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★ ★ * ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ * ★ ★ ★ ★ * ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ * ★
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Published In this space •very month
The greatest star of the screen t
We're full of the milk of human kindness at this writing.
★ ★ ★ ★ We're gay, carefree. You can borrow money from us if you want to.
★ ★ ★ ★ In short, we're in good humor, and all because we've seen the most alluring musical motion picture since our movie- going began . . . M-G-M's "Meet Me In St. Louis".
★ ★ ★ ★ Whoops! Back you go to the old World's Fair in St. Louis as the guests of the Smith family, of which our favorite members are played by Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien.
★ ★ ★ ★ What gay, nostalgic, wonderful enter- tainment this is, enriched in every scene by rainbow Technicolor!
★ ★ ★ ★ Judy Garland seems to have been born for the part of Esther, a high school girl just awakening to love- for the boy next door. Esther is young, innocent, viva- cious, and golden- voiced.
★ ★ ★ ★ You will have to decide for yourself whether you prefer Judy's provocative presentation of a young girl in love or Judy's singing. Perhaps you'll find, as we did, both talents perfectly fused in "Over The Banister", "The Boy Next Door", or that bell-ringing success, "The Trolley Song". And these are only three of eight songs!
★ ★ ★ ★ Judy (that is, Esther) has a sister— an impish, devilish, utterly lov- able kid named "Tootie". In this part, Margaret O'Brien will become everyone's sweetheart— if she isn't everyone's sweetheart already.
★ ★ ★
Tom Drake, one of M-G-M's latest finds plays the boy next door and heads a splendidly-chosen supporting cast in- cluding Mary Astor, Marjone Main, Lucille Bremer, Joan Carroll, Henry H. Daniels, Jr., Leon Ames, and Harry Davenport.
★ ★ ★ ★
The script was written by Irving Brecher and Fred F. Finklehoffe. Arthur Freed, who gave us "Girl Crazy", produced, and Vincente Minnelli directed. They all have cause for pride.
★ ★ ★ *, Mark our words: gg*^ 01 M-G-M's "Meet Me In St. Louis" will strike you as about the best tuneful re- past ever displayed for your delight !
—£ea
modern screen
I *A CHRISTMAS SHE'LL NEVER FORGET
On Christmas, you weren't meant to be away from Mom, cold ana hungry and whimpering inside. That was one June Allyson Christ- mas, though, and that's why she's working to make up on this ^ one (color spread)
♦JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME
To a flock of medium-rares, breakfasts in bed, plaid shirts-and everybody's appreciation for a Gl job well done. It's Payne, we ^ mean (color spread)
NOBODY'S SWEETHEART • , , . , „
While there's a war on, Van Johnson is sticking close to his stag apartment-and keeping an eye peeled for a likely missus 30
^FofV^lit second, Danny Kaye stops looking like a gremlin glances at his wife and murmurs, "Sylvia's the headonmyshoul- ders-can't think of a better head I'd rather be attached to U
DRFoArM« SSK, Diana Lynn thought her "star bright, star light" routinTwas losing its kick. But when you're 18 and swarming with ^
dimples, how can you lose?
YOUR FAVORITE STARS OF 1944 by Louella Parsons
broken-down jeep, he was to become one of your top stars
'IE ME WERE SINGLE . . .!" by Hedda Hopper
wS Plan's crazy-about dogs and opera singers and big feet ^
and sh-sh — his wife!
'TlVa ZfllflelfwTLer forget . . Wng a starry path across the Atlantic, playing to front-line Yanks and staunch ^ Jugoslavs, ducking bombs in Naples
June Allyson in M-G-M's "Music For Millions" "
PAGES John Payne in 20th-Fox's "The Dolly Sisters"
Margaret O'Brien in M-G-M's "Meet Me In St. Louis SO
Mary Anderson in 20th-Fox's "Colonel Effingham's Raid
21
FEATURES | Editorial Page
BEAUTY I Perfume Weaves a Magic Spell
FASHION 'Modern Screen's Fashion Guide (color spread) <6
6
OEPTS. | Movie Reviews lg
Co-Ed 5&
Good News by Louella Parsons
Super Coupon
What's Cookin'. America ?-The Ronald Reagans
COVER: Joan Leslie in Warners' "Rhapsody in Blue" and "Hollywood Canteen." Kodachrome by Albin.
^ICTORYl AiRERT P DELACORTE, Executive Editor
I HENRY P ' MALMGREEN, Editor
BUY SYLVIA WALLACE. Hollywood Editor
united I KAY HARM, Hollywood Promotion Manager
fflU states QTTO sTORCH, Art Director
s/S^gs BILL WEINBERGER, Art Editor
?BONDS GUS GALE. Photographer
" 'Editorial Assistants: Charis Zeigler Annette Bellinger, Mickey Ghidalia Service Dept.: Ann Ward. Informat.on Desk: Beverly Linet
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TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT
■ I'd be willing to bet that the year's most famous love scene will be the one in "To Have and Have Not" between Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Bogart's tough, casual-but-romantic love-making has always been tops, and the sultry blonde Lauren is a perfect foil for him. That girl is really dynamite. Sexy one minute, almost child-like the next, and always with that tremendous charm. The picture has all the fascination of "Casablanca," and its theme song, "How Little We Know," will probably rival "As Time Goes By." Hoagy Carmichael wrote it, and he sings it himself with Lauren. You'll love him as the odd, plaintive piano player in the hotel in Fort de France.
Fort de France, on the island of Martinique, isn't a very safe place in 1940. The Vichy group is in charge, but there are Free French forces at work, too. Henry Morgan (Humphrey Bogart) takes fishing parties out in his boat and tries to mind his own business and keep out of politics. He succeeds, until Marie (Lauren Bacall) comes along. Marie is tall and blonde and so thin that Morgan calls her "Slim." We'll call her that, too. "Slim" is broke, and when she gets pushed around by the Vichy police, Morgan decides to get her out of Martinique. To obtain the money for her plane fare to the States, he takes on a job for the Free French — and thereby gets himself into plenty of trouble.
The job is to smuggle a couple of De Gaullists {Continued on page 8)
(Lauren Bacall) comes
to the island of Marti-
From the moment strange, fascinating "Slim'
nique.she brings trouble to Henry Morgan (Humphrey Bogart) and pal (Walter Brennan) They become implicated in an attempt to help her escape the Vichy pohce by plane to the U. b.
/
3 fate l&ep come . . . into tfctf t /leaUS
It's the story of guys tike Alan, Pinky and Irving.-*
of girls like Dorothy, Helen, Ruth. ..of things like gallantry,
guts and glory! Filmed from the Army Air Forces'
own smashing Broadway and Hollywood stage hit!
Prt. ION McCALUSTER • JEANNE GRAIN • Sgl, CdI. IE 1 COBB • I/Sgt PETER UNO HAYES
EDMQND O'BRIEN • JANE BALL • SgL MARK DANIELS • JO-CARROLL DENNISON • Cpl. DON TAYLOR • JUDY HOLLIDAY
.alanbaxier- DARRYL E. ZANIICK
directed t>»
' stage and Screen Plan t>v Moss Hart
MOVIE REVIEWS
(Continued from page 6)
into Fort de France. It would have been all right if the patrol boat hadn't come along. As it is, there's some shooting, and while Morgan gets away with it, the eyes of the police are upon him. Furthermore, "Slim" hasn't taken the plane home. She cashed in the ticket and is waiting at the hotel when Morgan gets back. "Did you want me to go?" she asks. She and Cricket, the piano player, are writing a song to- gether. She sings it the night the police captain and his men come for Morgan. The night Morgan really goes into action in the old Bogart manner. In addition to everything else, "To Have and Have Not" can boast one of the best supporting per- formances of all time. Walter Brennan, as old Eddie, Morgan's rum-soaked pal, is something. Excuse me while I go back to see it again. — War.
P. S.
The water front of Fort de France, capi- tal of Martinique, was duplicated on the Warner Brothers back lot as a major setting for this production, as much of the ac- tion takes place at sea. . . . The thirty- foot cabin cruiser is almost an identical duplicate of Bogart's own boat, the Sluggy. It was chartered and brought to the studio to cruise the tank sets with Bogey at the wheel. . . . Hoagy "Stardust" Carmichael makes his debut as a screen actor. He plays a piano in the Fort de France cafe and introduces his own new composition "How Little We Know." Mercer did the lyrics, and Hoagy and Lauren Bacall sing.
FRENCHMAN'S CREEK
In swashbuckling elegance, this story of handsome pirate and lovely lady wends its leisurely, romantic course. Technicolor gives the scenes on the coast of Cornwall a spectacular beauty, and red hair does the same for Joan Fontaine. Arturo De Cor- dova is properly dashing as the pirate.
This Dona St. Columb, beautiful as she is, cannot be commended on the score either of virtue or prudence. She breaks her marriage vows, is a traitor to her country and murders a man. Yet there is a gay, reckless courage and gallantry about her that makes it easy to forget all this.
Her husband, Harry (Ralph Forbes), is a fat gambler, too stupid to see that his friend, Rockingham (Basil Rathbone), is determined to seduce Dona. To escape from them both for a while, Dona takes her children to their country place in Cornwall. She finds the house practically closed up, the regular servants gone, and in their place one William (Cecil Kella- way), a sly, disconcerting old fellow who seems to know far too much about her. The first night, Dona discovers tobacco and a book of French essays in the stand by her bed. She sees William hasten off to answer a low whistle from the dark wood nearby. So when, the next day, she hears that a French pirate is terrorizing the coast and is thought to hide in that neigh- borhood, she puts two and two together and gets five. It turns out to be the right answer, and the pirate turns out to be the right man for Dona. Their romance is passionate, tempestuous and dangerous beyond belief. Dona accompanies her lover on a pirate raid and gets back just in time to avoid discovery by Harry and Rocking- ham, who arrive from London.
Rockingham takes one look at Dona's glowing eyes and knows that another man has succeeded where he has failed. He in his turn adds two and two and gets five.
"Frenchman's Creek" is Joan Fontaine's picture throughout. — Par.
P. S.
Nearly six months in the making, this Technicolor film nicked the company ex- chequer for a sum of $3,600,000. . . . One of the reasons for this tremendous figure was the long location trip necessary. Only available stretch of California seacoast re- sembling the coast of Cornwall was found in Mendocino County, 600 miles north of Hollywood. An inlet of the sea called Little River was chosen, and the location troupe of 250 persons set up headquarters on the site of the abandoned lumber town of Albion. ... A second unit, working under the direction of Hal Walker, re- mained another four weeks shooting back- ground material.
THE RRIGHTON STRANGLER
Do actors really live the parts they play on the stage? Here is the story of one who lived it h. 1 too well. Reginald Parker (John Loder) is a charming, popular actor who has achieved a terrific success in a play written by his fiancee. The play is called "The Strangler." It has been running for a year in blacked-out London to packed houses, but now Parker insists that he'll play it no longer. "I'm tired of strangling people," he says. "I've been doing it too long." The play's last per- formance is given on New Year's Eve. Afterward, at midnight, the theater is hit by a bomb. No one knows what happened to Parker, and when his fiancee hears nothing from him, he is presumed dead.
Actually, he was only hit on the head and stunned. When he comes to, he has forgotten that he is Reginald Parker. He remembers only the character of Edward Grey, the "strangler" in the play. He knows that Grey went to Brighton and strangled the Lord Mayor and the Chief of Detectives. So, obeying a terrible inner compulsion, Parker entrains for Brighton.
He talks with apparent normality to a pretty WAAF who happens to sit beside him. Her name is April Manby (June Duprez) , and she's going home to visit her mother and father. She finds this hand- some stranger pleasant and considerate and introduces him to her family when they arrive. He tells them his name is Edward Grey and that he is "on business."
A weird, grisly business it is. For Parker's subconscious mind tells him he must strangle the Lord Mayor and the Chief of Detectives. He has the silk cord he used in the play in his pocket, and he fingers it from time to time with a mad, unholy eagerness. He makes his plans carefully, and everything goes according to schedule. The Lord Mayor is an old man. Too old to fight off this terrible stranger who wishes him to die.
The next murder is equally easy. Chief Inspector Allison is walking alone on a dark street when the silk cord tightens around his throat. But now the strangler is haunted by fear. Does April Manby sus- pect him? If she does, she too must die.
John Loder gives a brilliant performance as the mad strangler. Rose Hobart, Michael St. Angel and Miles Mander are among the cast. — RKO.
P. S.
This picture was adapted to the screen by Arnold Phillips and Max Nosseck from an original story they had planned for publication us a novel. . . . The well- known European director, Max Nosseck, brings to its production the continental (Continued on page 10)
4*N
1* '
■
with J
STEV
OHN RIDGEL? • JOHN ALEXANDER • CRAIG ENS • BARBARA BROWN • ALAN MOWBRAY
Directed by JAMES V. KERN
Screen Play by James V. Kern and Sam Hellman • Additional Dialogue by Wilkie Mahoney From the Stage Play by Joseph A. Fields* Produced by Max Gordon
JACK L WARNER, Executive Producer
F-ocW by MARK HELLINGER
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MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS
It is 1903, and a pretty high school girl is sitting on the front porch humming "Meet Me In St. Louis, Louis." The rest of St. Louis is singing the same song, for it won't be long now before the Worlds Fair opens there. But Esther Smith (Judy Garland) happens to be humming it extra loud, as out of the corner of her eye she glimpses the boy next door. He's a very handsome boy who has just moved in there, and so far he has shown no signs of knowing Esther is alive.
"What's he doing now?" she says under her breath to her sister, Rose (Lucille Bremer). "Lighting his pipe," Rose tells her. Esther sighs ecstatically. "I love a man that smokes a pipe." Rose isn't much interested. She's worried about how she can get the rest of the family out of the dining room by the time her long distance phone call comes through from New York, at six-thirty. Her Yale beau, Warren (Robert Sully) , has said he would call her then. Maybe he's going to propose at last! She can't bear it if she has to talk to him in front of Mother (Mary Astor) and Dad (Leon Ames) and her little sisters. The little Smith girls, Tootie (Margaret O'Brien) and Agnes (Joan Carroll), are usually considered "adorable children," but Rose knows how devastating their com- ments can be.
Rose gets her call, but it's not a pro- posal. Warren asks her how she is and reports on the weather in New York and inquires about the weather in St. Louis. Then the time's up! Very discouraging! Esther is discouraged, too. John (Tom Drake), the boy next door, continues to ignore her. In fact it takes her all that summer to get him to the point where he calls her Esther instead of Miss Smith. Then one day they go out with a crowd to look over the site of the Fair which will open soon, and somehow they get separ- ated from the rest. Esther makes with the eyelashes, and— at long last— love blooms.
Mr. Smith picks this awkward time to decide to move the family to New York. Just when everything is exciting, with Warren coming to St. Louis, and Tootie almost getting arrested, and Esther going around with stardust in her eyes. Do they go? Well, I'll leave you to find out.
Given Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien, supported by a fine cast, any picture would be good. This one has the additional advantages of an amusing story, and Technicolor.— M-G-M.
P. S.
Gang on the set learned about Judy's famous Thursday, maids -night- out fried chicken dinners. Flocked over to share the fun of helping toss salad and open the Pepsis. Itfs a free for all, make-it-yourself dinner where everyone, especially the cook, has fun. . . . Margaret O'Brien, be- coming famous for her recitation of the Gettysburg Address, is asked to recite at most every party she attends. Went to Mama with a weighty new problem (they arise daily) . She wanted to know why she never did an encore when everyone^ else on the program did encores. "There's no encore to the Gettysburg Address, dear,' explained her mother. "Then," decided the young actress, "let's write one!"
(Continued on page 12)
AUTOGRAPHS!
