Modern Screen 1958-05 Vol. 52, No. 4

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ae . Le James Darren: “WE WERE 17 ND SECRETLY MARRIED...”

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MAY, 1958... AMERICA'S GREATEST MOVIE MAGAZINE STORIES Perry Como 21 Happy 25th Wedding Anniversary by Barbara Mayer Brigitte Bardot 22 Her Shocking Life by Héloise Nouvelle Dolores Hart, Venetia Stevenson, Diane Jergens, Molly Bee 24 How To Snag A Stag as told to Helen Weller 28 For Girls With Spring Fever—BOYS! Tommy Sands-Molly Bee 30 Tommy! Don’t Throw Your Love Away! Barbara Stanwyck 32 Down Memory Lane by Hugh Burrell | June Allyson-Dick Powell 34 Junie On The Spot! by Daniel Stern James Darren 35 Introducing James Darren! by Ed DeBlasio Janet Leigh-Tony Curtis 38 Two Ladies In The Tub by Janet Leigh | Marilyn Monroe 40 Honey, You Can Have A Baby! | Alan Ladd 42 The Best Party Sue And I Ever Went To 44 Here Come The Brides i Debra Paget 45 I Said Yes On Our First Date! by Helen Weller | Richard Egan-Pat Hardy 46 In My Opinion, They Were Born For Each Other! \ by Louella Parsons || Joanne Woodward- || Paul Newman 48 We Waited Five Years For This Moment : Geoffrey Horne 50 The Night That Geoffrey Proposed by Beverly Linet | Glenn Ford 62 Somebody Has To Believe In You Guy Madison 66 Sheila Made A Different Guy Out Of Me | by Peer Oppenheimer FEATURES Elvis Presley 19 On Cloud Nine . . . With Elvis | Steve Cochran 56 He Owes His Life To A Cat Charlton Heston 58 Moses And The Dancing Girl Jerry Lewis 68 Jerry Lewis’s Surplus Suit Problem Erin O’Brien 70 Erin Wouldn’t Kiss Him For 3 Months | Arthur O’Connell 74 An Enlightening Interview | Robert Taylor 76 How Robert Taylor Proposed ee - Shelley Winters 78 How Realistic Can You Get? - Frank Sinatra 80 “Kid, You’ve Got Talent” | Q Miiko Taka 82 “You Oughta Be In Movies,” The Producer Said iG é pee Ture 0 Anna Magnani 84 An Early Morning Encounter DEPARTMENTS ; 11 Louella Parsons In Hollywood 4 The Inside Story | 6 New Movies | 60 $100 For You 72 May Birthdays | There’s a very special quality about her. It’s in the gracious way she moves... . the artfully simple way she dresses .. . the | 3 ly assured way she speaks She’s the VOUUU UC OU UU UCC eee DAVID MYERS, edit | a , editor | kind of person who goes about her living SAM BLUM, managing editor J. WILLIAM LUSZCZ, art editor } poised and confident. “Problem days : ‘ HELEN WELLER, west coast editor GWENN WALTERS, fashion and beauty editor have no meaning for her. She relies on RHYN SERLIN. story editor GENE HOYT, photo research Tampax—knows it completely protects, TERRY DAVIDSON, associate editor KEN REGAN, photo research while it keeps her secret safe. ED DEBLASIO, special correspondent FERNANDO Heereee art diregtt : : : BEVERLY LINET, contributing editor PIERRE DU FAYET, asst. art editor With Tampax® internal sanitary pro- ERNESTINE R. COOKE, ed. assistant tection, she’s never bothered with pads, EUGENE WITAL, photographic art WILLIAM WEINBERGER, cover belts, pins rapa never worried about odor PTT OOOO CCL LCCCLOE LOC LCLL LOL CLCLOLLOL LULL LLOL LOLOL LALO obo uoLo ALLL LLLL Lob Lo forming . . . never concerned with dis- Cover portrait of Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh and James Darren by Larry Barbier, Jr., of Globe. Other photographer’s credits on page 84. IMPORTANT NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS posal or carrying problems. Invisible and unfelt when in place, Tampax makes her literally forget there’s a difference in days of the month! No wonder millions of smart young moderns use Tampax! It’s certainly the nicer way, the better way of handling those days. Why don’t you use Tampax, too? Try it this month. 3 absorbencies (Regular, Super, Junior), wherever drug products are sold. Tampax Incorporated, Palmer, Mass. ee ates reen is published monthly with the exception of the January issue. All ere re ene after the December 1957 issue will be extended one month for each January issue due but not published. Changes of address should reach us five weeks in advance of the next issue date. Give both your old and new address, enclosing if possible your old address label. POSTMASTER: Please send notice on form No. 3579 to 111 Eighth Avenue, New York 11, N. Y. MODERN SCREEN, Vol.52,.No. 4, May, 1958. Published monthly except January by Dell Publishing Company, Inc. Office of publication at Washington and South Aves., Dunellen, N. J. Executive and editorial offices, 261 Fifth Avenue, New York 16, N.Y. Dell Subscription Service: 321 W. 44 St., New York 36, N. Y. Chicago advertising office, 221 No. La Salle St., Chicago, Ill. Albert P. Delacorte, Publisher; Helen Meyer, President, Paul R. Lilly, Executive Vice-President, Harold Clark, Vice-President-Advertising Director. Published simultaneously in the Dominion of Canada. International copyright secured under the provisions of the Revised Convention for the protection of Literary and Artistic Works. All rights reserved under the Buenos Aires Convention. Single copy price 25c in U. S. A. and Possessions, and Canada. Subscription in U. Sv A. and Canada $9.95 one year, $3.50 two years; $4.75 three years; foreign, $3.25 a year. Reentered as second class matter March 25, 1957, at the Post Office at Dunellen, N. J., under Act of March 3, 1879! Copyright 1958 by Dell Publishing Company, Inc. Printed in U.S. A. The publishers accept no responsibility for the return of unsolicited material. Trademark No. 596,800.

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ie GLENN FO FAS Ff... | when | | SHIRLEY Mac L AINE with LESLIE NIELSEN - MICKEY SHAUGHNESSY - EGAR BUCHANAN seen Phy by WILLIAM BOWERS and JAMES EDWARD GRANT Adaptation by WILLIAM ROBERTS ° Based on a Story by JAMES EDWARD GRANT » In CinemaScope and METROCOLOR Directed by GEORGE MARSHALL * Produced by EDMUND GRAINGER * An M-G-M Picture

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PERIODIC PAIN Don’t let the calendar make a slave of you, Betty! Just take a Midol tablet with a glass of water ... that’s all. Midol brings faster and more complete relief from menstrual pain—it relieves cramps, eases headache and chases the ‘‘blues.”’ “WHAT WOMEN WANT TO KNOW’ a 24-page book explaining menstruation is yours, FREE. Write Dep't F-58, Box 280, New York 18, N. Y. (Sent in plain wrapper), Bettys GAY wITH THE INSIDE STORY Want the real truth? Write to INSIDE STORY, Modern Screen, 321 West 44th Street, New York 36. The most interesting letters will appear in this column. Sorry, no personal replies. @ June Haver and Fred MacMurray have four children—are they all adopted ? —P.W., Ertz, PA. A Yes. @ Why does Grace Kelly still employ a Hollywood press agent? —D.T., DENVER, COL. A The movie colony expects Grace to re- turn to film-making eventually. @ Can you tell me how much money Ricky Nelson will earn this year? —S.T., Santa Fr, N.M. A Somewhere around $300,000 if his rec- ord royalties hold up. @ Why are recordings featuring male stars like Boone, Presley, and Belafonte out-selling recordings made by female stars like Doris Day and others? —G.L., Miami, Fra. A Nowadays most pop records are bought by teenaged girls who prefer male voices. Q@ Does Debra Paget's mother really weigh 325 pounds? —H.D., Los ANGELES, CALIF. A Your figure is exaggerated by 125 pounds at least. She’s dieting now. @ Is it on the level that in the Jean Simmons-Stewart Granger marriage, he does the cooking and cleaning? —D.Y., DENVER, CoOL. A Just the cooking. @ Is it true that Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds will get a divorce after their second child arrives? —B.T., Newark, N.J. A The Fishers are working out their problems. @ I have a bet that the last picture Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon ap- peared in together was Mrs. Miniver. Do I win or lose? —G.L., Lonpon, Enc. A Lose; last picture together was SCAN- DAL AT SCOURIE. @ Who plays tennis best in Hollywood? —G.L., Santa Fre, N.M. A Probably Gilbert Roland. Q Wasn’t Sammy Davis, Jr. romantically involved with a big movie queen recently ? —M.Y., Cuicaco, Ixt. A Yes. @ Is it true that Anna Maria Alber- ghetti has enough money for life? —D.L., San Francisco, CALir. A Yes; her parents wisely invested her child-time earnings. Q Wasn’t Pat Boone broken-hearted when his wife gave birth to a fourth daughter? Weren’t his parents against this marriage? —D.B., Fr. Pierce, Fra. A Boone was not broken-hearted. His parents weren't against the particular mar- viage; they were against very young mar- viage in general. @ During the filming of The Young Lions, wasn’t there a feud between Marlon Brando and Montgomery Clift? —C.K., Louisvitie, Ky. A No feud; they hardly worked together. @ Wasn’t there a feud in Japan between John Wayne and John Huston? —B.T., Tusa, OKtra. A No feud. Wayne just found difficulty in following Huston’s unique direction. @ Can you tell me how much Richard Widmark gets per picture? —S.B., Marion, Inp. A $200,000, and frequently a percentage of the profits. @ Is it true that Betty Hutton sang on Detroit street corners for pennies ? —J.F., Detroit, Micu. A Ves, as a youngster. Her fatherless family was very poor. @ Isn’t Mac Krim used as a blind for all those other boy-friends Kim Novak has? —T.R., Cuicaco, ILL. A Yes. @ That Las Vegas show girl Pat Sheehan —now with Dennis Crosby—didn’t she so steady with Bing Cresby for years? —R.R., SAN Francisco, CALIF. A She went with Bing, but not steadily. @ If Sophia Loren and her husband Carlo Ponti return to Italy, aren’t they in danger of being arrested because their marriage isn’t legal in Italy ? —N.D., DEeNveER, COL. A No great danger. @ Can you tell me how much Diane Varsi earns each week? —S.T., Fresno, CArir. A $400 a week. @ In Pal Joey, does Rita Hayworth do her own singing? —E.J., Wirmincton, Mp. A Anita Ellis has done most of it.

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©, Mistifison? | | | ) =— =— The warm and wonderful story of a boy who defied his father and found fame when he sent his | songs sizzling ‘round the world! WITH DIRECTED BY PRODUCED BY WRITTEN BY : : 3 i f BASED UPON THE LIFE AND MUSIC OF ( DADDY OF RHYTHM AND BLUES ) ii -

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MERRY ANDREW comedy with Danny Kaye Danny Kaye Pier Angeli Baccaloni Robert Coote Peter Mamakos = The perennial charm of Danny Kaye breaks into moments of true hilarity in Merry An- drew, the story of an English teacher who is scared of his own father—Pop is the head- master of the school. Danny has been engaged for five years to a prim teacher (Patricia Cutts). Danny is convinced that an ancient statuette of the god Pan is buried in a Sussex meadow. Finding it, he thinks, will give him the confidence he needs to stand up to his father. But this particular meadow is occupied by a traveling circus run by Baccaloni who, with his five husky sons, keeps a too-protec- tive eye on aerialist Pier Angeli. Danny, dressed for a safari, starts digging anyway. Following his map, he digs himself right up into the lion act during a matinee. At other times he takes over as master of ceremonies, is the hapless victim in a tumbling act, and is tossed from brother to brother on the flying trapeze—they’re getting even for Pier, who loves him, but can’t lure him away from his fiancée. It’s a gay film, carried by Kaye’s comic mastery—lMetrocotor, MGM. DESIRE UNDER THE ELMS passion in New England Anthony Perkins Sophia Loren Frank Overton Burl Ives Pernell Roberts a Family life as portrayed by Eugene O’Neill is always as peaceful as a pit of cobras. De- sire Under The Elms takes place on a New England farm, where a domineering, self-cen- tered, powerful old buzzard of a father (Burl Ives) brings a young and beautiful foreigner (Sophia Loren) as wife and housekeeper. She marries him for security only, so it’s no won- der that she falls for his son (Anthony Per- kins). Anthony’s two half-brothers leave for California when they realize they won’t in- herit the farm. Perkins sticks around because he feels that the farm is his, since his mother owned it before she married Burl. Sophia, enraged by Perkins’ first hatred of her, gets the promise from the old man that if they have a son he’ll leave the farm to her. The trouble is, it looks as if Burl will never die. The other trouble is, Perkins does not remain hostile for long—and the son Sophia has is his. Emotions in this film are never lukewarm or unexpressed; the acting is excellent —VisTA- VISION, PARAMOUNT. WARE TG WN. - 8 Pier Angeli falls for Danny Kaye, but he’s shy. Sophia Loren married Burl Ives... THE LONG, HOT SUMMER life in the deep south Paul Newman Joanne Woodward Anthony Franciosa Orson Welles Lee Remick mu Here is a picture of the South today, adapted from the work of novelist William Faulkner. It is brimming with vitality and the struggle of several young people to over- come the dullness in their lives and the domi- nation of Orson Welles, who owns a big house and, in fact, owns the whole town. His son (Anthony Franciosa) is doing all right helping with business, and he’s doing fine at home with his flamboyant wife (Lee Remick) until penniless Paul Newman and his shady reputa- tion arrive. Welles recognizes his own charac- ter in Newman and encourages him to take his son’s place—in business and in his own affec- tion. Orson’s daughter, Joanne Woodward, has her father’s fire, but it’s subdued. She prefers the genteel company of Richard Anderson, who has been nearly totally absorbed by his genteel mother. Orson wants heirs for his em- pire and he orders Joanne to marry either Anderson or Newman, but to hurry. While she is angrily rebelling at this ultimatum, Newman is being shocked into maturity and Franciosa, whose self-respect has reached the vanishing point, turns to violence to restore it. It’s a meaty story revealing many sides of the southerner’s character—and of people in gener- al—Detuxe Cotor, CrnemMaScope, 20TH-Fox. THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY a Nazi escapes Hardy Kruger Colin Gordon Michael Goodliffe Terence Alexander Jack Gwillim ms This is the true story of the only German prisoner of war taken by the British in World War II who escaped from captivity and made it back to the homeland. It was stubbornness rather than cleverness that finally turned the trick. His first attempt, in England’s Lake District, brings out what looks like the entire British infantry to hunt him down. His second attempt consists of posing as a Dutch pilot and brazenly presenting himself at an RAI station to steal a plane. He doesn’t. His final effort is to jump out of a moving train which is transporting him to a “safe” camp in Cana- da. He walks across country, which is buried in snow, and then walks across the St. Law- rence River, which is buried in ice. Of course, that is no boy-scout hike—he nearly freezes to death before he reaches America’s still- neutral soil. I must admit I was always root- ing for the other side—RANK. MANHUNT IN THE JUNGLE adventure in Brazil Robin Hughes Luis Alvarez James Wilson Jorge Montoro Natalia Manzuelas . = Seems that in 1925, one Colonel P. H. Faw- cett disappeared in the interior of Brazil while searching for an ancient city. Now, in 1928, Commander George Dyott (Robin Hughes) follows his trail with a rescue party. Starting from Rio de Janerio with mules and native helpers, he proceeds across miles of desert to the edge of a jungle which is inhabited by no- toriously unfriendly Kalapalos Indians as well as by man-eating animals—and man-eating plants, too! The mules go home and the party proceeds in canvas canoes. The rapids are bad enough, but the piranha fish—which attack anything that moves, and eat it alive—are awiul. Enter the Kalapalos, whose chief (Luis Alvarez) looks like a cross between Red Skel- ton and a cigar store Indian. First he wants presents; then he wants blood. The scenery’s wonderful—the film was photographed entire- ly in the Amazon country—and the adven- tures will keep you on the edge of your seat —WARNER-COLOR, WARNERS. RECOMMENDED FILMS NOW SHOWING TEACHER’S PET (Paramount): Doris Day is teaching college journalism to star pupil Clark Gable, who is really a big-shot newspaper editor in disguise. Gable is a self-made man, and tries to engage teacher Gig Young in a battle of wits to prove to Doris his (Gable’s, of course) natural superiority. What is proved is that this picture is very very funny. Nick Adams and Mamie Van Doren are in it, too. COWBOY (CinemaScope, Columbia): Anna Kash- fi’s in this, as a Mexican girl loved hopelessly by Jack Lemmon. Jack’s just a clerk in a Chicago hotel and Anna’s father doesn’t approve of him. So he goes out and learns how to be tough from cattleman Glenn Ford and Glenn’s hard-driving crew. CHASE A CROOKED SHADOW (Warner Broth- ers): Anne Baxter is an heiress who lives alone in a castle on an island off Spain. Her brother died in an auto crash—but then Richard Todd comes along claiming to be her brother and suggesting that she must be losing her mind as well as her memory. No one is on Anne’s side, but she’s the only one who knows where the diamonds are hidden. SING, BOY, SING! (20th-Fox): Tommy Sands is turned into another Elvis Presley. First he’s a simple home boy singing hymns and playing guitar at re- vival meetings with grandpa John McIntire. Then Edmond O'Brien discovers him, exploits him, and gets him an engagement at the Roxy and a Holly- wood contract. The conflict comes in making a choice between success and Grandpa’s dying words. BEAUTIFUL BUT DANGEROUS (20th-Fox): All kinds of things happen in this. Gina Lollobrigida sings, and very well. Vittorio Gassman provides ro- mance—and a sinister note—as a Russian Prince who discovers Gina. Robert Alda portrays the great maestro who coaches her. And there’s a murder and false fears—before the film comes to its climax. ete ee wet NV but why? Indian chief Luis Alvarez is the real villian, A dole aR ti

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modern screen’s 8 page gossip extra! LOUELLA PARSONS) in hollywood * Parties—for such wonderful reasons IN THIS ISSUE: * Babies—for so many happy people * Romance—for so-much-in-love lovers Ss MIYOSHI UMEKI 4 RUSS Pm : oe TAMBLYN—DIANE VARSI Youth will receive OSCARS see page 15 CAROLYN JONES

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LOUELLA PARSONS in hollywood parsons’ GOOD NEWS The Ball was for sweet charity's sake—and what a ball we had, Jimmy McHugh, Patti Page, Mrs. David Hearst and me! PARTIES of the month THE STARS TURNED OUT for the charming cocktail party given by writer Sara Hamilton, of my staff, for her daughter Sally Oppenheimer—who hasn't visited her home town in nine years. The first person I met when I arrived was Marlon Brando, Sr., the good-looking and very charming father of you-know-who. All I can say is that Marlon, the star, never inherited his social diffidence from his father, who is so cordial and approachable. I told Mr. Brando I had seen his son in The Young Lions and ‘thought he gave one of his greatest per- formances. “He'll be very glad to hear that,” Brando, Sr. said graciously. Martha Hyer and Gene Kelly arrived separately—but left together! This is the sec- ond time I've noticed this. Is more cooking here romantically than meets the eye? Gene told me he was having a ball direct- ing Tunnel of Love at MGM, the first film he’s 5 ever directed that he doesn’t appear in. Among the early arrivals was June Al- lyson in one of the new hip-line tailored suits, her hair shorter than ever. Her devoted Dick Powell was never far from her side. Margaret O’Brien, so youthful and yet so poised, wore a red chiffon sack dress. She has the cute figure for this style, but personal- ly, I still don’t like them. Maggie’s date was Nick Adams, who told me he was leaving the next day to join honeymooners Natalie Wood and Bob Wagner on their yacht in Catalina harbor. One of the prettiest girls present was Dolores Hart, whose blonde, serene beauty reminds me of Grace Kelly. And you should read what pretty Dolores has to say about boys! The story starts on page 24. Ann Sothern, in a red dress with a wide red stole, was talking styles with Don Loper and Ann said, ‘No sack dresses for me, thank you.” And Don replied, ‘And there’s not a one in my new collection!” A BEAUTIFUL COSTUME PARTY —the most beautiful in a long, long time—was the Golden Nugget Ball sponsored by the Jimmy McHugh Charities for the benefit of the Desert Hospital in Palm Springs at the El Mirador Hotel in Palm Springs. Although the motif of the party was West- ern, I've seldom seen more gorgeous costumes —dance hall girls with huge plumes in their hair; stunning cowgirl outfits in every color of the rainbow; Indians; lovely pantaloon dresses, and, well, the entire room was an eyeful of beautiful women beautifully cos- tumed. Although Patti Page has her popular Big Record tv show to keep her very busy, she promised composer McHugh she would fly out to be the Queen of his Golden Nugget Ball—and she did! Patti looked wonderful in her black and white cowgirl outfit and she brought the house down when she sang. The most beaming smile in the crowd was on the face of her proud husband, Charlie O’Curran. These two are really in love. Another singer, Ginny Sims, wore a huge plumed hat and had her dress caught up on one side to show a garter with a rose right above her knee. Sonja Henie was the only person pres- ent not in costume, but when Sonja wears those fantastic diamonds of hers, she doesn’t need any more sparkle! It was a big and glamorous evening that raised much moola for this very fine cause.

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They were wonderful parties. But the most wonder- ful part of all—was the spirit in which they were given. Ginny Simms looks like she’s all set for the chan- toosie role in the dance-hall scene—and Patti Page is dressed for rescuing her fella from Ginny’s clutches! Cobina Wright came in costume, too—but Sonia Henie, escorted by her husband, figured the dia- monds she’s famous for would be ‘costume’ enough. It was such a pleasure meeting Marlon Brando, Sr.! He is so charming! But then, of course—may- be Marlon, Sr. wouldn't shine in front of the cam- eras like his son does! June Allyson and her new hair-do made quite an at- tractive package for hus- band Dick Powell to be veal proud of! And he is!

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LOUELLA PARSONS in hollywood Continued And Kathy Grant—the Groaner’s Missus—isw’t looking sad about the good news she just got! Yes, indeed—the stork is sure going to be busy in Hollywood, come August. Those happy smiles on Mr. and Mrs. Peter Hall—Leslhie Caron, to her fans—are for the stork. They’re so thrilled that he’s paying them a second visit! It’s hard to tell who’s wearing the bigger smile in the Cassi- dy family—Pop-to-be Jack, 07 his pretty wife Shirley Jones. A busy month for the Stork I almost blew up ... and I mean that lit- erally, keeping Kathy Crosby’s secret— for ten days!—that she and Bing are ex- pecting a baby in August. Then I finally re- ceived the Go sign to break the scoop! The strain was more than I could bear be- cause it gets harder and harder to keep any secret in Hollywood, much less one with such big news value: the beloved Groaner and his pretty bride were on the Stork’s list. But the story held for me, and I knew the reporter's greatest delight when I had a clean beat of four hours in newspapers all around the country in telling the world that the Cros- bys are ‘expecting.’ Can you imagine what will happen if Bing and Kathy have a girl? That whole male clan of Crosbys, Bing and his four sons, will spoil her to pieces—and you know it! But Kathy says, and she seems sincere, “Either a boy or a girl will be welcome, just so the child is healthy and happy.” There are many qualities I appreciate in Kathy—her sweetness and poise and intelli- gence—but above all, she never tries to put me off when I ask her a direct question. I had been tipped that Mrs. Bing was pregnant. When I called her she said, “I think, I hope it is true—but just give me a little more time to make sure and I will tell you the truth.” That “‘little more time” extended into ten days —and I mean I was nervous! Before the baby story broke, Kathy had been making news of another sort. She had also been keeping the secret that she has been working as a volunteer nurse two days a week at Queen of Angels Hospital, some- thing she started before her marriage to Bing. Sister Timothy Marie, head of the hospital, said of Kathy, “She is a sympathetic, yet efficient, worker. We are so appreciative of her services to the patients.” And Mrs. Crosby had also stirred up ex- citement by registering at Los Angeles City College for pre-nursing courses just twenty- four hours before I proudly told the world that she is to become a mother. What a girl she is. Bing is very lucky. Leslie Caron was a happy girl when she called to tell me that she and Peter Hall are expecting their second baby in September. The little French dancer had flown to Hollywood to sing one song number and do some extra scenes for Gigi and she could hardly wait to get back to Europe, her husband and their year-old-son Christopher. ‘Naturally we are hoping for a girl,’ she told me, “but we really won't care if we have another little boy.” Marriage and motherhood have worked miracles in Leslie’s personality. Formerly a very shy and retiring girl, she is now viva- cious, gay and talkative. Love really is the greatest beautifier of all. And Shirley Jones and Jack Cassidy also learned they will become parents—for the first time—and they are gleeful about it. The Gregory Pecks are expecting their second baby this summer. Greg sent a cable to me from Mexico, where he is on location with the Bravados company and Veronique is visiting him, The cable read: WE HOPE FOR A GIRL. BUT EXPECT A BOY. Greg has three sons by his marriage to Greta Peck and another little boy born to him and Veronique last year.

