USD Magazine Fall 2007

Tiffany, when they served as pages that summer. She figures they made their own impression when they walked into the intimidating store.“It’s very quiet, and there are not many people walking around. I’m sure we were noticed.” But for Hart, it was Judy Garland’s appearance at Tiffany that made the biggest impression — despite the starlet’s unexpectedly diminutive size. “She was just sort of girlish,” Hart remembers. “She wasn’t much older than me. She was so recognizable. We heard her laughing first, and boy you knew — from all the movies, you knew that voice.” There’s no question that summer changed Hart. And it was her friendship with Garrett that was the greatest influence. “We were on our own, and we had a lot of things we had to figure out together. I was so struck by her very positive attitude of being able to accomplish things. And nothing seemed to stand in her way. Ever since then, I always think, ‘Now, what would Marty do?’” Hart and Garrett remained friends through the years; Hart credits Garrett with helping her remember many of the details, and they would talk often about the response to the book. But Garrett died in June.“I’m so saddened,” Hart says.“After the book came out she would say, ‘I saw the book here’or ‘My friend said this.’ We kept sharing the publicity or news. I really miss that because now when I find out things I think, ‘Oh, I’m not going to be able to call her up and share that. I was so used to hearing her voice.” Amazing as that summer was, there is oh, so much more to Hart’s life. A professional cellist, she has a lifelong passion for music. “Because I’ve done it all my life I can’t remember when I didn’t. I think my mother taught me piano as soon as I could reach the piano keys. I can’t imagine life without music.” The cello is her instrument of choice. She was part of the San Diego Symphony and performed with Sammy Davis Jr., Peggy Lee and Nat King Cole, among others. Since retiring from USD, she has kept busy playing in string quartets. “She’s a very fine cellist,”says Henry Kolar, also a former chairman of USD’s Fine Arts Department, who has played in string quartets with Hart for years. As for the book, Kolar appreciates how Hart recreated old New York.“It is a wonderful story, and I think the book is terrific. I hope she sells jillions of them. It’s a very warm kind of a book.” Hart can’t imagine life without her music. “If you were tired before you started playing, when you finished you felt so completely refreshed. It’s an unbelievable feeling. I don’t know what happens when you play. There’s something rejuvenating about playing. I think it keeps you very young.” That, and the memories of a magical summer in NewYork City.

Being on their own in NewYork City in the summer of 1945 was quite a thrill for two girls from Iowa. In this excerpt from Summer at Tiffany , Marjorie Hart recalls one particularly memorable day. Over amurmur of voices, I heard someone laugh—a familiar laugh. Was I dreaming? My heart racedwhen I looked up as the room turned quiet. Judy Garland was entering the Fifth Avenue revolving door with an elegant-looking man. Of course—Vincente Minnelli! They were laugh- ing, as if they were sharing the world’s best joke. Mr. Hutchison stepped forward to greet themand whisked the famous couple into the VIP private chamber behind the diamond counter. For a crazy moment I wanted to run up and say, “Hi, Judy! I’mone of your biggest fans!” I could see myself, sitting across from them in that special room, chatting about the oldmovies, the Andy Hardy comedies with Mickey Rooney, Judge Hardy, and Aunt Milly. What fun that would be. Instead, I waited patiently at the stationery counter for the salesman to finish writing his order. He had been sorting handcrafted vellum envelopes according to size in neat stacks. I thought he had missed see- ing her, when he whispered, “She looks very young, doesn’t she?” Young? Judy Garland is my age! “Younger than her husband,” I allowed. He stared at me, surprised. “You mean that’s her husband?” Had he been living on the moon? “They were married last week—he’s Vincente Minnelli, the movie director,” I explained. “They’re here on their honeymoon—and have a penthouse on Sutton Place.” He made little clucking sounds as he nodded his head. Apparently, he’d missed the news of their glamorous wedding. Not us. Marty and I’d dash to the lobby of the St. Regis Hotel during lunch hour to read the lat- est. Photoplay had a breathtaking pickture of them—Minnelli kissing Judy at their wedding; a pretty, smiling Judy holding a bouquet of huge pink peonies. She looked exquisitely lovely wearing a pale blue-gray jer- sey gown and an organdy bonnet — La Bohème style—set back on her head to show her long reddish-brown hair. Not since the Duke of Windsor married “that woman” had I been so swept up by a love affair. “They were just married in Beverly Hills, in Judy’s mother’s garden,” I told the salesman, “and guess who gave her away? The head of MGM —Louis B. Mayer!” More intriguing to me was that Ira Gershwin had been Vincente Minnelli’s best man. With that cast of notables, the wedding music must have been exceptional. I combed through stacks of magazines at the St. Regis to find out what “their song” might have been. For a start, one of her favorites among Gershwin’s was “Embraceable You,” judging from her recordings. But what about “Love Walked Right In”? Ira Gershwin’s lyrics would have been perfect, I thought, humming them to myself.

Love walked right in and drove the shadows away Love walked right in and brought my sunniest day — When love walked in with you.

How romantic — that is, if anyone would have the nerve to sing in that crowd. If I had been included in that VIP room, I would have asked. Instead, I was standing in the opposite corner, straining my ears. We heard whoops of laughter — that laugh as she walked along the yellow brick road. What was so funny?

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