At 17, Truman Capote ‘just wanted to get out of Greenwich and get to New York’.
At 17, Truman Capote ‘just wanted to get out of Greenwich and get to New York’. The local high school paper may have provided his first byline, but the dazzle of the bright lights, big city proved too much. Over half a century on I found myself only too pleased to be reversing Truman’s adolescent trajectory. Central Station was feverishly hot as I bought my ticket for a break away from the humidity of summer in the city. Leaving Manhattan to simmer in its juices, I joyfully barrelled upstate on the Metro-North Railroad.
After only 40 minutes we rolled over the state line into Connecticut and pulled into Greenwich, the southernmost town of New England. First impressions are hardly inviting: the station is a concrete strip with little to advertise it as the gateway to the pleasure dome of the rich and famous. But then, I guess, people have their own drivers here. Greenwich is known primarily for one thing: wealth. The hedge fund capital of America, it’s steeped in greenbacks and frequently ranked in the top clutch of the most affluent communities in the country. George Bush Snr grew up and was schooled here and high-profile residents past and present include Mel Gibson, Donald Trump, Jack Nicholson, Diana Ross and Richard Blumenthal, attorney general, all of whom have enjoyed the town’s reputation for privacy.
It’s also home to the marvellous Marjories. I was to be the guest of my friend Marjorie ‘Madge’ Webb and her mother Marjorie H. Webb. This feisty blonde duo were only too happy to provide the ‘out and out’ on their home town. Madge arrived in the requisite aircon-cooled SUV and drove me to the edge of town to the Webbs’ ‘cottage’.
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