She was a scandal. Pouty lips, rumors of wild, unladylike behavior and, of course, all that money. Broadway torch singer Libby Holman married into the wealthy R.J. Reynolds family at the height of the Great Depression, but her story was anything but a dream come true. Tragedy, whispers and innuendo followed her throughout her life.
Libby’s story is like a film noir screenplay. All the ingredients are there including wealth, passion, intrigue and, most importantly, a suspicious death. Libby, along with a suspected lover, was indicted for the death of her young husband, Zachary “Smith” Reynolds, but the whodunit remains unanswered today.
Was it murder, an accident or suicide are questions at the heart of “Zach & Libby: Two Rings, Seven Months, One Bullet,” a special exhibit at the Reynolda House Museum of American Art in Winston-Salem, N.C., until Dec. 31.
Reynolda was Smith's family home and where he lost his life. The exhibit, along with a tour of the estate is an intriguing deep dive into this shocking story.
A Small City with Big Money
Smith’s death was a national scandal in the 1930s and the public hung on every headline and newsreel, especially with Libby’s subsequent indictment. The backdrop was Winston-Salem, a small, Southern city that benefited from tobacco and textile money.
At its heart, Winston (locals always drop the Salem part) and its residents aren’t that different now as they were then. It’s a polite town where people smile at strangers. Residents enjoy low-crime, a high level of education and live among beautiful tree-filled landscapes in the heart of N.C.'s piedmont. The arts are appreciated and volunteerism thrives.
It was never a place where you’d imagine its most influential family rocked by a possible murder. The Reynolds-produced cigarette brands, Salem and Winston, were even named after the city.
I lived in and around Winston for decades and knew about the suspicious death at Reynolda, the family’s estate. But, the murder happened so long ago, I didn’t know about the key players in great detail, especially one. Then, I happened to wander into an antique consignment shop just a few miles from where all the action happened.
Tucked among old lamps, toys and costume jewelry, I spotted the cover of a book. It featured a dramatic artist caricature of a woman clad in a long, hot pink dress. Her hair was dark and wild, her lashes extra long and her lips big and brazen. I read the back cover and realized this was all about the wife and possible murderess of the Reynolds heir.
I bought the dusty book, “Dreams that Money Can Buy: The Tragic Life of Libby Holman” by Jon Bradshaw, and read it within days. At the time, I wondered how this incredible, headline-grabbing story had remained unsolved and dwindled away.
Yes, it happened in the 1930s, but the elements of the case, the setting and everyone involved are fascinating.
Reynolda: Luxury Among Nature
Smith’s father, Richard Joshua Reynolds, grew up on a tobacco farm in Virginia. After college, he settled in Winston and built his empire, the R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Company. He married Katharine Smith and together they had four children: R.J. Reynolds Jr. (Dick), Mary, Nancy, and Smith.
The family lived downtown, not far from the tobacco factories. As the hustle and bustle of city life wore thin, Richard and Katharine decided to seek refuge among nature and the result was building Reynolda.
Katharine bought large tracts of land just outside the city and construction soon followed. The gracious mansion has sixty rooms, including eight bedrooms, many with an adjoining sleeping porch (important plot point!).
Recreational activities on the Reynolda estate included swimming, golf, horseback riding, and tennis. I imagine hunting and shooting was probably regular activities, as well.
As a child, I knew an elderly woman who said she attended a party at Reynolda and on that particularly raucous night the “blind” for shooting deer on the front lawn was an upstairs window. Who knows if it's true, but it's a great story. It was after another rowdy party at Reynolda that Smith met his untimely death.
Player Number 1: Daredevil Smith
When viewing the Reynolda House exhibit about the murder–complete with news articles, artifacts, and historic pictures–its clear Libby and Smith were forces of nature. Maybe tragedy was bound to happen after two such people collide.
As explained in the exhibit, Smith was nicknamed “Camel” as a child since he was a year old when the cigarette brand was launched. The moniker didn’t last long and was replaced with the more apt “Daredevil Smith.”
The young Reynolds wasn’t interested in school. Adventure and flying filled his days. Smith earned a pilot’s license at 16 and was the youngest transport pilot in the nation. He flew all over the world as he logged a 17,000 mile solo-trip from England to China in 1931. Smith mastered flying stunts, aeronautical mechanics and shared his aviation passion with his older brother, Dick.
