Lowdermilk’s 1938 Buick pulled into Italy on December 7, 1938. I’ll let the niece, Elizabeth Moody introduce herself:
“Elizabeth Moody, age nineteen and very beautiful, accompanied her Uncle, Dr. Walter C. Lowdermilk and family on an official trip for the United States government, using their personal car and paying their own expenses, to study old Roman lands for the benefit of the US soil conservation service, and American farmers to find out what could be [learned] of the agricultural successes and failures of the past.“
This is transcribed from the journal she kept on the trip:
Wednesday, December 7—we’re in Italy at last, a dictator’s country and Duce printed on all walls numerous times. We were lucky and had no trouble crossing the border because of the special passports and none of the baggage was either examined were touched. We were most surprised at the beauty and cleanliness of the Italian Riviera. Many date palms and terraces of bright flowers. Nothing is out of place, no stone or leaf. The coastline is very rocky and mountainous and our road went up and down and around and around. All the slopes were terraced, besides being of stone and many of them higher than the plot of ground was wide. Through many of the stone walls along the highway grapevines were planted in little holes and seemingly thriving well. Of course many olive trees. At the restaurant where we had lunch we were the only ones in a perfectly huge place. (It isn’t the season on the Italian Riviera.) Uncle has established us in excellent hotels in Italy so far. We have coupons for dinner, lodging and breakfast in the class B hotels which are really better than we needed to take. Here in Elizabetta overlooking the city (Rapallo) and sea below, we are most comfortable stations for the night and have just a most delicious dinner. The highways of Italy bordered with cacti, trees (Pine or Palm) and then flowers, while neat and clean, or marred by the unsightliness of many ugly signs and advertisements. One certainly sees Duce printed all over the place on walls and buildings about six Duce’s to a wall. Mussolini’s picture also decorates walls.
December 8, Thursday–Started out this morning up through the hills and mountains of terraced steps of olive trees and grapevines. We wound up, up, up and then hairpinned back-and-forth down into the valley. In the distance rose range after range of blue mountains, very rugged and barren, one of which was a volcano with the cone still in evidence. Every place we go our car is of great interest. Little children and old men alike stand around and peer inside and talk about the Americans. It’s a strange sensation to be such a show. As we passed many salute us in Duce style with the raised right hand.
This afternoon we passed through Pisa, a city older than Rome, and there passed through the old city gate to visit the Leaning Tower, one of the seven wonders of the world. There is a huge cathedral in the same block as the tower but we did not go there. All of us climbed to the tip-top and had a wonderful view over the cultivated valley. The sensation one received in climbing the tower is the oddest. I was dizzy and reeling when I reached the top, and after Uncle took our pictures I was very glad to come down and reach level ground. It took some time to get back my equilibrium. We drove through several pine nut forests where the trees are trimmed of their branches except the very top. It gives a very smooth and round effect and very artistic and lovely. We wanted to spend the night at Grossette, but it was St. Augustine’s feast day, and a big banquet was scheduled in the hotel and it had no room for us. That kind of stumped us for there was no hotel listed on the road between Grossette and Civitvichia, a distance of about 65 miles and winding roads, and at night with many bicyclists popping up without lights on, Uncle didn’t want to try it—also we would miss supper and we only had fruit for lunch. So we decided to turn off the main highway (via Aurelia which was the old Roman road from Rome to France) in about 20 miles and stay at Orbatello on the seacoast. That little city behind it city wall turned out to be very much of a naval base and all of us were under close observation. Whether they thought us spies or had never seen a big car or Americans before I don’t know, but we were certainly stared at and talked about. The hotel wasn’t so hot. It was a C and we were supposed to be in be, but it was the best we could do. We could hardly make the waiters understand and we were and they were all balled up. We were supposed to have fish cut fresh in the Mediterranean, but somehow it never showed up. Anyway the apples were the only good part of the meal.
December 9, Friday—all night long the crowds milled through the streets noisily and every hour some nearby bells sounded the hour. My sleep was little. We only had one blanket on the bed and it was with great difficulty we made the manager know we wanted another, so we rather froze too.
We were off early. The sky was gray and overcast, but we were happy, for soon we would be in Rome and have mail and news from home. We always get lost trying to find the embassy and this was no exception. On Main Street corners old Roman fountains spray water into pools below or statues decorate, and often one comes upon an old ruin. The embassy recommended us to the Anglo-American Hotel nearby in which we found lovely rooms overlooking a park below with a gurgling fountain to lull us to sleep each night. After a late lunch (and it was now raining) and I took a bath which certainly felt good and wrote until dinner. For lunch we had several miles of the most delicious spaghetti with tomato sauce and cheese. After dinner, Mac, Aunt Inez and I went to the only English speaking theater in town to see Louise Rainer in “Toy Wife,” which was very well acted throughout. But we got lost in getting there and got into some theater where a play was being presented. If we can’t make the Italians understand English we usually can try French and understand. I never saw such a high-class crowd in a movie theater. No one there was cheap or tawdry, but the price was high, 16 lire or 80 cents our money.
December 10, Saturday—school all morning until lunch after which Mac, Wester, Billy and I started off for the American Express, to see the town, and shop. Billy was dying to see “Test Pilot” again and so he set off by himself about 3:30. After Mac had finished his business, the three of us jammed ourselves into an old-fashioned carriage drawn by horse and had a wonderful time driving over the cobblestone streets and through a lovely park filled with Roman statuary. Little boys in uniforms and with guns were marching around in drilling we passed several hundred of them—Mussolini’s youths. Wester and I left Mac and went shopping for I didn’t have one whole pair of stockings to my name, and I had no Christmas present for Babe or Patty. I found compacts of leather nicer here than in France and so chose them, several filigree gold bracelets and made $7.00 look sick. Dressed for dinner and then Mac took Aunt Inez, Uncle Walter and myself to the opera to see “Tannhauser.” We had excellent seats to see and hear although they were not classy. We were above for balconies of boxes in the center gallery. There was no room for our legs anywhere, but the beautiful music made up for our discomfort, the choruses were magnificent. It almost seemed to me that their work was better than the soloists, but I suppose that was because they weren’t Jenny Lind’s or Carusos. The lighting was excellent and the stage sets and costumes most lavish. The music is my favorite I think. I don’t know of anything I love more or that thrills me more than the Pilgrim’s Chorus. Poor Mac, all curled up in a ball and most uncomfortable, drifted off to sleep for several minutes but he didn’t miss anything important like “Song of the Evening Star” as Mother did when she went to the opera to sleep. It wasn’t over until 12 though. There was the most beautiful huge crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling which reflected all the colors of the rainbow, with smaller chandeliers all around it and paintings of Romans decorating the ceilings and walls. All of us came home in a horse and carriage and Mac and I cut up an apple to feed the horse, but he had such a hard time chewing all of it that we gave the last quarter to the driver to give to the horse, but the driver ate it himself. Bed with beautiful music still running through my mind.
As you can see, Elizabeth Moody was a lively writer with an eye to detail.
An internet search did not reveal any more information on her.
Nullius in Verba 