Widow Blanche DeVilliard of Kalamazoo, MI recently sat down and discussed her newly published tell-all book about the high-profile relationship with her big band leader husband.
“It was very hard most of the time. He was out on the road a lot. New York, Chicago, Tennessee, and everywhere in between.” she began, taking a Viceroy out of her cigarette case and putting it to her lips as i lit it, intrigued from the start.
“There was a time when it was good, you know. He used to carry my books for me. After graduation from school, we bought this house in Kalamazoo but he never had any time to spend in it, due to his bourgeoning music career. Sure, i would get letters occasionally written on hotel stationary telling me he was hurrying to see me, but had a few more stops on the tour before making it back to Michigan. I started suspecting infidelity after a friend phoned me from Chattanooga and said she saw my husband kissing a woman dressed in satin and lace at the train station. I was very young and naive. I should have been the wiser but he had a way of convincing me everything was fine.
Everything’s OK, A-L-A-M-A-Z-O-O-O’ he would say, slinking out the door of our home.’ In retrospect, it was pretty apparent after that he was sitting under the apple tree with anyone else but me. Nonetheless, I loved him dearly. Perhaps his fatal plane crash finally gave him his stairway to the stars.” she said, as she extinguished her cigarette and gazed out the window of the imgross office.
Blanche DeVilliard. what a gal. a real pipperoo.
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