About Peggy Stebbins Nelson

Peggy Stebbins Nelson was born in August, 1912. Although I am her eldest child, I cannot remember the exact date. I think it was August 8th. That I cannot recall the precise date is very telling: my mother was a mysterious woman, unstoried, without apparent history. For the four of us, it was as though she had always been there, or just lately arrived, a very old soul who needed no time-line to augment her presence.

I know my mother through my memories and through her poetry. Beyond that, she seemed to have no ancestry, except her letters from Uncle George Southern, who died in the Civil War. I cannot even be sure how Uncle George was related to my mother, although I believe that he is probably her great grandfather. The one thing I can say for certain is that there is a packet of letters in our possession that was written by a relative who fought in the Civil War. She never mentioned him, although she did use “Southern” as stage name, in addition to “Stebbins.” But I am getting ahead of myself.

So here is what I do know:

My mother was born in Hell’s Kitchen in 1912. Her father was a carpenter/stage-hand who loved vaudeville. Her mother was a housewife, the oldest of four, who had done more child-rearing than she cared to recall. So my mother was an only child with solitary memories.

At some point during my mother’s childhood the family moved to Greenwich Village. Where, I have no idea. I know my mother spent pleasant summers at her grandfather’s farm, somewhere in the Catskill’s. There are pictures that attest to that.

When she was sixteen, my mother was persuaded by her father to cash in on her remarkable beauty. She left high school and became a show girl. She was an Earl Carroll show-girl and was also in the Ziegfeld production of “Show Boat.” We have lots of pictures of those days too.

My mother’s best friend was Roberta H, a chorus dancer.  Roberta lived until almost the age of 100 and told me many stories of her adventures, as well as my mom’s adventures.  Roberta’s boyfriend was called Trigger Mikey.  He was Mike Coppola, Lucky Luciano’s hit man.  There were speculations that a far more famous Coppola actually changed the pronunciation of his last name to avoid uncomfortable association with Roberta’s notorious mob figure boyfriend.  The famous Coppola put the accent on the first syllable, while Mikey, according to Roberta, put the accent on the second syllable.  Roberta said that long after she and Mikey were no longer seeing one another, he still paid her an “allowance.”  She did not say how long that allowance payment was extended.

Roberta also said that my mother had a boyfriend, who was an associate of Mikey Coppola.  Roberta thought my mother’s boyfriend was a lawyer or legal counselor.  She said, “He was different, because he did not carry a gun.”

My mother was engaged to this person and had kept the large emerald cut diamond ring and some fur coats that were used by us as blankets when the coal furnace fire fire was banked at night.  Years later, she sold the diamond ring, which I had never seen her wear, to buy a piano for my sister.

Unlike Trigger Mikey, my mother’s boyfriend had a much less colorful first name, long forgotten by me, and I never knew his last name.  Roberta, in her fashion, could be very discreet.  Although she spoke openly about Mikey, she avoided direct references to my mother’s boyfriend.  However, she did tell me the story to how their engagement was broken.

One day, most likely in the early 1930’s, my mother called her “lawyer” boyfriend at his office.  There was a new secretary and she evidently had not been prepared for the “tangled web” of her boss’s social network.  My mother asked to speak to him.  The secretary said he was out of the office because his wife was ill.  Mommy hung up, broke off the engagement, left her show girl life, finished her high school diploma and applied for admission to Columbia University’s School of General Studies.  She was accepted into the program, and earned straight A’s.  I still have her report cards.

Just after her graduation, my mother met my father in the library at Columbia. He was finishing his Master’s degree in English Literature and had been recently drafted into the army.  He saw my mother and asked the librarian about her.  My mother agreed to go on a date with him because she felt sorry for him!  My father must have been very persuasive, because the courtship was whirlwind and very soon afterwards they were married, he was off to Fort Dix, I was waiting in the wings, and then he was heading off to invade Normandy.

Mommy was a housewife for the remainder of her life, but never complained about feeling unfilfilled.  She was sustained by her love for her four children, her husband, and her cherished friends.  She wrote poetry for all of her adult life.  Such intense creativity, in addition to her endless curiosity and enthusiasm, sustained her, as well.  One of her happiest days was when she became a grandmother in 1970. Shortly after that she became terminally ill with cancer and died in July, 1972.    N.DiF.

Here is a picture of our mother in Show Boat. She is at the far right.

My sister Dana became curious about this photo of Mommy this year. She contacted her friend, Jane Klain, who works for the Museum of Television and Radio. Jane, in turn, contacted Miles Kreuger, president of the Institute of the American Musical, Inc., in Los Angeles. Miles Kreuger is the author of a book entitled Show Boat.

Here’s what Miles Kreuger had to say about the photo in a letter to Jane Klain, dated March 13, 2000:

One glance at this scene from “Show Boat” reveals that we are in the Trocadero nightclub for the New Year’s Eve performance where Magnolia sings “After the Ball.” The setting is clearly the original Joseph Urban design, as you could determine by a look at the original set design drawing in my Show Boat book on P. 46.

One glance at the dresses worn by the three tarts who are seated with Cap’n Andy reveals tht they are in the style of the early 1930’s. This eliminates at once the possibility that we are looking at the original 1927 production or its subsequent road tour.

It is obviously therefore the 1932 revival, the last show produced by Ziegfeld. As Cap’n Andy is not Charles Winninger, we know instantly that this if from the post-Broadway tour, when Winninger was replaced first by William Kent and finally by Sam Hearn. . . .

About 30 seconds were required to retrieve a program for the Capitol Theatre (dated 2-24-33). By this time, the show had been reduced to a truncated tab show that accompanied movies at movie palaces around the east. You will see that among the three tarts listed is Peggy Stebbins as Lottie. Problem solved.

Miles Kreuger was also kind enough to include a copy of the program from the Major Bowes (Managing Director) Capitol Theatre, Broadway at 51st Street. The program indicates that Helen Morgan played Julie. It reads, “Helen Morgan in Ziegfeld ‘Show Boat’ with Jules Bledsoe.”