Arthur Meeker (whose parents Arthur Sr. and Grace were often privy to your company) once described you as follows: "In many ways Edith McCormick was unique, unlike anybody else I have ever known. It was easy to smile - and many people did smile - at her peculiarities and pomposities. She took herself, and everything that concerned her, with tremendous seriousness; light touches she utterly lacked, likewise a sense of humour. One of my quaintest recollections is of a supper party she gave at the the Drake the night the hotel opened. It seems to me it must have been New Year's Eve...At all events the room was full of balloons; there was Edith, unsmiling, stiff as a poker, gravely battling them back and forth across our table, because that was what was expected of her."
Visiting your grave, I remembered what you once said: "If there was a book and a glass of milk at the table; and I were starving, I would choose the book," which serves to illustrate how excessively literal your mind indeed was. Regardless, you were a treasure, dear lady. It has been eighty years since you died but you will not be forgotten. Not a chance.