MRS. GARRISON TALKS ABOUT HOME LIFE IN THE MIDST OF I
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Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST):
CIA-RDP75B00380R000800140029-2
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RIFPUB
Original Classification:
K
Document Page Count:
4
Document Creation Date:
November 17, 2016
Document Release Date:
July 17, 2000
Sequence Number:
29
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MAGAZINE
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Approved For Release 2000/08/27 : CIA-RDP75B0038OR000800140029-2
Mrs. Garrison talks about home life in the midst of
In almost every home where there are youngsters,
alarm-clocks are about as useful as celluloid collars. In
one particular home a one-year-old with the imperial
name of Eberhard Darrow sounds off each morning at
about G:30. He draws an immediate response from his
Gulliver-sized father, who quickly rises and in short
order has Eberhard Darrow quiet and contented with
a full bottle. Then the father quietly shaves and
dresses. At exactly 7 a.m. he nudges his sleepy wife and
says with sunny gusto, "O.K. Egg, time to get tip. Let's
go "
So starts the clay for Jim and Liz Garrison and their
five children. All during the much-publicized investi-
gation and even at the height of the Clay Shaw hearing,
Jim would turn off the Eberhard "clock," wake Liz
and then have breakfast and talk with the rest of the
Garrison brood before leaving for his office.
",Jim is a typical, doting father at home," says Liz.
"Since the investigation came out in the newspapers,
we've had to make a lot of changes, and I've had a
hard time adjusting to our not having privacy any-
more. But I guess we have lived as normally as could
be expected under the circumstances."
For Elizabeth Ziegler Garrison, there appear to be
few circumstances which she could not handle normal-
ly and in stride-whether it be feeding breakfast to
twenty unannounced newrnen or appearing fresh and
elegant at a late dinner party after a one-hour notice
from her husband.
Liz, 31, married Jim eight years ago after dating him
for about four years. They met at the law offices of
Deutsch, Kerrigan, and Stiles where Jim was an attor-
ney and she was a file clerk. The first child, James
Robinson, arrived a year later. 'T'hey nicknamed him
Jaspar. Ile was followed by Virginia, who is now 5;
Lyon I larrison ("Snapper") , age 3; Elizabeth Ziegler,
2; and Eberhard Darrow.
"Jim says if the next one is a boy," laughs Liz, her
hazel eyes sparkling, "we will name him William Shaw
which he thinks is ludicrous or Roachelda, because I
just panic when I see a roach."
A trim (5' 5", 125 lbs.) and attractive woman with
a classic face topped by ash blonde hair, Liz looks more
like a post-season debutante than a housewife and
mother. Her perfect complexion, the barest whisper of
lipstick or makeup, the just-right hairdo, and the snug,
simple Teal Triana dress all show a calm refinement
and cool poise that do not disappear even when tier
five children are attempting to rearrange the formal
living room of their comfortable home on Owens Bou-
levard in the Bancroft Park section.
Such was the case when Liz was being photographed
and interviewed one breezy afternoon three weeks ago.
"The three oldest children know something is going
on," said Liz, "and though they have always been live-
ly, lately they've almost been little brats." She paused,
got up, and smacked Virginia on the backside for climb-
ing over the sofa.
"We have a guard posted in front of the house." she
continued, "and have changed our phone number so
that only a few people have it, but the house looks like
a bus depot sometimes." Liz got up quickly and went
to a big window where a handsome piano stood. She
grabbed Snapper from the' piano and brought him to
the door. "O.K., young man, out you go."
Apologizing, she sat back down and said, "I haven't
finished decorating in here yet and often wonder if I
ever will. Jim plays the piano by car and I think quite
well. We plan to start Virginia taking lessons and I
hope to learn with her, that is, if the piano lasts." Be-
fore she could continue, the phone rang, followed by
the doorbell and a whimpering two-year-old Elizabeth.
"Then there was a knock on the door and a man stuck
his head in the living room.
