royalty and rock stars, a U.S. president, Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winners,
honeymooners Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, contemporary
celebrities ranging from Robert De Niro to REM’s Michael Stipe, and at
least a dozen people whose faces have appeared on the cover of
Time
magazine.
When Merry and I arrived in late afternoon, innkeeper Daniel Hogan
ushered us into the living room and joked about the inn’s high-tech
check-in system, which consisted of a white card and a pen laid on an
antique desk. Wrought-iron chandeliers hung from a beamed ceiling, and
a fire was already going in the carved limestone fireplace, its light dancing
on the red oak floor. We had magically entered the gracious, glamorous
1920s, the era when people began “wintering” in Palm Springs to savor its
slow, sunny way of life.
A row of French doors opened onto a terrace with a broad view
over the city and the Coachella Valley. But we plunked down by the fire
to sip wine and enjoy appetizers that Daniel served on a silver tray: olive
tapenade on French bread, dates wrapped in bacon, Brie with apricot
sauce. Other guests came in and sat on large velvety chairs, and we
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