I repeatedly viewed the follies of Sir John Falstaff, the courage of young Hotspur and the coming of age of Prince Hal, that the seed of my film script Texas Dick was planted. (I’ll have more on that in other posts.) It was my attempt at producing the script that drew the four siblings to Alpine on this occasion in 1996. More importantly, it was a celebration of our connection to Alpine, our shared affection for William Shakespeare, and our deep love for one another. These were three of the happiest days of my life. You can see it in all of our faces. I have footage of us reading the script and romping around Alpine and Marfa. I will share clips with all y’all later.

Letter from Jeana to Lalu March 11, 1965

Click below to open up a scanned letter from Jeana to Lalu.

Jeana Letter to Lalu March 11 1965

In the letter she talks about meeting Prince Charles, Sperry coming home from Fountain Valley with his friend from Bogota, Brady’s christening, Roy’s birthday and Daddy’s blues. We lived in this house between the one at 526 W. Friar Tuck (1951-1964) and The River Oaks High Rise on Westheimer just south of Buffalo Speedway (1966-1968). From the apartment she and Dad moved to 900 W. Red Bud Trail in Austin (1968-1983?).

Hunt Home 1964-5. (After Friar Tuck) 1163 (?) Bissonnet St. Houston. 2 blocks from the Houston Museum of Art
Hunt Home 1964-5. (After Friar Tuck) 1163 (?) Bissonnet St. Houston. 2 blocks from the Houston Museum of Art

Below is the apartment. This is the north side. We were on the west near the top. A decade letter Robin and Malcolm moved into a house on Locke Lane, a block behind the Google camera tacking this photograph.

Hunt Apt River Oaks High Rise Westheimer and Buffalo SpeedwayHouston
Hunt Apt River Oaks High Rise Westheimer and Buffalo Speedway, Houston

Angus’ Story About How Dr. Howard Became Dr. Howard

Dr. Alfred Philo Howard circa 1918Robin McCorquodale

Angus’ story:

My mother [Robin Hunt McCorquodale] said there were a few pin hole scars on one of Dal’s fingers.

In his mother’s fingertips

As a child Dal was playing with a meat cleaver.

He cut off one of his fingers, clean off, not a deep gouge, not a partial tear; right through.

Below the nail, bone and all.

Before, one boy; then a boy and fingertip.

Dal’s mother.  That would not do.

… Dal’s mother had decided that Dal was going to be a surgeon.

Don’t ask the child, ask the mother. (Aunt Heather has told me that over and over).

Surgeon – ten intact digits required.

Child, finger, needle, and thread.

Large stiches with thick thread first.

Small stiches with thin thread next.

Following in her fingertips, not her footsteps;

Dal became a surgeon.

A note about Robin from Jennie Kiesling

Yes, I feel cheated of the chance to make cakes!   That traditional started the year after Uncle Malcolm died.  I wanted to bring some light into Robin’s life, but over the years those parties at her house probably did even more for me.  When they ended, it seemed to me that Robin had become happy enough in her own life that she no longer needed the annual visitation.  Although I missed the parties, it was great to know that Robin was thriving–as she did right up to the end.  Indeed, Happy Birthday, Aunt Robin!

A Robin story from Campbell Wren

The one I remember was the summer your [Sperry’s] parents went to Europe and we, my father, Clark, mother, Florence, sister, Heather, me, Campbell and Pittle Luppy, our mongrel dog, moved into your parents home to watch over your sister, Robin and your brother, Grainger while they traveled.  That must have been about 1956.  Pittle Luppy was called that in honor of Spoonerisms(my father’s favorite word game) and the fact the Little Puppy peed everytime she got excited.
Robin was studying singing at the time and was always practicing singing her scales in her room.
As a joke I would put Pittle Luppy outside Robin’s room and start her howling when Robin started practicing.
It was very irritating for Robin because she did not know I was the one starting the dog howling each time.  But she would come out of her room to find the dog sitting there howling away.  Being Robin and always so nice; her remark was always, “The little dog just loves my music”.

A message from Maureen in Seattle about Robin

Dear Sperry,
I so enjoyed Robin and her irrepressibly sense of humor, was delighted that herself and had a wonderful few years in which they both wrote and shared poetry.
I have fond memories of our visit in Seattle with Robin, Amy and Bill, and the time awe spent at my home, at that time on Mercer Island and really feel a huge loss at the passing of your lovely sister.
Maureen