Artist Marlene Amerian gave the South Valley a genuine
masterpiece with her long-awaited
”
Waiting for the Train
”
sculpture.
Artist Marlene Amerian gave the South Valley a genuine masterpiece with her long-awaited “Waiting for the Train” sculpture. Publicly unveiled April 29 at the Caltrain Station on Depot Street in Morgan Hill, the bronze sculpture is an icon for the city.
Amerian’s artistry created a life-sized rendering of the Victorian-era Hiram Morgan Hill family. Frozen forever in time, they wait patiently on a depot platform for their railroad train to arrive. The dashing Mr. Hill examines his pocket-watch while his wife, Diana, gazes fondly at their daughter, Diane Murphy Hill. Carrying a basket of goodies, the girl is portrayed in jaunty mid-stride with a mischievous Irish grin on her face.
“This sculptural scene shows one of our founding families on their way to their San Francisco residence from their country home, Villa Mira Monte,” Amerian told the crowd prior to the unveiling. “A trip from Morgan Hill to San Francisco took five hours. There were only a few conveniences aboard the train. Just waiting for the train was a test of endurance.”
In a previous column, I’ve written about the unhappy love story of Hiram Morgan and Diana Hill. But gazing at the sculpture, I was reminded that her own short life also contained a tragic tinge.
She was born in 1884, one year following her parent’s wedding and the same year that they built their Villa Mira Monte home. The six-bedroom Queen Anne-style house is located along Monterey Road just north of present day downtown Morgan Hill.
I’d like to imagine the Hills built their South Valley home with their child in mind. They wanted it to be a warm place to escape San Francisco city life. Here, they found solace among the rolling hills.
In personality, Diane was very much like her father, so she certainly loved exploring the land surrounding Villa Mira Monte. Morgan took her on horse-back picnic excursions to the top of Murphy Peak (El Toro), and no doubt on sunny days she picked a bouquet of wildflowers.
The girl received the best education money could buy. A smart child, she spoke four languages – English, French, Spanish and German.
Her mother had high social expectations for her and frequently expressed her intention that Diane would marry into European royalty or find a husband with an aristocratic title. Perhaps more attached to her hardworking rancher father, the defiant Diane insisted she “would rather marry an honest farmer.”
Unfortunately, Diane did not get her wish. When her parents’ marriage began to crumble into ashes and the two separated, she found herself under the control of her overbearing mother. They moved to Washington, D.C., where Diane in 1902 made her debut in that city’s high society. Corseted tightly as the fashion of those times dictated, she certainly danced with many eligible bachelors at the finest society balls. Maybe she once or twice came under the gaze of President Teddy Roosevelt, an acquaintance of her mother.
From what I’ve heard of her dynamic personality, I imagine young Diane’s heart often longed to flee far away from Washington’s empty social scene. On lonely moments, maybe she considered jumping onboard the next train heading to California and returning to the Villa Mira Monte estate.
With her mother’s prodding, Diane at age 27 did wed into titled aristocracy. On Dec. 6, 1911 at St. Matthews Cathedral in Washington, D.C., she married a French Army captain named Baron Hardouin de Reinach-Werth. Despite her mother’s passion for extravagant social events, Diane’s parents were the only guests and witnesses. The day following the wedding, the newlyweds traveled by steamship to Europe for their honeymoon.
Six months later, while in Paris, Diane received the news her father Morgan had suffered a major stroke. The anxiety caused her to mentally collapse with a severe nervous breakdown.
Her husband took her to London’s St. Pancras Sanitarium to recover. Unfortunately, on June 21, 1912, when her nurse wasn’t looking, Diane threw herself through the window of her second-story room. The impact of her skull hitting the cobblestones instantly killed her. The following year, broken-hearted from his beloved daughter’s untimely demise, Morgan Hill passed away.
It’s proper that “Waiting for the Train” presents Diane Murphy Hill as a light-hearted lass displaying a grin as she prances around her parents. The South Valley estate of Villa Mira Monte was certainly a cheerful place for the young girl to grow up. Marlene Amerian’s masterpiece sculpture will make sure she’ll be long remembered in this light.