Yours, yours, all yours — and all for a quarter each! Twenty-five cents nets you Turner or Gable or Bey or Miranda or Sinatra — one dollar gets you all five.' Yup, we've got an extra, five-for- the-price-of-four-special, a cut rate cut-down which gives you a bonus of one signature free for every four you buy. And snazzy they are, too, NAA emblem cards personally autographed by any star you choose from the list below, with the money going to Mrs. Virginia Zanuck's NAVAL AID AUXILIARY Fund which provides free medical care, canteens, lodgings and other necessities to sailors and their families. So — come 'n' give it
June Allyson Don Ameche Mary Anderson Dana Andrews Jean Arthur
Lynn Bari Lionel Barrymore Anne Baxter William Bendix Joan Bennett Ingrid Bergman Turhan Bey Janet Blair Joan Blondell Humphrey Bogart Charles Boyer Eddie Bracken Barbara Britton Jim Brown
Eddie Cantor Claudette Colbert Ronald Colman Gary Cooper Joseph Cotten James Craig Jeanne Crain Dick Crane Laird Cregar Bing Crosby Xavier Cugat
Helmut Dantine Linda Darnell Bette Davis Laraine Day Gloria De Haven Olivia de Havilland Tommy Dlx Brian Donlevy Tom Drake Jimmy Durante
William Eythe
Jinx Falkenburg Alice Paye Errol Flynn
John Garfield Judy Garland Peggy Ann Garner Greer Garson Paulette Goddard Betty Grable Farley Granger Cary Grant Bonita Granville Kathryn Grayson Sidney Greenstreet
Alan Hale Dare Harris Signe Hasso June Haver Dick Haymes Susan Hayward Rita Hayworth Paul Henreid Katharine Hepburn John Hodiak Bob Hope Marsha Hunt Walter Huston Betty Hutton Bob Hutton
Richard Jaeckel Harry James Gloria Jean Van Johnson Jennifer Jones Brenda Joyce
Danny Kaye Gene Kelly Kay Kyser
Alan Ladd Hedy Lamarr Dorothy Lamour Carole Landis Priscilla Lane Joan Leslie John Loder Myrna Loy Ida Lupino Diana Lynn
Roddy McDowall Lon McCallister Dorothy McGuire Irene Manning Trudy Marshall Marilyn Maxwell Ray Milland Carmen Miranda Thomas Mitchell Maria Montez George Montgomery Constance Moore Dennis Morgan George Murphy
Lloyd Nolan
Jack Oakie Merle Oberon Margaret O'Brien Virginia O'Brien Donald O'Connor Maureen O'Hara Dennis O'Keefe Michael O'Shea
John Payne Gregory Peck Susan Peters Walter Pidgeon William Powell Tyrone Power
Frances Rafferty George Raft Ella Raines Martha Raye Ronald Reagan Donna Reed Ginger Rogers Roy Rogers Rosalind Russell Ann Rutherford Eddie Ryan Peggy Ryan
Randolph Scott Ann Sheridan Dinah Shore Phil Silvers Ginny Simms Frank Sinatra Red Skelton Alexis Smith Ann Sothern Barbara Stanwyck
Shirley Temple Gene Tierney Franchot Tone Spencer Tracy Sonny Tufts Lana Turner
Robert Walker John Wayne Cornel Wilde Esther Williams Jane Withers Monty Woolley Teresa Wright Jane Wyman
Loretta Young Robert Young
Enclosed please find 25c in □ stamps, □ paper-wrapped coin, for an NAA card autographed by
f I understand I am to enclose 25c for each l additional autograph I request but that only $1.00 will now pay for 5 autographs.
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NAA EDITOR
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I'LL BE SEEING YOIJ
The most important thing about "I'll Be Seeing You" is probably not the fact that it has a scene where Shirley Temple gets a little bit tight. But when I think of the days of "Little Miss Marker —tsk! tsk! time certainly marches on! Shirley s role is only incidental to the main love story, that of Ginger Rogers and Joseph Cotten. It's a love story in which boy is kept from getting girl by two inescapable facts.
A Boy is a psychoneurotic case on leave
from an Army hospital. B— Girl is on Christmas vacation from prison.^
If that "vacation from prison business sounds a little odd, just remember that prisons aren't like they used to be, and wardens are learning psychology. Mary (Ginger Rogers) is a well behaved prisoner who has served four years of her seven- year term. The warden thinks she should begin to adjust herself to the outside world again. Mary is guilty of manslaughter, in the eyes of the law, although its difficult to see how she could have avoided doing what she did. She was working in an office, and her boss invited her to a party. When she got there, she found she was all the "party" there was. The boss was drunk and on the make, and in the ensuing struggle he fell out of the window. If it had been a first floor window, no one would ever have known anything about the incident. But it was the fourteenth, and Mary was, in the eyes of the law, the cause of his death.
Zach (Joseph Cotten) is a psychoneurotic case because he has been a good soldier. Too good. He did his job and killed a lot of Japs, and finally his system couldn't take it any longer. He cracked up.
He and Mary meet on a train. They both have ten days, but Zach doesn't know where Mary is from or that she has to go back He only knows she gives him such a feeling of calm support that he wants to stay near her. So he gets off with her at the small town where she s going to visit her aunt and uncle, the Marshalls.
The Marshalls have a daughter, Barbara (Shirley Temple). At seventeen, you re inclined to dramatize things, and Barbara regards Mary as definitely an outcast from society. One day she talks too much, and the delicate, beautiful love affair which has begun between Zach and Mary is shattered. Still, it might be possible to pick up the pieces, if two people cared enough. — U.A.
P. S.
A brand new motion picture institution is launched with the release of this picture. It's Vanguard Films, Inc., which is offering "I'll Be Seeing You." . . . Ginger Rogers has the fashion tables turned on her. Had to step down from her sartorial platform and let Shirley Temple climb up to be glamorized. Ginger, as a prisoner on Christmas furlough, couldn t have much of a wardrobe variety. . . . Speaking of Christmas furloughs for convicts— Van- guard, seeking information on such a plan from parole boards, discovered its being widely discussed, pro and con, in all of the forty-eight states. . . . Specialists at Hoff General Hospital at Santa Barbara were called in as technical advisers on scenes dealing with Joe Cotten as a re- turned soldier, victim of psychoneurosis.
TOMORROW THE WORLD
Can a boy reared under the Nazi regime ever be a decent citizen by American standards? That problem is presented with fascinating realism in this picture made from the Broadway play. The re- markable performance of young Skippy Homeier is responsible for much of its
INFORMATION DESK
(Questions of the Month) By Beverly Linet
Hello:
Gosh, Christmas already! It doesn t seem possible that so much time has elapsed since I gazed longingly at the beach ads and sort of wondered why my office didn't sprout an adjoining swimming pool. But time has flown, and a lot has happened since then.
I've seen scads of new pre-release pix and premieres, and have dis- covered some terrific new up-and- comers. Have patted Trigger, taken cowgirl tintypes with Janie Withers, rubbed shoulders with Joseph Cotten at an opening night, and run plunk into Orson Welles in my rush to get to the movies. I was even present when that villainous character threw those eggs when our Frankie was ap- pearing on the Paramount stage.
So, isn't there something you want to know? If yes, just drop a line with that stamped, self-addressed envelope to- Beverly Linet, Information Desk, MODERN SCREEN, 149 Madison Avenue, New York 16, New York.
Luv,
Bev.
Ethel Miller, Brooklyn, N. Y.: WHY IS IT WHEN I REQUEST PIX FROM THE STUDIOS AND STARS, I NEVER RECEIVE THEM? . . . Due to the severe paper shortage, all the studios are unable to distribute free photos, with the ex- ception of M-G-M, which sends out 3 x 4's. However, if you wish photos from any studio, include 25c with your request for size 8 x 10, and 10c for 5 x 7's.
Florence Shack, L. I.: MAY I HAVE LON McCALLISTER'S ARMY AD- DRESS? . . . It's agin' studio rules to spout service and home addresses, but since Lon is not at any camp now (he's touring in "Winged Victory"), you can best reach him at Box 2990, Hollywood, California.
appeal. He is aided by such expert crafts- men as Fredric March, Betty Field and Asnes Moorehead. Joan Carroll is effective as the small girl who tries to teach the Nazi boy sportsmanship. - .
She has very tough going indeed in her attempt. Emil Bruckner has lived his twelve years in Nazi Germany He has nothing but contempt for the softness and stupidity of these American relatives who take him into their home. He regards his uncle Michael (Fredric March) with cu- riosity and his cousin Pat (Joan Carroll) with condescension. She is a girl, and girls are not important in the Nazi world.
Emil is shocked to find that his uncle is engaged to a Jewess. Leone (Betty Field) is an attractive, intelligent school teacher, but Emil can't understand how Michael can marry a member of an out- cast race. He decides to break up this attachment immediately.
It is odd how slow the members of the household are to realize the sinister char- acter of their visitor. Perhaps it is because in America boys of twelve are occupied with baseball or making toy airplanes, not spy work and doctrinization. Only Frieda the German cook, sees the danger. Emil ingratiates himself with his aunt Jessie, and she soon is on his side against Leone. He even persuades his uncle, who only sees him on his best behavior that he is becoming Americanized. So Michael is shocked and angry at Leone's increasing antagonism toward the boy.
(Continued on page 14)
Kf^'S MOST EXCITING ROMAIC CO^H
WITH
COBUM
Screen Play by Virginia Van Upp and F. Hugh Herbert
Produced by VIRGINIA VAN UPP • Directed by CHARLES VIDOR
13
Use this
SUPER VALUE BRUSH
by the makers of Dr. best's Miracle-Tuft Toofhbrush
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Pat is non-committal. She does every- thing possible to make Emil feel at home, but she can see that all their efforts are getting nowhere. Emil is still a Nazi. It is through Pat, eventually, that the situa- tion comes to a climax. It is through her, too, that it is resolved.— U. A.
P. S.
In bringing this story to the screen, Producer Lester Cowan believes he is also bringing movie audiences the meanest, nastiest juvenile menace in history. It is twelve-year-old Skippy Homeier, who created the role on Broadway, and reaches heights in villainy that would embarrass a Karloff, a Lorre or a hugosi. . . . Fred- ric March had seen the play in New York and knew that Skippy was likely to steal the picture, but eagerly accepted Cowans offer because of the importance oj the story. . . . Miss Betty Field, almost f or the first time in pictures, played a straight role. . . . Through all the assault, bat- tery and mayhem in the picture, Skippy and Rudy Wissler were the only casualties. They came down with poison oak as a result of falling into the stuff during film- ing of their battle on the final day of the shooting schedule.
THE THIN MAN GOES HOME
Crime statistics should take a rapid drop, now that the Thin Man is back on the job. William Powell as Nick Charles is still the most fascinating detective on record, and Myrna Loy is still the most charming detective's wife. Asta once more leers happily at lamp posts.
Nick and Nora are transposed from their usual gilded haunts of sin to a new locale. It's the sleepy town of Sycamore Springs,
where Nick grew up. He hasn't been back for a long time. His father Dr. Charles (Harry Davenport) doesn't ap- prove of detectives, particularly the Scotch-drinking variety. When Nick is asked to take a case involving subversive activities in his home town, he protests wildly. "I'd die of thirst!" But he goes at last, still protesting, and Nora goes, too.
Nick's mother (Lucille Watson) is de- lighted to see them. And when Dr. Charles finds that Nick has switched from Scotch to sweet cider, he greets them with enthusiasm. Not so enthusiastic are some other characters around town. "Crazy Mary," for instance, a witch-like fugitive from a strait- jacket, conks Nick over the head with a coffee pot at the first oppor- tunity. The president of the bank regards Nick's detecting with a coldness that might stem from a guilty conscience.
Something peculiar is certainly under way in the town. Nick's arrival acts as a catalytic agent, and within a few days, there are two murders. Then there is the matter of the painting which Nora bought as a birthday present for Nick, and which appears and disappears in the most out- rageous fashion. Nick is not entranced with the painting, but he objects to having his possessions swiped at regular intervals.
Nora, of course, knows who did the murders. She even confides his name to Nick. Unfortunately, her candidate for the electric chair is a New York police detective in disguise. But he makes a nice suspect to keep her out of mischief , while Nick does the real sleuthing. Until you've seen Nora "tailing" her suspect, you haven't lived! It's all very merry, as well as mystifying, and you'll find Gloria De Haven, Helen Vinson, Donald Meek and Anne Revere among those under suspi- cion.— M-G-M.
U;t,*ltL"i»fQL^Lr,« tZ, Jk 'cau» our „ppl» «rt U« long- another wonderful Dell book.
QUESTIONNAIRE
e? Write 1, 2, 3
What stories and features did you enjoy most in our January issue at the right of your 1st, 2nd and 3rd choices.
Journey Among Warriors (John
.. □
A Xmas She'll Never Forget
(June Ally son) Johnny Comes Marching Home
(John Payne) U ton McCallister, Life Story, Part I □ Dream Walking (Diana Lynn) □ Nobody's Sweetheart (Van Johnson) □ Which of the above did you like LEAST? What 3 stars would you like to read about in future issues? order of preference
Garfield) □
Oh, Kaye! (Danny Kaye) □ Your Favorite Stars of 1944 by
Louella Parsons LI "// He Were Single . . ./" (Walter
Pidgeon) by Hedda Hopper Good News by Louella Parsons □
List them 1, 2, 3 in
14
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City.
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State
My name is
My address is
I am years ol<L
ADDRESS THIS TO: POLL DEPT.. MODERN SCREEN 149 MADISON AVENUE. NEW YORK 16. N. Y.
P. s.
A painting of Bill Powell, copied and photographed onto canvas by an Italian artist, was discovered on the walls of a Venetian castle by Sgt. J. C. Lewis (Diana's brother) in Italy. Sgt. Lewis mailed the picture home in a shell case. Bill gave it to his mother as a birthday gift. . . . Dur- ing production Mrs. Asta (wife of the fam- ous movie star) gave birth to quintuplets. Present for the proud father came to the set. It was a box with five tiny fire-plugs, and the card said, "From one doggoned good family to another. Lassie." . . . Donald and Mrs. Meek left for Mexico after Don's scenes were completed. It's their first vacation for ten years. Both have been studying Spanish for several months. . . . Myrna learned to jitterbug from her maid, Theresa Penn, who is a national champion. Theresa supplied the jive records, and the two spent hours to- gether cutting rugs.
AND NOW TOMORROW
When Alan Ladd plays a doctor, he leaves out the bedside manner. He uses a hypodermic needle as if it were a ma- chine gun. In "And Now Tomorrow" his Dr. Merek Vance is as hard and cynical as any gangster he ever played, yet under- neath the hardness are the qualities which a good doctor needs most — courage and understanding.
He needs understanding especially for the case of Emily Blair. Emily, played by Loretta Young, is the aristocratic and beautiful owner of the Blairstown mills. She has never come into contact with poverty or illness — until she has an attack of meningitis which leaves her stone deaf. Emily is engaged to Jeff Stoddard (Barry Sullivan), but she has too much pride to let the marriage go through, now that she has lost her hearing. She tries to give Jeff back his ring, but he makes her keep it and tells her she'll soon be cured.
His optimism is not justified. For two years Emily travels from one specialist to another, only to learn that there is no cure for deafness caused by meningitis. At last she comes back to Blairstown, and her. family doctor (Cecil Kellaway) per- suades her to let his young assistant, Dr. Vance, try some new serum treatments.
Vance and Emily are antagonistic from the beginning, yet they feel a subconscious attraction. Vance is the son of a mill worker and has hated the Blair family since his poverty-stricken childhood. Em- ily resents this attitude and also his cavalier rudeness to her, as a patient. Yet when she knows him better, she admires him both as a doctor and as a man.
Jeff, meanwhile, has involved himself in a secret romance with Emily's sophis- ticated sister, Janice (Susan Hay ward). You can't blame him too much — Emily has been away a long time, and she never did love him in Janice's wild, reckless fashion. But he doesn't want to hurt Em- ily, and in spite of Janice's pleas, is pre- pared to marry her if she still wants him.
She thinks she does want him. She even plans the wedding and rehearses it. Then two things happen in quick succes- sion which change her whole life. — Par.
P. S.
Paramount's picturization of the Rachel Field best seller brings Alan Ladd back before the cameras following ten months' service in the United States Air Corps.
. . Cecil Kellaway bicycled between the sets of "And Now Tomorrow" and "Prac- tically Yours." N. Y. was also paging him for "Out of This World," but other com- mitments prevented him from accepting.
in wartime as in peace
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FAREWELL, MY LOVELY
Not since "The Glass Key" has there been as tough, fast-moving and absorbing a thriller as "Farewell, My Lovely. The characters in it aren't nice people, and they'll probably give you nightmares, but they'll also give you an exciting two hours. Marlowe, the private detective, is a new kind of role for Dick Powell, and he han- dles it well. Marlowe is no Sunday School type, but he has his good qualities. One of them is that he never lets a client down. Even after the client has been murdered.
As you can imagine, this doesn't endear him to the murderer. In fact, from that first moment when a huge hulk of a man called "Moose" Malloy comes into Mar- lowe's office, no insurance company would give you a dime on the detectives life. On the face of it, what "Moose" (Mike Mazurki) wants is simple. He wants Velma. When he went to jail six years ago, Velma, a beautiful redhead, said she d be waiting for him when he came out. Now he's out, and where's Velma? That s what he wants Marlowe to discover.
Marlowe gets another case the same night, but an odd coincidence. Or is it a coincidence? A man named Marriott asks him to go along while he buys back some jade stolen by crooks. The trip doesn't turn out so well. Marlowe is slugged, and while he's unconscious, someone murders Marriott.
Tracing his late customer's activities leads Marlowe into some peculiar situa- tions. He meets old Mr. Grayle and his voluptuous young wife (Claire Trevor). He also meets Grayle's daughter, Ann. Anne Shirley makes her the only nice, normal person in the whole picture, so it's no wonder he falls in love with her But he still has to find out who killed Marriott, so he plays along with Mrs. Grayle— who plays rough. Through her, he is led to a psychiatrist, is beaten up thoroughly and finally meets "Moose'. Malloy again. Marlowe makes some fancy deductions, and the shooting starts. When it's all over, you'll need hot milk and aspi- rin to soothe your shattered nerves. — RKO.
