Rumor had it that the syphilis had collapsed his nose. Vincent had returned from the European theatre with rashes all over his body, been sent to a sanatorium in Albany, and hadn’t been seen in Stickney since. She had hair like her late mother’s, like dark water you could drown in.īut by twenty-three she’d been noticed with only one boy. She wasn’t even blond, to the annoyance of those who hopefully lemoned their hair each summer. Still, she was the undisputed local beauty, a striking girl with a stronger resemblance to the Modiglianis in the library art books than to a dish-soap model. In both 19, Margie Bixby was crowned Trout Queen of the Upper Delaware River, an honor she lost in 1948 only because it wouldn’t do for the daughter of the newspaper editor-the editor of the paper that sponsored the pageant-to win three times.
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