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They were mighty clever, Joanne Wood- ward and Paul Newman. So clever—they almost had their “moment of privacy.” Joanne almost got her wish So quietly and secretly did Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman plan their wedding in Las Vegas that Joanne almost got her wish. She said, “All I ask is this one moment of privacy.” The day before the wedding, Joanne and her close friends Mrs. Jay Kanter and Ina Bernstein—Ina was maid of honor—boarded a plane to Las Vegas and checked into El Rancho Vegas Hotel without being recognized. The morning of the wedding, Paul flew in with his best man, Stewart Stern—and he, too, was unrecognized! “This was a switch,” Joanne later laughed. “Here was I, the bride, waiting at the Church —or I should say Beldon Katleman’s bunga- low, where we were married—for the ar- rival of the bridegroom! If Paul’s plane had been delayed, I think I would have died of embarrassment at being even temporarily stood up.” But no such thing happened, and Paul and Joanne, who have been so very much in love for years, got their hearts’ desire and were married with just their close friends present. After the ceremony, of course, the photog- raphers took over. Joanne wore a beige chiffon dress with matching gloves. Paul slipped a big diamond on her finger as well as the platinum wedding band set with diamonds. The day after the ceremony, the happy newlyweds planed off for Europe for a short honeymoon. Then Paul reports for Cat On A Hot Tin Roof with Liz Taylor at MGM. Joanne and Paul met when both were ap- pearing in Picnic on the Broadway stage, but their friendship didn't grow into love until they both landed in Hollywood for screen careers after Paul had parted from his wife. The Oscars One of the biggest thrills to me about the Academy Award Nominations this year is that so many new faces received recognition. Count ‘en—Diane Varsi and Hope Lange (Peyton Place); Russ Tamblyn, in the same picture; Joanne Woodward, a new- comer in the star category for her fine work in Three Faces of Eve; lovely little Japanese actress Miyoshi Umeki in Sayonara and Carolyn Jones in The Bachelor Party. For years, Hollywood has been talking a good game of seeking new talent. But this is the first year Hollywood has proven that it meant what was said. Every ambitious boy and girl in America who one day hopes to become an actor or actress should take heart over these bright, fresh Oscar candidates! I don't mean to give the idea that all you have to do is buy a ticket for Hollywood and apply for work and these opportunities will be open to you. Nothing is farther from the truth. Every one of these successful young people, as youthful as they are, have dramatic train- ing back of them in Tv, summer stock, the New York theatre or dramatic schools. They have worked hard for the fine honor they have achieved. In some cases, there has been genuine heartache in the sacrifices they have made to learn the rudiments of their profes- sion. But the fact remains that the door to Holly- wood is again open to new faces and new talent. And for this—Allah be praised! TCU Ue Open letter to Diane Varsi Take it easy, my young friend—take it easy. When I heard that you had collapsed on the set of Ten North Frederick, from what the doctors termed “emotional fatigue,’ I thought—how young you are to be suffering from something that is perilously close to a nervous breakdown. I know that life and big success have _ tushed in on you in overwhelming waves dur- _ ing this past year. As I write this, you have ' just been nominated for an Academy Award ' —the highest honor your profession can pay | you—for your fine supporting work in Pey- ton Place. And, at the unbelievable age of nineteen, you have also this year ended your second unhappy marriage. And you have a son by your first marriage. Diane, you have packed more living into your short span than many women experience all their lives. My point is this: in both your professional and private life, stop racing your emotions and slow down to a walk. It is fine to be one of the dedicated actresses caring only for your next role, particularly in your case because you feel that love and marriage have been cruel to you. But don’t draw within yourself as you have been doing, staying home night after night studying your scripts or brooding over the failures of your personal life. After all, you are only nineteen—and it’s a gloriously young age no matter what your past experience. Have a little fun, go dancing now and then, buy yourself some of the pretty clothes you can afford, cultivate outside interests. In short, Diane—take it easy.

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There’s a particular book that Maybe Dana Wynter’s been doing too much TV— Liz Taylor says she’s gonna—but Barbara Rush should read. but husband Greg Bautzer should slow her down! I don’t believe it, nor does Mike. Personal opinions Well, here comes Liz Taylor announcing that she’s giving up her career after she makes Cat On A Hot Tin Roof and Don Quixote for Don Mike Todd! I don't believe it. I think it would bore Liz—and Mike—if she turned into just “the little woman” around the house”... . I like Barbara Rush as an actress and a person. But she’s too plump in The Young Lions. Get out that diet book, gal... . On the other hand, I'd like to see lovely Dana Wynter put on some needed pound- age. Guess it all comes under the heading of —you can't win... . Marlon Brando, Sr.—the one-and-only Mar- lon’s dad—is completely charming the peo- ple he’s been meeting at recent cocktail parties. What a nice man, with such gracious man- ners. If Jr. were just more like him socially, what a guy he'd be! Difficult or not, Marlon is just great as the young Nazi soldier in The Young Lions. Some- times I could murder him in cold blood for his conduct off-screen, but there’s no argument— he’s just tops on the screen... . When and if “sex-kitten’’ Brigitte Bardot and that singing ‘‘gasser’ Frank Sinatra —to quote his own favorite adjective—make a movie together, the French honey and Frankie should burn up the screen! And there’s a hot chance that such teaming is on the way now that Brigitte has signed an exclusive contract with Columbia, where Frankie has made his best films. The financial settlement between Esther Williams and Ben Gage may be peaceful after all—which is a relief. Fireworks had first been expected over the large amount Ben was asking from the swim queen. If Frankie Sinatra and Sex-Kitten Brigitte Bardot do get together for that movie he'd like to make with her—well, they'd better keep the studio fire truck on the alert!

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C000 eee I nominate for stardom... . . » Hope Lange, the really beautiful girl who proves herself such a good actress in Peyton Place and The Young Lions. Hope always reminds me of those days, way back, when an actress had to be an outstanding beauty to rate a film career, —I mean gorgeous women like Billie Dove, Katherine MacDonald, Barbara La Marr, Vil- ma Banky and many others. Now girls with piquant faces—and some who are downright plain—can get to the top if they are good performers. But Hope is not only talented, her face is a dream. In private life she is Mrs. Don Murray, no mean actor himself, and Hope says it was inevitable that she marry an actor because she comes of a theatrical family. Her mother, Minetta Buddecke, played in Shakespeare on Broadway before she retired to own and operate the famed Minetta’s Cafe in New York City’s Greenwich Village—hailed by Holiday Magazine for its fine food. As a young girl Hope helped wait on tables in her mother’s place while she was getting her onan training at the Lodge Profes- Hope Lange’s reel life sional School. : : : ; In fact she first met Don, a struggling young is zooming this pretty Miss actor, when she was about fifteen and he to stardom. But her COU aa would drop in for a piece of the delicious real-life role is that of a lemon pie. “We didn’t fall in love then—just Mrs.—to Don Murray—and a liked to talk about fame and fortune. It was mother—to young after Don went abroad, during the war, that we started corresponding and came to know what we meant to each other.” Another, and most illustrious patron of Minetta’s was Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt. “I used to walk Falla for her while she lunched and talked with my mother,’ Hope remembers. At 20th Century-Fox, her contract studio, they have high hopes for Hope—the beauty who can act. Christopher Paton Murray. C0 ATIC eee A brazen Miss The most scandalous belle on the Miami Beaches last month was the six-month-old daughter of Donald O’Connor and Gloria, Miss Alicia O’Connor. She boldly posed for photographers wearing a bikini! What Richard Egan said—and what Pat Hardy said right back—was over- heard. What an original script! When a guy proposes A waiter at Romanoft’s serving Richard Egan and Pat Hardy the night he gave her the diamond engagement ring, told me Pat's amusing remark when Dick slipped the big sparkler on her finger. “Oh,” gasped Pat in surprise, ‘‘you should prepare me, darling. I would have gotten a manicure!’

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LOUELLA PARSONS in hollywood Continued Bing is pleased as punch over what they’re saying about son Gary Crosby. Here’s what one of your fans has to say, Jean Seberg. Nice, isn’t it? THE LETTER BOX: I have received many letters this month expresing regret and disapproval of the sepa- ration of Esther Williams and Ben Gage. As EsTHER MEER, KANSAS Ciry, puts it: “Please think it over long and hard before you bring such heartbreak to yourselves and your chil- dren”.... “The importance of beautiful theme songs to a motion picture cannot be underestimated,” is the wise remark of Mrs. ANNA ADAMS, BROOKLYN, who is only twenty-one years old —and the mother of three children. “Granted that ArRounD THE Wor LD In 80 Days is a fine picture, it wouldn't have enjoyed half the suc- cess it has achieved without that wonderful music of the late Victor Young.” You are so right Mrs. “A’—the sales of movie scores on records also proves your point.... AnDy VANDEVEER, ST. Louis, is absolutely “shocked” over a magazine interview—no, not in MoperN ScrEEN—given by Marlon Bran- do in which he said he spent much time “dodging a personal meeting with James Dean, who was crazy to meet me.” Andy says, ‘What an insult to the late, great Dean.” I think Marlon was as upset about that inter- view as you are. He has since said he was speaking off the record... . OH, HELP! Joan PoLtson writes: “In our health class in school we are having discus- sions on alcohol and I am to give a talk on entertainers and alcohol. Since you are so close to entertainers who drink, I thought you could give me some reasons why they do it and how their drinking affects their work. Would appreciate a reply soon.” Not even for the chuckle your letter handed me, Miss Joan, of FORESTON, MINN... . SuirLeEY Lewis, St. Louis, is an ardent fan of Robert Ivers. “I saw him in Tue DEtr- CATE DELINQUENT and SHoRT Cut To HELL and am having a mild fit over him.” I’m sure No one was more upset than Marlon Brando when thatrecent story came out quoting his opinion of Jimmy Dean. Robert will be pleased to hear about ‘your mild fit, Shirley... . Marjorie, Ft. WortH, TEXAS, saw Bonjour Tristesse and says: “I do not pretend to be a critic, but I found Jean Seberg an unusual- ly promising young actress (many reviewers did not, I know). I hope she does not take the criticism too much to heart and lose faith in her career. If she just keeps on studying and improving herself I think she will one day make them all eat those critical words.” When I interviewed Jean, I found her a lovely and poised girl and I, too, wish her luck in her career. ... From FRANKFURT, GERMANY, ELZA MAYTAG, writes: “Gary Crosby has been stationed here for many months and I thought his country- men would like to know how much respect the son of Bing Crosby has earned. He helps out in all charity affairs and is nice to all people who approach him”... . “I am shocked beyond words at the dia- logue in A FAREWELL To Arms regarding the miracle of birth when Rock Hudson says to Jennifer Jones ‘This is what comes of sleeping together.’ Where, oh, where was the Johnston Office when this picture was given a seal?” protests EVELYN GARRICK, WINSLOW, ARIZONA. ... Davm Lowsxy, BRooxKLyn, opines: *‘David Niven is the most neglected actor in films although he never gives anything but a top performance. Why no interviews with him? Why don’t you mention him more?” David is one of my favorite persons, Mr. J. Perhaps he’s just such a solid citizen and actor and is so happy in his marriage there isn’t too much more to say about him than to agree with you: he’s tops.... That's all for now. See you next month,

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ON CLOUD NINE... WITH ELVIS” @ I know more about Elvis and his girls than all the scandal magazines! By this time, many girls have met Elvis Presley. In almost every town in which he has played one-night stands, there is a girl with stars in her eyes who has waited backstage—breathlessly and pa- tiently—until Elvis could sneak out some side entrance with her, and head for an all-night hamburger stand. Then there was always the hurried smooching while parked behind the cafe .. . and the last long look as Elvis burns off down the highway for the next town—and_ the next girl. They write me all the details of a date \ with him. One wrote recently : . . “You don’t know Elvis until he kisses you, Kay; I mean REALLY kisses you. Not the kind he gives fan club presidents. Pll never forget the night we went back to the dugout at the ball-park and smooched for hours! Oh, you haven’t lived until you’ve dated Elvis!” One of my favorite letters reads: “I dated Elvis in that first second-hand Caddie he had: the pink and black one that burned up, NATALIE WOOD, beautiful Lustre-Creme Girl says: “My shampoo is Lustre-Creme! Nac well. ’'ve dated Elvis in, | 1t leaves my hair so shiny and easy to manage. No wonder Lustre-Creme is Hollywood’s ae way pa Tuatone BF iis GA lke favorite shampoo!”’ Lustre-Creme is used by the world’s most glamorous women— Pilg ; ; 5 he was then. ...I1 keep hoping he'll shouldn't you use it, too? 2 come back here some day... . 4. é Well, I could go on. But don’t get me kK th: C b t fi | h wrong: if Elvis didn’t do these things he Or eC Mos Cau I Uu alr wouldn’t be a normal boy. There are girls in his home town, too, who wait F patiently for the Memphis Flash, as he’s tl ld sometimes called, to breeze into town. mM 1e€ WO! And there are the wistful letters—“J’ve met Elvis several times, and I’m better looking than average ... but Elvis has ) 7 a never dated me. I don’t get it.” Well, AL. out of top movie Stars all this is just to say that I too am one of Elvis’ girls. Not the variety who have smooched with him in a dugout—but | | didn’t say that I wouldn’t trade places UuSe Lustre-Crey } le Shampoo with her! But I’m of the variety who || have worked that Elvis might fulfill a dream for me; that he might prove to my family and friends, who fought me . 3 . in the beginning, that he was worth fight- Winen Natale Woes SEY) TM) SPOS = 29 2 o fe} ia ing for. I believe in Elvis Presley. I be- Lustre-Creme SIRE DDR, SOiaroe toning ie lieve he is all he says he is. If I’m ever | 2 git! whose beautiful hair plays a vital part "|! convinced that he isn’t... ’'d denounce | 1 her glamour-career. Ee || him—just as fast as I’ve publicly de- Your hair can have that Hollywood-lovely never dries . . . '}| fended him. look with Lustre-Creme Shampoo. Under the . it beautifies | Kay Wheeler | spell of its lanolin-blessed lather, your hair President National Elvis Presley Fan Club | Will shine like the stars! Yet it’s SO easy-to- manage—even right after shampooing. Waves Elvis’s in MGM’s Jattnouse Rock and | are smooth—curls springy. is scheduled for Paramount’s Krne You'll see—and he will, too—how much CREOLE and 20th Century-Fox’s ENoucn | |ovelier your hair can look when you change A; ROPE. to Lustre-Creme, the shampoo of the stars!

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| New kind of | Home Permanent from | Procter & Gamble Every end paper contains its own waving ingredients—just the right amount for each curl q { Why didn’t somebody think of this before? A home | permanent with the wave in the end papers instead | of a bottle of lotion. That’s Procter & Gamble’s new PACE. | Guesswork taken out. Because each paper con- tains just the right amount of waving ingredients— | neyer too much, never too little—you get a perfect | permanent automatically. No more waves that take in one place, don't in i Wind curls as usual. Any home permanent | curlers will do. (End papers do the waving.) ) i ae The end papers do the | waving for you Because the end papers them- selves measure out the waving action, your wave will be perfect Squeeze on clear water with PACE’S handy plastic bottle. No messy, strong-smelling lotion. = atl is -] Easiest, fastest way yet to a really A lasting wave—just wind, wet with 7 pure, clear water, and neutralize another. No more stragglers or strays. No more i “first week” frizz. | No messy, strong-smelling lotion. Just wind | hair as usual, wet with water. neutralize. and look! | An eyen. lasting wave that looks like a gift of nature. So now there’s no reason to leave the house for a permanent. Not when it’s next to no fuss at all to get one at home. That’s with PACE —the worry- free way to a perfect wave. How about today? Tee Bue Bee Costs no more than lotion permanents—$2 plu: | Choice of 3 strengths: Regular... Gentle... S) nt the Wo Lotion ye ers per -— yne e Ne waving ingredients 2r@ Mi SRE ORB Zocteré Gambles | | |) no lotion permanen | OP.&C

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a “a pee eroe ye eee ol — SPT ae Soe ae ciel modern screen / may 1958 eps is a simple story. In July, 1958, Perry Como will have been married for twenty-five years. To the same girl. | Year after year, for twenty-five years, he has created a love story that people in show business talk about—and won- der at. And, really, it’s such a simple little story.... And here is how this tale of love | began.... They met at a weenie roast, Perry Como and Roselle. “Everybody knows 7 that by now,” Perry grins. ‘I must have Said it a thousand times. You’d call it a barbecue now. Only we said weenie roast... .” But because this year is his twenty- fifth of marriage to Roselle, he clasps his hands behind his head in the familiar Como gesture, and leans back, and re- members—a little more. He was fifteen that hot, sticky sum- mer, and he was apprenticed to a barber. Days he learned his trade, clipping hair, applying hot (Continued on page 75) PERRY and ROSELLE

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YOU ASKED FOR IT, SO HERE IT IS: by Héloise Nouvelle n many ways this story is a first for MODERN SCREEN. It is, of course, our first story about Brigitte Bardot. It is our first story about an actress who has never appeared in an American- made movie. And it is the first story we have ever printed about a girl as frankly, as un- ashamedly unconventional as ‘The Sex Kitten.’ But in one way, this is a story as old as beauty—as old as the stories we ran in the ’Thirties about Greta Garbo, in the ' ’Forties about Claudette Colbert—and in the ’Fifties about Marilyn Monroe. Or if you like, it is only as old as this year’s stories of Kim Novak. For all these women have lived the same story. All these women, blessed with beauty, have been cursed with the same terror, have awakened in the night crying from the same nightmare: afraid that the world will suddenly discover what the beautiful women have believed all along—that they are not beautiful at all. That is the (Continued on page 81) eto Her husband thought Brigitte but he was never jealous... Jean-Louis Trintignant’s first love scenes with Brigitte were for the camera... Ms i was beautiful, brigitte bardot

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24 Eee wolf whistles and still how to S a STAG Can you have a good time, without being a 7 : bad girl? Can you get handle the wolf? Here’s how the experts do it: ANT to know how to have more dates, how to snag a stag? Recently, we gave you a boy’s-eye view of the popularity bit. Now we've asked four of the most-dated girls in Holly- wood to tell how they do it. They are pretty Dolores Hart, pert Venetia Stevenson, cute Diane Jergens and bubbly Molly Bee. Hach of these girls has a date-line that could keep a set of quadruplets bouncing. We got them to tell, from their own dating experi- ences, what a girl should and shouldn’t do to make beau-catching ~-easier. fo MOLLY BEE

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How to handle a wolf without losing him! DOLORES HART Some girls give a fellow the come-on all evening, then get huffy when he turns wolf at the door. Maintain some dignity all evening—you can do it even while acting all female—and the guy will sort of catch on that you’re not the kind he can get too fresh with. I think a girl cheapens herself by parking in the car. Boys are funny. They do kiss and tell. So be careful whom you kiss! ABOVE Venetia Stevenson may not be VENETIA STEVENSON 3 | hinting to Peter Brown that it’s time You can be aloof—in a nice, warm way—and that will start to to go home: But then again. .. . dampen the fire of an over-torrid Romeo. Boys don’t like to || BELow Diane Jergens tells Dick Sar- make passes when they think they’re not going to be received. gent good-night—but no hurt feelings. I’m not talking about the casual goodnight kiss, which is one 5 eo thing—and quite a pleasant thing! I mean the misunderstand- ing at the end of the evening when a girl says no and the boy continues a too-amorous pitch. It only leaves a girl feeling cheap and confused. A boy wants to feel liked, so why not show him affection by inviting him into your house for some cake and coffee? If you sit at the table and talk and laugh, that can be a friendly end to a date... and a much nicer one than the doorstep hassle! a . DIANE JERGENS The important thing is to try not to act like a deadhead. Put- ting yourself on a pedestal is quite obnoxious. You not only scare away his advances—you’ll scare him away for good. After all, when boy meets girl there’s bound to be an attempt at ro- mancing. Nothing wrong with that. But if you want to avoid certain offensive clinches, then try double-dating. By having others with you, some of the problems that arise from being alone and together fade away. I went out with a man who had a playboy reputation. I didn’t want to miss the fun just be- cause of his reputation, but I did want to miss the trouble. I asked him very sweetly if I could bring another couple, since he was so interesting, and he was flattered enough to agree. We had a wonderful -time, and by having the others around my playboy friend didn’t get out of hand—as he might have if we'd been alone. MOLLY BEE I don’t think a girl has to kiss a boy on the first date if she doesn’t want to. If I like the boy and want to kiss him, I do. If I don’t want to kiss him, I don’t. But I seldom come across the problem of the boy who just won’t behave. I think it’s because I like to keep moving and make the evening gay and active. I like to dance, sing, even go horseback riding at night. That’s one way to get a wolf’s mind off the pursuit of petting. Keep the evening jumping. Sometimes a wolf acts the way he does because there isn’t anything else to do! continued 25

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Diane Jergens and Dick Sargent have a ball on the bowling alley— and, adds Diane, having something to do avoids passes. And Dolores Hart tells you that despite appear- ances Karl Holliman’s not a wolf! You can be good—and popular, too! DOLORES HART Be choosey. If you go with every Tom, Dick and Harry, knowing that the T. D. and H. have reputa- tions for being maulers, you’re letting yourself in for more than you can handle. That doesn’t mean that you have to suspect every man who likes fun of being a wolf, or you’ll miss out on a lot of delightful dates. A man who has a gleam in his eye can be an exciting date too. But I do try to steer clear of the real bad apples. After all, why ask for trouble when its just as easy to go out with a nice fellow! VENETIA STEVENSON Try to have the date revolve around some activity. I think many boys get completely out of hand because there’s nothing else to do. I had loads of fun one night with a boy who took me ice skating. We were both so happy and exhausted that the necking issue ‘never did come up. I think a fellow has more fun being with a girl who’s a good sport on a simple date —than he is with a girl who’s merely a good sport about petting! Remember, a necking session isn’t what gets you that second date—or twentieth date. DIANE JERGENS Love me—love my family. When a man is interested in me, I take him home to meet them all. That way, I know he'll treat me with more respect. I think it makes a charming family picture when the man you’re dating comes in— meets your mother and father, your brothers and sisters if you have any, and even the family eat and dog. MOLLY BEE You’ve got to be true to yourself. Don’t do what you don’t want to do. But try to handle it all gaily, not stuffily. I feel sorry for girls who think they have to drink and pet in order to prove they’re good sports. If you’re at a party where there’s drinking and you don’t want to appear prudish, hold a glass in your hand all night and no one will give you that strange look that makes you feel like an oddball. I don’t drink, but I don’t make a big thing out of it either. And no one tries to pour it down my throat. It really works! seri Zs iss as

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DOLORES HART Plan lots of things in the way of entertainment be- forehand. Don’t expect the guests to make the party or your party might die with a thud. At a party I once gave, I made up little name tags and pinned them on each guest. It was more fun. Lots of times people are afraid to talk to others at a party because they’ve for- gotten their names and they freeze up. These little tags were not only handy, they provided lots of talk and laughs. I think it’s good to promote laughs with silly things at a party. I love charades for instance, because it gives people a good chance for a load of laughs. Another tip, have your mother or father around. Don’t send them off to a movie that night. Some kids resent having an older person around, but I think it’s im- portant. It keeps the party from turning into a brawl. VENETIA STEVENSON Be a relaxed hostess, not a jittery one. Have all your preparations made in advance and have all the decora- tions hung up the night before. And give yourself a good few hours to bathe, rest and dress before your How to make your party swing! guests come! If you’re a relaxed hostess, you'll have the energy to get your party off to a fly- ing start. Enjoy your own party and your guests will, too. And be sure to buzz around and talk to everyone—never go off in a corner with one special person. DIANE JERGENS Why not start a do-it-yourself movement right in your own home? You don’t have to have a big formal buffet; you can either have each person you know bring along one dish, or invite the whole group to come—and ask each person to cook his big specialty while the others stand around ad- miringly. Instead of hating this extra work, those of your friends who are proud of their specialties will love pitching in. And don’t skimp on the food, the records you have in your living room, the number of games you play or anything else. A generous hostess is an appreciated hostess. It isn’t money that counts, either. A little money can spread a long way for you. (Continued on page 54) Dolores and Kart play party games— cause Dolores made sure there were some activities PLANNED to keep the party swinging. Molly Bee figures that dancing is the greatest—even if you can’t get a Tommy Sands—for singing and strumming, that is. (She’s lucky; she could!) turn page for some STAGS to SNAG

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HOW TO SNAG A STAG continued here are some / STAGS to snag

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Don't throw your love aware Remember how you felt, Tommy, when you gave Molly Bee that ring ... the one that was just right for her, because it was two hearts intertwined—and that’s how you felt... . E ARE not in business to run a star’s personal life, or to tell him what to do and what not to do. But we’ve grown to like you, Tommy Sands, like you enough to feel an obligation to be honest with you—even if it hurts. And you may not like what we have to say. We have been disturbed in recent weeks about reports tying you romantically to a score of Hollywood beauties— Cathy Crosby, Connie Stevens, Dolores Hart, Yvonne Lime, Judi Meredith, Barbara Wilson and on and on and on. Now we are certainly not opposed to an unattached young man dating any number of attractive young girls—providing they have fun together, and don’t hurt anyone else in the process. But you, Tommy, are neither unattached nor having fun. Moreover, by your actions you are seriously ~ hurting two people: Molly Bee and yourself. We know, as you do, that you are in love with her—as much° as she is in love with you; that every time you take a girl into your arms and kiss her, you make believe she’s Molly. And Molly knows you do, and goes out with other fellows and pretending not to feel hurt—while holding back her tears whenever she picks up a fan magazine and sees you holding ‘-) f hands with Connie Stevens or taking Dolores Hart for a picnic in Griffith Park or going (Continued on page 71)

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oW A aa June’s kingdom—her kids Pam and Ricky, and the man she loves, Dick Powell. And when she’s not busy rough-housing with her energetic bundles of joy, she looks back and re- members some of-the dreams she used to wish for . . and the funny way dreams have of coming true sometimes when youre not even looking. Modern Screen drops by June Allyson’s house ...and checks up on some rumors! The rumor that there was a new June Allyson running around Hollywood brought us face to face with June—Mrs. Richard Powell, that is—for a question and answer session. June agreed to play a new game with us. It’s called truth without consequences, and it’s played by two people: us, looking for the truth about June Allyson 1958 style ...and a smiling, pert mother of two who happens to be a movie star— Q: Is it true that there’s a new June? A girl who insists on leading her own life? June: Maybe it just shows more now, but I’ve always been June Allyson, girl-individual. Even though Richard is basically the boss, I make my own decisions about most things. I played in The Shrike even though Richard was against it. Q: Do you think you can be a real wife and a real help to your husband without sacrificing your in- dependence? June: At the risk of sticking my neck out I say: absolutely. I lead my own life, but here I am like a hen hovering over my brood. So of course, I think independence and family life can go together. Q: How about the eternally ticklish problem of separate interests? June: I think just about everybody has separate interests. It depends on how you handle the prob- lem. I believe in not forcing your interests on your loving spouse. And I think, by now, Richard agrees with me. We tried to force our pet projects on each other once. Wow! Like that time I begged Richard to go skiing with me, against his better judgment. P.S.—he broke his shoulder. And one time, he took me on the boat he’d bought. Naturally I got terribly sick. P.S.—we sold the boat. Q: Is there a new interest in your life? June: Is there ever! I love to cook now. I’d rather cook than anything. When I’m cooking, I’m the queen of Mandeville Canyon. Why, one night I gave a party for a friend . . . and sixty-two people came! And I barbecued sixty-two steaks—myself. Well, ever since then, I’ve (Continueé on page 78)

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of Hollywood’s most sensational Part | of the complete life story new star

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18 before | was We were 17 and secretly married but

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= T WAS cold, freezing cold, that Monday night in Philadelphia as Jim~Ercolani reached for his key and opened the door to his parents’ small apartment. It was nearly midnight and Jim thought the folks might still be up, watching television or some- thing. But when he opened the door, he saw that the apartment was dark and he knew they were in bed already and he figured it was best this way. Because when he told them the two things he had to tell them this night they would be groggy and, he thought, sometimes it helps for your parents to be groggy when you’ve got to tell them things. He walked through the living room, past his own room and into the folks’ bedroom. He stood there for a moment, staring at the dim outline of a saint’s picture his mother always kept on her dresser, praying quickly that the second bit of news he had to tell them would make them as happy as the first. Then he snapped on a lamp, walked over to the bed and gently (Continued on page 58) realize that a man can have a ball with a tennis racquet, iceeab Alea : a ae eae oe a { i i ie Tn Sed Mas ~*~ oe oe MPdbde 2 aaa _ A wife, a child. Two people to love, and to protect. These are the things that made Jimmy Darren grow up—grow up to but watering the lawn is part of living, too .. . and so is learn- | ing how to tell when a young fellow’s diaper needs changing!

