Taylor Swift was the single most popular entertainer of 2023, earning a billion dollars for her Eras tour as well as Person of the Year honors from TIME magazine. Based on the hype and hoopla, one would almost think that such a phenom had never walked the face of the earth before. One would be incorrect.

The world has been swept up in such winds of admiration and passions before. In fact, many times before. None more so than Geneviève Von Hildebrand at her prime, early in the last century. Von Hildebrand studied at the Nantes Conservatoire and then at the Paris Conservatoire as a pupil of Lhérie where she won the first prize for opera in 1904, as well as second prize for opéra comique. This launched her career on a trajectory that would soon put her on her way across the pond to the United States, a place hungry for culture from far away lands.

The only thing surpassing her vocal talents was her beauty. Her audiences swelled with men who cared nothing about the adaptation of Lais ou La Courtisane amoureuse by Charles Cuvillier, but instead hoped to be invited backstage after her performance and offered the opportunity to convince her they were up to the challenge of becoming her paramour for the evening. As Mathew proclaimed in Chapter 22, verse 24, “Many are called, but few are chosen.”

Those who were, however, were never hesitant in proclaiming the evening shared with Geneviève Von Hildebrand to be one of the most life-changing, physically exalted, passionate episodes they had ever experienced. Any of them, regardless of their ability to carry a tune, much less an opera, would not have turned down the role to play Romeo opposite her Juliette in Roméo et Juliette, given even the slightest chance.

It was one of those admirers from Chicago’s Gold Coast, a Mr. Morgan Pierpoint, who was so enamored with Geneviève’s talents and companionship that he gifted her a brand new 1910 Brush Model D Runabout as a symbol of his love.  Much like Geneviève Von Hildebrand was the Taylor Swift of her day, Morgan Pierpont was the Jeff Bezos of the same time period.  Pierpont was believed to head a shadow trust that controlled America’s banking industry from behind a curtain of secrecy.  He had created a monopoly of railroads and retail alliances that enabled two-week shipping on almost any of the goods that could be purchased through the catalogs Sears & Roebuck, Montgomery Wards, or J.C. Penny.  

His efforts slashed the profits of Mom and Pop General Stores throughout America causing hundreds to be shuttered.  By offering unlimited goods at unprecedentedly quick delivery across rural America, Pierpont changed the face of retail.  Economists would later claim that Pierpont was probably more responsible for the consumerism that would drive the American economy than any other individual than perhaps Henry Ford.  It was that competition with Henry Ford that caused Pierpont to buy the Brush Runabout rather than a comparable Ford.

The Brush Motor Car Company had been founded three years earlier by Alanson Partridge Brush, most famous for helping to develop the single-cylinder engine used by Cadillac in its early days. In 1909 the company name was changed to Brush Runabout Company and the Model D was launched. With a starting price of $485, the Runabout became known as the “Everyman’s Car”, though it was certainly not an “Everyman” who purchased the red one given to Geneviève Von Hildebrand.

The gift of the racy red Runabout only served to tighten the passions of the two lovers and they became a common sight around the shores of Lake Michigan, often with Geneviève behind the wheel and Pierpont with his head in her lap gazing at the scenery.  Of course, such actions did not go unnoticed by the wives of fellow robber barons who were quick to report the indiscretions to Piepont’s wife, Maxine.  Not a woman to be trifled with, nor embarrassed in public, Maxine swiftly took measures to show her husband just who had the upper hand.

Maxine bribed the chambermaid at the Palmer House Hotel for the key to the suite where the couple would often end up ‘christening the yak’ after Geneviève’s evening performance. Hiding in the wardrobe, waiting to catch the immoral couple in the act, Maxine came armed with an artisan crafted, high-carbon steel Hakai Cleaver she’d had the butler sharpen that very morning. Startled, but still keeping her wits about her when caught in the act, Geneviève was able to run past Maxine and hide on the other side of the grand piano. Pierpont, not so lucky, was caught by the organ which, thanks to the newly sharpened clever, was quickly severed.

In much the same way Geneviève Von Hildebrand would foretell Taylor Swift and Morgan Pierpont would foreshadow Jeff Bezos, Maxine Pierpont would lay the groundwork for Lorena Bobbitt.  Unfortunately, medical advancements in 1910 did not allow for reattachment of lost appendages, particularly those with as many nerve endings as the one in Maxine’s firm grip.

The result of the incident (which local authorities quickly swept under the rug before the press could get involved) was Geneviève Von Hildebrand leaving town with only one suitcase of gowns and sheet music thrown onto the passenger seat of her Brush Runabout. Morgan Pierpont never filed charges against his wife, part of an agreement that included her never divulging the nature or extent of the injuries she inflicted upon him. He went on to purchase a minority ownership stake in the Hormel Meat Company, where Maxine was put in charge of developing pepperoni and introducing it to the American market in 1915. Few knew that, while she was the driving force, Morgan had been the inspiration. In later years, both pepperoni and the memory of what took place in the suite at the Palmer House gave Geneviève wamblecropt.

Ultimately, the shock of that evening proved to be a lot for Geneviève to deal with.  The loss of her lover and her rapid retreat in the Runabout convinced her to head to calmer environs. “Witnessing your lover’s male member being felled from the forest like a fir tree at the hand of his angry wife causes one to reflect,” she wrote to a friend back in Europe.  No place better for such rest and reflection than Fort Stockton.

When she pulled the Runabout into town and registered at the Cattle Baron Hotel under the name of Gene deBrand, nobody was the wiser as to her true identity. After a short respite from singing, she soon found herself on stage again at the Ma Ferguson Memorial Opera House & Gambling Parlor, playing to sold out audiences and rave reviews in the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch.

Her solos had a much more solemn tone to them, though that would not be apparent to anyone who’d not heard her perform before. All the intended affections of the male elite of Fort Stockton after each performance were shunned. Long drives out towards the Glass Mountains west of town helped take her mind off what had happened in Chicago and helped her heal.

On one of those long drives west, the Runabout ran out of gas, her thoughts centered on things more important than ever checking the fuel tank.  Distressed and unnerved, she was both fearful and relieved when a native American Indian strolled up on horseback and offered her a ride back to town.  He extended his muscular arm to help her atop the animal.  The ride back to Fort Stockton was uneventful for the most part.  The only exception being that every mile or so the Indian would let out a loud “Y-e-e-e-h-a-a-a-!”.  It was startling to Geneviève as it echoed from the surrounding hills.

When they finally arrived back at the edge of town and he dropped her off at the ESSO station so she could get gas and someone take her back to the Brush Runabout, he yelled one final “Y-e-e-e-h-a-a-a-!” and rode off back in the direction of the setting sun.

Gus, the owner of the ESSO, was somewhat surprised by the confluence of events, and asked “What did you do to get that Indian so excited?”

“Not a thing,” Geneviève answered meekly.  “I merely rode behind him on his horse, arms around his waist, and held on to the saddle horn so as not to fall off the animal.”

Gus replied, “Ma’am, Indians don’t use saddles.”