P. S.
This is based on Raymond Chandler's book, which is one of the most widely read of modem detective novels. . . .
Locale is Los Angeles and environs, and movie-goers will see shots of the notorious "skid row," glamorous Hollywood, swanky Beverly Hills and beautiful Malibu Beach.
. The giant heavyweight wrestler, Mike Mazurki, while still active in the grunt-and-groan profession, has been scor- ing well as an actor. He won the part of Moose Malloy against three "name" com- petitors, via a screen test taken the day after he returned from a wrestling tour.
TOGETHER AGAIN
As light as a powder puff, and as mad as the flower hat upon which the plot hinges, this is a perfect vehicle for Irene Dunne. Playing opposite her is suave Charles Boyer and not-so-suave-but-very- helpful Charles Coburn. Mona Freeman, Charles Dingle and Adele Jergens com- plete the roll call. . . ,
If Anne Crandall (Irene Dunne) nadnt bought that hat, she would still be the mayor of Brookhaven, Vermont. She would still be devoting her time to carry- ing on in her late husband's footsteps and spoiling her step-daughter, Diana. Anne's husband had been the mayor and central character of the town, and when he died, Anne took over. "But Jonathan wouldnt approve of the way you're wasting your life" her father-in-law (Charles Coburn); tells her. "He'd want you to have fun.
Anne has gotten out of the habit of having fun. When the statue of her hus- band in the village square loses its head m a windstorm, Anne is asked to go to New York and get a sculptor to do another statue. But she is shocked by her father- in-law's advice "to get a crazy hat and have a good time for yourself."
However, she does succumb to a crazy hat, and the rest seems to follow. The hat, consisting of a single rose, is devastatmgly becoming. So much so that the sculptor Corday (Charles Boyer) mistakes her for a model. He takes her out to dinner, and there Anne runs into trouble. She spills wine on her dress, and while she's changing it in the powder room, the night club is raided. The police think Anne is the strip tease artist, and she's tossed into jail.
She leaves New York the next day, but the damage has been done. The hat has caused Corday to fall in love with her. He follows her to Vermont where Annes
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YOUR FAVORITE STARS OF 1944
include the first forty-five on the M. S. popularity poll.
1. Frank Sinatra
2. Alan Ladd
3. Pvt. Lon McCallister
4. Van Johnson
5. Betty Grable
6. Capt. Ronald Reagan
7. Lana Turner
8. Gene Kelly
9. Shirley Temple
10. John Payne
11. Bing Crosby
12. Lieut. Jean Pierre Aumont
13. Pvt. Donald O'Connor
14. Alice Faye
15. Dennis Morgan
16. Lieut. Tyrone Power
17. Sonny Tufts
18. Merchant Seaman Dick Jaeckel
19. Rita Hayworth
20. Greer Garson
21. S2/c Farley Granger
22. (Tied) Judy Garland (Tied) Helmut Dantine
Dana Andrews Bob Walker Paulette Goddard 27. Roy Rogers
Gloria De Haven* Sonja Henie . .. Betty Hutton
31. June Allyson*
32. Errol Flynn
33. Cary Grant
34. James Craig*
35. Joseph Cotten
36. Sgt. Glenn Ford George Montgomery Gloria Jean Bill Eythe* Clark Gable Dick Haymes* Turhan Bey* Deanna Durbin Danny Kaye Peggy Ryan
24 25 26
28 29 30
37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45.
*Low ra%KZ7tolaTiaTZrlas only recently appeared in a ™«Jj «JJJ SREEN poll since "Two Girls And A Sailor" was released.
stepdaughter gets a yen for the sculptor. The rest is catch-as-catch-can until the statue of Jonathan once more loses its head, and Anne loses her heart. — Col.
P. S.
Irene Dunne has learned to jitterbug! Claims she had the best teacher in the world — her own daughter, Mary Frances Griffin. . . . Requests from overseas servicemen often ask for records. Since it's impossible to send regular discs through the mails because of the break- age, Irene has been recording songs on cardboard discs which are just large enough for a verse and a chorus. . . . Irene has also turned composer and written a song for the WAVES titled ■ Long May They WAVE." She's the first Hollywood star to make U. S. service- women her personal concern. When she learned that they are not admitted to many of the canteens in the Celluloid City, she started inviting them to her home for a weekly tea when she is between pictures.
THE FUGITIVE
Gloria Jean has to cope with the diffi- cult role of a blind girl with supernatural powers, in this new picture. She is more convincing than you might expect. The title role is played by Alan Curtis — a fugi- tive from the police throughout the picture. Frank Craven, Frank Fenton, Grace Mc- Donald and Minna Gombell give him moral or immoral support, depending on which side of the law they're on.
Cliff Banks (Alan Curtis) is a fugitive because he has been innocently involved in a bank robbery. The origin of the in- volvement dates back a few years to San Francisco. Cliff comes into a night club there, a fresh, cocky kid who thinks he knows all the answers. He falls for the singer, Phyllis (Vivian Austen), who in- troduces him to a bad hat named Sam Baker. Through Sam, Cliff gets mixed up in a safe cracking job, and after that the cops catch him and pop him into San Quentin for three years. When he comes out, he's determined to go straight. He goes to work in a factory and is leading an upright, if monotonous, existence when whom should he meet on the road to town one day but good old Sam! He gives him a lift to town. He isn't even suspicious when Sam asks him to wait in front of the bank while he cashes a check. It isn't until he hears shots that Cliff realizes he has once more been tricked into taking part in a robbery. The police are hot on his trail, and he's once more a fugitive.
Cliff stops in his flight at the ranch of Clem Broderick and his daughter, Jane (Gloria Jean). Jane is blind, but nature has endowed her with senses the rest of us do not possess. Cliff is impressed by her lovely innocence. That night he dreams that he kills Clem and pursues Jane madly across the ranch. He wakes up shuddering and decides to leave before he succumbs to the temptation to make the dream come true. Does he go? Or does Jane's sweetness reform him? This department will be glad to hold the stakes if anyone would care to bet. — Univ.
P. S.
Gloria rehearsed for her scene, which co-stars a swarm of bees, garbed in net- ting and a long, tight-fitting robe. In actual shooting she had to brave the swarm with bare arms and legs. Strangely, she dAdn't suffer one sting. . . . Frank Craven celebrated his sixtieth year in the theater by stating he intends to die with his stage make-up on. He's one of America's outstanding collectors of theat- rical keepsakes, and on his birthday he was presented with the stage door of the Bos- ton Museum Theater— famous in the 1800's.
HOLLYWOOD'S
PAN-AMERICAN
MUSICAL ROMANCE!
Romance rides on the wings of melody and gaiety! Thrill to the new delights of an en- chanted land abounding in exciting escapades of dash- ing vaqueros and dazzling senoritas.
REPUBLIC PICTURE
By Jean Kinkead
£J IIIMFORMATCC*.'/ /y ,
Tongue-tied at strategic moments? Or worse, a nonsensical babbler? You needn't be any more!
■ Making with the right words comes awfully hard to some of us. Oh, we speak the language all right; it's not that. It's coping with difficult situations— like ac- cepting a compliment or dishing one out; like brushing off a persistent beau without crushing same; like dis- agreeing with someone violently but with dignity. How can you possibly be smooth when you keep finding yourself speechless at crucial moments, or worse still, uttering all the wrong noises? That's right, joe, you can't, but take heart. Here are some bright, right words for you to study and remember.
"Gee You're Beautiful!" Maybe he won't say it in so many words. More likely it'll come out, "Whee, lookit you!" Anyway, sugar, it's a compliment, and it's your cue to be pleased. If you get flustered and
fluttery, saying, "My hair never looked worse," or "What? In this old bag?" you'll embarrass him to death, and he'll wind up thinking you don't look so hot at that. Next time he says something sweet, beam at him and say, "There you go stealing my line. I was just thinking how wonderful you look," or "I don't believe it, but I love it," or just plain, "Gosh, thank you, Bill."
The guys like a kind word too now and then, so don't forget to say approving things about new jackets, new overcoats, even a new hair-cut, if you can, in conscience. Don't lay it on; just let it go at, "Mmm, mad for the new coat," or— unfeminine, but okay nonetheless— give them the old double whistle.
/ Disagree: It starts off just plain chit-chat with you and Jane and Dot, but somehow (Continued on page 68)
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■Yesterday, Al Delacorte called me on the phone, "Frank," he said, "I know you're a busy guy. But would you like to ... I mean would you be willing to speak a little piece about Christmas on our readers' page? You see . . ."
I cut in. "Sure I see. And if I'm busy, so what? I love Christmas. I love your readers. And, if you must know, I love MODERN SCREEN!"
So here I am — a writer! I ought to call this the "Re- venge of Frank Sinatra." All this year (not to mention last year) , everyone has been too nice to me. Everything has come my way. I've been dying for this chance to get back and tell how I feel about you ... at Christmas.
I'm a pushover for Christmas. I go for the tall, sweet- smelling trees, the tinsel balls, the puddings and eggnog — even Crosby's "Silent Night." But above all, I cherish
the thought that Christmas is the day dedicated to friendship.
These days, when hatred is still fighting crazily for its dictatorship, it is good to know that the sacred legend of Christmas is alive in the hearts of Americans: Peace on earth. Good will toward men.
My one regret this Christmas will be that I cannot go to each loyal friend and say, "You've been wonderful. Merry Christmas* And God bless you!"
P.S. If I were to get a Christmas card from you (ad- dressed to Modern Screen), I'd not only be tickled * silly. I'd be deeply touched.
a xmas shell never forget
June Allyson can't forge* it — rain and
tears and aching for Mom and running away.
■ June trudged along in the rain, and her small suitcase flopped against her leg.
Three days before Christmas. Fine Christmas it was going to J>e. She'd probably get pneumonia and die, and then she'd be sorry. On second thought, si/ 1 as hei not die just yet. But she'd certainly hover on the brink for a good long time, and the doctor'd say, "She's sinking rapidly," and for one awful minute they'd think she was dead, then her lids would flutter, and she'd smile this angelic smile, faint but forgiving —
People turned to look at her. Rain pouring down and no umbrella. Could they tell she was running away? After all, twelve wasn't so young— she just
happened to be small for her age. Besides, you couldn't call it really running away— not when you were going to New York to find your mother.
There was the station now. If only she had the money for a ticket, how easy it would be. Hop on the train, change to the subway, get off at 138th and wait in the flat till Mother got home from work. Mothers understand. She always understood. Maybe she'd let June stay till after Christmas.
Well, she didn't have the money, not even a penny of it, so she'd just have to walk. Her eyes turned from the station to the rainswept road ahead, and back. It wouldn't hurt to go in and rest for a while— give the rain a chance to let up maybe.
June ond Gloria ("The Comb") live in almost identical apts. across the street from' each other, yet never double date. Puppy, whose trainer didn't know its name or sex, is a gift for Margaret O'Brien.
Separated early from her mother, June had a lonely ch, dhood She d like this coming Xmas to be brightest yet to make up fo. Jast years when, sick and tired, she was p.a.^ing at N. Y. s Cap.tol Theater.
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June shares her love of dogs with Bette Davis, still has a soft spot in her heart for her mutt "Winsocki" who one day went out looking for her — and never returned!
By Ida Zeitlin
a. -
Denying those 4 baths per day are for weight-whittling purposes, June washes fier hair daily but is careless about her clothes, drops 'em all over the apt. and neglects mending and pressing angle.
Al Delacorte had a finger in the sizzling John Payne-Glo De Haven romance. Seems Sue Ladd arranged to have John pick her up for Ye Ed's party and bingo! they've been dating 3, 4 times a v/eek!
continued-
23
a xmas she'll never forget
She sat down at the end of a bench near the radiator, took off her hat and shook out some of the water, adjusted her braced back to the back of the seat. If not for the brace, she wouldn't get tired so quick. Three years now she'd been wearing it- three years since she'd been caught under that fall- ing tree in front of Granny's little house. And the doctor said she'd have to wear it two more years at least. Well, anyhow they'd stopped shaving her head where the wound had been. Her hair was getting almost long enough to stick a bow in— if she had a bow —
My, it was nice and warm here. The radiator was even making her drowsy. She leaned her head back, and pictures began forming ...
Last Christmas at Granny's. Something twisted inside her, the way it always did when she thought of Granny. But last Christmas she'd still been happy. Come to think of it, she'd never been sad in Granny's little house. Not even through those long months in bed after the accident. Granny 'd always been there to make her feel good, and Mother stayed with them a lot. It didn't cost as much as coming out to Long Island. All she had to do was ride to the end of the subway line for a nickel, then take the streetcar.
Last Christmas she'd come in laughing out of . the cold and put her packages under the tree. June's present was the loveliest white silk blouse. This Christmas- June's eyes filled. She knew she'd been bad, but .it hadn't seemed so dreadful when she did it —
All she wanted was to keep her father's picture for a while, so she could look at it again. She'd never seen a picture of her father. She'd always kind of hated to ask Mother, because it might hurt her. But it wouldn't hurt Auntie, who wasn't even related to her father —
So she'd begged till Auntie finally showed her the picture. Just for a second, without giving her a chance to see what he really looked like. It wasn't enough for June. So after the others were asleep, she tiptoed out and took it from the dresser drawer and slipped it under her pillow, thinking she'd take a real good look in the morning and then put it back.
Generally, she woke up early but this morning she didn't. She was just kind of half waking up when Auntie came in.
"June, did you take your father's picture?" "No," she said sleepily, (Continued on page 85)
Holiday parties always include marshmallow roast She has no Hence with games, would rather chat. Home from date, she bee for housekeeper Bess' room, and they sit m dark and gab like k
twin
June sleeps all year in flannel pyiams. In summer u*« bed near window; in winter, moves to one near door. Toy horse "Tomby" came from ex-fiance named Tommy, stands near bureau
24
MODERN SCREEN'S Sylvia Wallace helped June pick While Christmas shopping, June couldn't resist buying teddy bear tor crony s
out hat for holiday whirl. She tends toward dark baby. A reckless shopper, she'd grab everything in sight if Bess didn't rein
clothes, has to force herself to wear bright colors. her in. She won't return anything because she's afraid to offend salesclerkl
25
Terrifically clothes-conscious, he goes to a very expensive tailor M Ins ^Z'lthu' Z \°Q ^ °Z one where he's never satisfied. Before moths banqueted on wardrobe in st orage he *u?*™*°™%™!. for years, mostly for sentimental attachment. First post-Army role will be lead in The Dolly bisters.
Johnny once held job on strength of his piano-playing, does all nis composing at keyboard. First song he peddled, "In My Heart," brought $25, sold "all of 50 copies" and then dropped into oblivion.
Solitaire's too frustrating to be fun for honest John, fers bowling, composing, writing, talking. But he often too tuckered out in Army for anything but
26
On Johnny's last leave before discharge from Army, he shopped for Julie's Christmas presents and wrapped 'em because he didn't know where he'd be come Dec.
By Fredda Dudley
But Mr. Payne, Army Air Forces retired, in his red and blue
shirt and houndstooth slacks, couldn't forget to salute the colonel!
Once a professional wrestler, Johnny has magnificent 6' 2", 1 85-1 b. physique, which he keeps in shape by daily swim and 2-hour workout in Terry Hunt's gym 4 times a week.
■ When John Payne was ordered to the Monterey Separation Center in Northern California, as one of a group of 5000 pilots, he knew that the job he -and they had been doing for the Army was completed and that they were to be placed on inactive status. John had been a little too old to be trained for combat flying, but he had done a good job in the training program — all that is asked of anyone — and now that he was to be graduated from reveille, he was as eager as every other demobilized man will be.
On his way to Monterey,, he stopped at the storage company — where his wardrobe was fighting it out with the moths — and discovered that he was the owner of one pair of houndstooth thecked slacks, one some- what weary navy blue suit, and one salt and pepper tweed suit. Everything else had been devoured.
With a few choice comments on the patriotism of American moths entrusted with a serviceman's property, John packed his remaining clothes and reported for separation from the armed forces.
That task accomplished, he proceeded first to a peaceful resort town [Continued on following page)
Simple pleasures of home— eating kumquats off the tree! An ardent sunworshipper since he came west, he works hard at getting tan, strips to waist every time Sol peeps out!
nearby (Carmel-By-The-Sea) and rented a hotel room, then went shopping, to wit* One red and blue plaid wool shirt, one orange and yellow plaid shirt, one red silk cow- boy neckerchief, one Paisley ascot scarf. On the double he returned to his room, shed his khakis and accoutered him- self in his houndstooth checked slacks, his red and blue plaid wool shirt, and his red silk neckerchief— knotted at the side of his throat— and surveyed himself in the mirror. Very sharp citizen.
Emerging upon the streets, he set out in search of reading matter. The sale of dark glasses in Carmel rose 127% in an hour. As John stalked along he met a full colonel, and habit being stronger than his awareness of his civvies, he saluted smartly.