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A rare and charming story... photos by TONY script by JANET soapsuds by KELLY LEE

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Editor’s Note: This story is about three people and an hour in their lives. It’s a little story, and we guarantee it will never go down in the an- nals of Hollywood history. But it’s a rare and charming story and it’s our guess yow ll enjoy seeing it and hearing it. Our star is a nineteen-month-old package of soap-suds and smiles named Kelly Lee. Our proud photographer is Kelly's daddy, Tony Curtis. Our narrator is Kelly’s mommy, Janet Leigh and this is how Janet tells it.... t was a Friday, I remember. Tony and I had been working hard all week on The Perfect Furlough at U-I and I was lucky enough to get off early this day. So at four o'clock I stuck my tongue out at my husband —who’d have to stay another hour, at least— and drove home. ~ As usual, there was Kelly at the top of the stairs, pounding on her gate, waiting to greet me, smiling away, not the old baby-gas-smile of a few months ago anymore, but a real honest-to-goodness (Continued on page 74)

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AN OPEN LETTER TO MARILYN MONROE: Dear Marilyn, Remember when you said, "If I had a child, a little girl, I would bring her up to have all the things I never had. I don't mean ma- terial things like clothes and money. They're nice, too—but—I mean love. People caring about her. People smiling when she came in, wanting to make her happy. I'd bring her up not to be afraid. It's not what a child can do for you—it's what you can do for it that makes you happy. I guess I'd rather have a baby and be able to do that for her than anything else in the world." Do you remember those words, Marilyn? They're your words—spoken by you almost five years ago. You weren't even married then. You had just burst into fame by trading in your good mind and your decent soul for a sexy reputation and a lot of publicity. But even then—those were your words. You wanted a baby. And now you are a married woman. You have (Continued on page 83) 4]

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‘In all our years in Hollywood, mss the best “It was for another party I’d put on this fancy shirt. But it gave my son, David, an idea... .”

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Se | HERE COMES THE BRIDE DEBRA PAGET with DAVID STREET HE beautiful, red-haired girl, radiant in a white wedding gown and a tulle froth of a bridal cap, stood next to the handsome young man and repeated softly: “I do.” Debra Paget had decided only three days earlier to marry David Street. And she had decided to marry him on their first date! Up until this time, Debra was known all | over Hollywood as dateless Debbie and the | girl who had never been kissed. From child- |, hood, she had made up her mind that she | would not date the field, but that the moment she met the right man she would know it—and S| marry him. : Was Debra wise or foolish in carrying out ‘| such a plan? | All over the country teen age girls are facing the same question, the same problem: shall I go out with a lot of boys, or shall I stay home most nights waiting for that glorious moment when the right boy walks into my life? Is it good for a girl to go through her teen years unkissed, not dating the field—can she possibly know her own mind when it comes to marriage? _ Debra says yes. (Continued on page 72) 2 ee |! | “I didn’t care that David had ’ | been married four times, | e I said yes J + on our first date!”

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THE BRIDE PAT HARDY w HERE COMES ith RICHARD EGAN

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— story more than my scoop on the coming marriage of Richard Egan and Patricia Hardy. Both young, successful, Irish, of the same reli- gious faith—they seem born for each other. Neither has been married before. What a relief it was to write a story in which I didn’t have to end with “The bridegroom-to-be was previously married to So-and-So, So-and-So and So-and-So,” or, “The bride-to-be has three chil- dren by three former marriages—but is sure she has found the love of her life in No. 4!” Richard and Pat are just two wonderful young people in love. She told me she is giving up her own career because ‘“Dick’s is so much _ More important and the most important thing in my life is making him happy. From the day of our marriage I’]l be just Mrs. Richard Egan, housewife. And that will be my happiest role.” by Louella Parsons “In my opinion, they were -— born for each other ae never enjoyed writing an engagement [77 They have known each other about two and a half years and Pat tells me it was not a case of love at first sight. “I think that’s for story- books, anyway,” she said. “But as I grew to know Dick, and he to know me, we knew we were falling more and more in love. I thoroughly believe in long engagements—or perhaps I should say, long friendships before marriage.” Although they dated over two years, Pat didn’t receive her engagement ring until a few weeks ago. On one of their regular nights to dine out, Dick took her to dinner at Romanoff’s. Looking at the menu, Pat mused, “I wonder what I'll have?” Dick said, “How about this?” and slipped the sparkler, a five-and-a-half carat diamond, on the right finger. All I can add is “much health and happiness” to Pat and Dick in a marriage that seems so RIGHT .. . that seems so ‘made in heaven.’ END

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AQ HERE COMES THE BRIDE JOANNE WOODWARD with PAUL NEWMAN “Our love was too strong to be denied moment...” Joanne and Paw relax after a leisurely honeymoon supper in a London hotel room... .

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HIS story is for every woman who has ever been tempted to take her love regardless of right or wrong, thinking that she can find happiness that way. If Joanne Woodward had yielded to that kind of temptation, today she and Paul Newman might be sick at heart at what they had done. But they never trampled on conventions. Today they can respect themselves. When Joanne found herself, trembling with un- happiness because she loved a man she didn’t want to love, she drew back from the dangerous whirlpool. She schooled her heart and tried to teach it to beat less violently at the sight of the man she loved. And because she was fine and decent, and Paul was too, they accomplished the beautiful—they saved them- selves from the tawdriness that might have ruined their love, and built instead deep roots of honor. They even tried to deceive themselves. They swore that they wouldn’t fall in love. They said to them- selves that they would never be anything but friends to each other. This was the way it had to be. And this was the way it was. Except they did love each other. ... Why did they fall in love? To understand that you have to understand the kind of people they are.... For Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman the most difficult acting they ever had to do came during the first weeks of this past January. They were playing liars, two roles which they had imposed upon themselves. They were saying no—vehemently, violently, laughingly, angrily—to the reporters and photographers and producers and friends who every hour of (Continued on page 79)

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oe Wi it ee HORNE It started like every other date for Geoffrey Horne and Nancy Berg... “This was no night for restaurants. I wanted to be alone with my girl. We picked up wine and bread and I teased Nancy about her spaghetti-a-la-Berg.” But it turned out to be THE NIGHT A ccording to Nancy Berg’s diary, she and Geoffrey Horne had exactly 219 dates together since “Nancy lit the candles to make things fes- tive—but neither of us was very hungry.” “We toasted marshmallows by the fire and laughed and tried not to think about Saturday.” WO MEISE ESE OR TORE AS UPSE STIRS WIRE FRO neither would so much as have a cup of coffee with anyone else. And February 3 started out to be like any other date} The only difference was that within a few days Geoff was to go abroad for five months of work on The Tempest. Each moment now was precious. Both conieibenen too well the horrible three weeks they had lived through—alone—when Geoff was sent to France for Bonjour Tristesse...and the exquisite joy when they were finally reunited. And the promise (Continued on neat page) eee i MaRS Wise PO sea SN ee z BRIDE} THAT GEOFFREY) PROPOSED they had met on June 13, 1957, at the Actors’ Studio day they started going steady. For eight months | warin iid ink eee A Tee Ss aa i en ate ta i | t f | |

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Nancy and Geoffrey coxtinued We had the rest of our lives before us... but we just couldn’t say good night — “I took Nancy into my arms—and when she kissed me, I knew that was all the answer I needed.” “We toasted our love, Nancy and I, with a glass of wine. And we drank to our wedding’ day, and to the thousands of other days that would follow.” “Nancy couldn’t wait any longer. ‘Let’s look at the travel folders,’ she begged. And we spent hours poring over picture books— previewing our honey- moon trip. Two ‘ sleepy people... by dawn’s early light.” i to one another never to be separated again... . Then, just a few weeks after he came back, Geoff was offered the romantic lead in The Tempest. His first—almost automatic—impulse was to say no, even though he knew the role was a great one. Nancy wouldn’t hear of that. “Honey, I almost died when you went away the last time. But you can’t turn this down,” she argued. “Maybe we can work something out, maybe I can get some modeling jobs in Rome. But I won’t be the cause of your refusing this part. | Acting means too much to you, Geoffrey, I realize

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the night geoffrey proposed that. And you know, darling, I'd never for- give myself: And it will be months before you will have to leave.” Then suddenly the months had become weeks. Now sailing time was just a few days away. On February 3rd, Geoff had contracts to sign, clothes to buy, agents to see. Nancy had classes at The Studio, a four-hour modeling job. But they had arranged to meet at six that evening, have dinner and take in a show. They met at six—but neither wanted to dine out, neither wanted to spend precious time at a show. They had a strange feeling about this evening; a feeling they couldn’t put into words. Instead of going out, they decided to drop into a local grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner. Nancy whip- ped up Geoff’s favorite spaghetti dish— and they had dinner by candlelight. They played records, they talked, they danced, they were lost in one another. And all the while they never once said anything about five days from now when Geoff would be gone. If, that morning, you had mentioned the word marriage to them, they would have laughed. Marriage somehow wasn’t in- cluded in their dream of things. Not /now...not yet. In all the months that they had been seeing each other they had never spoken about it. If it was in their thoughts about the future, it was in their silent thoughts. For both Nancy and Geoff were prac- tical people. First things first Nancy, though making thousands of dol- lars as a model, wanted desperately to become a fine actress. Most of her energy went toward that goal. Maybe once she made it she could think about becoming a wife. First she had to prove herself. Geoffrey, after years of hard work, was coming into his own as an actor. Finan- next month! the rock hudson story —and louella tells it! you'll meet debbie and eddie's new baby! it's a boy! and learn all there is to know about that hot platterer— johnny mathis it's all in the june modern screen on sale may 6 cially, however, it was too soon for him to take on the responsibility of giving a wife the things he felt a wife of his should have. A girl like Nancy should have. And all around him were advisors— warning him that the career that started so promisingly could fall apart if he mar- ried too soon. That’s how things stood. Then, at midnight, everything changed. “Darling, come with me,” Geoff begged. “Oh, darling, darling,’ Nancy whispered. “IT want to. I want to so much. But I can’t. It wouldn’t be good for you... for mes lecanwtenns Geoff cupped her face tenderly in his hands. “Oh you darling little fool. Don’t you know I’m asking you to marry me.” And when she kissed him, it was all the answer he needed. The rest of the hours flew by in min- utes. There was so much to talk about, a lifetime to plan. They sat dreaming in front of the dying fire until they realized that dawn had stolen up on them. Then Geoff said good-bye. And later that day he and Nancy applied for their marriage license. On Friday, February 7, at 3 p.m., they drove downtown to the Supreme Court building and were married. In attendance were Geoff’s agents and close friends Dick Clayton and Ray Powers. There was no reception. Just champagne in the bride’s apartment. “Why do I love you?” Geoff teased as he toasted Mrs. Horne for the first time. “Because I’m crazy.” “Why do I love you?” Nancy smiled back. «“Because you are marvelous, in- telligent, brave, courageous, sympathetic, charming, a good cook and you help with the dishes.” And everyone who saw them on the Christopher Columbo when they sailed for a honeymoon in Rome the following noon knew one thing—love each other they did, and the reasons were unimportant. END You can see Geoffrey now in THE BripcE On THE RivER Kwatr and Bongour TRISTESSE for Columbia. And soon he'll appear in Paramount's THE TEMPEST. UR Smooth a tiny pat of KURLENE eye ¢ream on your lashes to reveal your natural beauty. No artificial _ color! Curl lasts longer — eyes sparkle silkier.

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HOW TO SNAG A STAG (Continued from page 27) Molly Bee I love to give parties—and I give plenty of them. At my parties the accent’s on singing and dancing. Sometimes Tommy Sands gets up and sings, but you needn’t have a Tommy Sands around for that. We do plenty of horsing around at the piano and you can, too. Since I know so many talented kids, I usually have a built-in little orchestra made up of my guests. But be sure to have plenty of dance music provided by your own records. About food, I find it good to have one main dish—like spaghetti or turkey. Keep the food simple, and have plenty of it. Have some amusing games—like What's My Line with funny prizes planned. If you have drums in the closet or a uke, take ’em out and make noise. HOW TO MAKE A HIT AT A DANCE Dolores Hart Learn to dance well! All things being equal, the better you dance the bigger the hit youll be. Look happy when you’re danc- ing, even if your partner’s clomping on your feet or whistling in your ear. Act as though you’re having a wonderful time. The stag line makes quick tracks to the girl who looks as though she’d be fun to dance with, and by-passes the girl with the bored expresion. A dance may be a good place to make a conquest, too. But remember, even if you meet the dreami- est boy there, go home with the guy who brought you. Venetia Stevenson Gay little dabs of talk are fine while you dance, but incessant chatter could easily make your partner steer clear of you. He wants to dance, not carry on a conver- 54 sational binge. I’ve seen girls at dances Poeseenos” « * * * s e't#e?et eee ee 8 e 2 é S 2 e@ een eno € * * * * * eG $e: 6 60 (a0 8.287 e: cig tlt ee 2 ee ee o* Se eg Be eae ee be dd a | *, es *p PRR ERC O46 8 6 eA eee Fee e ese ese aen ae oe oiwreryee sees oe eect tester ee Be wns ote 88 Se 8 Oe © ae * esaeetseseas eo ees 7s * er ~~. a e eee *ten 0 @ ue er * #5 eet tees ee ee 2 ¢eoes « a8 28 4 . ° 4-5 2 o it 6 tee, ee oe a 8 @ 6 “4 Fe © 44 5 4, tC se ss *5 ¢ * oe % eo drive their partners crazy by chattering so incessantly that the dance turned into a sort of rocking session—the boy forced to rock back and forth in the middle of the floor while she carried on a forced jabber. Diane Jergens Give yourself a break by wearing the type of clothes that set you off best while dancing. I like sheaths, but not on a dance floor. They make you stick out when dancing. A dress which swirls as you move can’t be beat for sheer glamor. Be sure your gown doesn’t need constant hitching at the shoulder straps or tugging at the skirt. Wear flimsy slippers, but they should be comfortable, too. I once went to a school dance wearing four-inch heels, and I teetered all night. Molly Bee If you want him to hold you as though he never wants to let you go, part your hair with perfume so that he gets the most delightful reaction while you're dancing. And who says there’s a law that only the boy has to say thanks for the dance? It’s absolutely charming when a girl smiles and says, “I just loved dancing with you. You’re a wonderful dancer, you know.” A boy digs compliments like those. If you happen to be at a dance where you’re more or less on your own, resist the temptation to find haven with a cluster of girls. Few boys are going to have the courage to plow their way through a crowd of females to seek out one girl at a dance. Get in with a mixed group. And smile. Often a smile will do more to get a boy to ask you for a dance than anything else. Boys get scared, too. If they see a friendly, smiling girl they’re more apt to move in her direction. DO I NEED GIRL FRIENDS? Dolores Hart Yes—but don’t pour out your soul to all of them. Although I have many friends, Diane and her best girl friend Joan Dupuis talk over the dance thoroughly, what to wear and what to say, days before it occurs. And when the big moment finally comes, is Diane’s date, Dick Sargent enchanted? He sure is! I can think of only two girls I’m willing ~ to confide in. Girls are easily aroused to being catty without realizing it. I think | it’s wonderful to have girl friends—they | ring you in on parties and double dates— | but be intimate with only a few. And don’t || make the mistake of getting into gossipy cliques. Venetia Stevenson I’ve never had girl friends, and I’m sorry that I never did develop a circle of them. | All of my friends have been male—which © is a very pleasant situation, I must admit. | But I also miss having some close girl friends with whom I can talk over certain problems. Having girl friends is a short | cut to popularity, too: think of all the | social doin’s they can get you in on. Diane Jergens Girl friends can add fun to your life. My best friend, Joan Dupuis, and I spend | a great deal of time together laughing it- up, listening to records and talking over a lot of girl problems, such as clothes and boys. Girl friends are an integral part of | your life in growing-up. And I find mine a whole lot of fun. Molly Bee Boys like a girl who is liked by other girls. They figure that if other girls like you, you can’t be too catty or unkind. | Another virtue of girl friends is that through them you can often meet more boys. However, there’s one thing you have to be careful about. Don’t make it a habit to swoop down the street with three or four other girls. That makes it look like you're an army—and that’s frightening to! any man. But are girl friends really important to have? Sure they’re important—but steer clear |}, of being too closely identified with one 4 group of girls to the point where you

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might lose your own identity. Going out with girl friends is ‘loads of fun, and an important part of growing up, but avoid being just part of a mob. YOU, TOO, CAN TALK UP A STORM Dolores Hart The most obvious way to get started is to talk about him. It’s very flattering, too. Talk about his car, even if it’s a beat-up model, or about the college he’s planning | to go to. In fact, if he’s a new date, it’s a good idea to get a rundown on his interests in advance so that you can pin- | point your talk along those lines. I once | went out on a blind date with an actor, and I got_his studio biography and briefed || myself on it! I guess it was a tricky thing | to do, but it certainly worked. Our gab- fest rolled all night! | Venetia Stevenson Because I’m a shy person, this has always | been my biggest problem. I used to strain to force conversation and ended up sound- ing slightly hysterical. This makes it even harder on a boy. Then one evening I de- cided to forget myself and relax. This made the boy more relaxed and he spoke more easily. So did I. And I wasn’t frantic when there was a lull. I let things take their course, and soon we picked up the con- versation again. The harmful thing is to worry. When you can’t think of small talk, try big talk. | Diane Jergens I’ve never had the trouble of not knowing what to say. ’'m a born chatterbox. I don’t even think about it, which is a great help. But I find that when there are those deadly lulls and there isn’t a blessed thing to say, | the best prompter is something like, “Do | you know Jane Whoziz from that other school?” If he does, we start talking. If he doesn’t, he usually says, “No, but I know so-and-so. Do you?” And off we go. You can use that gimmick for a movie or even a favorite record. Molly Bee Just start talking, like jumping off a diving board. Plunge in. Talk—better talk than sit like a bump on a log. No one’s expecting you to be a brilliant conversa- tionalist, so don’t push yourself. Start talk- ing about little, inconsequential things. You’d be surprised how they build into lively conversations. For instance, I once told my date how I’d become lost driving over a new mountain pass to Hollywood. He told me how he’d lost his way hunting. And so on. DATING DO’S AND DONT’S Dolores Hart Do be appreciative of any gesture he makes, no matter how trivial it may seem. Even if a boy makes a sloppy at- tempt to be a gallant, he likes to have it appreciated. If he sends you a corsage that’s the wrong color, wear it anyway. Better to have it clash than hurt his feelings. Do notice the nice things about him— the fact that he’s nicely dressed, even if his car is washed. A girl loves to be told that she looks lovely, but it may never occur to her to notice out loud that he’s wearing a smart tie! Dowt be late. Nothing gives a boy the jim-jams more than staring at the ceiling waiting for a girl when he’s all geared to go. Venetia Stevenson Do dress simply. Men squirm when they’re with a girl who’s overdressed. Don’t make great demands on him. Give him a chance to be a gentleman, but don’t glare if he forgets to open the car door for you. Do it yourself. Don’t ask him to carry your comb, lip- stick and powderbase in his pocket. Carry a purse large enough to keep all your personal things, so that his own pockets don’t bulge and he feels like a valet. Do look at the guy’s mouth when he’s talking to you. When you do, he begins to think you find him fascinating and he'll find you fascinating in turn. Diane Jergens Do double-date. It’s much easier to keep things on a nice friendly keel when an- other couple is with you. Don’t constantly make with the make-up in front of your guy. It’s annoying to him to watch you go through such gyrations. Besides, under those circumstances, where’s the illusion? Molly Bee Do relax and enjoy every minute of your date. It will make him enjoy you all the more. Don’t strive too hard to be witty. You may impress yourself, but you probably won't impress him. Many a girl has opened her mouth and lost her guy just by talk- ing too smart-alecky. Wisecracks are funny in a movie or in a Tv show but boys don’t appreciate them in the long run. When you wisecrack, they think you're either being catty or sarcastic. Don’t have a one-track mind and heart. Be versatile. Learn to do a variety of things. The more sports you know, the more things you can do, the more fun you can have. And the more dates! Remember, with one boy you can swim; with another you can bowl and so on—for dozens of fun-filled evenings. END To the Woman Over 40 Who Sincerely Wishes to Recapture Youthful Loveliness Take From 20-30 Years From your Face and Neck PERMANENTLY! ©0000 Internationally Famous Beauty Consultant Offers New Faces for Old WITHOUT SURGERY! Photos show Galenti’s Miraculous Transformation without surgery. Address all correspondence Personal: eyes oy 7157 SUNSET BLVD. © HOLLYWOOD 46, CALIFORNIA

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@ Steve Cochran has always been fond of animals. Canyon has always had its assortment of livestock, varying from time to time in type and number. Currently there’s Steve’s huge German shepherd dog, Shane, who’s so big he has some difficulty squeezing into Steve’s sports car when the two of them go off to call on friends. Then there’s a capuchin monkey, Aristophanes, who’s inclined to be a bit jealous of some of Steve’s girl friends, and has been known to give them a more-than- friendly nip in warning to steer clear of the master. But the stoutest heart in the whole collection belongs to Terrible Touhy, a cat who strayed in one evening, decided he liked the looks of the place, and stayed. Terrible Touhy got his name from his attitude toward dogs—he has yet to meet up with a dog who can ruffle his fur. In fact, the very day he decided to adopt Steve, Terrible Touhy chased a neighbor’s dog, cowering, into a corner, and kept him there until Steve made a rescue. It was then that Steve decided this cat operated like a big-time gangster— and gave him his name. And a day was to come when Steve was to have more than a little respect for this particular little gangster. One evening a short time ago, Steve went out for a stroll on his hillside grounds, trailed by the ever-shadowing Terrible Touhy. Steve heard a slight movement in the ivy groundcover adjoining the path, and was on his way into the brush to investigate, but Ferrible Touhy bounded ahead of him. The brave little animal pounced into the ivy. Then the next thing Steve heard sounds of a struggle. Terrible Touhy let out a loud, outraged yowl and came flying out like he’d been struck by lightning. Steve couldn’t see any mark on him, his fur was so long. But when he looked back at that brush, he saw something slither. Then it was out in the open and Steve saw what it was—a rattlesnake, and it was a good six feet long. A real mean-looking son-of-a-gun. It was all poised, looking like it wanted a good bite out of Steve, too. Steve lost no time backing away. Then he pulled his revolver from his pocket and blasted the rattler. Steve fired several times before the rattler stopped moving and he could be sure it was dead. Then he picked up Terrible Touhy and ran back to the house. He called his secretary, who rushed the cat to a nearby animal hospital. The cat recovered, and was brought home a few days later. Steve held the lion- hearted little animal on his lap and told him, “Touhy, that was a real whopper of a rattler.” This news carried no weight whatsoever with Terrible Touhy. As soon as he could squirm away from Steve, he charged outside, bent on settling the score with any other snake in the grass that might be hanging around. Steve, however, had other ideas. “Terrible Touhy may have eight more lives left. but his quick action saved the only life ’ve got, and I’m not about to let him go out there 56 risking the other eight.” The Cochran home in Coldwater . turned to the couple and, all excited, said the best party (Continued from page 43) And he ex- plained, “It’s kind of a Hawaiian party.” “They should have made it a cowboy party,” was David’s thought on that sub- ject. Alan had worked that day, worked hard, and he was tired and in his book they should have made it no party at all. And Alan will be the first to tell you | that he’s not crazy about parties, period; | that he still carries some of his boyhood | shyness to them and, as he says, “I still find it hard to walk into a room full of strange people and be very comfortable.” David, after shaking his head and de- ciding it was really too bad that it wasn’t going to be a cowboy party, said, “Dad, what do they do at a Hawaiian party, anyway?” | Alan thought for a moment. “Well,” he) | said, “I guess they serve Hawaiian food | and drinks. And they decorate the place as if it were Waikiki Beach or somewhere like that. And they give out leis....” “What's that?” David asked. Alan explained. “Gee,” David said, impressed. He’d never heard of a lasso pinned with flowers and thrown around the neck. At that point, Sue came in and said to Alan that they’d better get going. “You look pretty, Mommy,” David said. ,| “That’s what I wanted you to say,’ Sue '} said, laughing. June Allyson tells what happened on the moonlit night in "45 when Dick Powell looked into her tear- swept eyes and said, “I hope you'll marry me. | love you, June.” “My reply,'' says June, “would have staggered a lesser man... . Years before, in New York, | had dated a singer named Tommy Mit- chell. And this night when Richard told me he loved me, | looked up into his eyes and murmured, ‘I love you, too, Tommy.’ We survived it.” Paul Sann in the New York Post Downstairs a few minutes later, David stood with Hannah, the maid, and her husband, Jerry, the houseman, as Alan and Sue got ready to leave. “Now you be a good boy and eat a good supper,” Alan said to David. “And then,” said Sue, “you can watch television with Hannah and Jerry.” “Yes,” David answered. “Yes.” Nobody seemed to notice at the moment that his ' gaze seemed to be very far away, that || the little boy was thinking something, | planning something. Except maybe Alan should have realized something was a-foot, ! having been thinking just a bit back that } you never could tell what that young fel- || low might think up. t Alan and Sue kissed David good-bye ’ and—it was really getting late now—they | left. { David, Hannah and Jerry stood on the || steps waving good-bye until the Ladds’! car was out of sight. Then, suddenly, Dae “Gee, I just had an idea.” He spluttered || out the details of his idea. “But David...” Hannah said, shaking/ her head. y “Now, David...” Jerry said, shaking’ his finger. } “Yes,” David said, definitely. “It’s my ¥ idea and I want to do it and wow!” The} last word came out like a joyous Indian || yelp and Hannah and Jerry couldn’t help \j looking at each other and looking just all little bit upset. It was about 7 o'clock that night chen Alan and Sue realized that the party= "|