The brothers were well-known among aviators–even loaning planes to the likes of Amelia Earhart and Charles Lindbergh. A pioneer in aviation, the city’s small airport is named in Smith’s honor.
Player Number 2: The Dark Purple Menace
Elizabeth “Libby” Holman was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, into a well-off family. “Born into” is the key phrase.
The year of her birth, the family lost its fortune when her paternal uncle embezzled a $1 million from the family stockbroker business. Her family struggled, but Libby, an ambitious and adventurous woman, rose above it.
She eventually was cast in the chorus of a popular Broadway show and began to rub elbows with New York’s rich and famous. The city was Libby’s playground in the 1920s and '30s.
She wasn’t a conventional beauty, but she had that special something that drew others in. With her deep, throaty voice, Libby appeared in numerous hit Broadway shows and was an ideal torch singer known for songs such as “Moanin’ Low” and “Body and Soul.”
Libby, credited as the first woman to wear a strapless evening gown, had a dramatic and seductive presence on stage. Theater critic Brooks Atkinson referred to her persona as a “dark purple menace.”
The Ways and Wanes of the Heart
Libby was actually in a tumultuous lover/friend relationship with Lousia d'Andelot Carpenter Jenny, heir to the Du Pont fortune, when she first met Smith. He watched one of her stage performances and his infatuation was instant. For Libby, cupid’s arrow didn’t strike just yet.
Smith chased after Libby relentlessly, but in addition to Louisa, he had another obstacle in his way–his wife. Smith was married to Anne Ludlow Cannon, whose family founded the Cannon Mills textile empire, also in N.C.
The two had married hastily as teenagers on Nov. 16, 1929. Although Smith had pursued Anne, it seems the wedding was at her father’s insistence.
“The wedding of Anne Cannon and Smith Reynolds was celebrated at midnight in York, S.C. There were no witnesses except the bride’s father and a policeman,” was how a 1931 "Time" article described the nuptials after Smith’s death.
Nine months after the wedding, the couple’s daughter, also named Anne, was born in August of 1930. Smith and Anne’s union was brief and unhappy. With his sights now set on Libby, Smith flew Anne to Reno where she resided for six weeks to establish residency in order to get a quickie divorce.
At the time, Nevada had loose divorce laws, so women, especially those of means, stayed on glorified ranches, enjoying horseback riding and other pursuits, until their divorce was official.
For Anne and Smith, that date was Nov. 23, 1931. Six days later, Smith quietly married Libby. Seven months later Smith was dead.
The Longest Night
The Reynolda House exhibit includes a film noir-style short film, “The Longest Night,” that outlines in detail the events surrounding Smith's death. Along with the film is a sketched map of the crime scene.
The longest night happened on July 6, 1932. Libby and Smith were hosting a birthday party for a friend. From the main house to the boat house, the guests drank, enjoyed canoeing on the lake and partied all day.
Libby had one too many drinks and Smith was annoyed. Among the guests were Albert “Ab” Walker, Smith’s childhood best friend turned personal secretary. Supposedly, a drunken Libby leaned into Ab while standing at the boathouse porch railing. Some party-goers believed she kissed him, others weren’t sure.
The party wrapped up and the only remaining guests were Ab and Libby’s Broadway friend, actress Blanche Yurka. Smith and his still-drunk wife retired to the sleeping porch of the main bedroom. The two argued. Then, the house was quiet, but not for long. Around midnight, a night watchman heard a muffled gunshot.
Libby awoke her guests with screams. Hysterical, Libby said she woke up and saw Smith standing over her with a gun to his head and then–boom–he shot himself.
The group rushed Smith to the nearby hospital where he died four hours later. He was only 20 years-old. The coroner declared it a suicide.
Death of Zachary "Smith" Reynolds Shocks the Nation
For a little while the matter of Smith’s death was closed. But, the tide slowly turned. The evidence didn’t add up and law enforcement officials declared Smith was killed by a “person or persons unknown.”
Of the twists and turns in the case, it was revealed Libby was pregnant, which was considered a possible motive for murder. Smith wouldn’t inherit his fortune–almost $30 million–until he turned 28, but his heir would gain all the riches upon his death no matter his age when he died. To put in context, $30 million then is the equivalent of over $500 million today.
