I’ve reached critical mass of research. I have collected one too many tidbits, to the point that one anecdote that won’t fit into the book.
In February 1917, Blanca’s brother Billy Errazuriz attended the Pan-American Aeronautics Exposition in New York City as a Chilean representative. One of the expo’s hosts, listed on the welcoming committee, was John’s cousin Maurice Heckscher. This is after the ugly and painfully public divorce, when John and Blanca are living in separate homes and splitting custody of their little boy. It’s just 6 months before the murder.
By the end of the same year, these two men—Billy and Maurice—would glare at each other from opposite aisles of the court room. But on this day, the only thing on their minds were the marvelous new airplanes on display. They said hello. They chatted about the Wright Brothers and Charles Lindbergh. They fantasized about the day when people might use “airbuses” on a regular basis, perhaps replacing steamships for travel across the ocean. They shook hands and wished each other well.
I look back through the lens of time at the exposition’s program schedule (thank you, Google books) and my heart flutters at the irony. You poor bastards… You both had no idea of what the future held.
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