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| thing. | Sue walked out to the patio. givers from New York weren’t supplying their guests with any dinner. The party had been some fun at the beginning, but it was getting too crowded now and too noisy and it was beginning to drag. And Alan and Sue and a few good friends they’d run into were getting decidedly on | the hungry side. “Why don’t we leave now and grab a bite at a restaurant?” one of the friends suggested. Alan, Sue and the others agreed. They all said good night and thanked their hosts and got into their cars. Just before they started for the restaurant Sue snapped her fingers. “Alan and I are going to stop at the house for a few minutes,’ she | called out to the others, piling into their | OWN cars. “TJ just remembered. I have to tell my daughter, Carol Lee, about something we have to do tomorrow morn- | ing. We'll join you all a little later.” The Ladds weren’t worried about any- David, Hannah and Jerry were probably watching tv, they figured, and they didn’t want to bother any of them. So Alan got out his key and opened the door. Inside, the house seemed pretty quiet—no sound of tv, of Wyatt Earp | shooting it out with any bad guys, or any- thing. | The case of the missing roses “TJ wonder where they are?” Sue said, looking into the living room. And then | she just happened to notice that a large batch of roses she’d arranged that after- noon was missing from a vase on one of the end-tables. Alan, by this time, was standing at a foyer window which over- looked the pool and patio. “Sue,” he | whispered, making a come-over-here sign | with his finger. Sue rushed over to where Alan stood. - And then she saw them—David and Han- nah and Jerry. Hannah and Jerry were seated around a large white tablecloth on the lawn by the pool. Hannah was wear- ing her Sunday best and Jerry was wear- ing an orange-and-yellow sportshirt the Ladds had seen him wear once on his day off. Around their necks they wore a gar- land of loosely-pinned flowers — roses. They both looked very uncomfortable and a far cry from the smiling David who was approaching them, very slowly, carrying a tremendous platter of what looked like fruit and something white and steaming. The Ladds watched, quietly, as David went over, as he turned down Jerry and Hannah’s offer to help him with the giant platter, as he laid the platter down. Han- nah had just closed her eyes as if in prayer. They watched as David stood there for a minute deciding whether or not to sit down himself, and then sud- | denly shook his head—he’d obviously for- gotten something—and rushed back towards the kitchen. When he was out of sight, Alan and Before they could say anything, Hannah saw them, jumped up and said: “Oh, Mr. Ladd! Mrs. , Ladd! David is giving us a party. We told him no, but he said yes—and when he Says yes, he means it.” All by himself “That boy,” she said, “that wonderful boy. Do you know what he did? When you left for the party, he turned to me and Jerry and he said, ‘You know, you two never go to parties or anything and now I want to give you a party. It’s go- ing to be a Hawaiian party, like the one Mommy and Daddy just went to.’ We told him: ‘Oh, no you don’t, David. You don’t have to go giving us any parties.’ And he said to us, ‘Oh, yes I do!’ Well, he makes me and Jerry go change our clothes and while we’re changing them he’s down in the kitchen making his mysterious meal, If your hair was born to be blonde— and isn’t—or if you’re a brownette with blonde ambitions, Light and Bright by Richard Hudnut is for you. It’s a home hair-lightener de- signed to bring out all the hidden gold in your hair...make you as blonde as you were born to be. Light and Bright is so simple and easy to use; simpler, in fact, than setting your hair. No messy mixing. No complicated testing. No worri- some timing. And Light and Bright gives you genuine “color control”! Light and Bright works so gently, so gradually, you don’t have to worry about getting too blonde too fast. Each time you use Light and Bright your hair gets a little lighter, Now-—so easy to be a blonde again! Actually simpler than setting your hair! a little brighter. When you reach just the color that’s right, you stop. Light and Bright contains no am- monia. It’s formulated with a special built-in conditioner. Wonderful, the way Light and Bright makes you a true, natural-looking blonde again ... with lovely shining-soft hair! And once this gentle home brightener has brought to light your real blondeness that mousey look is gone for keeps. Your new golden look won’t wash out, won’t fade. Guaranteed by Good Housekeeping. Get a bottle today—be a blonde beauty tomorrow. Only $1.50 plus tax for Light and ouTU Bright at cosmetic (6.01mi counters, “ > CUAS apvenristo WE a Hawaiian meal he said. Of course I was worried about him being in the kitch- en all alone like that. And so I changed real fast and then I stood by the door peeking in. You should have seen him. I guess rice is Hawaiian, because that’s what David made. He got out two boxes from the cupboard and he read the direc- tions like he was going to have a test in school tomorrow on them, so careful, and then he got out the pot and filled it with water and...and he made all this rice. And while it was cooking he was running all around the place, setting the tablecloth out here, getting some string and that bunch of roses we had in the living room and making these beautiful things we got around our necks, and getting fruit from the icebox so he could put them with the rice and make this a real Hawaiian party, like he said. And when he was all through arranging everything, you know what he did? He called out for me and Jerry to go outside the front door for a few min- utes, then to ring the bell. We did that— and, do you know, in the time it took us to ring the bell he’d run to his room and put on his new jacket, his nice jacket, and we could hear him come running to the door and then stop and then, slowly, he opened the door and give us a smile from here to New York and back and he said, ‘Hello, Hannah .. . hello, Jerry . .. I would like to welcome you to your party!” Alan and Sue stood motionless for a moment. Then they looked at each other and smiled and Alan took Sue’s hand and held it, very tight, very proudly. David rushed out with salt and pepper shakers, which he’d forgotten. “Hi Mommy. Hi, Daddy,” he said. “Do you see the party we’re having?” Sue could only nod. Alan stepped closer to the tablecloth and studied it admiringly. “Very nice, son,” he said. “Very nice.” “Thank you, Dad,” David said. He be- gan to salt and pepper the rice now, using giant quantities of both but being very careful not to get any of the stuff on the pineapple and the bananas and peaches which sat smack in the middle of the rice. “It’s the first party I ever gave, but I think it’s going to be a nice one.” Alan and Sue had a quiet consultation. “David,” he said, “your Mother and I were just wondering if...if you had enough here for us to join your party.” The boy looked up. He grinned. “Gee, Daddy,” he said, “I was going to ask you, but I thought you’d been to one party al- ready and that maybe you wouldn’t want to have to go to another one.” “Your Mother and I,” Alan said, “would like very much to come to this party. She’s inside now, calling some people we were going to meet later on and telling them we can’t make it.” “Oh, boy,” David said, getting all ex- cited again. He looked down at the table. “This means we need two more dishes... and some more knives and forks.” “Til help you get them,” Alan said, tak- ing his hand. “Swell,” David said. He turned to Han- nah and Jerry, “You two can start drink- ing your orange juice and start enjoying yourselves, meanwhile.” Then, as_ he walked back to the kitchen with his fa- ther, he looked up and asked, “Is this al- most as good as the Hawaiian party you and Mommy just went to, Dad?” Alan smiled, “This is the best party your Mother and I ever went to.” And it was.... END Alan will appear in MGM’s THe Bapianp- ERS and United Artists’ THe Man In THE Net and THe Proup REBEL, produced by Samuel Goldwyn, Jr. 57

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583 and Paramount's Tur MOSES AND THE DANCING GIRL @ Chuck Heston tells this one on himself— how he was carried away by a part, then brought back to earth with a sudden jolt by two words from an extra. “After ten months in Egypt.” says Chuck, “playing Moses in The Ten Com- mandments, | really got carried away with the part. “T guess it was the long white beard and hair and the flowing robe. coupled with my solemn and sometimes awesome lines. “Anyway. I finally reached the point where I wouldn’t smoke a cigarette or even drink a cup of coffee on the set. They didn’t seem proper things for Moses to be doing. “T just walked around between takes and more or less glared. “One day we finished the first take of a scene on Mount Sinai, where I hold up the tablets of stone and everyone cowers beneath them as | scathingly dress them down as sinners. “We quit for lunch after the take and I made my way down the mountain side through the ‘sinners.’ carrying the com- mandments in my arms and staring sol- emnly ahead. “By now I was really gone. “No one said a word to me until I neared a littke dancing girl who was wearing about seven square inches of tiger skin and sipping a martini someone on the set had made for her. As I walked in front of her, she brought me back among the humans with only two words uttered just Joud enough for me to hear. She said: “Party pooper!” Watch for Chuck Heston in U-I’s Toucn Or Evit, UA’s Tue Bic Country BUCCANEER. introducing james darren (Continued from page 37) called their names until they were both awake. “Mama ... Pop,” he said. “I was up in New York today and I got signed up for the movies.” His mother, who’d awakened with a start, smiled for a moment and then burst into tears. His father, who wasn’t really awake at all at first, snapped up into a sitting posi- tion and grabbed his son’s hand. “E vero, Jimmy?” he asked. Jim nodded. “It’s true, Pop,” he said. And then he gulped—because glad as he was that his folks were so glad, he was sorry they'd got over their grogginess al- ready. “And you don’t smile at this good news?” his father asked, still clutching at his nineteen-year-old son’s hand and grinning broadly. “Well, Pop... Jim started to say, his voice dead serious. Mrs. ,Ercolani turned suddenly. “Jimmy,” she said, “you didn’t do anything wrong to get into the movies, did you?” “No, Mom,” Jim said. “T mean,” Mrs. Ercolani said, thinking back to an incident Jim himself will tell about later in this story, ‘“‘you didn’t go locking up anybody in a closet or some- thing?” “No, Mom,” Jim said, gulped. “It’s just,” he said, you to know I’m married.” There was a long, but not very long, and again he “that I wanted pause. “To Gloria,’ Mrs. Ercolani said, not asking. Jim nodded. “And it’s been about a year,” Mr. Er- colani said, not asking. Jim nodded again—and his folks turned and nodded wisely at one another. They'd suspected it, they told him now, but they were never really sure. And any- way, they said, it was wonderful news and why was Jim shaking so much all of a sudden; they knew that he’d always loved Gloria and now they loved Gloria too, and they wanted them both to always be very happy—and, Mr. Ercolani said, laughing and getting out of bed and reaching for his bathrobe, “What do you say, Mama, you make us all a nice cup of coffee and we celebrate our Jimmy being a movie star and a husband, all at once?” The talk From that point on, they sat and talked and laughed till the early hours of the next morning, reminiscing about the old days of Jim Ercolani, wondering about the new days of James Darren—the professional name he had decided on, thankful that all their years of dreaming and hard work were coming to such a wonderful end. Mrs. Ercolani, being a mother—and a woman, wanted to know all about the wedding first. She had known Gloria, the pretty dark-haired Jewish girl from down the street, for about as long as Jim had, seven years. She knew they’d met when they were both twelve, that they’d started to go out together to things like the movies and the beach when they were about fifteen, and that for a couple of years now they’d been going out together every night of the week. But the wedding, Mrs. Er- colani wanted to know—what was it like and where did it take place and.... “We only did it secretly,” Jim inter- rupted her, as if he had to explain, “be- cause I didn’t want you, to feel you were losing a son so young.’ “T know,” Mrs. Ercolani said, “but how did it happen?” Jim smiled. “Well,” he said, “for the last couple of years I’d wanted to marry Gloria. But always I told myself, ‘You’ve got to — wait until you can support her.’ And then 4 one day I realized it might be a long time and I couldn’t wait that long and so I asked Gloria if she’d marry me and she said yes. So a couple of nights later we got into a car and drove down to Elkton, Maryland. I needed a ‘father’ to give his consent and so we got this guy to come along and all the way down I had to teach him how to spell Ercolani so it would look right when he had to sign the papers. And then when we got there that part went all right, but I found out that all the weddings in Elkton were listed in a news- paper around there and I had to pay this reporter fifteen dollars to keep my wed- ding out of the papers.” Mrs. Ercolani tsk-tsked. “You were too broke to get married right,” she said, “and y? then fifteen dollars—poof! The bargain “Well,” his mother said, winking, “to- morrow night you bring my new daughter- in-law over here for dinner and I'll make a lasagna of fifteen pounds and that way well make everything even. Okay?” “Okay,” Jim said, winking back. Now it was Mr. Ercolani’s turn. did his son get his movie contract? Whereupon Jim told him the story, the true story, that even fairytale Hollywood finds it hard to believe. “I went up to New York last Thursday to have some pictures taken,” he began, then told them how on his way out of the studio the photographer’s secretary, a warm-voiced middle-aged woman, asked him, “You’re interested in show business, aren’t you?” “That’s right,’ Jim had said. “You got any leads?” the woman asked. How I'm an actor interested in coffee and roles. Cary Grant “No,” Jim said. “Here,” the woman said, jotting down a name and address on a memo paper, “go over and talk to this lady.” Jim thanked her and a little while later he was in the lobby of the Brill Building on Broadway, waiting for an elevator to take him up. “When I got into the elevator,” Jim says, “this woman came in right after me. She began staring at me as soon as she stepped in and she stared all the way up. Then, when the elevator stopped at the ninth | or tenth floor, she got out and I got out, too. She went into an office and I went to | the receptionist’s desk. I showed the recep- tionist the note from the photographer's secretary and she took me into an office. It was the same office the woman from the elevator had gone into. We both looked a little surprised to see one another. Then | we shook hands and the woman asked me to sit down.” The interview “I like your looks,’ the woman said, ) very matter-of-factly. | “Thank you,” Jim answered, running his hand across his face, as if to wipe away the sudden blush. “Have you ever had any acting expe- rience?” the woman asked. “No,” Jim said. “Any acting classes?” “Well,” Jim said, “I signed up with a, school—Stella Adler’s—here in New York j} about a year ago, but I’ve only gone to’ about two weeks’ worth of classes.” “Why?” the woman asked. “Because I’m lazy,” Jim said. “That’s an honest answer,” smiled the woman. “Now,” she said, “Tell mea out

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yourself. What were you like as a kid, a young boy?” 2 “TI was shy,” Jim said, starting slowly, “very shy, so shy that everybody thought I was conceited. If people said hello to me—I don’t know why—but I used to be embarrassed to say hello back and I'd just look down at my shoes and wouldn’t answer. Once in school, I remember, a girl said hello to me and I didn’t say hello back and later, when I saw her walking towards me with another girl, I heard her say, ‘Here comes that snob!’ It made me feel awful.” “Were you a goody-goody then?” the woman asked. Jim grinned. “No,” he said. “In other ways I used to be a pretty fresh kid.” “Like when?” the woman asked. | “ike once in high school,” Jim said. ! “T was having a lot of trouble with this | teacher and it came to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore and so 'I locked her up in a closet.” “And?” the woman asked, trying to hide her smile. Life on the farm “And I got expelled,” Jim said, not smil- | ing. “And then there was the time my | kid brother, Johnny, and I were living on my uncle’s farm up in Woodstown, New Jersey, and there was this horse. Dixie was his name. He was blind in one eye. And when nobody was around we’d take him to the house and feed him. And Otto Preminger, producer-director of Bonjour Tristesse, taught drama at Yale, shortly after he arrived from his native Vienna. A friend asked how he could teach at an American university when he knew so little English. "It was easy," said Preminger. ‘I'd assign the students to read a play. Then I'd call on one of them to give his opinion of if, and call on another to disagree with him. And all | had to do was nod, and listen." Leonard Lyons in the New York Post then one day, just like that, he lay down and died. Johnny and I were with him at the time and we ran to tell my grand- mother. We were crying and I remember my grandmother coming out to see Dixie and saying, ‘Si, € morto—yes, he is dead,’ and then taking off her apron and putting it around his head, sort of out of respect. Then we all just stood there and prayed that Dixie would be happy in whatever place he was going now.” “Jim,” the woman asked, “have you ever done anything you’re real proud of?” “That’s a hard question to answer,” Jim | said. “Have you ever done anything you're | really sorry about, then?” the woman asked. Jim thought a moment. And then he nodded. “The trumpet,” he said. “I’d been studying trumpet for about three years and my father went out and bought me | the anniversary, I guess. But I was really ' getting fed up with my lessons and I had | this teacher who’d give me a poke in the arm when I played a wrong note some- | times. So one night I decided not to go for lessons anymore. I went to a candy store | near the house instead. And when the teacher saw I didn’t show up, he phoned | my father and asked him what was wrong. | My father didn’t know, but he came-look- } ing for me and he found me in the candy e hiding under a pin-ball machine. He 5 ght then and there. eG Cetera al 18 4, this new instrument, to kind of celebrate _ The BiG MOVIE titles are DELL Books DOSTOYEVSKY’S CLASSIC NOVEL OF LOVE AND MURDER The Movies of these best sellers are now playing in your neighborhood or coming soon. For the whole story, read the book, then go see the movie. ON SALE WHEREVER POCKETSIZE BOOKS ARE SOLD

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$100 for you! Fill in the form below as soon as you've read all the stories in this issue. Then mail it to us right away because each of the following readers will get $10—the one who sends us the first questionnaire we open; the 100th; the 200th; the 400th; the 600th; the 800th; the 1!000th; the I500th; the 2000th; the 3000th. Mail your ballot to: MODERN SCREEN POLL, BOX 125, MURRAY HILL STATION, N.Y. 16, N.Y. Please check the space left of the one phrase which best answers each question: 1. | LIKE PERRY COMO: pletely [] completely [] L] more than almost any star [) a lot {J very little [) not at all () fairly well very little [] not at all 9. | LIKE ALAN LADD: [} don’t know him well enough to say TREAD: [-] all of his story [J part [J none L] more than almost any star [] a lot fairly well IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] super-com- fairly well [J very little () not at all pletely [] completely [] fairly well " ae aroN ain well BnOuey to say very little not at all : CJall of his story [J part () none = a IT HELD MY INTEREST: super-com- . | LIKE BRIGITTE BARDOT: pletely (] completely fairly well Gi very little [J not at al 10. | LIKE DEBRA PAGET: [J more than almost any star [) a lot 2 [1] more than almost any star [) a lot L] fairly well [] very little (] not at all {? don’t know her well enough to say READ: [J all of her story [] part [J none Houston, Texas; Carol Kohl, Madison, Wisconsin. IT HELD-MY INTEREST: [] super-com- een pe ae aU pletely chee i" fairly well TREAD: [J allofherstory [J part [] none UUELY, IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] super-com- 3. | LIKE TOMMY SANDS: pletely completely fairly well more than almost any star [] a lot LJ very little () not at all () fairly well (1) very little (J) not at all 11. | LIKE RICHARD EGAN: [J don’t_know him well enough to say more than almost any star [a lot 1 READ: [1] all of his story () part LJ none 4 fairly well [] very little [) not at all IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] super-com- (| don’t know him well enough to say pletely [] completely [] fairly well !_READ: [Jall of his story [J part (J none 1 very little (] not at all Mt en al TEES Sreeor pletely completely airly we 4. | LIKE BARBARA STANWYCK: Hy [ more than almost any star (|) a lot al WGsy We es 2s ail {J fairly well (1 very little () not at all 12. | LIKE JOANNE WOODWARD: (] don’t know her well enough to say {J more than almost any star [] a lot 1 READ: [all of her story (] part [] none L] fairly well [1] very little [J not at all IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] super-com- [don’t know her well enough to say pletely ([ completely [] fairly well I LIKE PAUL NEWMAN: DD very little [) not at all a more han almost amen be lot airly we very little [) not at all 5. | LIKE JUNE ALLYSON: ; A Pj more than almost any star C2 ot Feeeas ret tee yenouan ay (] fairly well (1 very little ( not at all IT HELD MY INTEREST: [J super-com- {| don’t know her well enough to say pletely {] completely in fairly well 1 READ: [all of her story (] part [) none (J very little [] not at all IT HELD MY INTEREST: [ ] super-com- pletely {] completely [) fairly well 13. | LIKE GEOFFREY HORNE: (J very little [J not at all 7 more ean aren anttie Goe pt i airly we very little not at a 6. | LIKE JAMES DARREN: 1 : [J more than almost any star (a lot aul cyt of nig ee ee nea Fh dart Wow wel enh votcay | tO WY IMMEREST: Duron TREAD: [all of his story Cipart Linon Hee Tite Ce CMeE ot alee eee IT HELD MY INTEREST: [ ] super-com- pletely (| completely [] fairly well 14. | LIKE GUY MADISON: (J very little [] not at all [J more than almost any star [J a lot 7. | LIKE TONY CURTIS: i) ants lari inie: elt enum oc E more than almost any star [] a lot READ: [J allofhisstory [] part L}none fairly well [] very little [) not at all IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] super-com- (J don’t know him well enough to say letel ompletel fairl i | LIKE JANET LEIGH Pieverslittientornatsat valli same toes J more than almost any star [) a lot my g [J fairly well (J very little (] not at all 15. | LIKE GLENN FORD: [J] don’t_know her well enough to say [ more than almost any star [] a lot T READ: [_Jall of theirstory [)part []none L) fairly well (] very little [) not at all REST: super-com- [J don’t_know him well enough to say IT HELD MY INTERES p u pletely completely fairly well 1 READ: [] allofhis story (] part (] none (] very little [) not at all Ht aeED MY PL ae L] super-com- Se ce ae Er vety iE} at at fairly well [J very little [) not at all 16. | READ: [] all of HOW TO SNAG A Hi don’t know her well enough to say STAG [ part [) none READ: [Jall of her story (J part [J none IT HELD MY INTEREST: [] completely IT HELD MY INTEREST: [| super-com- © fairly well (J very little () not at all 17. The stars I most want to read about are. Ports eee a ee eee 1 (1) MALE ) FEMALE 2 (2) MALE <p FEMALE (3) MALE (3) FEMALE eS AGEs. et-uener NAME... 2. cccccc cn nceecece in OO OD-0IG Poco GAG Ooo COT OOUCdOS . Here are the poll prize winners for February: Renee Cohen, Plainfield, New Jersey; Mrs. Hester Bonner, St. Louis, Mo.; Mary J. Nitz, Philippi, West Virginia; Mrs. Mary M. Elliott, Pontiac, Ill.; Lois Lowenhaupt, Covington, Tenn.; Leslie Samuels, Flushing, N.Y.; Joan Mims, Pt. Arthur, Texas; Marge Krstich, Brooklyn, New York; Rita Kennedy, I tried to explain to him, that I was sorry about the new trumpet and everything, and I think it took him a while to under- stand.” The kid in the night club “Did you ever want to be a musician?” the woman asked. “T wanted to be a singer,” Jim told her. “Ever since I was a kid, I guess that’s what I wanted to be. I remember when I was about nine years old singing for my grand- mother all the time. Her favorite song was Besame Mucho and Id sing it over and over for her. Then a few years later I told my father about my wanting to be a singer and he contacted a friend who knew a friend, and before I knew it I was singing at Frank Palumbo’s C-R Club in Philadelphia a few nights a week. Don't get me wrong, Ma’am—this wasn’t for pay. It was just one of those deals where I’d be sitting at the bar—drinking glass after glass of hot water and lemon for my voice —and the floor show would begin and the MC would say, ‘We’ve got a special sur- prise for you tonight—a guest star in our audience named Jimmy Ercolani.’ I never could understand why he just wouldn't say, ‘There’s a kid here tonight who'd like to sing for you people.’ Anyway, Id get up to the bandstand and start to sing. I was always very nervous on my first num- ber, but there’d always be some applause after it and so I figured if they want to sit and listen to me, Ill be glad to oblige. After the first song, ’d get over my ner- vousness and the only thing that would get me then would be some of the musicians sitting behind me. There’d always be one who’d say to another, ‘Who’s he trying to sound like tonight—‘Frank Sinatra?’—or ‘Perry Como?’—or ‘Mel Torme?’ This really used to get me.” “What did your parents think of your singing?” the woman asked Jim now. “Oh, I never would allow my mother to come,” Jim said. “Everytime I sang any- thing in front of her she would start to cry, like it was the most beautiful voice and the most beautiful notes in the world. In fact, the only person I know who ever heard me sing professionally was my father, and that was because I was under- age at the time and he had to come. What a guy he is, my father. He’s a tailor and all day he’d work hard in the store and then he’d go home for supper and then, instead of just sitting around and relaxing like other people, he’d come with me to the club and sit around for hours, till the early morning sometimes, just so I could get a chance to sing and practice. “When I was a kid I never had many friends. Even now, I guess I don’t. But my father is probably the best friend I'll ever have. He taught me a lot about electrical work, which he’s very good at, and when I got interested in making model airplanes he used to help me a lot. And I used to like to build cars, too—you know, take stuff _ out of the trash cans at garages and junk shops and put it all together and hope the jalopy would move when I was through— and even on this my father used to spend a lot of time helping me, because he knew that what I was doing was making me | happy and so it made him happy, too.” They like him The woman smiled and then she reached for her phone. “I’d like to talk to Harry Romm at Columbia Pictures,” she told her secretary. A moment later, she was con- nected. “Hello, Harry,” she said, “there’s — a boy here I’d like you to see.” Within an hour, both she and Jim were | seated in Mr. Romm’s office. They all talked back and forth for about fifteen minutes and then Mr. Romm got up, shook Jim’s hand and said, “You'll be hearing | from me.”