The colonel returned the salute, then smiled. "How long have you been out, son?" he wanted to know. "Five hours, sir," said John sheepishly. He bought a copy of Fantastic Stories and a tall bottle of— say— Pepsi Cola, and returned to his room. Pulling off his shoes, he plumped up two pillows, turned on the reading lamp beside the bed, and subsided Into the feathers with the magazine in one hand and the beverage in the other. A deep mattress, a sense of aloneness unknown in barracks, no lights-out order pending, no reveille. Ah, wilderness were Paradise enow.
The following day John varied his routine by wearing the salt and pepper trousers, the orange plaid shirt and the Paisley ascot. He was having a thick, rare steak at the Russian Inn at noon when two girls from Hollywood (one of them being Kay Hardy of Modern Screen) strolled past his booth, recognized him— despite a suntan darker than
Johnny got royal welcome from everyone he ever knew, including po- liceman on corner beat. In his 25 mos. service, he trained; in Tex., Utah Col was transferred to Ferry Command just before discharge.
It was great to be back in make-up room at Fox and sniff the beautiful smell of greasepaint again! Johnny started shaving at 10 . . . until Mom caught him at it!
28
a G.I. shoeshine, and a mustache that made Colonna look like a stripling — and joined John.
That afternoon the three of them hailed a taxi to take the world-famed Seventeen Mile Drive around the Monterey peninsula. The cab driver was wearing khaki, so John asked him how come. The cabby explained that he was on 3-day pass, and he drove a cab to unravel the trans- portation snarl and to make a little extra dough. "I just got out of the Army," John said, to explain his interest.
The cabby looked back over his shoulder and nearly drove over, a cliff. "Whatcha do with your old khakis?"
When John said they were lying around the hotel room, the cabby made a deal to acquire the outfit. John took his name and address and made it a point to deliver the outfit personally. Good deal by a thoughtful guy.
They reached the celebrated Del Monte Lodge at dinner time. "Food," drooled John. "Steaks, broccoli with Hol- landaise sauce. Potatoes, au gratin. Oh, my shattered nerves, such food." He ended by having a steak and a dessert concocted of bananas, two kinds of ice cream, chopped nuts, assorted syrups and a dash of whipped cream.
During his stay in Carmel, John had been trying des- perately to get train reservations to Hollywood, but it began to look hopeless. So Saturday morning he arrived at the apartment of his friends and verbally thumbed a ride south. They set out at noon and drove along the magnifi- cent coast highway, singing as they sped.
The trio stopped at a small town to buy gasoline and the girl manning the gas pump stared admiringly at John as he crossed the street to buy fruit and sandwiches. "Mmmm. Good looking, isn't he? Might be a movie star."
One of the girls, always good for a gag, asked, "Don't you think he looks a lot like John Payne?"
The petrol polly shook her head in a judicial negative. "More like Ray Milland," she said. Only when John was tagged by a group of loitering school kids, atad agreed to give his autograph to the gang, did she admit an error of identification.
John's first problem upon arriving in Hollywood was to find a place to five. He was to be a hotel guest for the single week now allowed travelers, but at the expiration of that period he had to have a house so that Julie, his hand- some 4-year-old daughter, could join him.
John's notions about a house were extremely flexible; there were only two positive requirements, a fireplace and a convenient spot for his Capehart phonograph recorder.
John's method of securing housing, was direct and in- genious. He started out in an attractive district, on foot, and cased the homes. When he found one that appealed to him, he marched up, rang the doorbell and said to the astonished householder, "I admire your home very much. Is it, by chance, for sale?"
After" three days of this, he actually located an elderly couple in Brentwood who were planning to place their home on the market the following week. Happy ending: John bought the house and moved in the following family: Julie, her nurse, a cook, one dog and one cat.
His home established, John left town on a vacation to be followed by a Bond tour. Upon his return, 20th Cen- tury-Fox will have a script ready for him. Also awaiting his return will be a G.I.'s dream of romance, Gloria de Haven, with whom John has enjoyed most of his recent dates.
In '39, he spent $5000 on clothes, had reputation as one of H'wood's best-dressed. Lives in sweaters, slacks around house. Anticipating post-war property boom, he invested in 15 acres.
Reading in bed was pleasure long untested. Great book-lover, he re- reads favorite over and over. Among 50 on shelf by bed are "Book of Pirates" and Plato. Doesn't start novels at night; he'd never snooze!
29
iJftM ^<yW)dX -M iWJ) (u,-fk kwdC
'Just back from a rest at Arrowhead, Van grabs a dance w.th Jan.e Wyman. He still chuckles over time he swept into club— tell flat on his face! Whereupon 4 gals rushed to pick him up, dust him ott!
nobody's sweetheart
■ One day last March a girl named Betty, who works for M-G-M, found on her desk a box brimming over with flowers. The card said: "Thanks again. Van Johnson."
Betty was enchanted, but puzzled. Why the flowers, and what was Van thanking her for? Suddenly her eyes- flew to the calendar. March 30th! Of course! It all came flooding back —
A year ago today— working late at the studio—leaving around 8— reach- ing Venice Boulevard just in time to hear the horrible sound of crashing cars_nghting back the sick sense of shock— racing across the street- helping Keenan Wynn pull Van out of the overturned car— phoning for help— sitting beside Van till it came, and the awful drip of blood from his head— Van lying there, trying to smile, speaking only once— "I can't stand that sound—" wadding up her scarf, putting it where it would deaden the sound —
Betty brushed the scene from her mind. Van was all right now. Nothing left but fading scars and the plate in his head. She smiled at the flowers. How like him to remember the day this way —
Something's left beside the scars and the plate in Van's head. Something that makes him feel he can't live a full-time life {Continued on page 60)
30
After guesting on CBS Burns and Allen show, Van Brown Der- by'ed with them and their daughter, Sandra, who is "engaged" to Van along with 6-year-old Linda Leroy, the director's child.
M-G-M's recent birthday gift was the late John Barrymore's portable dressing room where Van takes time out from "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo" to personally autograph those NAA cards. (See p. 10 for details.)
Van's part in the "Dr. GrTlespie" series is being terrifically built up with the next one to feature Gloria De Haven in "a junior Bette Davis" role. (Kibitzing with "Good News" Parsons.)
31
All Danny needs is a twist of the heart
to shift from a kid with a shoe-box bank to
a pixie with a double-talk jabber.
■Two kids grew in Brooklyn— on the selfsame street_and never met. Sylvia's father was a dentist. Danny minded his office for a dollar and a quarter a week, but never ran into his daughter. They attended the same high school Sylvia went in for music and dramatics. Danny was wrapped up in baseball and lived for the day he could start pre-medical work. He didn't so much as join a debating club.
Years later he walked into a New York loft building to rehearse for a show. The lyric-writer, a dark-haired girl, sat at the piano. They were introduced. "Sylvia Fine— Danny Kaye— "
"And if I hadn't met her," he says, "I wouldn't be where I am today."
Where he is today, is in a class by himself. Try to bracket or compare him with anyone else, and you're lost. The most original talent since Chaplin, somebody called him. Over four years ago, he became the rage of New York. Thanks to Samuel Goldwyn, he now belongs to the millions.
He remains a little leery of the movies. They couldn't drag him to the preview of "Up in Arms.''1 "I'd sit there and die inside," he said, "or I'd jump up on the screen and try to change it."
Toughest thing about movies is having no audience. An audience is the match that sets him alight. On first nights he sits in his dressing room, quaking and sweating. The minute he's onstage, something happens between him and the people out there that sets him free, gives him buoyancy and power and the same kind of mas- tery over his medium that a musician has over his violin —
Making movies, you have to imagine your audience. Same as at rehearsals. Danny's no good in rehearsal. "Let's Face It," his first star- ring show, featured a fairy-tale number in baby talk. They opened in Boston. Danny walked out for the dress rehearsal, to an empty stage and an empty theater —
"Once upon a time," (Continued on page 79)
The first comedian to play 5 straight weeks at N. Y. Paramount, Danny signed his 5-year contract after only 5 mos. on B'way and now draws $100,000 per pic; $16,500 per air show. (Right, at "Ice Follies.")
A
Just recovering from leg fracture, Dan was pros- trated from earmuff, overcoat scenes during heat wave! (With Gene Kelly at Truman rally.)
By Jeanne Karr
33
Still padded with baby fat. all sweets turn to hips. Worse, eat- ing's her joy. Mom severely raps her knuckles at slightest veering toward goodies. Mrs. L. gave up music teaching to be daughters bus mgr., chauffeur, housekeeper, personal maid and pvt. teacher!
Evenings at home, Diana retires to her suite on second floor. Bathes Hit after dinner, turns on bedside radio full blast, does nails or hair reads in bed. House is Colonial inside and out, patterned atter Southern mansions she fell in love with on trip 4 years ago.
dream walking
Diana Lynn's lilting along in a dreamy
18-year-old world of roller coasters, dates and ice-cream binges!
■ Mother said, "You've always got your piano to go back to."
Dolly burst into tears. "I don't want my piano to go back to. I want to act."
It was silly to cry. But now she'd started, she couldn't seem to turn it off. Guess she'd been waiting to cry for a year and a half. Might as well get it over with.
She understood how Mother felt. Music would always be Mother's first love. Once it had been Dolly's, too, but now she loved acting more. So you've-got-your-piano- to-go-back-to was like waving a red flag under her nose. Which certainly needed blowing at the moment —
She looked up. A watery smile came through. "I'm all right now."
"Look, Dolly," said Dad. "You're 15. Your mother and I both think you're old enough to make decisions. If acting's what you want, that's fine with us."
"It's what I want all right, if they'll ever let me do it."
"Well, they haven't fired you yet."
That's what she couldn't figure out. They wouldn't release her, and they wouldn't put her to work. Ever since "There's Magic in Music," she'd been hanging around the Paramount lot, doing absolutely nothing. Except cry on Bill Russell's shoulder. Bill was the dramatic coach, -and an angel. "Wait, honey," he'd say. "Don't get discouraged." But how could you not get discouraged? Every once in a while she'd gather herself together and go see Mr. Meiklejohn, head of the studio talent department. {Continued on page 83)
By Karin Pieck
Cooking fascinates her; she can't understand how mixture of egg, flour, etc., comes up cake! Dates often between pics; Sat. only daring production; different guy each night. If she overstays Mom's curfew, she must call and explain.
Is* place: Frank Sinatra — "Listening to that boy sing is like getting kissed." (From sneak preview card of "Higher And Higher." 1944.)
5th place: Betty Grable— ■ "Just saw a dream walking."
(From sneak preview card of "A Yank In The RAF." 1940.)
2nd place: Alan Ladd — ". . . Edward G. Robinson — with dimples . . ." (From sneak preview card of "This For Hire." 1942.)
6th place: Capt. Ron- ald Reagan — "He'd be so nice to come home to . . ." (From sneak preview of "Kings Row." 1941.)
8th place: Gene Kelly — "Kelly talks with his feet, and manages to say plenty." (From sneak preview card of "For Me and M> Gal." 1942.)
YOUR
9th place: Shirley Temple — 'She's always had the face of an angel— but what's this new look in her eye?" (From sneak preview card of "Kathleen." 1941.)
U^fUL itfotj P^M. riWerf
10th place: John Payne — "Superman's kid brother." (From sneak preview card of "Gar- den of The Moon." 1938.)
3rd place: Pvt. Lon Mc- Callister — -"He reminds me on Ivory Soap ad grown up." (From sneak preview card of "Stage Door Canteen." 1943.
7th place: Lana Turner — How do you spell a long, low whistle?" (From sneak pre- view card of "They Won't Forget." 1937.)
4th place: Van Johnson — "Yessir, he's my baby!" (From sneak preview card of "Dr. Gillespie's New Assist- ant." 1942.) •
FAVORITE STARS OF 1944
■ One more New Year for this writer. She's had many of them writing for, the motion picture public. I have a number of people on my list to whom I want to hand a few posies this New Year 1945. High on my list is Modern Screen because it is doing something special for the Hollywood I love.
It is giving many movie-goers of ouf country a chance to express themselves through the Modern Screen Poll. The first time I heard about this Modern Screen Poll was soon after the release of "Stage Door Canteen." I mentioned young Lon McCallister and used a few of my best superlatives in complimenting the young man. Sol Lesser, to whom I was talking, grinned sort of sheepishly and said Modern Screen was right, so I asked him what he meant.
WelL it seems the Lesser organization put their money on another player in the picture and sent out scads of publicity, thinking "Stage Door Canteen" would
make this player a star overnight. Modern Screen wouldn't use the publicity. Sat tight and waited to see what their poll would tell them. The poll skipped that certain person and cheered for Lon McCallister.
All this made me curious. What was this poll, and how did it work? I discovered that it works through all of you who read the magazine. That you vote for your first three favorites. That number one scores three points, number two scores two, number three scores one. Whoever scores the highest is top man for the month, and so on down the line.
In other words, you spot the coming stars. And let me congratulate you. So far you've never missed. I'm not talking about people like Jennifer Jones. That's too obvious. As "Bernadette," a blind man couldn't have missed her. What amazes me is the way you point straight as an arrow at youngsters who first appeared in relatively small parts — (Continued on page 91)
•37
During babyhood Lon was watched over by Great Dane, "Blue Lady," and that's been his favorite breed ever since Early treat was riding around yard on dog s back.
By Kirtley Baskette
Baby pics are bane of Lon's existence. When his mom and grandma aired them to M. S. s ed for this story, he pounced on them, refused to reveal sillier ones.
to* tAcCAtusre*
There was plenty of everything a boy could dream for-
a candy factory, a Great Dane. And then, suddenly, there was nothing.
■ The cool late afternoon breeze swept off the Pacific and sent the white Malibu sands swirling to pepper about the brown shoulders of the good-looking young guy stretched out on the blanket. Lon McCallister reached for his faded sweater, tugged it over his head and stood up. He folded the gay umbrella, shook out the striped beach towel, dusted the pillow and slipped it under his arm. For a moment he gazed thoughtfully down the curving, wave-washed point that pierces the ocean like a white finger pointing back to Hollywood. Then he brushed back his wind- mussed hair and flashed the shy, boyish smile that has made him "famous.
"Sometimes," said Lon, "Sometimes, I can't believe it."
"I said someday I'd have a house at Malibu, and here I am. I said one day I'd be a movie star and. well, there's (Continued on page 41 1
One of first bit parts was with Walter Brennan in Joe and Ethel Turp. Since ,oining Army he's shed 9 lbs. .and has to have trousers nipped in at waist O. current crop of books, he prefers -A Tree Grows in B'klyn" and Razor s Edge.
38
continued
He shares hovel with 3 guys in Tent Row at Santa Monica Sets up at 6:30, takes G.I. bus to studio, starts work at 8. Free every P.M., he drives to Malibu for dinner with his mom.
Day off "Winged Victory" set and Army chores, Lon beats crony to phone and invites Jeanne Crain to spend day on beach. Friend rags him but fails to rattle poised Pvt. McC.
Lon's Pontiac suffered 3 blowouts in week, so MODERN SCREEN'S ed, Sylvia Wallace, and photog Gus Gale pick Jeanne up, meet Lon at camp, drive to his Malibu home.
Salt water and sun bake them, give Jeanne a slight burn. Lon calls her TB or S.F. for reasons he won't divulge. . They met in Zanuck s ottice, chummed on trips to Santa Maria for sulky-driving lessons for "Home.
40
They never talk politics; he thinks women are idiotic about subject. Top compliment is that she always looks the way he envisioned her first time he phoned for date.
'Home in Indiana.' I said I'd fix things so my mother and grandmother could quit work, and they're right inside the house. I said I'd keep my old friends, and I still have them. I said I'd live a larger life than just acting; and I'm in the Army Air Corps. I said all those things to my grandmother one day after a Hollywood Boulevard movie. And they've all come true. It doesn't make sense, does it?"
Lon grinned apologetically and gave that defiant, self- conscious toss to his head he always does when he's embar- rassed. As if to say, "All right, go ahead and laugh if you want to — but that's the truth!"
I didn't laugh. You don't laugh at a boy who makes his gallant dreams come true. Besides, I was thinking that maybe the joke was on me. It was morning when I came down to the beach, and the California sun was low in the East, but not quite so low as my opinion of the drama to be found in the life of a twenty-one-year-old star. How can you write the life story of a kid who's just begun to live? How in the world can enough happen to a boy be- fore he turns voting age to make the story worth telling?
41
When gust of sand blows in Jeanne's face, Lon whisks it off. He offers use of pvt. beach to Sylvia and Sus, who'll take him up on it next Sun.
On trip to corner drug, Lon shows Jeanne his top comic in "Yank,' is pleased to find her hep. Before going in Army he gave her a St. Chris- topher; got pipe from her, which he smokes only when she's with him.