"Olt, hello, Joe," Liz said cheerfully and introduced
him as Joe Riorda, who with his wife, Dottie, are
neighbors and best friends with the Garrisons. Joe
dAp'Wk 1 *461kFW1ftS4=2Ode1O8/1&71t~ (M*-k[Jo#TSIi 0038eKv6dOAmK4but19nj then went to answer the ringing
names and nicknames. Ile never calls me Liz. It's phone as Liz picked up her daughter and patted her.
usually Egg, because he says I'm an egghead, or Edna, "It's Jim, he wants to talk / co)rtinulcfi on /oge 48
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MRS. GARRISON cont. from page 10
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to you, Liz," Riorda called from the
other room.
"O.K., coining," Liz answered, reach.
ing for the afternoon newspaper and
spreading it on the floor. "Now, Eliza-
beth, why don't you read the news-
paper.
When Liz returned, Elizabeth had
torn up the newspaper and appeared
headed for one of the half dozen chess
sets her father keeps around the house
in various stages of play. Liz picked up
the child and handed her to Mattie, the
maid.
Liz and her husband talk politics a
lot, and he has kept her up-to-date on
the investigation. She says that some-
times he'll be restless and wake her up
at 2 or 3 a.m. to talk about the latest
developments.
Because teachers at school were wor-
ried about the children, the Garrisons
hired a detective to take the two oldest
to school and watch them during play
periods. In addition, he checks people
coming to the house. "I'm a little em-
barrassed because he ends up most of
the time being just a baby sitter."
Though the phone rings as much as be-
fore the number was changed, Liz has
received no crank or threatening calls.
One phone call of five weeks ago slid
shake her up, however.
"A reporter from Life was here going
through sonic old photographs we had.
The phone rang, I answered it, and it
was for her. When she came back in
the room, she looked at me quite
strangely and said, '1 don't know how
to tell you this, but it's rumored your
husband has been shot. It was on the
radio.' My mother and father were here,
and it was lie who kept everything calm.
My mother just went to pieces. Then,
about 20 minutes later Jim walked in
and I couldn't believe it. I started hug-
ging him just to convince myself lie was
alright."
Yet, Liz still finds time to grocery
shop; to play bridge; shop for hers and
the children's clothes; ride her bicycle
to the store or grocery; go to the beauty
salon once a week; look for bargain fur-
niture; read Time weekly to keep abreast
of the news; do embroidery (she loves
to cross-stitch) and needle point; meet
Jim at any time; and be ready for sur-
prises at a moment's notice.
"It was tile Sunday after the inve
a recent surprise. "Jim forgot to tell
me he invited 'a few newsmen' to break-
fast. There I was, the kids at various
stages of dress, when about twenty peo.
ple poured in. I scooted to the kitchen,
scrambled eggs, made bacon, toast and
coffee and served them. The china and
silver didn't ntatcli, the kids ran wild,
and we had a ball."
All tier experiences with the press
haven't been that pleasant, however.
Several weeks ago, two reporters. tried
to follow her when she went to Ma-
nale's for dinner with friends. "It was
pretty gruesome."
But, she is philosophical about such
things, including critics of tier husband
("I have complete faith in what he is
doing") and his handling of the iuves-
tigalion. A close friend says of Liz, "She
is a person of strong convictions on
things that really matter. But, she is
also a truly charming woman who could
not be nasty or rude to anyone. And
Liz never (trenches anyone in unwel-
comed good will."
The phone calls, the people in the
house, the curious stares wherever she
goes, the guard and detective, the irreg-
ular hours, the unfinished work, all this
the unruffled Liz believes will have to
end sometime. "And I've let Jim know
quite firmly," she says in mock serious-
ness, "that when this case is all over we
are going away and take a trip. Whcrc
will we go? I don't know. A cruise
would be nice. But., it will probably
never happen. I'll be happy if we get
as far as the Gulf Coast."
No matter what the outcome of Jim's
case, one thing is certain, things arc in
control at the Garrison household. +
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