The narrator for a Hearst Metrotone newsreel in the exhibit declared that Smith’s death “shocked the nation'' and Libby was “cast in the most dramatic role of her life.” Assistant Solicitor McMichael appeared on camera to assure the curious public of two things: “truth be known” and “justice done.”
In early August charges came. “LIBBY HOLMAN AND WALKER INDICTED FOR MURDER” blazoned across the top of the "New York Daily News" and publications throughout the country. Libby claimed she had no memory of what happened other than waking up just before seeing Smith shoot himself.
She also claimed Smith had brandished guns and threatened to hurt himself before. Others who had known Smith brought up similar dramatic claims.
The crime scene is mapped out in the exhibit and it's easy to see how a suicide didn’t make sense to law enforcement, especially the bullet’s trajectory. Smith, according to Libby, was standing, but the downward path of the bullet also cut a hole in six feet above the floor into a screen door.
Other puzzling facts included smeared blood on the bathroom door. Did someone try to clean up? And, Smith was left-handed, but the bullet entered his right temple. That seemed odd, too.
Other questions included the whereabouts of the gun and the nature of Libby and Ab’s relationship. Were they in cahoots? Was Ab the real father of the baby? It was juicy stuff and the public couldn’t get enough.
Shocking Reversal of Fortune
Libby appeared at her bond hearing looking forlorn and shrouded in black including a veil over her face. Things didn’t look good for Ab and Libby.
Libby’s father, an attorney, proclaimed his daughter’s innocence. It’s a “dastardly frame-up,” he said according to a “Time” article about the indictment. Some speculated Libby was targeted for her wild, theater lifestyle and Jewish heritage.
Then, in the most stunning turn of events, Smith’s uncle and guardian, William Reynolds, requested the entire matter be dropped. Even though the family did not believe Smith killed himself, William cited the lack of conclusive evidence for a conviction and the fact the ongoing scandal had dragged on long enough.
Indeed, charges were dropped.
It’s an enduring true-crime (or was it) mystery. No one will ever know if Smith died by murder, accident or suicide. Adding to the ongoing intrigue was gossip that Ab supposedly said he would take to the grave what he knew about the night of the murder. Ab waffled between claims he never said those words or that he was misunderstood.
The Aftermath
Six months after Smith’s death, Libby gave birth to Christopher Smith “Topper” Reynolds. There was much legal wrangling about Smith’s inheritance, especially considering he had two heirs. In 1936, the issue was settled with $7 million going to Topper and $10 million to his daughter Anne, according to the “New York Times," which covered legal matter with great focus.
Tragedy followed Libby for the rest of her life. Failed relationships–with both men and women–and more death, including Topper dying in a mountain climbing accident in 1950 at age 17.
Libby married two more times and was in a 10-year relationship with the Hollywood acting legend Montgomery Clift. She returned to her singing career in the 1950s and '60s and was actively involved in political causes, including being an early supporter of Martin Luther King, Jr.
Libby committed suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning in 1971. She was survived by her sons, Timmy and Tommy, whom she adopted in the late 1940s.
Under his siblings’ direction, Smith’s portion of his father’s inheritance was used to create the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation. The non-profit has poured millions of dollars into improving the lives of North Carolinians since its inception 80 years ago.
No surprise, where there's scandal, there’s Hollywood waiting to tell the story. Two movies came out rather quickly after the death of Zachary "Smith" Reynolds: “Sing, Sinner, Sing” (1933) and “Reckless” (1935). Robert Wilder’s 1946 novel, “Written on the Wind,” was also loosely based on Smith’s death and adapted into a 1956 movie of the same name starring Lauren Becall, Dorothy Malone and Rock Hudson.
See The Exhibit And How the Reynolds Family Lived
Although much about Libby and Smith is discussed here, there is so much more to learn and see in the exhibit and throughout Reynolda House. The home is listed on the National Registry of Historic Places and worth a visit on its own. From the well-appointed main hall to the study where President Truman took a short nap, Reynolda House provides a glimpse into another era.
Admission is $18 per person and includes the exhibit and the house (see the sleeping porch!). Free admission is offered to select groups, such as children under the age of 18, students and military personnel with ID.
For more information about a day trip to Reynolda House and other entertaining activities at the Reynolda estate, click the "Things to do in Winston-Salem" tag and check out our story, "Visit Historic Reynolda for a Day of Retail Therapy, Delicious Food and Recreation."
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