VON tAcCAtXlSTt*
continued-
It was dusk now, and the day — Private Lon Mc- Callister's one-day furlough after finishing his Army Air Corps job in "Winged Victory"— had streaked past like a P-38. I drove home down the Coast Highway beside the Malibu hills that had turned purple in the sifting mist, dimming the very real 1944 homeis and villas on the mountain sides into imaginary castle and fairy towers. Magic mountains, and beyond them lay a magic city — Hollywood. A fabled town, a Bagdad- on-the-Arroyo, where Aladdin's Lamp and the Flying Carpet and tales as strange as Scheherazade's came true every day. Cinderellas, Prince Charmings, magic wands. Rags to riches, dreams come true, glamour, glitter, gold.
Oh, yeah? Who was I kidding?
Hollywood is a factory town that makes movies, grinds them out like sausages. It's the hardest working, dullest joint in the world, jam-packed with ordinary, harassed Joe and Jane Jerks. It's cut and dried, now— you have to have a name or know people to get ahead. All that Magic Hollywood stuff is as out of date as a director's megaphone. Maybe so, in the good old days when these Malibu beach villas, which the sun's slanting rays still spotted as I passed, were fun spots for fabulous silent stars— Bebe Daniels, the Talmadge girls, Fatty Arbuckle, Tom Mix and Charlie Ray— (what columnist had called Lon McCallister another Charlie Ray?) And yet —
In one of those very houses on that fabled Malibu strand I had just left a boy {Continued on page 70)
Back at house they sing and dance to his half-dozen recordings of pet tune, "Easy to Love." He'll be in Chicago with troupe this Xmas, his first away from home. Jeanne'll write once weekly.
Good-night kiss is friendly, but nothing more. While they're no great romance, they're No. I on each other's date list. If he gets invitation to bring "a friend," he takes her and vice versa.
43
Is there a Pidgeon-fancier in
At one time, Walt would warble "The Rosary" at parties, ruin the gay mood. Now he sings only in bath or while preparing a garlic-olive oiled steak.
the house? Don't rush, girls!
(With Mrs. P.)
■ I've known Walter Pidgeon for year^-never mind how many— and only once have I wanted to slug him.
That was when Frances Marion and I took him up to the Hearst ranch. Our train got shunted off on a siding, and we didn't arrive till 4:30 A.M. The scene was out of the Arabian Nights— mist-drowned hills and valleys and, floating high over the mists, this lighted castle like a wedding-cake, with nothing to hold it up. ^
In my childish fashion, I started raving. "We've got to wait and watch the sunrise melt the mists away—"
"Not me," said Frances. "I'm going to bed."
"Likewise," said Walter.
I didn't mind Frances so much, she'd seen it before. Walter hadn't. "Where's your, soul, where's your sense of poetry?" I stormed.
"Sleeping," says he, and darned if the big lug didnt march off and leave me to rhapsodize alone.
That was in the old days, before he and Ruth were married. When he first came out, he didn't know many people. East was East and West was West, and my house was a place where the twain frequently met. If New Yorkers didn't know anyone {Continued on page 87)
Canadian-born Walt thanks Fred Astaire for first break, thinks Sinatra is "one swell kid." A new citizen he cast first vote this year. (With L. B. Mayer at SYWA preem.)
44
By Hedda Hopper
■ It's June in January. June Allyson, in case you didn't get it first off. 'N she didn't just breeze in with a snappy "Happy New Year" and let it go at that. She's got ideas, that gal!
What's it got to do with you? Come out of the dumps, and you'll see. Sure, I know what you're up against. Everything^ you own looks strictly pain-in-the-neck. It's too late for more Winter duds, too early for Spring. But this doesn't mean you're to stand there just marking time 'til the robins come.
Now's the season, says June, to pin your-
46
Think what this beret and halter could do far your outfit! Hand cro- cheted accessories by Greta Plattry|
It's a peplum that adds zip to
a basic black, make-it-yourself dress, Simplicity Pattern 1053.
all on the old faithful black dress. That one in the closet — -remember? Or you can whip up a new "old faithful" from a Sim- plicity pattern. With curve-smoothing lines, new bateau (boat-shaped) neckline, tiny cap sleeves. Plus a matching jacket for presto- chango into a dinner suit.
But hurry up, will you? Because the fire- works are starting. Hand-crocheted acces- sories. That hot-pink business that June's got on her head is called a "coif" (cwaf, mind you, not coyf) . The gloves pick up the sparkle with a fake jewel placed, ring- fashion, in the {Continued on page 90)
It's a smart, long sleeved
jacket that transforms your dress into a costume suit.
a datemaker, dressed up
with a giant flower tucked into a velvet band at your waist.
June Allyson, bright star of "Music For Millions, " sparkles in gay, be-jeweled coif and gloves by Greta Plattry.
47
Way before Pearl Harbor, John, along with Bolger, Laurel and Hardy, Chico Marx and others, went USO touring in the Caribbean. The War Dept. nixed publicity, didn't want it known men were stationed there.
on July 25th. was only born
All of Johnny's scenes in "H'wood Canteen had to be tedone- seems the real self shown is so unlike his reel self, he had to portray Garfield, the actor, so people would recognize him!
■ David Garfield was a year old "He can't be," said John. "He the other day."
Roberta glanced at the clock. "A year ago. Al- most to the minute. Remember? Winchell was screaming about Mussolini, while I screamed about David."
He remembered all right, but it just didnt seem possible. This had been the swiftest year of a not uneventful life. Garfield's the kind of guy things happen to. Eager, sensitive, burningly interested in the world and all its doings, he lives twice as in- tensely as the average man. But the things that had happened this year were stranger, more significant, more exciting than usual —
First, his son had been born on a very fine day. The day Mussolini was kicked out of Rome. The news had just started coming in over the radio, and Roberta couldn't bear to leave it, but the baby wouldn't wait. He was very impatient. At the hos- pital, John hadn't even hit his pacing stride before the smiling nurse came out and said, "It's a boy."
48
l'/2-nour show for Tito's Partisans took twice that long — interpreter had to get in his licks. John added their gift of Nazi gun to souvenir arsenal given him bv G.l.'s. (With Handyman Luther and Cook Ida May.)
journey among warriors
They. let him see Roberta for a minute. "What's his name?" she asked drowsily. "David." "That's nice."
In the Garfield family, it's Daddy who picks the kids' names. Robbie hadn't known Katherine would be Katherine till after she was born. Her theory is: "The mother has the children. The father just stands outside. So the least you can do is let him pick the name. That makes him more part of it. Besides," she adds with an impish grin, "if you've got enough faith in a guy to marry him, you ought to trust him enough to let him name your child."
Before dozing off, she murmured, "Go cele- brate—"
"What'll I do?"
"Go see a leg show."
So he collected some male cronies and took them to Earl Carroll's and ordered champagne for the girls and didn't say why till the glasses were lifted. Then: "To my son," said John, and got much drunker on the words than {Continued on page 91)
Phoning wife of a Lieut, he'd met in Italy, he learned she and infant were homeless. In 2 days, he and Red Cross had them set up in own apt.! Baby David Patton was named for famed General.
49
IN HER ELEGANT WORLD . . .
a i a rw r\c \rc
IN HIS WORLD OF ADVENTURE A WOMAN OF FIRE!
Bored and beautiful weary of the dull world she knew she found happiness in the arms of the bold brigand who swept her away on the wings of the wind for 24 reckless hours . . . From the exciting novel by DAPHNE ( "Rebecca") DU MAURIER . . . PARAMOUNT presents
Joan Tontaine flfCuro k CorboM
BASIL RATHBONE • NIGEL BRUCE * CECIL KELLAWAY • RALPH FORBES B. G. DeSYLVA, Executive Producer
Screen PI by Talbot Jennings • from pie Novel by Daphne du Mauner
PRODUCTION
Directed by Mitchell Leisen
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Home-as He Hopes It Will Look
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1
pa**°
GOOD NEWS
YOUR GOOD NEWS GOSSIPER RIFFLES THE PAGES OF SOME OLD COLUMNS TO TELL OF CHRISTMASES LONG PAST.
■ Merry Christmas— to each and every one of you! .
This is the day and the season to put behind us aches and unhappiness of the past, if even only for a httle wfclp. and to cling hard to the belief and hope of the beauuful thought, "Peace on Earth— Good Will Toward Men."
Christmas days have a way of changing with the changes m our hearts. This year, in Hollywood, it is the same as little town in the country. There are hearts that are saddened by separation from dear ones. There are movie homes where a son. or a brother or a husband has been lost. But just as J^1""^" there are smiles of courage on faces in Hollywood for the Yuletide
Christmas trees may not be so big or bright. Packages may not have such gaudy wrappings. But there are fires in the hearih- and good cheer for old and new friends-and wonderful, splendid memories.
I love to go over my scrapbooks around Chnstmas tune.
The memories they revive are as warm as though I were living through them again. Some of them bring a sentimental tear to my eyes. Others make me smile. I think you might be amused to look back with me over some Christmases I recorded that read like some- thing out of Arabian Nights,
It was back in the days when Hollywood was gay, extravagant and brilliant. Come along and share a chuckle with me over this Christmas day column I wrote (very nonchalantly, too):
"Carole Lombard's gift from her new beau. Bob Riskin. was huge diamond and ruby clips and a silver fox cape. (Just simple httle
remembrances.') . _
"Francis Lederer gave Mary Anita Loos a Persian lamb coat, a bracelet and a jade pin with matching earrings.
"Pat O'Brien handed Eloise a gorgeous new emerald ring.
"Clark Gable treated himself to a Duesenberg car.
"Darryl Zanuck surprised Virginia with a new Packard car. and just so she wouldn't feel slighted, a fifty-carat star sapphire.
"Claudette Colbert's favorite gift is the new baguette diamond wedding ring put on her finger by her husband. Dr. Joel Pressman.
"Dick Powell sent Mary Brian a lovely sable jacket. _
"Joan Crawford's Christmas was made cheerful by Franchot Tones aift_ a new star sapphire necklace and bracelet.
"George Raft took Virginia Peine'* little daughter to see Santa Claus and hasn't been the same since. (Who? George-or Santa?)
"Nick Stuart is caroling to Alice Faye Cont'd on following page)
Sinatra designed and built intricate home-recording ma- chine with built-in record player and radio with bud speakers throughout house. With vocalist E.leen Barton.
Van Johnson and Kay Williams have it bad. He s giftd her with lush compact. He's making radio debut as m.c. <H Command Performance. Armed Forces Radio Service shov
When Harry's away on tour, Betty Grable gets blue and disinterested on Fox lot. She hopes to go along next time Above, with GOOD NEWSer Louella Parsons.
56
Despite suitor Pete Lawford's return to town, Lana Turner's continuing withfurhan Bey. She's redecorating only part of her new Bel Air home; waiting till war's end to do rest. Just 21, she cast first vote this fall.
Soon as John Payne (above with Jimmy Durante and Gloria DeHaven) is settled in his- Brentwood home, has water and lights under control he'll head for Carmel for rest. Claims he's dog'tired after Army life
Her studio's helpless if Anne Baxter decides to marry John Hodialc. Her contract provided she wouldn't wed until age of 21, which she eached last spring. Above, at Ice Follies with "Hi" and June Havoc.
Ronnie got to ba thro«te ^I^L— I I I ' 1
0f>d / ,
Italy
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ihe
Landry, <" ico MtfHi« A &
did- war
57
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this Christmas Eve— and I understand he dropped a pearl framed miniature in her Christmas stocking. (I had forgotten Nick and Alice were ever that way.)
"Zeppo Marx's gift to Mrs. Zeppo was a check for $2500!"
Whoops! Wasn't it ail just TOO wonderful!
* * * And then, there was this zany item: "Ted Healy (who was the Errol Flynn of his day) furnished the highlight of the Christ- mas festivities of 1935 by being accused of setting fire to his best girl's clothes. Said Ted, 'I'm too old to play with matches!'
"He was generally kidded and took it all good naturedly, adding, 'Besides, I don't want to go to jail because I hear they have to eat pork chops — and I don't like pork chops.' " » * * I greeted the Christmas that Santa Anita race track opened in the following fashion: "Christmas has always been a home day in Hollywood with one exception— today— when Santa Anita opens. Stars celebrated with their children bright and early and then took themselves out to the beautiful new track.
"I hear that Bing Crosby has gone into the horse breeding business (and I just heard it is a rumor.'). 'Tis said that he owns twelve yearlings which are now going through their schooling period. (Poor Bing and his nags. This was the beginning of all the Crosby horse gags that practically made Bob Hope famous!) &
"Connie Bennett is another racing enthuSiast. She has entered her horse 'Rattlebrain' and 53 is looking for another bangtail. Fred Astaire
Address
I City
I State Ring Size.
I
I I I I I
I
I
is likewise in the market for a racer." * *. * Turning to a 1936 book, I found: "Jean Harlow is celebrating the 1936 New Year by discarding her platinum locks in favor of her own light brown tresses. This decision was made simultaneously with the signing of a new seven year contract with M-G-M." Poor little Jean— she didn't live to complete that long contract.
"Paulette Goddard is with the Chaplin children at Palm Springs. How the boys adore their step-mother! I believe Charlie and Paulette are happier now than ever before.
"The New Year hasn't caused Katie Hep- burn to turn over a new page. She's up to her same old elusive tricks. Out of the blue she disappeared— and when she cropped up in Kansas City, a reporter dubbed her 'A cross between Sarah Bernhardt and Huckle- berry Finn!' " (still goes.)
* * * The brand new babies and two and three year old debutantes are the center of interest this year in Hollywood.
Lana Turner's Christmas present to year- and-a-half Cheryl Christine will be a com- bination dollhouse-playhouse. It is being built in the back yard and is big enough for Cheryl to play in until she is a big girl.
"Of course she's too young now to really appreciate it," Lana said, "But It will have three tiny little rooms and we'll fumish it with little miniature furnishings which will be pre- sented to her on her birthdays and Christ- mas. We already have a tiny little Coo-Coo clock and a set of dishes with all kinds of
birds for decoration." If you ask me, Lana is more excited than Cheryl.
A lonely but proud mother in Hollywood this Christmas is Dick Jaeckel's mom.
This is the first Christmas Millicent, as her friends call her, has been without her boy who is now with the Merchant Marine. He's only 17 — which is awfully young to be at sea.
But it's what the kid wanted. He wanted his training the hard way, and while she is lonely, Millicent is as proud as punch of the letters she receives telling of his experiences and how wonderful it is to be completely on his own doing a man's job in the world.
Although Dick didn't have to join up for another year, he left a starring job at Fox that would have earned him $2500 a week at the end of his seven year contract.
I miss him, too. He used to spend many of his Christmases at my house, and it seems only yesterday that I was buying him what
he asked for — a toy gun.
• * * When Elsa Maxwell left for New York, the party situation in Hollywood slowed up con- siderably. Elsa has the faculty for making every event an occasion of big celebration, and _ no one else seems to have the energy to get together the stars for dress-up parties.
Lady Elsie Mendl, another party giver, went to New York to spend Thanksgiving, and her house, which is always the mecca for visiting celebrities, was no longer a popular gathering place.
Just before Elsie went to New York, I at- tended a party at her house for a bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. George Guinle. His papa is one of Brazil's richest men. Mary Pickford made an excellent speech stressing the importance of the Good Neighbor policy.
Signe Hasso was there, looking so smart. She has come up suddenly in Hollywood and is due to be one of our top ranking stars. She had her little boy with her over Thanksgiving, and they dined together with one of Signe's admirers.
Joan Fontaine came in for a brief moment after dinner. She was lovely in a filmy black dress with touches of pink. Now that she's back at work she is happy again.
I wish I could say the same for her sis- ter, Olivia De Havilland, who seems sad and depressed. Her romance with Major John Huston is over and her career is still in a
tangle with her Warner lawsuit.
♦ * * Betty Grable has a sentimental idea lor
Christmas for Victoria Elizabeth James, Queen of the Harry James household. She has planted a small cedar tree exactly the same age as Miss James. This year it will be dec- orated with tiny lights— and then as the tree grows— and Miss Vicky gets bigger, it will be decorated each year just for her.
* * , * THINGS-I-CAN'T-GET-USED-TO :
Turhan Bey smoking a pipe when he dances.
Greer Garson's new short hair cut for "Valley of Decision."
Judy Garland in - the matronly hats she wears.
Lupe Velez with any other beau but Arturo de Cordova. (Continued on page 66)
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59
till the war's over. But for his accident, he'd have been in the fight. He hates being out of it. His dad sends mm the home town papers with their casualty lists - kids Van knew at school, killed and Truss- ing in action. His mouth goes hard. Hes no crazier than the next guy to be a dead hero, but every instinct pulls him toward the side of those kids.
g.i. civilian . . •
He knows it's no use. They won't let him fight. So he takes his own way of keep- ing faith with the millions who do. Lives as simply as possible— works as hard as he can so as to pay the maximum income tax— won't haunt night clubs— spends his leisure time with the Keenan Wynns, his* adopted family. Once he spoke to Jean- Pierre Aumont of the way he felt. I have no right to a normal existence. Not till everyone's home, living normally again— "I know. I feel the same way—" "But you have no reason. You fought in France. You're going back in—"
"As much reason as you, Van, Jean- Pierre replied gently. "Each of us does what he can." , , ... ,
So Van lives quietly. Though its been a year and a half since the accident, he still needs plenty of rest. The only way he can get it is by turning in early, because he's been working without a letup— Two Girls and a Sailor," two "Dr. Gillespies, six months on "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo," "Thrill of a Romance," "Weekend at the Waldorf." With a schedule like that, you don't have much energy left for the social business. Even at the studio, he lunches alone. Hates the noise and con- fusion of the commissary. Has a tray m his dressing room, goes over his dialogue, takes a few minutes' snooze. Not that he's anti-social. He's husbanding his strength, that's all. When the war's over, he'll quit working so hard because there 11 be room in the world for fun again.
