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Jackie's whole world crumbled about her. She tried to believe that this terrible thing that had happened to her was only something she'd dreamed in the night
THE STORY
WAS a very small part of the
busy, exciting city that was Washington in the months just before Pearl Harbor, but for the first time in my humdrum life I had the intoxicating sensation of really living. For within one day I had met two men — one romantic and famous, the other naive and oddly appealing. And both of them told me they loved me.
Dean Hunter was one — the famous Dean Hunter whose voice and personality are such an important part of radio and movies. Tom Trumble was the other — an ordinary private in Uncle Sam's Army, whose untrained but sincere style of singing had attracted the attention of my boss, Lieutenant Colonel Wilson. It was Col. Wilson's job to produce the weekly broadcast called Hiya, Soldier for the entertainment of the boys in training camps all over the country, and as fate would have it, Dean Hunter and Tom Trumble came to Washington to be on the same program.
I was one of Col. Wilson's assistants, which was why I met both Dean and Tom. Dean laid violent siege to my heart almost from the very first, and of course I couldn't help responding, he was so handsome, so sure of himself, so charming. Tom was different — more humble and a little pitiful. I couldn't take him very seriously.
On the broadcast, Tom made a
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terrible blunder. The excitement of being on a nationwide program affected him so much that he broke down in the middle of his song, and the broadcast was saved only by Dean's quick action in stepping to the microphone and finishing for him. It was typical of the two men that Tom's honest emotion caused a catastrophe, and Dean's cool poise saved the situation.
But I forgot Tom and his mistake after the broadcast, for Dean whisked me away on a thrilling midnight ride — a ride which ended in our marriage that very night.
It was the kind of adventure every girl dreams of, something straight out of a story book. Reality didn't return until the next day, when we went back to Washington. Dean asked me to keep the marriage a secret for a while, and I agreed. At Col. Wilson's office Tom Trumble was waiting for me, to say good-bye before he caught his train back to camp. There was only an hour left before the train was due to leave, but in that hour he told me he loved me. I wanted to tell him it was hopeless, but he wouldn't let me.
And so he went away, not knowing I was married to Dean. I walked back to the hotel where Dean was staying. There a terrible disappointment waited for me. Dean had gone to New York, leaving only a note saying he'd been suddenly called away, and that he'd miss me and be seeing me soon.
SOMETHING very unexpected has happened."
Partly, I was hurt — partly angry. And fear was there, too. My husband of a day — oh, less than a day — had hurried out of Washington and back to New York. And he had left me with no explanation but the little note which said something unexpected had happened.
Oh, I knew then how great a streak of cruelty Dean Hunter must have. Cruelty — or thoughtlessness. And, as my anger died away, leaving a strange feeling of emptiness
RADIO MIRROR
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