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Jim heard the next day, by phone, in Philadelphia. Mr. Romm wanted him to come to his office on the following Mon- day for something “very important.” Jim sweated out the week end in silence. Then, Monday morning at 11 o’clock, he showed up at the movie executive’s fancy office. “T have a contract here for you to sign,” Mr. Romm told Jim. “And I’ll make a deal with you, We’re not going to bother giv- ing you a screen test. And we never sign contracts till the party has read a scene first. But why don’t you sign this first, and then you can read.” Nervously, Jim signed. And then, nerv- ously, he read a scene from Golden Boy. And then, very nervously, he killed a couple of hours in New York before call- ing Gloria and telling her the great news and then going back to Philadelphia to tell his folks. “A husband and an actor,” his mother said now, proudly, the tears still in her eyes, as they sat around the kitchen table—her, her husband and her son—drinking coffee and talking about what had happened. “A husband and—I hope, an actor,” Jim said. Then he looked down at his watch. It was late, and he started to bed. “Don’t forget,” his mother called out, “tomorrow night—you and Gloria—the lasagna!” “All right, Mom,” Jim called back. A nice name Then Mrs. Ercolani turned to her hus- -band. “Papa,” she asked, “this name Dar- ren that Jimmy says he picked for the movies. How did he think of that one?” “You know how interested he’s always been in reading about sports cars all the time,” Mr. Ercolani said. “I guess it’s from the name of the English sports car.” “Oh,” Mrs. Ercolani said. She repeated the name a few times. “That’s a nice name —James Darren—isn’t it, Papa?” she asked. Her husband took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s a very nice name, Mama,” he said. And after just a few months the name James Darren was to become a very nice name to the executives at Columbia Pic- tures in Hollywood, too. Jim’s first picture after his arrival in the movie town was Rumble On the Docks. His part was small, but his im- pression on the fans was big and the mail started to pour in. In his next two pic- tures, The Brothers Rico and Operation Mad Ball, his parts were somewhat bigger and so was his impression on the fans and now the mail really started to come in droves. Meanwhile, for the past year or so, the studio had had a hot script property on its hands. It was called Gunman’s Walk. Tab Hunter had been signed for one role; Van Heflin for another. But the third male lead was open, and had been open for a long time. It was an important role and the studio had to be sure it was filled right. And then one day someone interrupted a casting conference and said, “How about Jimmy Darren?” And that was it—the beginning of what everyone at Columbia bets will be the big-time for a young man who rates it. Jim’s reaction to all this? He’s still a shy-enough guy to say sim- ply that it’s all wonderful and that he hopes he makes proud all the people who’ve helped him and had faith in him. But talk to him just a little while longer and mention, in passing, that you’ve heard somewhere that he and his Gloria became parents not too long ago, and the shyness disappears like snow on a spring hillside and Jim sunnily tells you, “Yep, I’m a father. He’s a boy—name’s Jimmy. And let me tell you, it was the happiest mo- (Advertisement) The Opposite Sex and Your Perspiration By Valda Sherman Did you know there are two kinds of perspiration? “Physical,” caused by work or exertion; and “nervous,” stimulated by emotional excitement. Doctors say this “emotional perspiration” is the big offender in underarm stains and odor. It is caused by special glands that are bigger, more powerful, pour out more perspiration. And this kind of perspiration causes the most offensive odor. Science has discovered that a deodorant needs a special ingredient specifically formulated to overcome this offensive “emotional perspiration” odor. And now it’s here .. . the remarkable ingredient Perstop*—the most effective, yet the gentlest odor-stopping ingredient ever discovered—and available only in the new cream deodorant ARRID. Use ARRID daily and you'll be amazed how quickly this new ARRID with Perstop* penetrates deep into the pores and stops this “emotional perspi- ration” odor. Stops it as no roll-on, spray-on, or stick could ever do. You rub ARRID in—rub perspiration out .. . When the cream vanishes, you know you are safe, even when you are nervous or stimulated by emotional excitement. Doctors have proved that this new ARRID with Perstop* is actually 114 times as effective as all leading deodorants tested. rub ARRID in—rub odor out. Remember—nothing protects you like a cream... and no cream pro- tects you like ARRID with Perstop*. So don’t be half-safe. Be completely safe. Use ARRID with Perstop* to be sure. Only 43¢ plus tax. *Carter Products trademark for sulfonated hydrocarbon surfactants. ment in my life when he came. You see, when I’d thought about my having a child someday, I’d always hoped it would be a boy—so I could do things for him and build things for him and just be with him more than I figured I’d be with a girl. Of course, if it was a girl I would have loved her very much. But I really wanted a boy and—I couldn’t help it—but Gloria knew this, too. And I guess I really rubbed it in because one day before the baby came I promised her I’d bring two dozen roses to the hospital if she filled my order. Da-Da (whistle) Da-Da “T guess every parent thinks his child is unusual in so many ways,” Jim goes on, “but you want to hear about mine? Well, first of all, he can whistle already. He says Da-Da (whistle) Da-Da, with a real strong whistle in the middle. He calls everybody Da-Da, even his mother. “And for another thing, he really loves music—especially Frank Sinatra. Every time he gets rambunctious all we have to do is put on a Sinatra record and as soon as the singing starts Jimmy quiets down and begins to wave his hand like he’s conducting. We call him Nelson Riddle sometimes. And let me tell you, it’s got to be a Sinatra record that will quiet him down. We've tried Jackie Gleason a few times—you know, that quiet sentimental music—but Jimmy just ignores it and keeps on being rambunctious until he gets what he wants.” Then Jim smiles and says, “Gloria and I are with him all the time. That’s the way we're happiest. We have a little apartment here in Hollywood and it’s just us and the baby and it’s great that way. We don’t go out much. I don’t like parties. I’d just rather not go to them. When Gloria and I want to get out we usually go to the movies, or else we get into my car and drive out to the Mojave Desert and I shoot. I don’t shoot at anything in particular; either just up in the air or at a few empty soda bottles I always keep in the back of the car. And sometimes, when we just feel like visiting with some other people, we go over and see Paul Piccerni and his family. Paul played one of my brothers in Rico. He’s got eight kids. I feel just like their uncle, we’re that close. In fact, one of the kids—Peevee, they call him—always calls me Uncle Charlie be- cause the first time he saw me he thought I was Paul’s brother. “Yes, it’s a great life,’ Jim continues, “just the way we lead it. And it’s funny, but sometimes someone will ask me what’s your greatest wish. And I have to tell them that it’s that. everything continues to go along just as nicely as it’s going today.” And then Jim pauses and let’s you in on a little secret. “Although to tell you the truth,” he says, “deep down I wish to see the day when I’m enough of a success so that I can drive back home to Philadel- phia in a shiny, new Mercedes-Benz, hand my father the key and say, ‘Here, Pop, this car is for you.’ And then to give my mother a check and tell her, ‘This is for a new house to live in after all the things you've done for me.’ This is something I really want to do someday. Then after that I can start thinking about my own nice car and house—for me, Gloria and the baby. If I’m worth anything out here, there should be plenty of time for all that to come true, you know?” From where we sit, Jim, we’d say it should be a cinch. END Watch for Part 2 of Jimmy Darren's story, coming soon. You can see Jim in Columbia’s OprEra- TION Map Batt and Gunman’s WALK. ?

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| ; | GLENN FORD a e ah | | || | | al a hae ie cl i Seine Somebody has to believe in you— Glenn Ford and his lovely wife Eleanor Powell know a secret for a happy marriage... . HB There is a saying in Hollywood that the acting span of the average movie star is five years. We know one actor who’s an exception to that saying—and his name’s Glenn Ford. Glenn has been appearing on the sereen since 1939. Reminded of this, Glenn looks almost apologetic. “I don’t understand it,” he’ll say. “When you think of all of the bad pictures I’ve made, it’s a wonder I’m still around. Guess maybe, just because so many people believed in me—guess I had to live up to it all! “Actually,” says Glenn, “I spent a good many years .wanting to be nothing more than a stage manager. I used up a lot of energy in hating actors. I had to play nursemaid to them all the time, running up and af down stairs backstage, prodding them into being on time, being squeezed in the middle when two of them got into a brawl about the star dressing room. Once an actor overslept and missed the train to Santa Barbara, and who did he blame? Me, of course! There was no such thing as a tolerant actor. I was almost always _ a

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out from the people who know him _ wife Sheila, manager-advisor-and-friend 5 elen Ainsworth, brother Wayne Mallory, fellow actor Andy Devine, director George Sherman—and even from Guy himself, ‘and some others.... The change most apparent to all is his ‘new self-assurance as compared to an al- most incredible degree of shyness as re- cent as three years ago. Reporters who came to interview him in- variably walked away with a feeling of “he’s a heck of a nice guy, but he has nothing to say....” Usually his publicist did all the talking, with Guy’s remarks restricted to a few brief answers. He shunned parties and people; he shunned both personal and pro- fessional associations. The first departure from this attitude oc- curred at a cocktail party at the Pan Pacif- ic Auditorium, when a petite, attractive, brown-haired colleen captivated him and he forged ahead and introduced himself! _ “That’s the first time he ever talked to a girl on his own account since I have known him,” the publicist-host told pretty Sheila Connolly, now Mrs. Guy Madison. To make the surprise complete, he even offered to take her home. But then he ‘promptly reverted back to style. a ae ae eT Blushed, even on phone “He was so shy,” Sheila recalls, “I had the feeling he was blushing even when he talked to me on the phone....” And he called regularly, every day, un- less he was on a hunting trip with Rory Caihoun or Howard Hill. Then he phoned ‘as soon as he got back—even if it was _ three o’clock in the morning. But he wouldn’t make a date. _ “J hinted I’d like to be taken out,” | Sheila admitted. “But he didn’t bite....” So she invited him for supper. _ “Td love to come,” Guy exclaimed when she called. “What can I bring?” “What can you WHAT?” “Bring along to eat.” “That won’t be necessary.” Nevertheless, at seven the next morning, on the way to the studio, he stopped by and left a huge leg of lamb, enough to feed eight people. Sheila didn’t have the ' faintest idea what to do with it, called a || friend who told her all about basting it | with mustard and sprinkling it with cloves, SES EET SEPA YI eae then spoiled the dish by using garlic | cloves instead of regular ones. Result: Guy ' had to take her out for dinner whether he | liked it or not. And he liked it. | Yet his attitude didn’t change for a long || time. “Even after we were married, I couldn’t make him go to a dinner party, | premiere, any function where there were more than a couple of people.” | His reluctance “to ease up” was just as 1, noticeable to Andy Devine, his co-star in || the Wild Bill Hickok series. Recalls Andy, 1 “When I first met Guy, I found it ex- : ) tremely difficult to get along with him. As |, far as our work was concerned there was | no problem. But I’m the kind of fellow | who loves to talk to people, get to know /them real well. Call it nosey, call it -chummy, call it whatever you want.... ‘|| but it didn’t get me anywhere with him. Most subjects he wouldn’t discuss at all. : | About the rest he was hesitant. The yj Only exception was hunting and fishing.” y i While Andy couldn’t do much about it, 0! Sheila was unwilling to leave Guy in his i; Shell. She considered it essential for him ‘|| to mix with others, to become more at / ) ease, more self confident. “Besides,” she i sisted at breakfast one morning, “you owe it to your fellow actors.” _Guy’s head shot around. “Why?” “Tf you want them to go to the opening your pictures and to studio parties on eh have to do the same for ir. a: Little by little he changed. He’d go to a premiére, occasionally. He didn’t object quite as much to attending a dinner party. He was willing to have people over to the house once in a while. To what extent he has readjusted him- self by now was evident a few weeks ago when he returned from a wild boar hunt on the Santa Barbara Islands. “I got a big one,” he announced as he climbed out of the car, pulled a huge boar from the trunk, and slung it over his shoulder to take it to the garage. Sheila was impressed, but puzzled about what to do with all the meat. “That’s ali taken care of,’ Guy replied. “We're having a party on Saturday.” “Here? At the house?” “Of course.” And then he invited twenty- five people to have dinner with them! A week later he suggested they attend the SHARE party at the Cocoanut Grove, and a few days after that made arrange- ments to see the Ice Capades. “It’s get- ting to the point where I am the one who suggests staying home once in a while,” Sheila admits with a grin. “Particularly since once he gets to a party nowadays, he has such fun I can hardly budge him.” According to most people who know him, another change in Guy is his new will- ingness, almost anxiousness, to accept re- sponsibilities. Sheila remembers how he used to avoid making a decision that might hurt any- one, even when it was a fair decision. Like when the Madisons were dissatisfied with their help. It was always her duty to do the firing. Not anymore. The week she brought their last baby home from the hospital, Guy walked into the living room just as their housekeeper was going through his personal checks. Without hesitating he told her to pack and leave. Comments Sheila ruefully, “He didn’t enjoy doing it, but he did it.” Guy’s brother, Wayne, points out that these changes have been brewing for a long time; this isn’t any over-night switch. Wayne not only insists that Guy has always played “big brother” to him and others, but that the consciousness of accepting responsibilities has made him serious be- yond his years—long before Hollywood, and the consequent problems of a career that didn’t pan out at first, a marriage that fell apart, and all the other problems he faced during his first years. “Since we were kids. . . “Guy has looked out for me since we were kids,” Wayne says, remembering how his brother used to do many of Wayne’s chores when they were still living in Bakersfield. Like the morning the alarm rang at four, and it was Wayne’s turn to milk the cows. He had gone to a dance the night before, and didn’t get home till midnight. When he got out of bed, all his muscles ached and he could hardly move. Just as he poured some cold water over his head to help him wake up, Guy strutted into the room. “Go back to bed. The work’s done.” “But it was my turn,” Wayne protested. “T wasn’t so sure you could make it,” Guy grinned. Wayne went back to sleep. “This was the rule, not the exception,” he smiles, “and it still is.” He admits that without Guy, he could never have gone through college. “My brother supported both of us when we lived together, before he married Sheila. And Guy still sees to it that I get parts in his television and feature films.” Even though Wayne is now at the point where he can earn a good living on his own as an actor, “Thanks to Guy who gave me a start.” But Wayne doesn’t argue about the fact that Guy has matured a great deal in re- cent months and gives the lion’s share of . : Ake re Grand Forks Mother can’t risk being a “‘pioneer”’ when she shops... She’s always satisfied most with a BRAND that’s made a NAME for itself! “| MADE IT...and I make sure that the best materials and workman- ship go into any product with my name on it. Natu- rally, people blame me if my product is unsatisfac- tory, and they stop buying it. I can’t risk turning out anything that may be only MANUFACTURER ‘second-best.’ ”” “j SOLD IT... recom- mended it because the name it has made for itself tells me it’s one of the best, most up-to-date products in its field. In fact, a good brand name is the best guarantee my customers can have when they buy. And for me, too...I know DEALER they’ll buy it again.” 44] BOUGHT IT .. . be- cause it’s an advertised brand I can trust complete- ly. I just won’t risk my family’s welfare on some product I don’t know any- thing about—even when they say it’s ‘just as good.’ I feel safer, somehow, when I stick to a brand I know I T CUSTOMER can depend on.” Better buy by BRAND NAME * BRAND NAMES WEEK APRIL 13-20" “the famous makers’ names you trust BRAND NAMES FOUNDATION, INC. 437 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK 16, N. Y.

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JERRY LEWIS’ surplus suit problem m@ When Jerry Lewis goes into a men’s clothing store, he orders items like socks, sixty pairs at a time. Shorts he likes to order in five dozen lots, too, At six-week intervals! What does he do with this wholesale stock—doesn’t he like laundries? And what about the some forty suits, five dinner jackets and twenty sports jackets Jerry buys a year? Here’s the answer. ee ee a When the number of suits in his built-in closets gets up around 150. Jerry just throws a party—and gives away twenty-five or thirty suits at a clip to young actors and kids that he likes. Tony Curtis was wearing Jerry’s suits when he was just about able to afford the price of having them altered from Jerry’s size. The same went for Sammy Davis, Jr. Once, in the old days, Tony turned up sharp as a tack not only in a custom made suit of Jerry’s, but in his new alligator shoes. “Jerry's feet are longer and thinner than mine.” says Tony, “but I wore them!” All my life ’'d been wanting se 2 shoes like that. and I wasn’t going to not wear them just because they hurt a little!” It actually got so that Tony didn’t wait for a suit party. When he was feeling like wearing something different, he’d just go over to Jerry’s house and pick out something he liked. Once Jerry got a couple of suits he was particularly fond of. When he got home from a trip—no suits. Uh-huh. Tony had beat him to it. Of course. Tony Curtis buys his own suits today—and things are a little different, anyway. A few years ago Patti Lewis had an understanding with Jerry: no more gathering of the clan whenever a group felt like rummaging through Jerry’ ward- robe. After all. a girl’s entitled to some privacy in her own home. It’s not quite like it used to be, but Jerry goes right on giving away those $200 to $300 suits—some of which he hasn’t even worn. Some of the best-dressed laundry men around are to be found in Pacific Palisades. And a WESTERN UNION man might give Jerry a telegram—and wind up with a mohair suit. And that goes for the guys he works with too, the electricians and grips. Not that it’s confined to just suits. Jack Keller. Jerry’s long-suffering publicity man, tells this story of a trip they just made across the country: “We were between trains in Chicago, driving down Michigan Boulevard to change depots. We passed Suixa’s and Jerry jumped out of the cab. In seven minutes he bought thirty-six cashmere sweaters. I said to him, ‘You’ve got cabinets full of sweaters. What do you need these for?’ you gotta give “em a Jerry himself? He the clothes he wears on the screen! sweater!’ ” Jerry said, ‘Oh, you know—guys come over to play goli— goes to the studio in a sweater and jeans. The studio furnishes Jerry can soon be seen in Paramount's Rock-A-Bye-BABy. the credit to Sheila and her understanding, willingness, and patience toward him. While Guy has always been conscious of other people’s feelings, for a long time he showed a lack of comprehension that made his behavior awkward and boyish. For in- stance, he could never sleep late. And once he awakened, he “had to get up and do something.” In the process he usually upset the whole household. Indications of what to expect were clear to Sheila on their first Sunday at home after they were married. As usual, Guy woke up early, shortly after six. Since this was Sunday and he didn’t want to disturb her, he tried to get up as quietly as possible. He still made enough noise to make his new bride blink her eyes at him sleepily. “Now you go ahead and sleep as ‘long as you want to,” he said generously to her. Thirty seconds later he turned on the shower, full blast. She buried her head un- der the pillow. When he came back into the bedroom, he tapped her shoulder. “Where’s my new sport shirt?” She told him, made another attempt to get some rest. Suddenly she heard swish- ing noises, which seemed to go right past side, where Guy was practicing with his bow and arrows. Ten minutes later she heard the clatter of dishes in the kitchen— and gave up. It was easier to get up and join him. There was nothing intentional on Guy’s part. It simply didn’t occur to him that he was keeping his wife awake when she would have preferred to sleep. Once he did, he changed. The last few weeks before their third child was born, he not only tiptoed out of their bedroom and dressed outside, he wouldn’t even have breakfast at home be- cause the commotion might have awakened his wite. The change that has come over Guy is particularly evident in his work, according to the man best qualified on the subject, George Sherman. The well-known director is making The Hard Man, his second picture with Guy. The first was Reprisal, about a year and a half ago. “Guy has become much more self assured,” Mr. Sherman says. “He suddenly realized that this business is highly competitive, that he has to dig in. Today he has a conception of what he’s supposed to do which he didn’t He referred to two incidents, over a year apart. In Reprisal he played a half-breed, ashamed of his Indian blood. In one scene his Indian grandfather comes to visit him— but is turned away by Guy who’s afraid the town’s people would find out about his background. Only it didn’t come out right. The scene was rehearsed over and over again, and still wasn’t convincing. “Basic- ally soft-hearted, Guy couldn’t convince himself that any man would do that,” Mr. Sherman explained. “And he couldn’t ex- clude his real feelings from his acting.” But today? Well, take that fight scene | for his new picture. Guy, who plays a brutal Western marshal—actually a heavy till the very end—had a fight scene with Richard Kane in which he beats him up mercilessly. Ordinarily when a man is de- feated, the fight stops. But for extra effect | George Sherman wanted Guy to keep on | beating him again and again. “A year agol | don’t think he could have done it con- , vincingly,” the director admitted. “But now | —now he’s an actor.” Helen Ainsworth, who discovered Guy on the cover of a Navy magazine during World War II and has been his manager- friend-adviser ever since, adds that this maturity is just as evident in his business dealings. Till a few years ago, he would never make a move without first consulting her. “He still listens to my advice, but to- day he reads and analyzes a script with | complete self confidence.” His business manager adds a note of praise for Guy’s business sense—which in- cludes handling the details of his own | producing company and his real estate | developments. Yet here again, brother Wayne hints that Guy has never been a babe in the woods where business dealings were con- cerned. It has always been Guy’s dream, and still is, to have a cattle ranch of his own. The closest he could get to it as a boy was to join the F.F.A., Future Farmers of America. and raise and exhibit his own cattle—providing he had the money to get started. Since his family was even harder hit by the depression than most in the area, getting the funds from them was out of the question. One day, Wayne recalls, Guy mysteri- ously took off from home right after break- fast. He announced that when he got back, he’d have the money to buy the calf he’d been eyeing for a couple of weeks. His mother looked at him sadly, “I don’t want you to be too disappointed if you don’t get it, son.” “Why shouldn’t I?” She explained all about collateral, and how bankers didn’t loan any money with- | out it, and how he couldn’t possibly offer anything but the clothes on his back. “We'll see,’ Guy smiled confidently as he took off. Three hours later he came back in a | rattly old truck. The driver climbed out on one side, Guy on the other. Together they got the calf down from the back of the truck. “T still don’t know how he talked the banker into letting him have the money,” Wayne admitted. “But he did. He raised the calf to be a prize-winning bull, and paid back every cent, with interest. In fact, he got quite a business going that | way. Like the others, even Wayne could not | penetrate Guy’s wall of secrecy where his personal problems were concerned. “He | would never talk about his difficulties when | he and Gail separated. All I could do was , guess. I couldn’t help because I didn’t — know where to start or what to say.” What’s the biggest change that has come over Guy in recent months—as far | have before.” 68 her bed. Actually they came from the out- as Wayne is concerned? “He can laugh. |