The only new thing in his life's a house. And he didn't plan that, it kind of sneaked up on him.
Hugh Marlowe phoned the Wynns one Sunday when Van was there. Hugh was leaving for a play in Chicago, and he had this little Chevvy that Keenan thought of taking over. So Van went up with them to look at the Chewy—
You drive up a steep hill— think you re never going to reach the top — then you hit it just as the car is coughing its soul out— and first thing you see is the ocean spread out, and this Cape Cod cottage with a green lawn and flowerbeds and a dog chasing round — like a home in the East. "Who's renting it?" Van asked. "Friend of mine and his wife. They're moving in tomorrow — "
"Wish I could have it—" he said, the way you say things, and never give it another thought.
Next morning Hugh called him at the studio. "Still want the house, Van?"
"Oh. Why, what's the matter with it?'
"Nothing. Guy that was taking it got called back East for a show. I asked the owners to give you first crack at it. But you'll have to make up your mind by eleven tomorrow. Ninety million other peole want it, too — "
Van spent the noon hour calling every- one he knew. Should he take it or shouldn't he? "Be nice, wouldn't it? I always wanted a garden to fuss over — "
"What's the inside like?"
"How should I know?" 60 "Didn't you see it?"
NOBODY'S SWEETHEART
(Continued from page 31)
"Sure, but who pays attention? Like a home, I guess. Chairs, tables, long cord on the telephone—"
The consensus of opinion was that he a better snap it up, so he did. Professional movers came for his Capehart, kind friends did the rest. Everyone took a carload- books, records, clothes, photographs, un- answered letters and a ton of old movie magazines. He'd marked the magazines: "COLLECTORS' ITEMS, NOT JUNK. HANDLE WITH CARE." Some day Van expects to read them all.
Essie was there to receive the stuff. Essie's the jewel who's put up with him for two years. He got her through an ad, when he lived in Coldwater Canyon. She was supposed to show up for an interview at 10. Came 11, and no Essie. At 11:30 the phone rang. "Mr. Johnson? I'm down at the Beverly Hills Fire Department— "Who's on fire?" ; "I am, Mr. Johnson. I been drivin up and down that canyon for hours, and there's no such house at the number you gave me — "
Van looked wildly around. "There must be. I'm in it—"
"Well, you better get out of it then and stand where I can see you — "
"Okay, Essie. I'll be wearing red hair and freckles and a checked cowboy shirt—'' That was all the interview they needed. Minor items like salary and duties were taken in stride.
It took a while for the new house to register. That first night he drove clear to the old apartment, and started up the stairs before he remembered that Vannie didn't live there any more. He felt funny. His hand fondled the banister— good old apartment— they'd been through a lot to- gether—what did he want to be rattling around in a house for?
Reluctantly, he got back into the car. By now it was dark. Might as well have dinner in Westwood. He saw the Red Cross Blood Bank, with its banner waving. Be- fore the accident, Van had donated blood regularly. That had helped save his. life, the doctor said. If his body hadn't grown used to losing blood in a small way, it might not have survived the greater loss. Since
I SAW IT HAPPEN
It was at the Ambassador East Hotel in Chicago. The Hollywood Victory Caravan was there, and as a terrific movie fan and autograph collector, I was right on hand.
With me I had some friends, a beau- tiful picture of Betty Hutton which I wanted her to sign, two autograph books and various other articles. All of a sudden, out popped Betty from an elevator and bang! Down went the books, down went the picture — and down went me. But in a minute I was up and at her heels, "May J have your autograph, Miss Hutton?"
"'I'm sorry, honey," she answered, "but we're not allowed to sign unless you buy a Bond?"
"Well, then, can I have your lip print in my book?"
"That's the same thing, but I can put it on YOU." i
And over she came, arouna me went her arms and Bang! Down went the books, down went the picture, but UP stayed me!
Bob Hertzberg, Chicago, Illinois
the accident, he hadn't been allowed to give blood. "Not for a year," the doctor had said, on discharging him. home is where the heart is . .
Van made some rapid calculations. Golly, it was a year. Just about. He went in and gave them a pint of blood. When he came out, he didn't feel nearly so lost. And when he got to the house, somebody d done something for him. The two lovely ladies who owned it had turned all the fights on. To welcome him home.
He walked all over the place, getting acquainted— picked the bedroom with the most wind blowing through, located his Capehart, built a roaring fire, found the phone with the long cord, flopped into a chair and called all his friends. Hello, he said, "I've got a house—" Later, Evie and Keenan appeared, and they opened a bottle of champagne for good luck.
It's only on Sundays that he really gets chummy with the place. And even then it's the garden more than the house. He wakes up around nine, and remembers he can stay in bed. That's all he asks— the simple pleasure of knowing he doesn have to get up. So he gets up and into a pair of shorts. If you want to know why he really bought the house, it's so he could put on shorts and no top and trail his big bare feet through the grass.
He starts the coffee and ambles to the bottom of the hill for the morning papers- drinks his coffee on the front steps, with news flashes from the portable radio and the fog rolling away to show him the view Essie's given up trying to make him eat a decent breakfast. He'd starve before he'd fix anything for himself. She used to buy bread. She'd stick two slices m the toaster. "All you have to do is push that jigger down in the morning- "Who, me?"
Sometimes he'll do her a favor, and eat one of the cookies she leaves in the cookie jar. But mostly it's just black coffee. If he's empty, he takes a second. That's the Swede in him. He's never really hungry till night time. That's a throwback to the New York days when he couldn't afford more than one solid meal a day.
His gardener's a thoroughly understand ing fellow. Leaves the grass a little long on Sundays. Van gets the old lawn mower out, mows forth and then back— turns over the flowerbeds and waters the driveway wipes the honest sweat from his brow sweeps up the walks and steps, cleans off the wheelbarrow and outside furniture looks at the view and has another cup coffee. Then he washes the car. By now he beginning to feel pretty pleased with him self, and decides that the good boy de serves a rest. So he drags out this dea old mattress, flops and goes over Monday script. That takes an hour or so. Then his stomach speaks up. Funny thing- stomach knows it's Sunday— never gets hungry till night time except on Sunday. "Go wash yourself," says his stomach, and let's get out of here — "
First a tub, then a shower. He bathes like a porpoise. Slops soap on the walls and water all over the floor. Doesn't leave the soap in the water any more though. Not since the war started. And he cleans up afterwards. That's his early training. Dad's three thousand miles away, but Van can still hear him, "Clean it up, son.
He hates to shave. Never shaves on Sundays. To any objections, he's got the perfect alibi. "I'm on a picture." If peo- (Continued on page 64)
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INFORMATION DESK Answers all your ques- tions about H'wood, the stars and the movies. See box on page 12 for details. THIS IS NOT A CHART.
FOR ROMANCE
PLEASE BEHAVE! Just oft the press chart with tips on how to be poised, well liked. Etiquette for dating, engagements, weddings, letter writ- ing— the works. Free, just send a LARGE, self- addressed, stamped (3c) envelope .Q
CO-ED PERSONAL ADVICE Want to know how you can get that cute guy in Algebra class to ask for a date? Or when it's cagey to pull a "hard to get"? Write to our expert, Jean Kinkead, c/o MODERN SCREEN, tell her all, and she'll personally write you a letter answer- ing all those important, impossible problems of the heart. THIS IS NOT A CHART. See box on page 68 for details D
8E A BETTER DANCER! — by Arthur Murray Com- plete, easy-to-follow directions on how to fox- trot, waltz — all the turns and tricks that'll help you follow your partner. Also dance floor eti- quette, what to wear and how to be popular with the stag line. Free, just send a LARGE, self-addressed, stamped (3c) envelope.. □
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FASHIONS FOR TEENS — FALL AND WINTER Hot tips for gals from 12 to 18. What to wear, when to wear it, how to match up your outfits. Dope to make your wardrobe look like an All-
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GLAMOUR FOR THE TEENS This is 'specially for gals from 12 to 18. How to really glamour yourself up. Skin care, make-up, hairdo's for your particular beauty problem. Free, just send a LARGE, self-addressed, stamped (3c) envelope D
HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL For over I 8's — a beauty
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HOW TO HAVE LOVELY HAIR Encyclopedia on hair care. Hair-do's styled for you, setting in- structions. Free, send a LARGE, self-addressed, stamped (3c) envelope D
HOW TO LOSE WEIGHT 12-page chart giving you all the safe ways to lose weight. 2 easy- to-follow scientific diets. Exercises for reducing every part of body, plus scoring chart. Free, send LARGE, self-addresse.d, stamped (3c) envelope O
CRYSTAL BALL DEPT
HANDWRITING ANALYSIS (10c) Send in a sample of your handwriting or your G.l.'s in ink (about 25 words), and Shirley Spencer will > analyze it for you and tell you how he really feels. Send 10c for each analysis and enclose a self-addressed, stamped (3c) envelope. AD- DRESS YOUR ENVELOPE TO MISS SHIRLEY SPENCER, c/o MODERN SCREEN, but only for Handwriting Analysis . . ■ •□
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ADDRESS YOUR ENVELOPE: Service Dept.. MODERN SCREEN. 149 Madison Avenue. New York 16. N. Y.
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V°U ;* He L
Between sets, do you preserve your wave— □ By combing only
□ By brushing and combing
□ By using a net
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7
Do you think her dancing position —
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□ Looks affected
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|
Would |
you entertain a mixed crowd |
|
| with — |
□ Your snapshot album |
|
□ A radio concert |
|
|
□ A Valentine party |
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What medal it he wearing?
□ Sharpshooter
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□ Congressional Medal
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(Continued from page 60)
pie assume that the picture calls for a beard, that's their tough luck, he never
said so. , , , •
He's a wandering dresser, keeps his clothes in both bedrooms and goes leaping from back to front. Finally emerges in gabardine suit, white shirt, knitted tie, wool socks, moccasins and cowboy belt. Same old bags he's owned for two years. Hasn't needed new clothes for pictures, so why buy any? All his roles have been in uniform, except for one scene an Mme. Curie," and Walter Pidgeon loaned him the suit for that.
He waves good-by to the house arid wishes for the umpteenth time he could have a dog.
T
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outside's out of bounds . . .
Maybe he'll drop in at Steve Brody's for lunch and a swim. Steve's got a fabulous colored guy— dishes up a buffet like Solo- mon in all his glory— fried chicken, salads, deviled eggs, hot biscuits, lemon meringue pie. Eventually, of course, hell come to roost at the Wynns. If it's late, little Neddy fixes him with a baleful eye—
"Thought you were going to take me to the outside things—"
In the center of town there s a little amusement park with a creaky carousel and a couple of brokendown rides, lo Neddy, they spell glamour. He calls them the outside things.
"No gas," Van explains. "How did you get here? Walk/ "Here's close by. The outside things are far away—" ,T ., , .
"And long ago," quips Neddy. Okay, tell me a story." „ f
Which settles that. In whats left ot the afternoon, Van helps Keenan dig round the garden. Or they polish up the motor- cycles that M-G-M won't let them ride. After supper, it's gin rummy or records or just chewing the breeze. Van leaves early, takes his script to bed with hun, eats an apple, smokes a cigarette, catches the late news flashes and turns out the light. He's asleep by 11.
Weekdays he's at the studio. Dines at Lucey's or Chasen's or the Tropics The other night he had dinner with June Havoc, an old friend just back in town. Dinner s no good unless it's topped off with lemon meringue pie. .
If it's early, he'll take in a movie. Loves to get into a studio projection room and run old pictures— sits entranced through a number like "The Women." Feels like a novice sitting at the feet of masters. And so home and to bed. Doesn't sound very exciting, but it suits Van. It's all he wants, till the Nazis and Japs are finished. After that—
Well, he'd like a new car and four good tires and a tankful of gas, so he can roll cross-country to see his dad. Dads really the one who stays put. The farthest he 11 stir from Newport is up to Providence for a baseball game. The mere mention of Hollywood scares him stiff. When Van lay smashed up, half-conscious in the hospital, voices came through— "Don't you think we'd better send for his father?
He managed to move his head. Someone bent down. "Don't— send— for Dad. He d be frightened— lost. I'd— worry— "
Even now Van worries about him. He s always lived so much to himself. Now people have found out he's the father ot a movie star. Kids fall all over him. Some- how he doesn't seem to mind the kids- answers their questions, drags out scrap- books and the old family album. In fact, Van sometimes wonders what the devil he s worried about— looks as if Dad might be enjoying the whole business. Because when he sent home a set of his first color
photos, Dad wrote that they were being displayed in the local A&P and the bank. "How did they know you had em? Van inquired. No answer to that one. And then —he takes most of his meals at the same little restaurant. On Van's last birthday, came a card signed by five names— From the girls who feed your father."
Father and son have drawn closer smce Van's been away. Rather, they've grown less shy— at a distance — of showing their love for each other. Once a month Van phones his father — „j
Dad says, "I saw your new picture— J
"Has it hit town already?"
"I went up to Providence for it—
"Golly, I rate! Same as a baseball game — "
He wants every detail of the new house- how many rooms? How close to the neigh- bors' Always asks when Van's coming home. "Your room's just the same— movie stars all over the walls and ceiling.
Dad always calls a halt to the conversa- tion. "You've talked long enough—" "Worried about the bill?" "Someone's got to worry—" Van's convinced he lives on an eighth of his monthly check. Probably sticks the rest in the bank for the boy. Figures the boy's doing all right at the moment, but how can you tell about this movie busi- ness? So Van gets back at him by send- ing stuff— oranges from the Farmers Market, Martha Smith candies, sweaters, material for suits—
"Did you have that suit made up/ "Yes, but I'm saving it till you come home." , . j
That's the first thing he wants to do after the war.
He'd also like to get married, and have a lot of kids— a happy mixture of boys and girls— the more, the merrier. Thinks he'd make a good father, except he migh have a tendency to spoil 'em— especially the girls. His favorite picture is of Mr and Mrs. Van Johnson plus kids plus dogi in a homey house with a green, green lawn When he's married, he won't go anywhere they'll have everyone at their place.
By himself, he's no good at entertaining Takes the responsibility too hard. When Keenan Wynn got back from overseas, Van gave him a welcome home party. All he remembers is leaping around, shoving plates and glasses at people, under the illusion that an empty hand reflected on his hospitality and disgraced his name as a host. Marriage'll simplify the whole thing. "All right, honey," he'll say. IU be charming, and I'll pay ( the bills. The rest is on your shoulders — "
Honey's still an unknown quantity. Van hopes she'll show up— with other good things— when the war's over.
C'MON, SHELL OUT. RAKE IN! j
We're running a swap shop here — one story gets you five bucks. Some odds, eh?
What kind of a story, you ask.' Well, it doesn't really matter, as long as it deals with your encounter with a Hollywood personality and is a STORY— y'know, one of those things with a beginning, a middle and an end? It can be funny ha-ha or funny peculiar, it can be glad or sad, it can be long or short— in other words, it can be 'most anything as long as it 11 interest the rest of the M.S. gang and deals with a movie star. So cmon shell it out to: I SAW IT HAPPEN Editor, Modern Screen, 149 Madison Avenue, New York 16, N. Y., and rake in your five dollars.
COURAGE, SISTER . . .
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GOOD NEWS
(Continued jrom -page 58)
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The beaux who crash Lana Turner's table and ask her for dances when she is out with another guy— and she accepts.
The violent pink color of Lucille Ball's hair. The moody, unhappy expression on Hel- mut Dantine's face even at the most gala social events.
The fact that Wally Beery is one of the best dressed and groomed men in Holly- wood— off the screen.
Gloria de Haven eating three husky meals a day and still never putting on a pound.
Paulette Goddard's "little girl" voice com- bined with her truly sophisticated personality.
* * * Desi Arnaz (Lucille Ball's ex) has been
seeing cute little Marianne O'Brien, but the torch he still carries for Lucille lights up every little table where Desi dines even when
he is with another charmer.
* * * A song was written for Betty Hutton titled,
"I'm the Bobby Sox Sinatra Doesn't Send—" and she wouldn't sing it. Betty says she likes
Sinatra, and he sends her.
* * * I'm in the dog house with Bette Davis. I'm afraid 1 was responsible for the
Atlanta newspapers finding Bette living in a small house down there with her sister and her maid. I had printed that she was meet- ing Corporal Louis Riley, her new heart, somewhere in the East, and since the Corp was stationed close by Atlanta— well, Bette's incognito visit was no longer a secret.
