Personal Life
Reynolds married Anne Cannon in York, South Carolina at midnight on November 16, 1929 soon after he turned 18. She was the daughter of Joseph Franklin Cannon (July 23, 1876 - June 21, 1939) of the Cannon Mills fortune and Annie Hunt Ludlow (December 9, 1887 - March 10, 1965). They had one child, Anne Cannon Reynolds II (August 23, 1930 - May 11, 2003). Due to Reynolds's affair with singer and actress Libby Holman, the Reynoldses were divorced in Reno, Nevada November 23, 1931. After their divorce, Anne Reynolds married and divorced Charlotte, North Carolina realtor Frank Brandon Smith, Jr. (May 21, 1906 - June 25, 1967) in 1934.
Smith Reynolds married Libby Holman on November 29, 1931 in the parlor of Monroe, Michigan Justice of the Peace Fred M. Schoepfer, just six days after his divorce from Cannon was final. Reynolds had asked Holman to marry him while still married to Cannon and had reportedly told her he would kill himself if she refused his offer. Holman, although a celebrated Broadway actress, gave up her career to preside over the Reynolds estate, Reynolda House. They threw many parties there.
Holman gave birth to Christopher Smith "Topper" Reynolds three months prematurely on January 11, 1933 in Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the baby weighed 3.5 pounds. Topper Reynolds died in August 1950 at age 17 in a climbing accident on Mount Whitney.
Read more about this topic: Zachary Smith Reynolds
Famous quotes containing the words personal and/or life:
“The medium is the message. This is merely to say that the personal and social consequences of any medium—that is, of any extension of ourselves—result from the new scale that is introduced into our affairs by each extension of ourselves, or by any new technology.”
—Marshall McLuhan (1911–1980)
“I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back any more—the feeling that I could last for ever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men; the deceitful feeling that lures us on to joys, to perils, to love, to vain effort—to death; the triumphant conviction of strength, the heat of life in the handful of dust, the glow in the heart that with every year grows dim, grows cold, grows small, and expires—and expires, too soon, too soon—before life itself.”
—Joseph Conrad (1857–1924)