The Lives and Loves of Daisy and Violet Hilton: A True Story of Conjoined Twins by Dean Jensen Page B

the kidneys, along with “complications of age.”
The Billboard
put her years at “about eighty,” an estimate that likely was based on her appearance. In fact, she was sixty-seven.
    Daisy and Violet, in their memoir, said Mary’s death marked “a turning point” for them. They were orphans now. They had convinced themselves that if they could somehow get away from Myer, they could find help and finally gain some measure of independence. “We had become strangely wise and filled with unvoiced thoughts,” Violet said. 23
    It had angered Myer that Daisy and Violet hadn’t shown the slightest signs of sadness over their foster mother’s death. “Your hearts are made of flint,” he berated. “How could you be so unfeeling? Auntie had never shown you anything but tenderness and love. Had it not been for her, you’d be rotting today in an asylum.”
    The wake for Mary Hilton was held at the Harry G. Poole FuneralChapel in Atlanta. Daisy and Violet provided a detailed, if melodramatic, account of the vigil. While Edith and Myer were at the rear of the viewing room, visiting with callers who stopped by to offer condolences, the twins walked up to the coffin. For the first time, they observed, they were able to move within Auntie’s presence and not feel threatened.
    “As we looked at her, our first corpse, and, you might say, our first friend, the cunning and shrewdness seemed out of her face,” Daisy recalled. “I did … not care that she was dead.” 24
    Daisy looked to her sister and saw changes coming over her. Violet’s eyes were welling with tears and she was trembling.
    “Why cry?” Daisy whispered. “We have hated her forever.”
    “I’m afraid without her. Now Sir will boss us.”
    “Let’s run,” Daisy said.
    Violet was surprised by the challenge but felt emboldened by it. “We’ll never have this chance again.”
    “Let’s run!” Daisy repeated. 25
    The sisters turned from the coffin, and, with their heads bowed, began slowly walking toward the door. Daisy had moved only a few feet when she felt her sister lagging, as though Violet were carrying some great weight. She turned and saw Myer. He had dug his fat fingers into Violet’s shoulder. His face was crimson.
    “Don’t touch me,” Violet hissed, squirming and straining to break free.
    Myer dragged and pushed the twins to a seating area. Not wanting to create an even greater scene in the chapel, he said nothing. Finally he shoved the sisters onto a single chair beside Edith and, still glaring, signaled to them to remain seated. The sisters feared for the punishment they were sure was coming. However, after the family left the funeral chapel and returned to their hotel room, Myer stewed in silence as if he were waiting for the twins to offer some explanation.Violet was sobbing, still dreading the caning that she was certain was coming. Daisy was fearful of a whipping, too, but she wore an expression of smugness at having summoned the courage to take a stand against him. The wordless standoff between the twins and Myer was finally broken by Edith. She turned to her husband.

    Violet and Daisy at about eleven years old. Although it has the look of a candid snapshot, this photograph was probably an orchestrated publicity stunt, as the sisters did not have access to their own money. (Author’s collection)
    “Tell them.” she said.
    Myer dug into an attaché case and brought out a sheaf of typewritten pages that he waved before the twins’ faces. Next, he turned to the final sheet of the document. The page bore the inked signature of Mary Hilton. After a tense pause, Myer finally spoke.
    “You girls belong to us now,” he shouted, in a voice edged with triumph. “You’ll do just as we say. See here? Auntie left you to us. You and her jewelry and her furniture are now ours. Do you understand?” 26
    It is doubtful that any court in the land would have upheld a last will and testament that “willed” two minor children to another