The one and only Davis is plenty annoyed at me for interrupting her peaceful vacation, and hot wires were sent to Warners' Studio asking how— and where— I got the tip.
But poor Joe Cotten really got the bad end of the deal. He was in Atlanta appear- ing with "Since You Went Away" and would have grabbed off plenty of space if the ex- citement of finding Bette on hand hadn't over- shadowed his visit.
* •* * Dennis Morgan was attending an art exhibit and was very much taken with one of the lovely pictures.
"Yes, yes, Mr. Morgan— it is a delightful subject" enthused the dealer, "and a bargain, Mr. Morgan. Only $5,000."
"Listen." grinned Dennis, "My name is
Dennis Morgan. Not J.P."
* * * Van Johnson and Kay Williams are the cutest couple in town— and the blondest. Van's hair is almost as light as Kay's, and they look wonderful dancing cheek-to-cheek.
Their favorite number at their favorite spot Ciro's is— oddly enough, "I'll Walk Alone." No, I don't think it is because Kay is carrying a torch for Clark Gable, either— or Van for June Allyson.
The Gable-Williams romance is finis — to be sure. But they were never more than good playfellows, and it became embarrassing when it was. insisted that they would marry.
I think Clark felt the only way to solve the tangle was to make a clean break.
I
to
.State.
Is Robert Walker's face red! The other day he went over to Jennifer Jones' house to see his two kids, Bobby an Michael.
"Daddy," said Michael, "are you an actor? "Yes," said Bob.
"Are you a good actor?" persisted the boy, •"Why — er — " Bob stalled. "I guess you aren't very good," sai Michael, "or you would have one of these things"— and with that he brought out the Oscar Jennifer won for "The Song of Bernadette."
The argument was permanently closed
* * * Betty Grable is calling the hair-do s
created for herself in "Diamond Horseshoe" by the unflattering title of "Flat-top."
Another fashion tip from Grable: She's wearing her nails very long but completely minus polish.
* * * Who said that all actors hate their agents? Dick Haymes, the swoon-maker, and Helen
Forrest have the same agent. Bill Burton, to whom they are deeply devoted.
Recently they took out a joint life insur ance policy for $100,000 which Bill will collect
if either of them should die.
* * * Oh, what an actress is Tallulah Bankhead! j
Had the time of my life spending a couple of j hours on her set, "Night For Scandal," for- | merly "The Czarino."
She looked like a million wearing a regal upswept hair-do and a voluminous greefll velvet gown that weighed twenty-five pounds. J "Louella!" she called in her rich, throaty j voice when she caught sight of me, "Wai«i a minute, darling. I want to show you some- 1 thing funny." She came over with a small photograph in her hand. "Don't tell Veronica ! Lake — but look.'"
It was a photograph of Tallulah taken j when she was eighteen wearing a peekabooj bang with one eye completely hidden!
"Now tell me who started that damned |
thing!" she laughed.
* * * Vignette on Gloria De Haven: She hates j carrots . . . men who hum when they are j dancing . . . girls who call each other "honey" ... big hats . . . fried apples
. getting up early in the morning • • • j escorts who argue with waiters . . . char- 1 treuse . . . affected accents . . . New York) charmers who turn up their noses at Holly- j wood beaux ... She loves cinnamon . . |J Crosby records . . . Perky little hats withlj veils , . . red sports clothes . . . men withl low pitched voices . . . peach ice cream jj cones . . blue night gowns . . . rubies . . -J violets . . . Sunday mornings . . . cheese . . . men who use nicely scented shaving lotion * * * That's all for this month. See you next! month. But I don't want to close without thanking all of you who have written me such interesting letters. Please keep on writ ing, for I get valuable tips from you about your favorites and what you want to read
Please wait, Mr. Jennings, I'm crying again!"
T
JL thought I had all that out of my system, but I guess these darn gray vel- vet drapes Mr. Jennings uses set me off again.
You're with me everywhere I go, Joe, dar- ling...we scattered so many memories around in our few short weeks together. You climb the old mill stairs with me when we picnic on Strawberry Hill. You tease poor Miss Burrows at the post office so unmercifully about read- ing the mail she blushes at the very sight of you. You share my sodas at the corner drug store, my laughter at the movies, my dreams at night. And here where we had our wedding pic- ture taken, I can almost feel your hand in mine.
Oh, Joe, Joe — you've loved me, cared forme, spoiled me outrageously. Certainly I said (when you asked me) that I'd never had a fur coat, but I've never had the sun, moon and stars either! And when your sister brought IT over on Christ- mas Day with your dear letter ... all I could think was a lifetime isn't long enough ... to be with someone like you!
"I'M READY NOW, Mr. Jennings. Please make it your best picture — it's for my husband over- seas. The Hollander Mink-Blended Muskrat is a gift from him . . . and I want him to see . . . how very much I love it!"
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or other it always winds up a free-for-all with everybody's feelings hurt. How to avoid it? Well, either stay off dangerous subjects like Roosevelt or Sinatra, or add to your vocabulary such shock-absorbing phrases as, "I think you have a swell point there, but—" or "That's very true, but—. Don't be bull-headed about the person in question. Admit his faults, thus taking halt the wind out of your dissenting friends sails, but say you'll string along anyway.
"Then How About a Month From Next Tuesday?" How to dispose of the persistent swain, the one who will not take no for an answer. You've tried pleading other dates, sick headaches and visiting cousins, and he still doesn't get the picture. The boy will just have to be told very gently but firmly that you're a girl who likes mobs of men, and that you can't possibly give him a date more often than every two or three months. Say you don't blame hrm if that makes him mad, but it's just the way it is and you're sorry. Say further that you don't make the dates weeks in advance, it's just first come first served.
S'posing a boy you're out of your head about asks you for a date on a night you re already spoken for, how to say "no, with- out terminating the whole thing? By your expression let him see you're heartsick that you can't make it, and say something like, "Darn it, not this Saturday, Bill, but I'll be hanging on the phone till you ask me again." Bold? Well, frankly, yes, but faint heart never won slick guy, y'know.
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I am quite nice-looking, have attractive clothes, am popular with the girls— but draw a complete blank swain-wise. Why do you suppose the guys don't like me, and is there any hope for me at all? M. R., Denver, Colorado.
With slightly different wording, and various postmarks, this problem has shown up at least a hundred times in this months mail. And isn't it a stinker? We asked the boys what it is that perfectly darling, smoothly dressed gals lack so heartbreak- ingly often? It's a subtle combination, they told us, of warmth and casualness. An easy friendliness. A grin or a wink or a whis- pered "hi" when you eke into class five minutes late. Warmth and casualness. As small a business as that. How do you get it when you're just plain frantic at the sight of a boy? This way, kids. It sounds impossible, but try it for a week and see for yourself. Imagine that you are a very popular girl. Imagine it so hard that you get a feeling of security and self-confidence right down to your very soul. Clutching that feeling tight, whip off to school or work and act ac- cordingly. The feeling of terror, of des- peration will be gone, and you'll find your- self able to grin at familiar male faces on the bus, actually able to say "Hi, Joe," in a perfectly natural voice. Don't you see, it's only the fear that boys can't stand you that makes you act so differently with them than you do in the warm friendly circle of gals or family. Once you overcome that nonsensical, but ever-so-real terror, we promise you that within a month you 11 be date-bait.
Johnny and I are very much in love, but recently another girl has come into the picture. She's new at his school, and Im at a bit of a disadvantage for I go to another school. What can I do to keep him from liking her more and me less? A. R., Birmingham, Alabama.
You don't give us too much evidence,
but we imagine that he's been dating this gal and that is why you're alarmed. Well, don't get Maggie-and-Jiggsish and start heckling him about her. Ask him no ques- tions, and— if it kills you— show no signs of jealousy. Above all, do not belittle her in any way within his earshot. A new girl is always kind of fascinating to the boys, and your boy will come out of it without a scratch. Only if the thing goes on and on should you make an issue of it, and at that time do be serene and unfeline. Offer him his freedom. We feel sure he won't take it, but if he does, you'll at least have your pride. And say, if he does choose her, you're well rid of the old fickle-puss.
1 am a teen-age girl who is simply crazy about Frank Sinatra. I live with my grandmother who seems to think Frankie is awful. I lose my temper a dozen times a day with her and am anxious to know how I can make her feel differently about him. Kathryn M., Menasha, Wisconsin. ; I If it's his voice your grandmother can't bear, we're afraid nothing you can say will change her mind. It's just one of those things, like olives or bridge. You like it or you don't. However, if it's Frankie as a person she doesn't like, we guess she doesn't know him very well. Get her to read our life story that ran in the Septem- ber and October issues, and bet you'll have a new fan on your hands.
My sister was a regular devil and con- sequently got into all sorts of trouble when she got out of school. Now my parents have the idea that I have to be protected from the evils of the world. I'm 17 years old and have never been allowed on a date in my life. They won't even let me go with the boys I've grown up with. My mother insists that she trusts me, and certainly she has had no reason to doubt me, so why must I suffer because of my sister'; mistakes? Gwynne, North Dakota.
We certainly see your point, chum, an we can see your parents', too, although we think their tactics are off the beam. They probably feel that your sister got into trouble because she wasn't watched care- fully enough. This business of policing you is sort of overcompensation. We think the only solution is a really deep discussion of the situation with your mother. Ask her if she thinks it would be fair for the state to punish an entire family for the wrong- doings of one of its members, and let her see that that's the very theory she's going on. If you are self-supporting or expect to be soon, you can make her realize that whether or not you live at home is really a matter of choice, and if things continue the way they are that you will have no alternative but to move elsewhere so that you can conduct your life normally and happily. Try not to get excited during the talk, but be at your most clear-headed and logical. Agree to compromise at first on home dates or double dates, until you've established your "credit," so to speak; then proceed gradually and belatedly to the average dating schedule of a 17-year-old.
We're the original problem-gal, you know, so if you've trouble with a guy, a career, a baby, write and tell us about it. We'll answer by mail if you like, but be sure to put your name and address on the actual letter, not just on the envelope. They have a way of getting separated. Stop getting gray hair over your own fiendish dilemma, and write us about it this very second. Here's who and where we are: Jean Kinkead, MODERN SCREEN, 149 Madison Avenue, New York 16, N.
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who hadn't lived in a house since his baby days. Raised in this modern factory town, Hollywood, utterly unknown, with no more pull than a busted-down jeep, no money, no name and often not enough food.
But still a kid who never dimmed his natural sunshine, never let disillusioned cynics of the studio extra ranks touch his high hopes or blight his faith. A kid who still doesn't drink or smoke or swear or chase around.
That is the modern movietown miracle of Lon McCallister, more miraculous be- cause what has made him an idol of mil- lions is the fresh, honest, unspoiled, Ameri- can youth nature of his personality. The rare charm which made a great author like James Hilton call him "the most charming boy discovered in Hollywood in many seasons," and which made the great Katha- rine Cornell write after "Stage Door Canteen," "when I saw our picture I though of sending you a telegram ... I was so touched and impressed by your performance. Time and time again you made me cry ... I felt very lucky my scene was with you, for you were the one who gave it reality."
Spring came late to Southern California in 1923. Rain washed the streets, and the morning ocean mists were still cold when Madaline McCallister entered the Angelus Hospital to have her first and what was to be her only child. On the evening of the seventeenth when her baby was born, it should have been daylight, but electric lights still blazed in the maternity ward rooms. A white clad nurse glanced briefly at the chart marked, "Mrs. H. A. Mc- Callister" and waited for her patient to wake up. When her eyes fluttered open at last, the nurse smiled cheerily. "A fine baby boy," she said. "How is he?" „ "Don't you worry about that boy, chuckled the nurse. "He'll do all right. I've never seen a baby get started so quick. Why, he's already opened his eyes— they re blue— opened them up bright and wide, just a minute ago. Stared right up into the electric lights and kicked his coverlet off! And, Mrs. McCallister, you know what? The little rascal looked at me, and I'll swear he laughed!"
Madaline McCallister smiled. "Thats just your imagination."
"No— that's exactly what he did. ; By the way, you aren't the only one who's had a baby. Mrs. Hoot Gibson is right down the hall."
"The movie star's wife?
velvety future . . .
The nurse nodded. "Now we'll fix you up nice and comfortable, and then we'll let you see your new boss."
Madaline McCallister settled back on her pillow and smiled. A baby boy, healthy, the nurse said, and happy. Already she made plans. He'd be Herbert Alonzo Mc- Callister, Junior, named after his father, only they'd probably call him "H. A.' around the house as most Midwestern families did when there were Juniors and Seniors with the same first name. He'd grow up to be something important, a doc- tor or a minister, maybe. He'd have the best of every care, the finest schooling, the biggest chance a baby ever had, that was certain. Madaline McCallister said a little prayer thanking Heaven she had plenty of means to raise little H. A. with every ad- vantage. It never remotely occurred to her that the wealth which now made her feel so warmly secure could ever vanish. Because the Scotch-Irish McCallisters
and the English descended Hockings, her side of the family, were people of property —always had been. Around Carmi, Illi- nois, R. B. Hocking, Lon's grandfather, had his finger in a lot of profitable business pies, jewelry stores, theaters, farm lands and city property. When Lon's parents married and moved down to Little Rock, Arkansas, they sold out their Illinois holdings and acquired new ones there. Always they prospered, it seemed, and after 1918 when Lon's dad came back from Army duty in the first World War and decided to settle in California, it was no Arkie-Okie migration. The McCallis- ters settled in style.
boom town . . .
They chose the town of Inglewood, Lon's mother and father and her parents, Grand- father and Grandmother Hocking. They owned the biggest house in town, so roomy that today it has been made over into a sanatorium. Herbert Alonzo McCallister, Sr., and his father-in-law went into part- nership in the real estate business, ran smack into a California boom, and in ■ hardly any time owned half the town and had a mortgage on the other half. On«| paper Lon's father and grandfather soon . were millionaires. No wonder Madaline McCallister felt content and secure about I her new son's future.
It seemed to Lon in his toddling days that his papa must own everything nice there was in the world. There was the bowling alley in the Hocking Building, named after his grandfather, of course, j When Lon was barely able to walk, his grandfather would let him tumble the tiny duckpins with his hands or help him push a bowling ball into the "blocks," as he called the pins, and send them toppling. And there was the even greater wonder, the fantastic child's dream come true, of his father's candy factory down in indus- trial Los Angeles. There his father would take him among the rich, tantalizing smells of chocolate, taffy and butterscotch and a million kinds of creams and nougats. He d hold him up, screaming with delight, and let him dip his tiny fingers into the vat of cooling chocolate and smear his face hap- pily with the nectar and ambrosias of moppethood. , . _ . ,
Particularly Lon liked the big Packard roadster with the rumble seat and its won- derful smell of leather upholstery. The McCallisters and the Hockings liked to travel. They had the highway adventure spirit of a generation that had discovered wheels and distant horizons. Lon was bundled in blankets and put with Grand- mother Hocking in the rumble seat where he insisted on riding. He liked to sit back there and have his grandmother smg old- time songs. Then he'd try them himself.
None of his family wanted to have him out of sight a minute. He went tagging along, as soon as his stubby legs could carry him, with his mother and grand- mother when they shopped in Los Angeles. Their greatest dread on these excursions was that somehow, despite extreme vig- ilance, Lon would get lost. For this reason as soon as Lon could talk, he was trained to spout his name, address and telephone number right back at anyone who even said "Hello" to him. Kindly ladies, at- tracted by his rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, would stop to pat his yellow curls and coo, "Hello there, little man." To their surprise Lon would recite rapidly, Her- bert Alonzo McCallister, corner of Hill- crest and Locust, Inglewood 5433!" He was a friendly little guy from the
start. He seldom cried. He never got mad. On the block of the big Ingle- wood house he played serenely with his first chum, Billy, the kid who owned a tricycle and coveted Lon's wagon, while Lon envied his tricycle. They got together right away, hitched the trike onto the wagon, and everybody had fun. Lon learned right away the benefits of friendship, something that has since become almost a religion with him. Lon had a mess of distant cousins in California, too. Some of them he was crazy about. One or two were the kind of kids who make trouble.
kiddie crises . . .
But in all his kiddie crises, Lon was open, aboveboard and naively honest as he is today. Once a troublous cousin and Lon were playing around Grandmother Hocking's fishpool. The cousin stepped on a slippery spot, and down he went with a splash. He set up a loud wail and out ran the family, terrified.
"He pushed me," cried the cousin. "H.A. pushed me when I wasn't lookin'. He's mean to me. Wah-wah-wah!"
That astounded Lon. He had never been unjustly accused before. All he could think of was to tell the truth. "I didn't push him," he said, and then frankly, "but I didn't pull him out either."
