althea
ELDER

In my mind, Althea is forever my grandfather’s younger sister—ice clinking in her glass, plumes of smoke rising from a cigarette holder, two angry little daschunds snapping at her feet—a glamorous Miss Havisham, all alone in a grand house by the sea. But my child-memory of her—including that 1940s movie star voice— is limited. And so, I’ve turned to those who knew her to flesh out my recollection. Through the eyes of a lovesick paramour:

“I must have conjured you from a dream.  An angel, a devil, something in between, glimmering like a diamond in a handful of dust.”

Here she is: a dream girl of impressive excess, maddeningly inaccessible, ineffably elegant.

She had a haughty charm—”an ice queen even as a schoolgirl”—and a certain soignée. Mostly, she’s remembered as beautiful, willful, an outsized character in the drama of her life. “A one-woman opera, the heroine and the crone—and by crone I mean mad witch—and every character between.” Another is a bit more generous, “I’d say she was more enchantress than mad witch, every head would turn when she walked down the street.”

Born in 1917, Althea spent the first half of her life in New York City, where, with her golden looks, unflappable confidence, and an early devotion to the performing arts, she began a career on Broadway that spanned nearly two decades.

She spent her twilight years in Newport, where, like Violet Sr. before her, she took up residence at Eldersea on Ocean Drive. It was during these years that she threw herself into another lifelong passion, antiques, and opened a shop on Bellevue avenue called“Cabbages and Kings.”

Enigma, diva, manic pixie dream girl, femme fatale, sweet as pie, mad as hell our Scorpion stargirl always got the last word, and here it is” you don’t get to know.”