Lea and Billy Wolf (#3) – A Balloon, A Movie, and a Sprained Ankle by Thomas Wolf

For my grandmother, Lea Luboshutz, family was as important as music.  And in her son-in-law, my father Billy Wolf, she discovered a soul mate.  Dad was a family man and as my mother delivered child after child (six in all), both he and Lea were thrilled.  In time, it became more important to her to be photographed with a grandchild in her hands than a violin.  My father did his part by taking and commissioning scores of family photographs.  His efforts were eventually rewarded when 25 of these photos made their way into Life Magazine.

Now for the backstory.  After my oldest sister, Alexandra, was born in 1936, Dad commissioned a four-generation shot of the new baby, mother Irene, grandmother Lea, and great grandmother Katherine Luboshutz (better known in the family as “Babushka”).  A few months later, he also did what many proud parents do.  He had a photographer take a picture of Alexandra, Irene, and himself – the new family unit – to be sent out as a holiday card. So began a tradition. Every year, a Wolf holiday card featuring Dad’s growing family (generally with their dogs) would be sent to friends, relatives, and business associates – at one time the mailing list had grown to over a thousand! Dad would always be in a hat (to hide his bald head) and, not to be outdone by his musician in-laws, would be seen playing his flute

As the family grew, so did the complexity and creativity of the cards.  Each had a theme.  All were intended to be amusing, many were challenging to pose, and some were downright dangerous. The family might be sailors (at sea on the bowsprit of a schooner in Maine), or aviators on the wing of a vintage airplane, or a Swiss rescue team in lederhosen with eight live Saint Bernard Dogs in tow, or cyclists (on an eight-seater bicycle), or big game hunters (in a Museum diorama with zebras and antelope). 

But nothing capped the success (and danger) of the photo in my Aunt Connie’s balloon which led to the first holiday-photo-related family injury.

My father’s sister-in-law, Constance Wolf, was an aviator and a balloonist.  At one time, she was the only female member of the Balloon Club of America.  At another moment in her life, she held the women’s endurance record for time spent in a balloon.  Aunt Connie had many friends among the Hollywood elite including the producer, Mike Todd.  So when it was time for Todd to produce the movie “Around the World in Eighty Days” and there was a long segment requiring a balloon, Todd turned to Aunt Connie. The result was that my aunt’s balloon was used in the film with the long shots of the balloon actually flying featuring my aunt in top hat as a stand-in for the star, David Niven, who was not about to leave the ground in such a dangerous craft.

There was quite a bit of notoriety around Aunt Connie and her balloon when Todd’s film was produced and my father, never one to miss an opportunity, decided the following year that this was the moment to have the family’s holiday photo taken in Connie’s balloon.  My mother, egged on by Lea, conjured up images of dire accidents and balked at the idea.  No child of hers was going to go up in a balloon.  The argument between my parents went on for some time until a compromise was reached.  The balloon basket would be hung from a tree.  Family members would be hoisted into the basket.  A photo would be taken from the ground and once it was developed, a professional would photomontage the actual balloon and supporting ropes into the photograph.

The result was a classic.  We actually looked like we were flying and the danger of this apparent action shot was enhanced by my two brothers who were hanging dangerously off the side of the basket.

In time, this photo along with others came to the attention of Life Magazine which was to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the holiday photos with an article featuring the entire series.  For my father, it was the capstone of his holiday card career.

But it turned out that Lea and my mother’s prediction had been correct.  When the balloon photo was taken, there had indeed been an accident.  My sister Alexandra had the same year gotten married and Dad’s idea was that the new husband should be seen joining the family by being pulled up into the balloon basket by his wife.  The young man, Herbert, stood on a ladder and stretched his arm to the awaiting hand as the photographer snapped his photos.  But in coming down from the ladder, Herbert slipped and fell, seriously damaging his ankle.  My grandmother was sympathetic but, knowing her, I am certain that she was secretly relieved that the accident had not happened to one of her own flesh and blood.