Lon's first real chance to stray away from the shady side of the house and the apron strings of his adoring family came when the family moved from Inglewood to Los Angeles, selling the big mansion and building two white stucco, California- Spanish homes on Crenshaw Boulevard, down the hill from Hollywood. One for Lon's parents, one for his grandparents. For Lon, only five years old, it meant an exciting plunge into a new world, one where he would be getting around, meet- ing new kids. The prospect thrilled him, even then. He has always been wide-eyed about life. His mother bought him a new suit to celebrate the move into the big city. It had exciting, glamorous long pants and a real miniature man's fedora hat, and he carried a tiny cane. Now Lon thinks he must have looked like a midget in a circus, but then he thought it was hot stuff. Lon's mother was proud of his handsome looks. Perhaps it was pure and simple pride that her boy was the cutest ever born which made her enter him in an annual baby show, sponsored by the Los Angeles Daily Express at Long Beach. Certainly then she could have no designs on movies or the theater. She was far too careful with little Lon to expose him to any kind of a kiddie show business, and certainly money was no bait; they already had plenty.
Just the same, Herbert Alonzo McCallis- ter was announced in the kiddie parade, and he walked, stiff and proud, down the promenade on the pike at Long Beach, resplendent in a blue drummer boy's suit his mother had patiently sewed, and tap- ping a toy drum. In his first professional appearance, Lon McCallister's eyes shone with delight, and the judges took notice. He didn't win — there were too many doll baby taffy curled cuties. But he took a prize. Five dollars. He clutched it proudly in his fist all the way back home, and his mother put it in his bank. He would like to have that bill today as a souvenir, but Lon's bank and its contents were put to practical uses before very long.
Now in the new neighborhood a new event confronted him — school. It would be private school, of course. Nothing was too good for the little H.A. then. A suitable school for children was found, near thev Crenshaw Boulevard homes. Miss Lind- bergh's Children's school. Lon was almost six then. It was his first venture away (Continued on page 74)
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Nellie Reagan fixes up Corned Beef Hash "just the way Ronnie likes it ... cla.n sons have "average"
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For the Lucky Seventh in our Regional Series, Ronald Reagan's mother joins Jane in proving that folks eat well in THE MIDDLE WEST
What's Cookin', America?
S£ „"°mS-av3K .TufwhoCr. we to question anyone as adorable »s 5U Eeagans' cute and cuddlesome four year old!
When home on furlough, there s no sweeter sound to Ronnie, overs Jone, than the dinner bell . . especially when little Maureen rings it!
Winner of varsity letters in college athlete's lining for hearty food . egg-topped hash served with corn and cole slaw.
Ronnie has . such as
By Nancy Wood
Actually, most of our information and Middle West-style recipes came from Mrs. Reagan, Senior, who still lives in the little house she shared with Ronnie's father who died some while back. Ronnie and his brother Neil often drop in on her there. Ronnie invariably comes over and lets Mom cook for him when La Wyman is on a bond tour or in New York for personal appearances — as she was recently, in con- nection with the showing of "Doughgirls." (Which picture, incidentally, has nothing to do with bread making. You have our word for it, in case you haven't already seen it!) You'll be seeing Jane soon again, by the way, in Warners' big new musical "Hollywood Canteen." And won't that be a show — with sixty big name players in it!
But to return to Mrs. Reagan. A plea- sure, we assure you, for Maureen's "Nana" is a warm, friendly person; besides being a darned good cook!
Obviously her sons get their liking for typical American dishes from enjoying the fine meals she has always loved to prepare for them. "Ronnie," proclaims his proud parent, "has always preferred simple stuff, simply cooked. Has fruit, cereal and coffee for breakfast, little more than a sandwich for lunch, but demands a big dinner."
It seems he loves steaks, mock chicken legs (a family favorite of which more later) and corned beef hash. (There's corned beef hash and corned beef hash, as any man could tell you — and as any man will, for they set themselves up as con- noisseurs on the subject. Bet they can't find a better version than Mrs. Reagan's.)
Then, too, Ronnie — like many another Middle Westerner — takes great interest in the soil, gives part of every furlough to his Victory Garden and thinks there's nothing finer than his own home-grown vegetables. Especially favors sour cream slaw and corn on the cob.
To this list Jane added corn off the cob, in the form of corn fritters. (Being from Missouri, Jane says you'll "have to show her" that fritters come any finer than these!)
Then, of course, there are desserts. Spe- cifically there's Cocoa Cake, a big favorite with both the Reagan boys — especially when eaten as a late-at-night snack, ac- companied by a big glass of milk. Fact is, Ronnie and Neil always were and still are inveterate refrigerator raiders. Used to rout Mom out of bed when they'd get in late and have her join them in the kitchen where they'd eat their own version of a Dagwood sandwich, followed by generous slices of Mom's famous cake.
And now how about recipes for all these Corn Belt favorites which come to you with the Reagans' hearty, en- dorsement? They include the follow- ing: Corned Beef Hash, Mock Chicken Legs, Crispy Corn Fritters, Sour Cream Slaw, those "yummy" Peanut Butter Cookies that Maureen men- tioned and Mom's Cocoa Cake. Six specialties, with directions for making a Dagwood Sandwich thrown in, for a "Lucky Seven" in the line of recipes. Trying them out will prove to be a fine way to start the New Year; and they're yours for the asking, as always. Be sure to enclose a stamped self- addressed envelope when you send for your FREE Reagan-Wyman leaflet.
THE MODERN HOSTESS, Dept. R. R.
MODERN SCREEN MAGAZINE 149 Madison Ave., New York 16, N. Y.
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(Continued from page 71) from the guarded supervision of home. He took to it at once, in spite of the spinach which popped up at lunch, the spinach he hated and the gagging rhubarb pie, sup- posed to be so good for growing kids. Another bore was the daily afternoon nap.
But Lon remembers Miss Lindbergh as a patient, kindly lady who took good care of him and taught him his elementary lessons with thoroughness and kindness. Years later, when he saw Martha Scott as the schoolmistress in "Cheers for Miss Bishop," Lon was right back in the double seat where he learned his ABC s along with his first lady love, a little French girl with shiny blue-black hair. Her nat- ural-born French coquetry and her in- triguing way of saying her words made six-year-old Lon fall, as today his affec- tionate nature still falls for every girl he woiks with on the screen. Jeanne helped him with the baffling French words. They held hands under the desk top and at re- cesses raced around the school yard on their tricycles. Jeanne is the only pupil at Miss Lindbergh's Lon remembers clearly today. She was his first girl.
But he didn't have much to say about it Pneumonia seized Lon when he was barely in knee pants. He had never been a strong kid, physically. Lon was his mother's boy. He inherited a fragile build from her, and it was only through strenuous gymnastics in his grammar and high school days later on that he developed the small, compact and mus- cular body he owns today. He came home one day from school with a fever that soared that night. For days it was a ques- tion whether they'd save him, but he passed the crisis. Then for gray weeks he lay in bed, too weak to move. The doctor feared his lungs might succumb to t.b. There was only one thing to do, Lons mother reasoned— take him to Arizona where the ozone charged air would banish that danger.
tiny tramp . .
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They went to Phoenix and found a place to stay right out on the desert at the foot of Camelback Mountain. When they car- ried Lon there, he couldn't walk. In a few weeks he could trudge a mile or two with his dog, "Bunny," and play like he was hunting Indians. Then one day Lon was missing. Missing with him was Patsy ot course, a blanket off his bed, his bow - and-arrow, an umbrella, a grocery basket and cookies off the shelf. It wasn t hard to guess what had happened. Lon had set off on a hunting expedition. Frantically the McCallisters scoured the desert— but no Lon. Just before nightfall a truck roared up to the camp. A burly driver swung Lon down from the seat.
"Found him on the highway, he laughed. "Kit Carson here wanted me to take him to the mountains, but I reckoned home was a better idea!"
Lon told his story frankly. He d set out into the desert for wildcats or some other interesting big game. But after a while he ran into a fenced range crowded with cattle, and a big bull had lumbered up bel- lowing angrily. That was bigger game than Lon bargained for. He scurried back to- ward the highway, and the truckdriver knew a runaway kid when he saw one.
Lon's naturally adventurous spirit had got him in trouble before, but even the dismal consequences of his first runaway had not cured his spunky habit of hunting distant horizons. His first Christmas in the new Los Angeles house had been badly crimped by that escapade, too.
trailing south . . .
Lon had made chums with two little Japanese kids, Esau and Tetzel, sons of
the corner vegetable market man. Quickly they confided the wonderful news about Christmas in the Crenshaw neighborhood. A chain of gasoline service stations had corralled Santa Claus himself in person, and Saint Nick was handing out marvelous colored baloons. It was late afternoon when this bulletin was flashed to the in- credulous Lon. He was so fascinated that his mother's ultimatum not to leave the front yard went glimmering. "Come on, said Esau, "let's go see Santa Claus.'
No kid could resist a challenge like that. Lon tore off immediately. But the station attendant in their block grinned. 'You kids are too late," he said. "Santy Claus just left here. Filled his reindeers up with gas and went off sixty miles an hour. No he didn't leave no balloons here. Where is he? Why, I imagine up the street towards Wilshire at Number 20 station."
Off Lon and his two Jap pals chased. Santa wasn't at Number 20. Nor at Num- ber 22. They kept up the hunt breath- lessly. Pretty soon they were lost. That was a black day for everybody concerned. At home the McCallisters were wild with fear. There had been kidnapping scares; kids were run over every day on the fast traffic of Los Angeles boulevards. The whole neighborhood joined the search. The police rolled up with wailing sirens. Lon s dad raced his Packard up and down all the neighborhood streets. Darkness fell and still no trace. Madaline McCallisters nerves snapped, and she cried hysterically. As for Lon, he was way across town by then, still hunting Santa.
Around nine o'clock at night a policeman found the three seekers of childhoods grail. They were dirty, tired and panting, but still gamely in the chase. He raced them back home to Lon's hysterical folks. Lon's dad took him into the house, into his tearful, distracted mother.
"This is your mother's birthday and now see what you have done! You've ruined her happiness, made her cry."
Lon himself broke into tears. That touched him. He couldn't bear to hurt anyone, especially the person he loved best in the world. He couldn't give any ex- cuses for his crime, except to stammer out the reason: He was hunting Santa Claus. , . ,
His father took him into the back room, and unknown to his prostrated mother, gave him a good tanning. When that was over, he said, "And now I suppose you might as well know. You've been chasing
I SAW IT HAPPEN
We'd seen three stage shows the day before, and we were sitting through our second the next day. The show was "Tars And Spars" featuring Victor Mature. My girl friend and I had got- ten the autograph of nearly everyone in the cast except Vic's, and frankly, we were a little annoyed at his sitting in the boxes during the first part of the stage show and mugging. So when he stuck his head out from behind the curtains, we made a face at him, repeating the gesture as well during his performance that evening.
It wasn't very nice of us, I admit, but Vic got back at us. We were sit- ting in the first row, and Vic looked down at us and declared, "There are my two cousins— Im-mature and Pre- mature!"
Even though we were embarrassed, we were Mature fans from then on.
By the way, we got his autograph after that show.
Dorothy Stewart, West Allis, Wisconsin
something that wasn't there. Just a man dolled up in a red suit. There's no such thing as Santa Claus."
Lon's tears dried, and he stopped his sobs. He was paralyzed by the awful thing his father said. No Santa Claus! It was the end of the world. He forgot the smart of the spanking in the greater misery of this shattering news.
Lon's ready palship with the Japanese market kids was typical of his warm nature and democratic outlook on life. Although he was a little rich boy, he was never, thanks to his sensible Midwestern folks and his own character, ever tainted with a touch of snobbery. Even today race distinctions and preiudices make him crawl inside. His own character, too, made him naturally eager to Know and like every- thing and everybody. As a kid he was always getting bitten by dogs, because he'd walk right up to all of them, strange or familiar, and put his arms around them. He was riding in the open Packard one summer day with his mother when a bee flew in and settled on the seat. Happily Lon reached out, grabbed it and pressed it to his face, thrilled with the buzzing wings. Of course, the bee blitzed him pronto, right on the end of the nose. It seemed Lon would never learn.
That was one of the reasons he begged to go to public school after he came back from the Arizona health trip. Lon wanted to be like the rest of the kids. He sensed that private schooling set him apart from the rest, and instinctively he didn't like it. He got his way, and it was a lucky thing. Events were to enter Lon's young life that would demand all his talent for making his way in the mob of underprivileged hu- manity. The rich boy was to lose his riches and become poor, about as poor as they come, and almost overnight.
house of cards . . .
The whole nation shared in the first tragedy — the Great Depression. The crash that came out of the blue in 1929 caught H. A. McCallister and his father-in-law, R. B. Hocking, with real estate holdings and business interests scattered all over South- ern California. Some of the bigger prop- erties were held on a shoe-string, and to save them, the assets had to be cashed in. As the Depression yawned and values plummeted, the fortune they had built tumbled like a stack of cards. Meanwhile Lon's mother and father had come to a parting of the ways.
It would be hard to say which disaster had the most effect on Lon's young life. His father had been away a lot on busi- ness; Lon had never been half so close to him as to his mother. He had always liked his dad, as he does today (they see each other frequently) , and he remembers him as kindly and indulgent.
The split in Lon's family came before the crash that swept them from wealth to poverty. Lon's grandmother had bought an apartment house in Los Angeles. Lon and his mother moved in there, and for a short time life went on as if nothing had hap- pened. Then one day Lon saw the tight lips and anxious frowns on the grown-ups' faces. That night when he lay awake in his room, he heard the murmur of the family conference. He caught snatches of conversation, "No place to raise the money . . . bank's calling the loans . . . panic . . . everyone's in the same boat . . . guess this is the end . . . they want us to leave. . . ." He wondered briefly what it was all about, but pretty soon he was asleep. Next morn- ing his mother told him. "We're going to move.''
"But," said Lon, "I like Granny's apart- ment house."
"I know," smiled his mother sadly, "but it isn't Granny's house any more."
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boy's world . . .
At first poverty didn't mean much more in Lon's life than the family separation had. When kids are young, they accept changes as new adventures. There s no room in an active child's life for pride or social distinctions. Lon went on to grade school as if nothing had happened. But he felt the cloud of anxiety which settled over his family and hovered there. He saw the tight, pinched look around his mothers eyes, and he saw his grandfather sit star- ing vacantly out the window. Sometimes he even caught whispers, "I m afraid KB. won't be able to stand this at his age. A few times he caught ominous hints that were supposed to be kept from his ears. His grandfather had been muttering something about "ending it all. Ihe shock of losing the security they d never questioned even stole the bustling cheeriness of Grandmother Hocking for a time. Madaline McCallister's fragile body grew thinner, and the bright girlish smile that Lon adored was absent. But the fam- ily despair was like a brief sickness that passed. Today, when Lon looks back he says, 'I'm pretty proud of my family. They did what Americans have always done when the going got tough. They got busy.
As a girl, Madaline Hocking had been handy with a needle, and her mother had taught her what she knew. They d set up a dressmaking establishment. Lons mother designed the dresses and Grandma Hocking sewed them. Their prices were cheap; they had to be. But nobody knew them, few customers came in. In a tew weeks they knew they'd have to try some- thing else, something, too, that Grand- father Hocking could have a hand in. tie was getting restless and gloomy.
They turned to the only other domestic skill they had, cooking. Back in Illinois, as she is today, Grandma Hocking had been famous for her cakes and pies. They found a cafe they could rent down m the industrial section of Los Angeles. All ot them went to work, even Lon on batur- days and Sundays, washing dishes and hustling out trays. The customers were mostly truck drivers and laborers, and to cater to them, the lunch room had to open early and close late. Every morning the house was empty, except for Lon, at five o'clock. His breakfast, cooked, but cold, was on the stove. When he got up, Lon warmed and ate it and went off to school. He had lunch at school, and he fixed his own dinner at night. He didnt see his family again until they got home, ex- hausted, at 9 o'clock that evening. And Lon was just eight years old.
But already he was a cheerful, self- sufficient little guy. He had no playmates in the new neighborhood, but he had a new pup, Patsy. He could have fun by him- self He glued together kites and flew them until they snagged on telephone wires. His electric train, Lon's most prized possession, had survived the financial wreck. He sat it up in the house. He had some books, too, kids books-"The Wizard of Oz," 'Black Beauty," Stevenson's "A Child s Garden of Verses" He could lie on the floor tor hours lost in these and other books he could bring home from school. But most of the time he just sat out on the front steps of the flat, watching people go by, playing with Patsy and day-dreaming. He could always find plenty to dream about, as Lon still can today.
I SAW IT HAPPEN
When Walter Pidgeon was here in Washington for the President's Birth- day Ball, I called him at his hotel with the intention of getting an interview with him for my school paper.
When I was finally put through to his room, a man sounding suspiciously like Mr. Pidgeon answered, and after hearing the purpose of my call told me, "Mr. Pidgeon is taking a shower.
I told him he sounded very much like Mr. Pidgeon, whereupon he said he was complimented and called out to the "bathing" Mr. P., "She says I sound like you." n After a moment of "conversation, he reported that Mr. Pidgeon said he was insulted but that he would talk to me anyhow.
ho and behold, the receiver was picked up, and the same voice con- tinued with, "How are you,