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You know, now that I think of it, till recently I don’t remember many occasions when he actually laughed. He was always so serious. Too serious. I think he’s de- veloped a sense of humor!” Sheila seconds that motion, showing off the purse that Guy had bought her the previous week. On it was embroidered: You Can't Buy Money With Happiness. “A year ago,” Sheila smiles, “he probably would have given me another bow and arrow, hunting knife or gun and grimly reminded me of the consequences if I didn’t know how to handle them properly!” One thing about Guy that has not changed is his generosity. Wayne already mentioned Guy’s help in time of need. SOUT COUU CUCU ECC CCC ECL ob MODERN SCREEN’S SUPER STAR INFORMATION CHART 10,000 FACTS! 25¢ in coin gets you All The Info On 500 Stars! Have you ever wondered— %* WHAT’S JAMES DARREN’S REAL NAME? % WHEN’S NATALIE WOOD’S BIRTHDAY? * IS JOHNNY SAXON MARRIED? %* WHERE WAS DEBBIE REYNOLDS BORN? % WHAT’S SAL MINEO’S FAVORITE SPORT? IT’S THE OFFICIAL FACTS BOOK USED IN THE INSIDE OFFICES OF YOUR OWN MODERN SCREEN! (07 Tee COCOA Eee I | | I | | | | | | | | | | | | _l Super Star Information Chart 1958-59 Edition Dell Publishing Co., Inc., Dept. SC 321 West 44th St., N. Y. 36, N. Y. Enclosed please find 25 cents coin. Please rush me my copy of MODERN SCREEN’S | | | | | | | | | Sheva | | in | | | | | SUPER STAR INFORMATION | | | | | | | | | | CHART INGUIN Crit crates cise) sieietarencs wiharens lhe © | NGOTESS iis ius te Onna eat ats dyaic eaters | Clty eee a oe Zone..... State.... Everyone else who knows him could add some incident. Including the maid who works for the Madisons. Her brother is a tailor. One day she mentioned to Guy that he had very little work and needed more orders badly. Most employers might have shrugged it off as somebody else’s misfortune. Guy promptly got out his address book and called every- one of his friends to see if they could use a tailor-made suit, or at least needed some alteration. Within three days he got the man as much work as he could handle. But Andy Devine adds a curious fact: while Guy is generous, he hates to accept 1) thanks. On his last birthday, Andy’s feelings were somewhat hurt because when he ar- Tived on the set, nobody bothered to wish him anything. Not even Guy—who, Andy figured, should have remembered what date it was. About eleven, a local columnist invited Andy to lunch at the Hollywood Brown Derby. A little surprised, Andy said, “If it’s gossip you're after I don’t know any, except what I read in the paper, your column mostly.” The man still insisted on buying his lunch. No sooner did they arrive at the Brown Derby than Andy was surrounded by sixty of his friends! Guy’s idea of a sur- prise party! It must have cost him a small fortune. Yet he wouldn’t let Andy finish the sentence that started—“Guy, I want to than—” Another time, while shopping at Aber- crombie and Fitch in New York, Guy came across a pair of gloves which, he thought, “looked like Andy.” He promptly bought them. “What for?” Andy called out when he opened the package. “For your birthday,” walked off. Andy’s birthday was six months away. There’s another thing about Guy that hasn’t changed: his temper. He doesn’t lose it often, never in public. But when he does! Once it happened in a mid-western city on a personal appearance tour. Guy was received at the airport by the sponsor and a local publicist. Both had brought along their kids, and their friends’ and relatives’ kids as well. It was bedlam. Guy didn’t mind till he got into the wait- ing car, which was crawling with children who wouldn’t leave him alone all the way from the airport to the hotel. He sat tight- lipped, controlled, but tense and irritable. When he got to the hotel he made it known in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't ride in the company car again. And for the rest of his stay he took cabs. Usually, however, Guy becomes upset only when someone else is involved. That happened just recently, when his two-year-old daughter Bridget toddled into the playyard chasing a lizard. She reached the woodpile just as a rattler was winding itself around one of the logs. Her screeches brought her mother on _ the double, and she promptly killed the snake. But when Sheilah told Guy about it, he burst out furiously, “you never should have let her go into the play area alone!” Sheila tried to point out that even a child of two couldn’t possibly be watched all the time. But it took Guy a long time before he could admit that. Sheila didn’t get hurt. She knows his sensitivity where his children are con- cerned—and is glad about it. And usually acts accordingly! Like she didn’t call him back from a hunting trip a few weeks ago when Bridget became ill. “Why didn’t you get in touch with me?” Guy demanded when he returned. She smiled tiredly. “Could you have done anything except worry?” Gently he put his arms around her shoulders. “I’m afraid not.” Sheila is probably the only person who ever understood Guy completely—or at least as completely as anybody ever will. And she has adjusted herself accordingly. For instance, from the day they met she recognized his infatuation with sports— hunting in particular—and accepted it as part of their lives. Shell never forget her first birthday as Mrs. Guy Madison, when he walked into the living room just before dinner, and ordered her to “close your eyes.” Then he stepped closer, “Now stretch out your arms and don’t peek.” Visions of a beautiful evening gown or fur cape flashed through her mind. 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ERIN wouldn’t kiss him for 3 months— but then... @ When seventeen-year-old Erin’ O’Brien was in high school, the last thing in the world she had in mind was getting married. Not that she wasn’t popular—she was. Not that she didn’t have her share of crushes—she did. But she was much too busy doing her school work, singing on Tv, and helping her Ma take care of all the other kids in the O’Brien family. And helping Ma sure took up a lot of time, for Erin has seven sisters and six brothers, all younger than she is: Vernon, Sheila, Tessy, Michael, Timaree, Kathleen, Eileen, Kevin, Mavourneen, Tighe, Patrice, Sean and Dennis. So Erin was completely unprepared when handsome Jimmy Fitzgerald walked into her life and into her heart. It was early in October when she hurried from her last morning class at Lone Beacu HicH ScHOoot to the Tv studio where she had a regular show. Before going on the air, she had lunch at the studio and was introduced to Mr. Fitzgerald, a nineteen-year-old singer who was to make a guest appearance on her show that day. By the time they had finished their hamburgers and cokes, they were no longer Miss O’Brien and Mr. Fitzgerald to each other, but Erin and Jimmy. And by the time the show was over, he had asked her for a date that evening. There was a strict law in the O’Brien household, laid down by Erin’s Dad, that none of the kids could have dates on week nights. But as luck would have it, this was one of his nights for bowling and he wasn’t home. Erin’s Ma gave her permission to go out. So Erin and Jimmy went to a movie and had a great time. When he took her home, he asked if he might kiss her good-night. She said No. But Jimmy was persistent. On their next date he asked again if he might kiss her. Again she said No. Undaunted, he asked her another question: Will you marry me? Erin was too stunned to answer and would only shake her head Wo. A few months went by and Erin and Jimmy went out together two or three times each week. After every date he would bring her home promptly at 11 o'clock, and just before she went into the house he would ask his two questions: Can I kiss you good-night? Will you marry me? And always she said No. One night, in the middle of January, the two youngsters stood at the O’Brien front door. “Can I kiss you good-night?” Jimmy asked. This time Erin didn’t say anything. Instead she blushed a deep red and looked down at the ground. Jimmy stepped forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. She raised her head and his lips met hers. A minute or so later Jimmy asked his second question, “Will you marry me?” and Erin answered breathlessly, “Yes.” A few weeks later, on February 3rd, in a big church at Paso Robles, Erin O’Brien became Mrs. Jimmy Fitzgerald. Erin may be seen soon in ONIONHEAD and Girt On THE Run for Warner Bros. = — s. a Sees and too cold for either. It was a brand new rifle. “Just what I needed,” she cried out. And she did, because—except when she’s preg- nant—she goes along on all of Guy’s hunt- ing trips. “Naturally, once in a while Id like to sleep in a bed instead of a sleeping bag when we go away,” she confessed, but ad- mitted she doesn’t have the chance very often. And when she does, seldom for long. Like that time a couple of weeks before I talked to her she suggested to Guy that they go to Palm Springs. “But there’s no hunting!” “T know.” He thought about it a few seconds, then, “All right.” After three days at the swank Racquet Club he just “had to get away.” Sheila knew his patience had reached the limit, and compromised on going home “after we visit the Bill Doziers in the afternoon.” Guy agreed. She tried her best to make the after- noon last as long as possible by staying in the pool till she was shivering! Still, it | was an improvement. Three years ago he wouldn’t have gone at all! That Guy has grown more patient was pretty obvious another time not too long ago. Guy had taken Sheila and John Ericson’s wife, Milly, to Lakeside for a game of golf. “Sorry, Mr. Madison,” he was told, “You | can’t play today,” he was told, “It’s ladies’ day.” Guy didn’t get annoyed—as he might have a couple of years back. On the con- trary, he acted as their caddy all afternoon. But ask Guy how he thinks he’s changed | —and he says, “I don’t think I have!” George Sherman says yowre much more | at ease in this picture than you were in the last one.... “The part’s different.” he answered. Sheila and others say you're a lot more patient than you used to be....” “TJ don’t think so.” Do you feel you lose your temper more | often, less often, or as often as you did || before. ... I would say about as often.” Can you recall a time when you did | lose it? “Sure. Quite often.” Can you give me an example? “Tm afraid not.” And so it goes till he’s called back on the | set. But catch Guy away from official busi- ness—interviewing him, that is—at parties, | or at his house and he’s a different Guy! Like the time a reporter and his wife drove up to get some ideas for their own place which they were building at the. time. Guy took great pleasure and went into much detail on how he designed his own home, helped tremendously with sug- gestions for the visitors—and talked steadi- ly for over an hour. And that’s something that is different. — Quite obviously, Guy has changed in more ways than he’s stayed the same. Probably the best reason for it was given | by Sheila when she told about coming home from a party one night. Although Guy had never been reckless, he used to push the speed limit driving from one place to another, and has sever- al citations to prove it. That evening they were poking along at a leisurely thirty-five miles an hour when she commented on, the difference in his driving. Guy thought about it a few seconds, then turned to her with a grin. “I guess I’m not going anywhere now.” : What he meant to say was that he is, and has, what he always wanted. He final- ly got where he wanted to go.... END Guy’s in Columbia’s THE Harp Ma

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tommy (Continued from page 30) horseback rid- ing with Yvonne Lime. Surprised that we know so much about you two? We know a lot more, and we are going to lay it right on the line be- cause that’s the only way we can hope to make you see the right way. Most of all, Tommy, we know what and who is behind your actions, yours and Molly’s. We know that you almost got married last Christmas—and why you didn’t. And why both of you are now dating others to prove to yourselves and the world that you can get along without one another. You’ve been warned by your ‘advisors’ that marriage at this time would be bad for your career; that your fans would desert you unless you remained single; that they have even resented the constant references to an unofficial engagement between you and Molly. We are not condemning those who ad- vised you, because we sincerely believe that they did what they thought was in the best interest of your career. That doesn’t mean we agree with them! And we won’t even throw names like Pat Boone at you, who was already mar- ried and had a famliy when he was your age, and who, let’s face it, hasn’t done so badly for himself. We are taking a much more personal approach: we feel that the love of two wonderful young people like Molly and you are a heckuva lot more important than any career! Just look at what’s been happening to you these past months— Remember the day you met Molly? You’d gone to Anaheim to see Cliffie Stone about giving you a chance on his Home Town Jamboree. But Cliffie wasn’t there. Just as you were leaving, you met one of his star attractions, Molly Bee. Right from the start You confessed to Molly how much you had hoped to get on Cliffie’s show, and how disappointed you were that he wasn’t there. She was easy to talk to, a patient listener. And what did Molly do? Asked you to sing for the ballroom audience after the television show was over! Impressed by your voice—and by you—the next morning she talked to Cliffie about you so enthusiastically that he promptly asked you to come back. And he gave you the break you needed. You didn’t know that it was Molly who was responsible, did you, Tommy? ' She didn’t tell you, and she made Cliff promise not to say anything either be- cause it might embarrass you. We wonder if—in spite of your love for her—you have ever really appreciated the things she has done for you. Look at what happened last New Year’s ‘Eve, the most important New Year’s Eve in her young life. Because she was now eighteen, for the first time her mother had given her permission to stay out as late as ‘she wanted. She looked forward to the evening like a debutante to her coming- out party or a high school girl going to her first prom. So what happened? When you met for lunch that noon she noticed that you ‘looked hot and feverish, and were obvious- ly coming down with a bad cold. It was ‘she who suggested you go home and stay ‘in bed that night, who instantly turned _ down your offers to go out in spite of how ‘you felt. And did you know that she had three phone calls from other fellows who | wanted to take her out—and turned them We know you had fights, too. But all young people do, and so do most older ones—including some of our most happily married couples. But you made up easily because your love always proved a strong- er bond between you than the few words spoken in anger. Like last summer, when you arrived from New York at six in the morning and were disappointed that Molly was not waiting for you at Los Angeles’ Union Station, as you had expected her to be. At first you thought she was late and you impatiently paced the platform, looking at your wristwatch every few seconds. But the minutes turned into hours, and then you finally gave up. As far as you were concerned, you were through with Molly. Molly tried to explain And you told her so in no uncertain terms on the phone when you called her. Molly tried to explain that she had worked till three o’clock in the morning, that her mother insisted she get more sleep, that she had left a message for you at the sta- tion which apparently you never got. After you slammed down the receiver you had pangs of conscience. You knew that Molly wasn’t the kind of girl who would ignore a promise, whether it was to you, or anyone. And so you drove to Cliffe Stone’s Home Town Jamboree to talk to her, and found out from Cliffie that she’d been telling the truth. Remember how bad you felt? How you could have kicked yourself for what you had done, said, thought? And Molly un- James Hill, of the Hecht-Hill-Lan- caster film company in Hollywood, took wife Rita Hayworth's younger daughter to meet Burt Lancaster's youngsters, Milly and Susanna Lan- caster. Hill noticed that the chil- dren weren't playing together, and asked for the reason. Billy Lan- caster explained: "How can we play make-believe games when this kid, Yasmin, insists that we call her ‘Princess?’ ™ Leonard Lyons in the New York Post derstood, and you made up. She never mentioned the incident again.... That’s the kind of girl she is... the girl you love. You two have had wonderful times together: the mornings at Malibu beach when you chased her through the waves; the afternoons you went horseback riding through Griffith Park—remember the Sun- day when Molly’s horse reared back, frightened by a car, and then broke into a wild gallop—with you in hot pursuit? You may easily have saved her life that day when you brought the animal under control in true western style. And there were the drive-in theaters you both liked so much and the snacks at Bob’s Big Boy Hamburger place in Glendale. And have you forgotten that time you took Molly to the beach, the night you gave her the ring? What the ring meant You had got the idea a week before, that hot summer day you walked down Fifth Avenue in New York trying to decide what kind of a present to give her. You passed a jewelry shop and in the window you suddenly discovered a ring—two diamond- and-ruby hearts entwined in one another. We are sure that as long as you live you will never forget her expression when you slipped it on her finger that moonlit night on the Santa Monica beach. We don’t believe that either of you ever considered it just a friendship ring. You were both dead serious about one another! You were even more serious last Christ- mas—when your mind was all but made - ae PERMANENT DARKENER (2;,"";, FOR LASHES AND BROWS "7, @ NOT AN ANALINE DYE! @ 1 APPLICATION LASTS 4 to 5 WEEKS! 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MAY BIRTHDAYS Tf your birthday falls in May, your birth- stone is the emerald and your flower is the lily of the valley. And here are some of the stars you share it with: May i—Glenn Ford May 2—Bing Crosby May 4—Audrey Hepburn May 5—Tyrone Power May 6—Stewart Granger May 7—Anne Baxter Gary Cooper May s—Lex Barker May 10—Fred Astaire May 15—Anna Marie Alberghetti Joseph Cotten James Mason May 16—Henry Fonda May 20—George Gobel Jimmy Stewart May 21—Raymond Burr Kay Kendall Bill Williams May 22—Sir Lawrence Olivier Susan Strasberg May 23—Rosemary Clooney Joan Collins James Gleason Herbert Marshall John Payne May 24—Mai Zetterling May 25—Steve Cochran Jeanne Crain May 26—Peggy Lee John Wayne May 27—Vincent Price May 28—Sally Forrest May 30—Clint Walker May 31—Elaine Stewart John Payne May 23 Rick Jason May 21 Sally Forrest May 28 warned that this whole romance had al- ready gone too far. That the announce- ment of an engagement might spell the end of Tommy Sands, singer. That for your sake—and for Molly’s—yom should steer away from her, and date other girls. That if you really loved her, a few months, a few years wouldn’t matter anyway. That on the contrary, if you felt about her in five years as you do today, you would really be sure! You believed it. And even if Molly didn’t, she agreed that both of you could date others. But there was no enthusiasm in it, for either of you, although Molly made the better show of appearing gay. With you, we could see it by your obvi- ous lack of romantic interest when you walked down Hollywood Boulevard with Cathy Crosby, who dated you for exactly the same reason you took her out: she is unofficially engaged to a boy but can’t make up her mind to marry him, and is trying to readjust herself just as you are. We could tell when you took Judi Meredith to a picnic in Griffith Park—the Judi who I said yes on our first date (Continued from page 45) She says ‘Yes’ because Debra is convinced that “You can go for ten years with a man, and not until after you marry him find he’s all wrong for you! “T have to go by instinct. I believed it right to marry David. I didn’t have to go with him for years. I’m in love with David. I know it. “Besides, when people go together they put their best foot forward—so how can a girl really learn to know a man through dating? Another first-date marriage “My parents decided to marry each other on their first date, too, and they've been married for thirty-three years!” Her mother says, “I hope this marriage lasts as mine has. Debra didn’t have to date the field. In her work she has met a variety of men, and so she knows as much about men as other girls who have dated a lot. David is a fine boy.” Debra says, “Maybe some people think we were crazy to marry on such short notice. ’d think I was crazy if I didn’t marry David. I didn’t have to shop around to know my own mind. I think this ro- mance was right for us, and that this marriage will be right, too.” Not every one is that optimistic about it: she married a man who made Debra his fifth wife. Can a man who has already failed at marriage four times really be the right husband for such a bride? And even the first days of their life to- gether were spoiled by his life in the past. While Debra and David were honeymocn- ing in northern California, two of his ex- wives were conferring with their lawyers. His first wife, Mary F. Payne, was com- plaining because he had fallen $4,845 be- hind in child support payments, and his fourth wife, Sharon Lee, was suing him for $3,000 she claimed she had lent David. It was a difficult situation for love’s young dream. Mama approves While Debra was on her honeymoon, her mother, Mrs. Margaret Griffin, told how David and Debra met. “I’ve known David for a long time,” she said. “He used to come to our house casually, and neither he nor Debra paid any attention to each other.” : And when her mother said “casually’— that’s just what she meant. David hadn’t is in love with a boy in New York and tries to kill her loneliness as you do. We’ve watched you in the company of Connie | Stevens, whose publicist is trying to line | up dates for her with celebrities like your- self, to get her known. We don’t blame the publicist, we don’t blame Connie—who was honest with you. But to her you were just | another fellow, as she was just another girl to you—with no more between you than a casual liking for one another. We could go all the way down the line to prove our point... . Something special With none of them did you ever find the close, honest, rewarding thing you had with Molly . . . love. That is what every man wants in a girl, | and few are fortunate enough to find. That is what we don’t want to see you lose through outside pressures, and fears. That is why we urge you to weigh carefully— before it’s too late!—how much more you will lose than you stand to gain if you con- tinue on the path you seem to have chosen | for yourself. END | even been coming around to see Debra particularly! i] About ten years ago, David had come backstage at the theatre where Debra’s mother was doing a vaudeville turn— “‘“Bubbles’ was her stage name,” David grins today. Every couple of years, they'd run into each other, and Debra’s mother remembered him, remembered how sweet he had been to take the trouble to come and tell an unknown that he, for one, thought her act was good. : Recently, when Debra was doing her act | at Las Vegas’ Flamingo, David was singing | at the El Cortez, also in Las Vegas. One night Mrs. Griffin said to Debra, || after her show, “Let’s go to the El Cortez i to hear David sing.” A whole group sat at the same table and watched David’s act. Afterwards he came to their table, but no sparks flew. Except maybe the spark of affection Mrs. Griffin felt that prompted her to say, “When you get back to Hollywood, David, drop over some Sunday. We hold open house.” So he did; a couple of times. No sparks flew. In fact, no sparks ever flew between them till one night recently when he ~ dropped in, still just a family friend, and ‘ emerged as Debra’s groom-to-be. ; They had sat on the sofa watching a l TV show. Mysieriously, in the manner of young people all over the world, they were drawn to each other. All of a sudden Debra knew that David was her man, and | he knew this was the girl he wanted to | marry. A simple proposal “Will you marry me?” he asked, simply as that. She turned and looked at the boyish- ‘| faced man, who until that moment had been just a casual visitor at their home. 4 Her heart pounded. Her cheeks flushed. ‘| She no longer heard the announcer spill- ‘| ing his commercial message. What she /§ heard—though David wasn’t singing—was ‘i an immortal song of love. To such a song, ff when it reaches right into a girl’s heart— || a melody without words—there is only "jj one reply. Debra made it. And so they were married, in Debra’s fantastic family home. Debra has her own | apartment within that home—a playroom, # kitchenette, boudoir and a dressing room 9 with a marble bath. It has its own private ?) entrance. She and David will live there || when they’re together. For there are times when they will necessarily be separated by ‘| their careers. Debra has no intention of }

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1} strange sort. The home, with its twenty- | two rooms, is one of the largest and most giving up hers. Right now she is planning a trip to Mexico, for From the Earth to the Moon. David is in New York for a Tv show. They will go wherever their careers pull them. Is this a perfect marriage or a terrible example of a young girl’s mistake? But there’s no denying that all her life Debra has been preparing herself for just such an impulsive marriage as this. When she was fifteen she was a movie star with independence, a mink coat and a chance to play passionate love scenes with stars like Jimmy Stewart. When their film, Broken Arrow, was finished, her mother asked Jimmy, “Would you be surprised to learn that your leading lady is only fifteen?” “Tmpossible!” said Jimmy. “No girl of fifteen could play love scenes this passion- ately.” Though Debra’s love scenes on the screen practically set the film world on fire, off the screen there were no kisses, no passionate love making, no love making of any kind. And not because there weren’t plenty of men who were eager to date and woo Debra. One theory around Hollywood was that her mother objected to her dating. “That’s nonsense,’ Debra laughs. “I don’t date for just one reason: I don’t want to date. Why should I waste my time with a lot of young men who mean noth- ing to me? When I meet the right man I'll know him. Till then, my career means everything to me. “And I have enough fun with my family.” Only once in a blue moon did Debra break her dateless state of existence. Once, at the insistence of her studio, she went out on a publicity date with a young actor named Bob Arthur. The magazines and newspapers printed so many shots of them together that she was embarrassed. “No more dates for publicity purposes or otherwise,” she decided. The great love Then things changed. Debra was twenty- one. And she was madly in love. There was a diamond ring on her finger, and a sparkle in her eyes greater than the light of any diamond. She wouldn’t say who the man was but she admitted, “I’m no longer dateless. I have been kissed thoroughly and delight- fully off screen as well as on. I have found the right man, and have fallen deeply and genuinely in love. He is won- derful and everything I have hoped for.” The man she loved was wealthy, older than Debra, and publicity-shy. When newspapermen besieged Debra and her mother for the details of their romance, her mother fiercely defended Debra’s right to keep the name of the man she loved a secret. “He doesn’t like pub- licity,” she said. “Please don’t print any- | thing about this romance, or it might end gpd youll leave Debra without a life- ra But it turned out that besides hating publicity, the man Debra loved was mar- riage-shy. Debra, who had believed that ' love and marriage went together like the proverbial horse and carriage, was heart- broken. She lost her man and went back to her dateless existence. She was surrounded by all the trappings _ of glamor, and by none of its realities. She drove around town in a pink Cadil- lac covered with hundreds of dollars worth of fake jewels. The car glittered and so did Debra. At home, she lived in splendor of a bizarre in 1 Beverly Hills, but actually she and father, her brother, Russell Shane, a young sister, a married sister and her hus- band and two children, and two dogs, a Siamese kitten, parakeets and even a chimpanzee. Debra's philosophy “I’m too busy for love,” she told friends. “Tll marry when I find a man I’m truly in love with and not marry just for mar- riage’s sake. The same thing goes for dating. I refuse to go places with a man just to go places.” If her laughter was a little shriller than before, her voice artificially gayer, her work far more frenzied, who was to know it but Debra and her mother? Who was to say that Debra wasn’t the happiest, luckiest girl in Hollywood? If she was carrying a flaming torch, no one saw it; she just laughed a little harder, and put more jewels on her Cadillac. A child she wasn’t. She proved it when she went to Las Vegas and wore such gasp- provoking gowns that the town began to wonder at this new Debra who was out- doing even Marlene Dietrich in glamor and daring. “Why haven’t you married?” they asked her. And Debra just smiled slowly. “Why, I haven’t found the right man. I’m not in a hurry.” Then David dropped in—and they felt, only two hours later, that they were in love. How explain Debra’s conviction that she was madly in love after only one date in Look Homeward, Angel, Anthony Perkins occupies the same _ up- stairs, unpainted dressing room he had when he last appeared on Broadway in Tea and Sympathy. In the intervening two and a half years Perkins starred in films cost- ing over $18,000,000. Leonard Lyons in the New York Post —so madly in love that she decided to marry him? “How does mother answers. ter of chemistry.” Good luck, Debra But is chemistry enough? Does the hot leaping of a young girl’s blood at the sight of the man she thinks right for her prove that he is right for her? Is the answer of the instincts enough for today’s teenagers? Or did Debra fall into the deadliest trap of all—mistaking infatuation for love be- cause she has dated so little that the sound of her own heart pounding seemed proof enough that she was in love. Perhaps, by happy accident, Debra, in one thrill-filled evening, felt a love that passes all understanding—a love that can survive everything—separation, different careers, competition and a long history of previous marriages on the part of the groom. It would be wonderful if this marriage overcame all obstacles. It would also be a miracle. David Street himself seems bewildered by the situation. “Debra is the most won- derful girl I’ve ever known,” he says. “My last marriage failed because it was too impulsive.” To objective observers, it might seem that this marriage is also more than a mite impulsive. Debra has been ready for love for a long time. Once she was denied the right to marry the man she loved, for his love was not great enough for marriage. This time, the wedding ring is on her finger, her heart is aglow with fervent feeling, and her head is in the clouds. ae pparhans this time it is enough to anyone know?” Debra’s “Perhaps it’s just a mat- as Gigi herself is Gogi ing singing love duets with Tony Martin. It's the Lerner-Loewe score from the great new movie. LERNER—LOEWE ® RcAVIcTOR Preyn SONGS FROM THE MOTION PICTURE GOGI GRANT 8s Reesse _ AN ARTHUR FREED PRODUCTION _ TONY MARTIN On Long Play and 45 Economy Package A New Orthophonic High Fidelity x @ RCA) VICTOR € VICTO! SMOOTHEST BOBBY PIN”’ Give your hair the sophisticated look by using Sta-Riie Cushion Tip...the bobby pin that won't pul! cs; the hair or hurt the head. Sold at all ee aic counters. Send 10c for hair styling charts. . . authentic techniques of famous hair stylists. STA-RITE Ginnie ‘Lou, Inc. 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ENLIGHTENING INTERVIEW AN @ Arthur O’Connell, the dashing, fortyish, supporting actor you’ve seen most recently in Picnic and Bus Stop, stopped off in New York for just one day. He was on his way to Kentucky, where he was to work in April Love, his new picture with Pat Boone, and he was in New York—to get his hair whitened! We found him plunked in a Fifth Ave- nue beauty salon under a drier and look- ing about as miserable as a man can look. Nevertheless, we began shouting ques- tions, but naturally he had a great deal of difficulty hearing us. The questions and answers went something like this: Q How do you like the script of your new picture ? A Ive never undergone this sort of treat- ment before. QI see that you worked with Pat Boone in April Love. A They put this doggone thing on with their fingers, not a spoon. Q You’re a good friend of Kim Novak. Has she ‘gone Hollywood?’ A No, Kim’s in New York for a few days. Q Are you serious about any one girl? A Of course I'm not delirious! The studio ordered me to sit under this contraption! Q You and Ernie Kovacs have worked to- gether a lot. What kind of a guy is Ern? A Id better not burn. Pll have my studio sue this blasted establishment! Q Did any gal ever steal your heart? A Yes, in the new film, ’'m to play a won- derful part. Q. Is Marlene Dietrich a has been? A What's that you say about sin? Q Can you give us a little thumbnail sketch of your friend, Marilyn Monroe? A Nails? I’m having a manicure soon. Q Which of your many supporting roles have you enjoyed doing the most? A Toast? Til be as burnt as toast soon. Q Do you think you'll get out of there alive? — A It’s five? I’ve got a date at five. Help, 4 get me out of here. Operator! ... Help! two ladies in the tub (Continued from page 39) welecome-home smile. She always hears our car come up the driveway and comes rushing out of her room, and she makes it very clear to us that there’s to be no dilly-dallying downstairs, that we’ve got to go right up and get and give our kiss and hug. So up I ran and we hugged and kissed and then we played a few minutes of ‘Mine!’ This is a game that had started a few weeks earlier when I’d given Kelly two pretzels—she loves ’em—and told her was for her and the other was for one her daddy. She’d promptly eaten hers, and then had started to munch on the other when Tony walked in and said, “Hey, that’s mine!” He pretended to try to take it away from Kelly, but she’d have none of this. “No,” she began to squeal and laugh and run around the room, all at the same time, “this mine...mine... mine!” This had since become a favorite game, for Kelly to take hold of anything, call it hers and go racing around the place—and on this particular night I’m telling about now she’d decided it would be a little pillow from her crib. When, after our miniature marathon, I managed to get hold of the pillow—or, I should say, tap it—and the game breath- lessly ended, I picked my daughter up and took her to her room and we proceeded to get ready for the big event of the day, Kelly’s bath. Actually I should say ‘bawth,’ because that’s the way Kelly says it. When Tony and I were in Europe last year shooting The Vikings with Kirk Douglas and Ernie Borgnine, we got an English nurse for Kelly. She was a lovely woman with a most lovely accent and the two words she said more than any others must have been ‘dahnce’ and ‘bawth.’ Because our little California-born Kelly, with a daddy from the Bronx and a mother from the heart of California, gets very uppity- sounding when it comes to dancing or bathing—sounds, .in fact, like a little debutante from Mayfair as we prepare for either of these events. Kelly's idea Anyway, preparations got under way on this night for her say-it-how-you-will, and it all began regularly enough with Kelly undressing herself, a process in which I help by unbuttoning her dress and unlacing her shoes and pulling her little socks off halfway. But then, after helping her put on her robe and giving her her towel and soap, and saying the time-honored phrase, “And now we go to Kelly’s bathinette and see the water’”—suddenly something happened. “No,” I heard this little voice from down below whisper up at me. “No bath?” I asked, looking down. Kelly smiled. “Yes—bawth,” she said. “But—with—you.” I looked over at the bathinette and laughed. “How could I fit....” I’d started to say. But Kelly didn’t need any slide rule- talk from her mother, that’s for sure. Be- cause she’d already let go of my hand and run to the door leading to my bathroom. She pointed to the tub. “Here,” she said, “we—take—bawth—here.” I could see how excited she was about the prospect of us bathing together and I thought it was a fine idea—an idea, by the way, that Tony later picked up with Kelly and who, on his early days off, now rushes home so that he can be in the tub with her first and have all the fun. So I said “All right,’ turned on the water, got undressed too and in we both went. ei eS Lid ct We had a ball, my baby and me. I re- member how first I turned her on her tummy and swished her back and forth for a while. For some reason she’s afraid when water splashes on her face and so, to rid her of this fear, ’d manage to get just a little sprayed on, kind of acci- dentally-on-purpose, and then laugh as though this were real fun and hope she’d laugh, too. Fortunately, she did. Then I remember how we played with her rubber dolly for a while—which made for three of us in the tub now—and this with the inevitable question-and-answer period that goes something like this: “Show Mommy where the dolly’s eyes are.” “Here.” “And her nose?” “Here.” “And her mouth?” “Here.” “And her tummy?” “Here.” “And now where’s Kelly’s tummy?” “Here!!’—the last accompanied by much tickling and splashing and a few more un- noticed sprays of water in the face. A good game Then it was cup-time, Kelly asking me by pointing if I wouldn’t be so kind as to please reach for one of Tony’s empty shaving mugs on the sink nearby so we could fill it, pour, fill it, pour. I got the cup and told Kelly that we could fill it, pour, all she wanted—as long as _ she didn’t ever pour anything on the floor. Kelly agreed and, great as the temptation was, kept her word. And then, I remember, we were in the midst of nursery-rhyme-time—Here We Go ’Round The Mulberry Bush and Rain, Rain Go Away are her water favorites— when suddenly she heard Tony’s car pull up the driveway and the shaving mug and the dolly and the games were forgotten and, in their place, came a round of laugh- ing shrieks for “Daddy ... Daddy... Dad- dy!” Daddy was upstairs in a matter of minutes, and when he saw the two of us in the tub he said, “Hey!”—just one word, “Hey!’’—and he turned around and rushed out. I knew what that “Hey!” meant and I called out, “Tony—Tony, you leave that camera where it is!” He was back in a second, camera in hand, ready to snap. “Tony,” I said, “what are you going to do?” “T want a picture of the baby in the tub,” he said, winking. “But there’s a big girl in the tub, too,” I said. “Aw, Janny, ” Tony said. Tony won't take no for an answer I know what a charge Tony gets out of q taking pictures of us all the time and how excited he was about this new pose. I gave one more try, though. “Tony,” I said, “my hair’s pinned up and I look. . . .” But half- way through he winked again and my words melted in my mouth and I sat Kelly up and I said, “Come on, Baby, Daddy’s going to take our picture.” For about ten minutes Tony snapped | away, playing director all the while. “All right, Kelly-honey,” he’d say, “now || give me the mean look.” And Kelly would pucker her little lips | and growl her little girl’s growl. “Now the surprised look,” Tony would say. And pop, the blue eyes would open. “Now the Phil Silvers look,” Tony would | then say. And now would come the big grin on he: face and the attempt to say “Glad

