By placing his own remains between those of Trimble and Adams-a descendant of two American Presidents, who was buried next to his wife-Vidal was, as he wrote, “midway between heart and mind, to put it grandly.” Trimble was killed at Iwo Jima, but he lived for the rest of Vidal’s life in fevered fantasies. Vidal also instructed that he and Howard Austen, his partner of fifty-three years, be buried near the grave of Jimmie Trimble, a blond athlete whom Vidal met when both were students at St. Vidal, who made millions in real estate, understood its first three commandments: location, location, location. This monument is the most visited site in the eighty-acre park, just across the street from the former Old Soldiers’ Home, where President Lincoln summered during the Civil War. From his villa in Ravello, Italy, he stipulated that his ashes be placed near an Augustus Saint-Gaudens sculpture commissioned by the historian Henry Adams, in memory of his wife, who committed suicide. The writer spent many hours negotiating the details of his grave. The odyssey that Vidal’s remains took before their interment was no less dramatic. When Buckley died, Vidal cheered, “RIP WFB-in hell.” Vidal outlived Buckley by four years, but never forgave the man who called him a “queer” in a 1968 televised debate. Buckley, Jr., in a new play by Alexandra Petri, called “Inherit the Windbag.” The play is in virtual rehearsals right now, at Washington, D.C.,’s Mosaic Theatre Company, but when a stage version opens, likely next spring, the groundskeeper at Rock Creek Cemetery would be well advised to keep an eye on Section E, Lot 293 ½, where Vidal’s ashes are buried. Eight years after his death, he is scheduled to cast shade on his nemesis, William F. The prickly writer, who thrived on making enemies, may soon be spewing venom from six feet under. “Never offend an enemy in a small way,” Gore Vidal once wrote.

Infested by Carol Gore