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a a TORT TE Ts ea aie And so this went on and on, until finally bath-time was over and Tony lifted Kelly out and dried and powdered her and put on her clean panties and pj’s while Mommy, after quickly taking care of = LSE Eee oe herself, went downstairs to see if Kelly’s dinner was ready. Dinner, as usual, was preceded by our nightly tour of the kitchen. Kelly is fas- cinated by the garbage disposal unit, so this is always Stop 1. Then Tony lifts her and holds her near the stove and Kelly stares in awe at the pots and seriously informs one and all that they’re “hot... hot.” My job next is to provide the great treat of the tour. That is, I open the re- frigerator door for a moment and Kelly sticks her head in and laughingly in- forms us that this is “cold... cold.” Then it was dinner-time—followed by play-time, an hour in which we run races in the den, sit and watch the people on the television set for a little while, and play with Merci, our tiny toy poodle. For a while, Merci was scared to death of Kelly. After all, a baby doesn’t exactly know the meaning of gentleness and I guess when Kelly tried to play with her Merci would think this is the end. But one night recently, a few nights before these pictures were taken in fact, Kelly was sitting on the rug eating one of her pretzels when a little piece fell beside her and I guess Merci figured this was for her, that Kelly was making a present of it—and ever since then she follows the baby around everywhere and they’ve been the best of friends. How we say good-night Then, play-time over with and the yawns beginning to take the place of smiles, we brought Kelly up to her room, sat her on her potty for a while, and then tucked her in her crib. I say “we” brought her up, but honestly I forget—because some nights Tony gets involved in something and says he’ll be up in a few minutes. At any rate, if it was one of those nights, you can be sure that as soon as I got Kelly into her crib she pointed to the inter-com on the wall and then phoned down her usual message: A special candle “Daddy? Hi. I ready. Hurry. Bye-bye.” At which point Tony came zooming up, Kelly kissed us good night and we all looked up at the ceiling and blew out the lights. Then, as a special extra, Tony lit a Christmas candle we keep on Kelly’s dresser and let her blow it out—all by herself. The candle has no special signi- ficance. We thought it would be cute to do one night and the baby got such a kick out of it that we do it all the time now. Later on, she’ll have her prayer to say. Then, on this particular night as on all nights, it was ‘Nighty-nighty’ and ‘Sleep tight’ and we left the room. I guess you expect this little story to end here, with the baby on her way to sleep upstairs and with both of us going back downstairs now, to sit back and read or relax with Tv or something. Well, it doesn’t. I started down, and I’d thought Tony was behind me. But suddenly I had the strange—and, as it turned out, very accu- rate feeling—that I was completely alone. I wondered for a moment. And then I knew. Tony was already in his dark-room, starting to develop these pictures you see of his baby and her mommy—taking their first ‘bawth’ together. END Janet and Tony will appear together in United Artists’ THe ViKincs and U-I’s THE PrerFEcCT FurRLoUGH. Tony will be in United Artists’ Kincs Go FortH. Janet is in U-I’s Jet Prtor and Toucu OF Evin. happy 25th wedding anniversary, perry and roselle (Continued from page 21) towels to the soot-laden faces of the coal miners of Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. He liked it well enough. A good respectable trade. But evenings—evenings were his own. Evenings he left the steamy shop, fled the sizzling streets. A friend of his had a dump truck—a glorious possession. When the sun went down and dinner was over, he would honk the horn in front of the Como house until Perry came out. “Where to?” Perry asked one evening. The friend leaned out the cab window. “Weenie roast. Got your guitar?” Perry nodded and they were off. Stuffed with good Italian spaghetti, it never oc- curred to them to be too full for frank- furters and rolls, sauerkraut and pickles. Half an hour later, the truck jammed with high school kids, they turned off into the woods and made camp by a creek. There they were joined by other kids from other high schools, from neighboring towns. They built a fire, left it to swim, and then returned to it to dry off and toast their food. There were all kinds of © kids in the crowd. There were the shy, love-struck ones who sat in the shadows, hand in hand. There were the ones who were the life of the party, howling with good humor, thrusting franks into the _ flames and charring them. __ And a girl named Roselle Bellini who _ laughed and chattered and was never very far from the center of things—and ‘|| who always, somehow, was the one to ' rescue the weenies just in time, and _ take into her own capable hands the rest of the cooking. Without, mind you, ceas- ing for _one second to laugh and chatter. And a little way away, at the edge of the circle, there was Perry, his dark hair falling over his forehead, strumming his guitar and singing. One by one, listen. One of the last to leave the gaity by the fire was Roselle—sparkling, brim- ming with life. But in the long, lazy evenings, it began to strike Perry that the group around him had an unfinished feeling until Roselle ambled over too, and lowered her laughing eyes, and fell silent. Portrait of Perry as a young man It would have surprised the good folk of Canonsburg to know that ‘that nice, quiet Como boy’ considered himself some- thing of a hell-cat at the age of fifteen. But it wouldn’t have surprised them at all to learn that from his place in the shadows he watched Roselle Bellini and thought about her and began to fall in love with her weeks and weeks before he got the courage to ask her out. After that, there’s nothing to tell them that could be a surprise to the neighbors —hbecause they saw it all. They sat on their front porches and nodded benignly when the Bellini girl and the Como boy strolled by, her hand on his arm, on their way to the center of town where Roselle would draw out her weekly half-dozen books from the lending library, and Perry would pore intently over sheet music for guitar and voice. 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7 i HOW ROBERT TAYLOR PROPOSED @ It was only a couple of years back... . Robert Taylor had seen enough of night- clubs; he was ready for a home-cooked meal. Ursula adored having him over for dinner—and cooking for him. At forty, Bob Taylor had been a big star long enough to see his name dragged through enough news- papers. He wanted privacy. Ursula gave him that too. Even though she could have boosted her own stock as a rising actress by giving interviews about hegself and Bob, she turned the press from her door and would say only that—‘‘We are friends.” At forty, and forty-one, and forty-two, Bob Taylor enjoyed the wonders of Ursula Thiess, and glowed with knowing that his mother loved her too. “She’s a lady,” his mother said of her —publicly, “a lady who’s been brought up to make a husband happy, who knows how to mend and garden and have babies.” But at forty-two, a man who’s had one marriage fail isn’t anxious to leap back into wedlock. He needs a nudge. Ursula gave him that nudge after he came back from Africa, where he had made Valley of Kings. When Bob came home, practically the first thing he did was telephone Ursula— would she have dinner with him that eve- ning? But at the restaurant, sitting across from her, Taylor’s courage left him. He had come home with his mind made up, but now he couldn’t think of the words for saying it to her, how much he loved her and wanted her to share his life with him. And then the smile faded from his face. It was then that a newspaper reporter walked up to their table. “Miss Thiess,” he said, “are you going to marry Mr. Taylor?” Ursula did not answer. But suddenly Bob smiled. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Let’s put a stop to all these questions about whether you're going to marry me or not,” he said. “Let me tell them you will marry me.” Ursula laughed. “All right,” she said, “you may tell them yes. But only if you ask me first,” she added. And then Bob asked her to marry him. Bob’s in MGM’s SappLteE THe Winp, and soon he'll appear in MGM’s THE Law 76 And JAKE WaADE. ae SS their ears to hear the sound of a little boy, Dee Bellini, racing upstairs to shout: “Roselle! Roselle! Your fella’s here again!” And they would joke, seeing the two of them together—Perry so quiet and slow-moving even then, Roselle so bubbly, her lips never still—they would say: “She’s the one with the barber’s temperament!” And, “I do declare—it is amazing the way opposites attract!” Amazing—yes. But to Roselle and Perry, at fifteen, it was the most natural thing in the world. They discovered in each other a wealth of riches that neither possessed alone. To Perry, Roselle was a princess out of a fairy tale—a princess in bobbed hair and middy blouse—utterly charming, utterly gay, drawing him out of himself, awakening his sense of humor, making him laugh, making him sing. And to Roselle, accustomed to the cheerful racket of a big house full of five chil- dren, there was a depth of peace and contentment in being with Perry that she had never known before. He made her a little less frantic, gave her time to look at herself, to think about life and what she wanted from it. To channel her tremendous energies and point them in one direction. A direction marked: Perry Como—this way. They knew very soon that they were in love. Love in a small town What happens to a boy and a girl in a little Pennsylvania town when they fall in love? Well, mostly they wait till they get out of high school, and then, if the Charles Lederer, who wrote and is directing James Cagney’'s starrer, Never Steal Anything Small, says double duty has its disadvantages. “I've sacrificed a director's great- est alibi," Lederer points out. “When a scene doesn’t play well, | can't say: ‘Those lousy writers are killing me." ™ Sidney Skolsky in the N. Y. Post boy has a trade, they get married and settle down. And surely no had a better chance than Perry and Roselle to do just that. In their last year in high, Perry worked after school in the barber shop, earning pocket money, perfecting his skills. Roselle would wait for him until closing time. Then the evenings were theirs to spend together. By the next year, seventeen years old and out of school, Perry was an incredible, unbelievable success. He had a shop of his own now, and the miners poured into it as if it were a saloon instead. The neighbors had been right—the Como boy wasn’t as talkative as folks expect a barber to be. But they had forgotten his other talents—and the fertile imagination of the Bellini girl. Perry Como was the only singing, gui- tar-playing barber in Canonsburg—and possibly in Pennsylvania! His take-home no longer amounted to pocket-money. It came to a hundred, a hundred and a quarter a week. Big, big money in 1929. Enough to remove any financial burden from his parents’ backs. Enough to treat Roselle to steak instead of hot dogs, take her dancing instead of swimming. Enough so that when the De- pression hit, devastating Canonsburg as it did the whole country, there was a backlog to carry the Comos through. A profitable business, indeed. So why weren’t they married? 1929 came and went, 1930, ’31, ’32. Pennsylvania got back on its feet. Roselle was no longer needed to help at home. Everything was perfect—except for one thing. Roselle, patiently getting Perry’s dinner in his one ever Bi z =f Dae a Bi hs: ee i mother’s kitchen and then watching it get cold on the table because Perry was late again, wasn’t sure that this was the life for either of them. Too much work When Perry hired first one and then another assistant, she regarded it less as a sign of prosperity than of his being over-worked. No amount of big money could make up for the tired rings under Perry’s eyes. This new life had everything —except fun. Except the satisfaction a woman feels knowing that her guy is doing what he loves to do, what is right for him. And what was right for Perry? Who knew? Ask Dee Bellini, Roselle’s little brother, now grown-up and an important member of the Como Enterprises, and he'll tell you—“Perry? Why, I wouldn’t say it was a case of Perry’s being worried about becoming a professional singer. It was more—he didn’t know if he was a singer!” Turn to the official biographies, and you are told that Perry’s friends urged him to audition for the Freddy Carlone band on a vacation in Cleveland. That as a joke, Perry did it. That in the same light- hearted spirit he gave up, having won the audition, $125 a week at home for $28 a week and a future of one-night stands. But read between the lines. A young man in love, wanting to get married, makes that kind of break for only one reason: his girl wants him to, his girl knows that deep down he wants to do it. That was spring, 1933, when Perry left with the band. In July Roselle took a bus to Cleveland to spend a day with him. There, she looked for herself at what Perry had described with such worry: the sort of barren, cheap hotels he lived in now, the bus he traveled in with the band, the meagre amount of groceries that $28 would buy. And there, the girl who had turned down comfort and tran- quility at home with the joyful knowledge that this was right, this was fun—there she married her guy. The next day they went back to Can- onsburg. While Roselle went home to tell her folks and pack a bag, Perry went to his house. Look, Ma “IT walked into the kitchen, and I said, “Ma, I’ve got something to tell you.’ And she took one look at me and said, ‘You don’t have to tell me anything. I know. You got married. Happy? I guess next to Roselle and me, she was the happiest person in the world. Why not? Roselle was like a daughter to her.” With rice tumbling out of their hair, they rejoined the band. And for three years the Bellini gaiety, the Bellini laughter brightened buses and cheap hotels and hamburger dinners, while Perry built up a name in the Cleveland area. And then one night in 1936, he came home with news. The Ted Weems band wanted him— at a stupendous $50 a week. It was a bigger band, a bigger chance. been rugged with the Carlone band, it would be a hundred times more so with Weems. Weems played the whole country. “How wonderful!” said Roselle, starting But—if life had ' na Sy os Se ee = S55 — = A ce S| ~ Sex Sa =e: to pack...packing for the next seven | years. “And in all that time,” people asked * Wy Perry, “didn’t she ever complain, ever 4 want to quit?” Perry would roar with laughter. ‘“Roselle—complain? Listen, you don’t know my wife. f iM I mean—this is | a woman. She doesn’t let you know every * little thing that goes on through her | She enjoys. mind—she laughs. I was the one who doesn’t complain. worried.” The Weems band was in Chicago when. No, she ca a their first child, Ronnie, was born. That {4

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| was 1940—seventeen years ago. Most girls ' in 1940 didn’t have babies one day and | spring out of bed to care for them the next. Usually, their folks were there to help out for a while, to be at the hospital, to | take over the housework. But Canons- ' burg, Pennsylvania was a long way from Chicago in 1940. Roselle had her baby without benefit of family—and spent her time telling a frantic Perry that it was “all right, honey,” while he agonized. | We didn't worry... _ And when, three months later, the Bell- inis were finally able to get together the time and the requirements for a good- sized trip to see their new relative— everything was fine. The long engage- | ment in Chicago had given the Comos what was almost a home—an apartment ' with a baby in it. Looking back now, Dee Bellini says, “Sure it was rough some of the time. They didn’t have everything ' by a long shot. But Perry—he was sing- ing. And Roselle was always an adven- | turous girl. We didn’t go away worried from our visit to them. They were having a ball.” | They didn’t know what was to come. They might have worried if they had. For | Ronnie was scarcely six months old when | { | the next big break came along. The Weems band was to play New York—the Strand Theatre. And on the same bill was Ann Sheridan, The Oomph Girl. This | was big-time—the biggest. This was the | time for Perry Como to be heard in New York. And he came home to the apart- ment and looked around at the clutter of baby things, the bassinette, the crib, the drying diapers—and shook his head, telling Roselle about it. Red Buttons—gray now—dyes his hair red for TV! ... Earl Wilson | | 1 | in the New York Post “We can’t take a baby in a bus... .” Roselle studied him for a moment. “Well,” she said slowly, “I suppose Ronnie and I could stay here—” Perry’s head jerked up. They had known each other for thirteen years, been married for seven. And they had been together for all of them. “Are you nuts?” said Perry. “No soap. I’d rather not go.” It was the answer Roselle had been wanting. Having gotten it, she discarded it and settled down to business. She took out a piece of paper. “Listen, honey, I have an idea... .” The next day Perry bought a car. He and Roselle ripped out the back seat. Long before Nash thought of it, the Como’s had the first auto in the country with a bed in the back. And on that bed, tucked in securely, safe from bumps, cooing cheer- fully, Ronnie Como rode to New York with his parents. And from New York to the midwest, and back to Chicago, and to California and Texas. Perry drove, and Ronnie gurgled, and Roselle heated his bottles on the hood over the boiling en- ‘gine. They crossed the desert, and Roselle piled ice into insulated bags and air- conditioned the car for her husband and baby. And in every big city in the coun- try, Ronnie Como was pronounced by doctors: thriving, growing, happy. | What a little boy needs | You won’t get Perry Como to talk about ‘what finally called a halt to the ball. Maybe it was because in 1942 Ronnie was two years old, and a two-year-old boy doesn’t need a bed even though it’s a comfortable one that’s rigged up for him the _car—he needs a yard to run in, friends to play with, a house in which to put down roots. Maybe it was because the Ted Weems band was break- ing up, and a married man with a family needed security. Or maybe it was simply because one day he caught Roselle looking at a copy of House and Garden—and for once, her eyes weren’t laughing. It doesn’t really matter what it was. Whatever the reason was, in 1942 Perry Como started looking for another barber shop to buy in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania so he’ could give his wife and child what they had not had, what for love of him they had never asked for—a home. And _ while he was dickering over terms for a likely- looking location, while he was practicing his shaving stroke and trying to remember what it felt like not to sing—the miracle happened. CBS radio wanted him for a sustaining show at $100 a week, and RCA Victor wanted him to make records. It meant that they could live in New York, rent a house, put down roots—and _ it meant that Perry could sing. It meant that luck was with them, that miracles still happen—or maybe it meant that the world is not entirely topsy-turvey after all, and nice people do sometimes come out on top. It has been quite a few years since Roselle Bellini Como has had to darn socks on a bus or heat baby bottles on a car motor. Ronnie, the well-traveled infant, is away from home again now—in Notre Dame. Roselle and Perry have two other children, David and Terry, but they are growing up, not in hotel rooms but in a beautiful home in Long Island—a home to make up for all the years of homeless- ness. And every night a good-looking, exceedingly rich, exceedingly popular forty-ish man comes home to her there. Perry sums it up Ask Perry Como what Roselle means to him after twenty-five years of marriage. And in this, his twenty-fifth year as her husband, he will tell you, “Oh—I can’t give you an answer, just like that. There are lots of things. Like—she takes care of me. Of everything. I leave in the morn- ing and I know when I come home at night—things will be the same—good, quiet—the way we like them. She does that. She can do everything—the mar- keting and the cooking and bringing up the kids—and do it well. “And when I come home—well, after twenty-five years, we don’t tell each other every tiny thing. She doesn’t tell me how many times David didn’t come when she called, and I don’t necessarily tell her which camera loused up which scene today. But—we’re together. We sit and talk or we watch television—it’s good to sit quietly with someone you love, to be together. What can I tell you about her? She’s a strict mother. She says no, and the kids know it’s no. But loving—well, Ronnie’s away in college now, you know. And he wrote home he caught cold. Well —my wife practically ate her heart out over it. Who’s going to give him his aspirin? Who’s going to see he covers up his throat? I mean, what can I tell you about a woman like that? [I'll tell you this—she’s there. That’s it about Ro- selle. She’s always, always there.” And always, always will be. For this is a woman who doesn’t need what she doesn’t have to keep a man—even a famous man, to make a marriage last for twenty-five years. A woman who gives soa ly of two things: love, and her- self. We said at the beginning this was just a simple love story. That’s all it is. And as such, it gets a simple ending, but in this case an ending as true as true can be.... 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HOW REALISTIC CAN YOU GET? @ Shelley Winters longed to play before live audiences. The green-eyed blonde with the forthright manner got her chance in the Broadway hit. 4 Hatful Of Rain. When this highly dramatic play first opened, Shelley noticed that, during an especially moving scene. there were pecu- liar, distracting noises coming from the audience. The scene had Shelley—about to become a mother—seizing the hand of her stage husband and pressing it to her body, so that he might catch the move- ments of her unborn baby. Afterward, Shelley asked the stage manager about the strange noises she’d heard. “You mean those snapping sounds?” he asked, looking amused. The actress nodded. “Why.” he explained. “those are the women in the audience taking hanker- chiefs out of their pocketbooks and snap- ping ’em shut. As long as you hear those sounds you've got nothing to worry about!” junie on the spot (Continued from page 34) adored cook- ing for six or sixty hungry people. Q: Who are your best friends? June: Two small people named Pam and Ricky. I feel if you can’t be friends with your kids, what good is anything? Oh, I’m strict with them. But I’m strict only because I want them to be liked. Many times Ill chastise one of them and then go to my room and cry. But sometimes it’s got to be done. Like one time when Ricky was planning to have lunch with the carpenter who works for us. It’s a big treat for him. But he was a bad boy that morning and I had to forbid him to go. Well, he sobbed and sobbed. It took all the strength I have to stop myself from wiping the tears from his eyes and send- ing him off to his lunch treat. But I didn’t. And the next day—well, it would make a better story to tell you he was bad the next day. But he was as good as gold. And he even forgave me. Q: How about you, June? Are you sen- timental? June: Are you kidding? Everything makes me melt. I’m soft-hearted Sally, a sitting duck. Richard (Sr., that is) claims that I cry at the commercials on television. But that hasn’t been proved yet. Richard is sentimental too. But you'll never get him to admit it. Q: Do you think marriage to Dick has changed you in any important ways? June: Yes. In at least one very important way. I’m not so selfish any more. When Ft eatin, =f oO ake, omeshate foothold, I guess I thought so leng and so hard about myself and my life that it got to be a real habit. But in marriage you've just got to think of the other person. You give up things that you wanted very much, by adjusting to your husband. And then, suddenly, you find you didn’t really want those things at all. What you really want is a happy husband. Q: What’s the nicest gift you ever re- ceived from your husband? June: That’s an easy one to answer, but you may find the answer a little odd. It’s nothing frilly, or feminine or the least bit romantic. Last Monday was our anniver- sary and Richard gave me my heart’s de- sire: a big, large, gigantic, new refrigerator! Q: That’s a nice small dream to have come true. Have you had any big dreams come true lately? June: Yes. When I was a little girl I wanted more than anything else to be— not a nurse, like most girls, but a doctor. But we never had enough money. And, do you know what? My brother lives with us now, in a cottage near the house and he’s going to medical school. So, in a way, it’s my old dream coming true. Not for me, but for my brother. Q: Is there a big dream hidden away somewhere right now? June: The answer to that is emphatically yes! Except it’s not hidden very well. want more than anything else to be able to sing, really sing! And with more lessons and some patience from my family while I practice, Ill do it! I want to fulfill all the talents I neglected when I was a kid. I started out as a singer- dancer. People forget that and are so surprised when I’m mentioned for a mu- sical picture. I know it sounds funny but quiet Mrs. June Powell was a chorus girl in New York years ago. Q: What was the most awful day of your life? June: Hmmm. I won’t say it was the most awful, but the day I have in mind was the saddest. It was Christmas Eve and I had just gotten a job in a Broad- way show. And on Christmas, I lost the job. I went down to the bus stop the next day and saw the company off with real tears in my eyes. It was like an un- happy ending to a fairy tale. It was even snowing as I waved good-bye to the com- pany. Q: Doesn’t that make Christmas a pretty sad memory? June: No siree. Because some years later, after little June came to Hollywood, mar- ried and lived happily ever after—she had a child. A boy named Ricky. And he was born on Christmas Eve. All during my pregnancy I used to joke with Richard saying, “I’ll give you a Christmas present no one can match.” And I wanted to give birth at Christmas time so very much that I really think I kind of willed it to hap- pen just at the right time. My doctor doesn’t go along with this theory. I do. Q: How about the size of your family? Will you leave it at the status quo, or have more children? June: I like good-sized families. In fact right now I’m trying to talk Richard into having more children. Two more. But Dick is reluctant because he has two kids from a former marriage you know. And, from his point of view, he feels maybe a total of four is enough. But I haven’t given up the campaign yet. Q: June, have you ever lost hope com- pletely? Ever given in to despair? June: No, I’ve always been able to see my way out of .. . No, I’m wrong. There was one time. When Richard (Sr.) al- He was in the bedroom with me when he suddenly collapsed on the jj floor with a burst appendix. E Somehow (Ill never know how), I! managed to drag him to the bed and call ’’ ( the doctor. I lost twenty pounds in the |" first four days he was in the hospital. "|" They’d given him up for dead. I stayed /}" there day and night until finally one of ” mt the Sisters at the hospital sent me home }. to change my clothes. As soon as I got’ i to the house the phone rang. It was the {" hospital. I was to come back right away. They’d given Richard the last rites. a | I tell you, I didn’t cry any more, or} pray any more. I was drained of every-/|j' thing. There was nothing left inside of E el me to go on living. Four weeks later, '}! thanks to God and Dick’s own good} i strength, they brought him home almost '}# well. Then I cried, finally, and prayed '\}" in gratitude. | i Q: People have said you're a very tem- |} peramental star. Is that true? abe June: Absolutely not; I do not go flounc- jp ing off sets and throwing dresses at peo-}iii ple. I don’t know how that got started, jl but people used to write these things}jy about me. Then when I showed up on; the set of a new picture everybody ex-|4u pected me to be impossible to work with. I’ve had prop men and make-up people; come to me and apologize for the ideas! they’d had about me. vais Q: How about the fact that some people te (probably the same ones) have said that}. youre a—dare we repeat it?—scatter-\}}., brain? ‘ June: That’s an easy one to answer. Once, again I think that’s a fantasy based on a4 , few parts I’ve played in movies. The, i same as the “Girl In The Peter Pan Collar”); idea. I’m level-headed, not scrambled- T brained, and next week I’m going to} a party and I'll wear a lovely dress. ii Q: Do you have an ideal image of the i kind of woman you admire, would want} to be like? ine June: My ideal has always been Ingrid}! Bergman, whom I’ve kind of worshiped; from afar. Also, Ginger Rogers. And}? Ginger is now my very good friend. ipo 4 I Q: What do you think is a woman’s best ] friend .. . her greatest need? ia June: (WITH A BROAD GRIN) A great big)fr large, gigantic, new . . . refrigerator. a Q: Every public figure, especially a movies , star, is often the center of a lot of con+jj jecture . . . some true, some false. What do you most wish people would stop}, thinking, saying and writing about you4j; June: (Soberly) Most of all I wish thathj people would stop saying that Richard anc I are breaking up again. It’s fantastic), really. A while ago, Richard and I had aj; sort of second honeymoon. We went tc}, Honolulu and had a sun-drenched, ro-}, mantic holiday to end all sun-drenchec}}; romantic holidays. Then, in the middle o: the night, suddenly the phone rang. Rich-J ard answered. It was my agent. ‘h, “Tisten,” he said to Dick, “I’m sorry tad wake you, but there have been reports} that you and June are in Honolulu tojf) gether but that you're living at separate}, hotels.” ‘de Richard scrubbed his eyes sleepily an answered, ‘Well, there’s a bed next te mine. And in that bed there’s a blonde }j I think I recognize the hair . . . one min»}j ute while I check the face. Yep, 1 my wife June all right. So I guess somei| body must be wrong.” ity And whoever’s wrong it’s not Richaro} and me. Because we're right. We're ah right as two people can be. June will be appearing in U-I’s Anp Rin}} A TIGER. +) ee ial

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| we waited five years || (Continued from page 49) every day from the New Year asking them if they were | being married on January 29th, when the || divorce of Paul’s wife, Jackie Witte New- | man, became final. They lied, these two attractive and pas- sionate rebels, because the moment was s> ||important to them. They had waited five years for it, try- jing to kill their love and only increasing j\it; trying to keep thousands of miles be- ‘tween them, and continually coming to- i gether again; seeking out others to love, : and forgetting them because they could \j;only remember one another—Paul New- (};man, the married man and father, and | Joanne Woodward, the finely brought- -up, |sensitive girl who recoiled from the posi- ltion of being the other woman. Never once in those five long years had |\they permitted an informal picture to be ‘\;taken of them together. Never once in -\\the five years have they been seen out |}alone together—and this in a town where S|/romances are staged for publicity and n|;many a girl telephones many a man she *\'has never met and sets up a red-hot date. Call it old-fashioned, if you will. Call &|/it idealism, as it has been with Joanne and 8};Paul. Call it crazy that so fierce was thc‘r '|'wish never to trade on the dream between ,|(them that they wouldn’t even consent to |ibeing in a film together until Paul’s ‘wife had filed the divorce. And even when \|the moment came on January 29th and ‘|\\they stood before District Judge Frank McNamee in Las Vegas and heard the \|words that pronounced them man and |\|wife, even then they had no photographs ‘||/taken, no newsmen present. ‘|| This was their love finally come to frui- ; ition. \It all began... They had fallen in love at their first meeting, back stage in New York, in 1953, hen the twenty-two-year-old Georgia girl and the twenty-eight-year-old hand- jsome war veteran, so recently graduated from Yale, were cast as understudies for ‘|/Ralph Meeker and Janice Rule. Back there in 1953, Joanne Woodward wasn’t the slim blonde girl you see on jsereen now. Her slim, dynamic appear- ance was to come later, actually in Holly- '|\wood, on one of her many trips, which she ‘made flying away from Paul, determined ito put him out of her life altogether. Neither was Paul the charming, assured young man you see on screen now. He l!iwas a very troubled young man, trying to hal iget a foothold in an incredible world which are had loved from childhood but which e wasn’t sure he could make into a pro- jaifession for himself. His wife was all Bpeainst it—its insecurities, its rowdy at- 0-'mosphere—even though she had met him idl hrough the theatre. afi He “had enlisted in the Navy, shortly ‘after Pearl Harbor, and had been sent to |!Yale for the V-12 program. Yale discov- ‘tered he was color-blind and he became a wiiradio men, third class, riding torpedo {planes in the Pacific for three years. But ateven while he was at Yale the acting bug -\ihe had had ever since childhood re- adiinfected him: even in wartime, they were having drama classes at the college. | Later, out of uniform, restless as most Oys were under those circumstances, aul enrolled in Kenyon College. He told ne-+himself he would major in economics. He |@id, too. But he also starred in ten cam- ag pus plays. After he graduated, he thought ie could safely give himself a couple of Hiaonths in a summer stock company be- fore pe settled down to the serious busi- up athe a small stock com- pany playing at Williams Bay, Wisconsin— and met a pretty girl named Jackie Witte. Paul and Jackie were cast opposite one another in John Loves Mary. It was the most natural thing in the world that they should translate that into Paul loves Jackie. They were married in December of 1949. At almost the same time, Paul’s father died—in Cleveland, where Paul had been born and brought up. His very success- ful sporting goods store was there, need- ing a manager. It was a ready-made job for Paul. So he took it. The first son There actually wasn’t much else he could do. He and Jackie were expecting a baby, their son Scott. Paul had always loved sports. And with his personality, he was a natural sales- man. But the dream of acting stayed with him. It made no sense—a couple of years later, when he and Jackie were expecting their second baby—that he should pull up stakes and go back to Yale. But he did. It was a compulsion. With Jackie and Scott and the baby-to-be, he went back to Yale’s drama school and to the friends he had made during the war years. With his looks, the distance from Yale in New Haven to tv in New York was a mere stroll. From the moment he showed his face in the casting offices, Paul Newman was hot and he did show after show after show. Ginger Rogers sat with Ethel Mer- man at the Harwyn Club and men- tioned her night-club debut at the Havefia Riviera. "You'll find this out, about working in night clubs," Miss Merman warned her, "there'll always be someone at a back table complaining he can't hear a word you're singing—while you hear every word he's complaining." Leonard Lyons in the New York Post The money wasn’t big but it was more than the sporting goods store paid him. He took a place down on Long Island for himself and his family. But it wasn’t folksy as had been Cleveland, the old home town, the old home acquaintances. That didn’t matter to Paul anyway. He was living in another world, the world of theatrical excitement, of dreams, of hopes. To Jackie it mattered terribly. She hated the insecurity of it, the wildness of it. And while people in the tv studios were always flocking around Paul, telling him how spectacular his success would be.... Jackie stayed down on Long Island, aloof from such an atmosphere. Paul meets Joanne Less than six months after he had left Yale, Paul was signed as understudy for the stage production of Picnic. There he met Joanne Woodward. Once a show has opened, the under- studies have nothing to do. Nothing to do but sit backstage and hope, and talk and talk and talk. Their minds fell in love long before their hearts did. The most enduring loves often start this way, mind meeting mind, compatibility meeting compatibility, en- thusiasm igniting enthusiasm. It was this way with Joanne and Paul. Night after night, as they talked and talked and talked, they told themselves they were nothing but friends. Very fine friends. Wonderful friends. Only Joanne was such an unusual girl. _And Paul was such an unusual fellow. GET RID of Dark or Discolored Skin, Freckles, . Blotches, Skin Spots! Famous Mercolized Wax Cream 17 NIGHT PLAN Lightens, Clears Skin While You Sleep... ; Just follow the amazing Mercolized Wax Cream 7 NIGHT PLAN to awhiter,softer, lovelier skin. Smooth rich, luxurious Mer- colized Wax Cream on your face or arms just before retiring each night for one seats You’ll begin to see results almost at once... dark skin lightens, Banish dark | blotches, spots, freckles disappear skinand ugly | as if by magic! 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“KID, YOU’VE GOT TALENT.”’’ @ “Kid, you got talent,” said the plump, well-dressed man as he bit on his dollar cigar. “But you got to get off that dreamy kick. When you sing for me I want the i hell sung out of a sung. Beit it right down their throats.” The ‘kid’ was about twenty. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short. He had large velvet eyes, a shock of Italian- black hair and high cheekbones. He wasn’t handsome either. And though his waiter’s uniform—the smallest the restaurant owner could find—hung loosely on his gaunt frame, he wasn’t as frail as you might think. But to the casual observer the ‘kid’ was just about as unimpressive as the cup of coffee he was setting down before the big man. “T don’t know what you mean by belting it out, Sir,” the kid replied. “Louder. kid, louder. That’s what I mean. Now you sing here in this joint every night. Instead of that sick-cow symphony stuff you hand ’em, you ought to give ’em a few jazzy numbers. Make ’em tap their feet. Make ’em happy! You don’t want to be a singing waiter all your life, do you?” “Well, not exactly,” the kid replied. ‘“‘But I don’t think I ought to sing that—that— well, whatever you called it. I don’t feel that kind of music inside.” The fat man got up. “Kid, the one thing you got to learn in show business is to do what you’re told. Now I book singers. I know what people go for. You'll never get no place by singin’ only what you feel. You young guys are all alike. Think you know everything. Why you couldn’t get a job with a fourth-rate band, now, could you?” The kid shook his head slowly. “There. You see what I mean? Take my advice, kid. Get some hot licks in your throat and you might amount to something.” The big man threw a dime on the table and left. One man, in a far corner of the room watched the kid as though he were planning something. When the boy passed his table, he called him over. “IT heard what that loud-mouth told you a few minutes ago,” said the man. “Forget him. I’ve been by three or four times in the last month and I think you’re getting better. You’ve got a kind of funny little slide in your voice. Don’t lose it. Stick to the songs you feel, no matter what anybody tells you. I’m a musician, a horn man. But I’m forming a band of my own. How’d you like to front the male side for me?” “Mister you just name the time and the place. I’ll be there! 17? “Hey, wait a minute,” the man hollered to the kid as he headed for the phone to call his mother, “how will I bill you? What name are you going to use?” The kid yelled back, “Just call me Frankie! Frank Sinatra! What’s yours?” “T’ve got two first names,” the man laughed. “Put ’em together and call me Harry James.” Frank can now be seen in Columbia’s Pat Jory and will soon be in United Artists’ Kincs Go Fort. As people falling in love with one an- other always discover... . For instance, Paul discovered the first dollar Joanne had ever earned was when she swiped jonquils out of her family’s backyard and sold them in the front yard for five cents a bunch. By the time she was six, she was directing and starring in front-porch shows and dragging people in off the Georgia streets and charging them a nickel for watching. She was just twenty-one when she had broken into tv in New York, on no less than a Robert Montgomery show. She had graduated from the Neighborhood Playhouse Dra- matic School a mere two weeks before, and there she was, earning $300 for a very few minutes’ work. But she had handicaps to overcome. There was, Joanne told Paul, nothing worse than being a shy Southern girl, a Georgia girl who didn’t want to be a belle , or a flirt. She had an accent she had to get rid of, and she hoped to cure her ter- rible thriftiness that wouldn’t let her ever throw anything away, made her go te _shops and see the $500 dresses and come $n td J ae = a 2 - oy a lars, and which let her know more ways to prepare left-over foods than he could possibly believe. Such foolish things Joanne told Paul, back stage, night after night. Just talking Paul told her his dreams, his theories about acting, about his wife, his son, about how he had loathed the sporting goods business. He told Joanne how he hated ordinary sociability—like cocktail parties, for instance. She hated them too. He said, if he ever got a movie offer, he didn’t think he’d like Hollywood. Joanne said she already had movie offers, but she didn’t think she’d like Hollywood either. And so on and on and on. They had excitements to share, too, these two eager people. There were those rare but wonderful nights when they ac- tually went on, standing in for Ralph Meeker and Janice Rule. Sometimes it would be Paul’s evening, when Joanne would be off-stage, just the understudy. Sometimes it was her evening, and there were a te of memorable times when By the time Picnic closed in the summer of 1954, Paul Newman and Joanne Wood- ward knew what had happened to them. They had fallen in love. Being honorable people, they were in a panic about it. It was Joanne who did something about ' it. She decided to take a vacation in Hol- | lywood. She bought herself a round- trip tourist ticket and hoped she could | forget New York. That’s what she told | herself, forget New York. She meant to | forget Paul Newman. She tried to wear herself out so that | she would sleep at night and not dream of him. She did seven tv shows in suc- cession in New York in less than seven weeks, then came to Hollywood and did three—but that took three months, three lonely, bitter months. She went back to New York and be- came engaged to a charming man who is | still one of her best friends. But 20th- Fox had seen her last tv show, sent for | her and signed her. That began her series of treks back and forth across the coun- try. She kept turning down scripts and | once, for a test, she arrived in Holly- || wood on Thanksgiving Day; she didn’t | know a soul in town and ate her dinner alone in a drug store. | E Forgetting at all casts I} When she heard that Paul Newman was | coming to Hollywood for The Silver'| Chalice she rushed back to New York. She tried to get out of her film contract— but they wouldn’t release her. She tagged |! herself a rebel with a clause, broke her engagement to the nice man, got herself !}? engaged to another nice man, and a little! later broke that. There is one thing about being a name. i} i News is printed about you. jl Joanne, after The Silver Chalice was! d finished, could easily discover from the |} theatrical news just where Paul was—and || try not to be there. So when he returned |} to New York late in December, 1954, she | left for Hollywood, accepting the script of | Count Three and Pray. Then she made|| A Kiss Before Dying. This brought 28) Hy up to 1955. i i} ily A small world i And 1955 brought Paul to Hollywood}}|; again, to make The Rack. On a sound)||| stage Joanne and Paul ran into one an} other. He hadn’t seen her with her new blonde | hair. He hadn’t seen her slimmed down to 108 pounds, and looking svelte and so-|j|j phisticated in her new Hollywood ward-\j}J robe—and_ the happiness blazing on herjj) face at sight of him made it almost impos-3}} sible for him not to take her into his arms)}}; then and there. Ah But again they tried, this time living ini}, the same curious small town. They care-}}) fully avoided each other. It wasn’t until)j, very late in 1956 that Jackie Witte New-| man agreed to a separation, and it was a full year after that before Joanne andij; Paul ever went out to a party together, |i; even let their names become “an item.” * {jj They are giving themselves a _ two-jji months honeymoon in Europe, where neither of them has ever been before} Their house is being built, and there just, may be a chance that it will be readly for’; them to move into on their return. Iti}} won’t matter to Joanne and Paul too, i much if it isn’t. For now they can be together, openly; and freely, eating Joanne’s marvelous cooking, reading, talking, listening to a | ords, being in love. Forever, they believe.... END+4) Joanne and Paul are together in 20th-4: Fox’s THE Lonc, Hot Summer. Paul will appear in MGM’s Cat On A Hor Tiny Roor, and for Warner Bros. in THE Lert-'}i h SANDED aan bow AIK

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La eet ee Oe \for her playmates. the shocking life of brigitte bardot (Continued from page 23) tragic secret that made Garbo, still young, become a recluse, give up movies, refuse to wear make-up or even walk in the streets with- out heavy black veils over her lovely face. That is the fear that made Claudette Col- bert, ordinarily the most obliging of wom- en, a demon in front of the cameras— fighting for just the right angle, just the right profile, until she was the gossip of New York and Hollywood. That is the reason—the only reason—behind Marilyn Monroe’s famous latenesses; she spends those extra hours before her mirror, des- perately applying make-up to what she | considers a disfiguring ‘bump’ on her nose, arranging and rearranging her hair to cover her “bad, bad face.” And that is | why Kim Novak permits herself to be criticised, even laughed at, for the long | minutes she spends staring at herself in any mirror she happens to pass, why she cannot seem to tear herself away from her own image, gazing back with fear-filled eyes. And it is that which has made Brigitte Bardot, the youngest and most desired of them all, a divorcée, a self-styled “shocker,” and an attempted suicide at the age of twenty-three... . This is her story. Brigitte Bardot was born in Paris. There | were, it is true, more beautiful babies born that day, but if her parents were disap- pointed they hid it well. They had, besides, other things to think about. Papa was a manufacturer, concerned greatly with the technical problems involved in marketing | liquid oxygen. Mama, who operated a dress shop and was known, even in Paris, for her personal chic, was pleased to be get- ting her excellent figure back. There was /no lack of money, no lack of care for Brigitte. She was to have the best of every- thing. But something was wrong. As Brigitte grew from baby to little girl, even the best hairdresser couldn’t get her lank blonde hair to curl. The best dentist could only report that there was no infection in her gums that gave her bottom lip that swollen look. She was born that way, and that was all there was to that. Make the best of it Mama and Papa sighed philosophically. It appeared that little Brigitte would never be a credit to the dress shop, clothed in blue velvet, showing off to the customers. It appeared that Papa had better keep his photos of his baby daughter in the desk drawer when important clients visited his offices in the factory. But so what? She was still their daughter, still their Brigitte, and they loved her. She would always know that, and nothing else would matter. But it is hard to keep the facts of life from a child, even when you insulate her in an elaborate nursery and make sure her nurse finds only the finest children It‘s hard to keep a little girl from creeping off into a dark corner to torture a stray lock of hair ‘around a dampened finger, praying that just once it will curl like Shirley Temple’s. It’s hard to keep a little girl from looking at her face in the mirror instead of at the pretty dresses Mama brings home—look- ing and looking—and turning away in hate. ' She grew up lonely and frightened. The world, to her, was full of pretty girls— and she was the only ugly duckling. She hid her scared eyes behind glasses. She .|,;envied the others, the handsome and as- jsured youngsters she played with, so ih beae that she couldn’t bear to be with them. “I detest them all!” she said angrily lwhen Mama, concerned. asked h he was home so much when other girls were roller-skating, tea-partying together. “I like to stay home. So I’m lazy—so what?” But Mama was not to be deceived for- ever. It was not good for a child to be always indoors, brooding. “I do not mind what you choose to do,” she told Brigitte finally, “but you must do something to get out of the house, be with people. Per- haps you would like to take a course. Singing? Painting? Dancing? I give you your choice, ma chére. But you must pick something, and do it.” Brigitte couldn’t draw, and she knew it. The idea of singing, standing up before rows of staring eyes, was too horrible to contemplate. But dancing—that wasn’t so bad. There would be a whole crowd making the same movements, and she would perhaps be at the end of the line where no one would notice her. So, at the age of ten, Brigitte Bardot bought her first tutu and ballet slippers— and walked in them into a new world. Unaccustomed joy The obvious had happened. She had discovered her body. And that—oh, that was quite a different matter from her swollen-lipped face. Even at ten, her body had grace. Her body had charm. Her body could do things that Brigitte had never dreamed of—twirl, leap, bend, soar! Far from hiding her at the end of a line, her teacher dragged her out to the center of the floor over and over again. “Watch how la petite Mlle. Bardot does it,” he would admonish the other children. And Brigitte, her face flushed with an unaccustomed joy, would float as if she wore invisible wings on her straight little back. When she was thirteen she, and a hundred and fifty other girls, took the test for entrance into the National Con- servatory of Music and Dancing. For the next week, her parents walked almost on tiptoe around the house—the slightest harsh word would send Brigitte into ner- vous tantrums, the suspense had her so keyed up. At the end of the week, Mama walked into the old nursery—now Bri- gitte’s bedroom—and found her daughter in tears on the bed, an official-looking letter crumpled in her hand. Madame Bardot clucked her tongue sympathetically and reached out to take her daughter in her arms. “There, there. You'll try again next year—you’ll pass next year.” But the face Brigitte raised to her was radiant below the tears. “I did pass! Seven other girls and me!” The tears were of joy. She was going to be a ballerina! For the next two years she lived and breathed dancing. And at school she was still tongue-tied Brigitte, sure she was being laughed at behind her back, snickered at whenever she stood up in class to answer a ques- tion, because of “my ugly face.” But at the Conservatory—there she was La Bar- dot, star pupil. There no one looked at her face—their eyes followed her flashing, graceful body as it whirled through in- tricate routines. There her body was queen. When she was fifteen her parents finally gave in to her pleas—they allowed her to drop out of her academic courses and concentrate entirely on dancing. And so, for a while, she was happy. But then a strange thing suddenly hap- pened. “I need money,” said Brigitte Bardot to one of the girls at the school. Why, she OPPORTUNITIES FOR YOU For rates, write COMBINED CLASSIFIED 529 W. Madison, Chicago 6 OF INTEREST TO WOMEN (CW-M8) $10.00 GUARANTEED PER 1000 Pieces Addressed & Mailed —Free Mailing Pieces, Names & Stamps Given Also. Send 25c—Postage & Handling. 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eee And. that night ““You oughta be in Movies,”’ the producer said... @ There’s a true Cinderella story of a world-wide search for a girl to co-star with Marlon Brando in WARNERS’ Sayonara —which ended in Hollywood’s own back yard. Producer William Goetz, director Josh- ua Logan and Solly Baiano, WARNERS’ talent executive, began their search in Japan and carried it throughout the Far East, Europe and every sizable city in the United States, trying to find just the right gal to co-star with Marlon Brando. Finally, discouraged, they decided to settle on a well-known actress when they spotted Miiko Taka at the Nisei Festival in Los Angeles last fall. “But,” says Miiko, “I thought they were kidding me. You know, you hear the stories about ‘you ought to be in movies — and besides I didn’t think I was an actress. “T finally decided to test for the role when my friends kept insisting,” she said. “And when they told me I had the role, I couldn’t believe it!” It is ironic that during WARNER Bros. search for a leading lady in Hollywood, Miss Taka—who was born in this country —was taking her first trip to Japan to visit her grandparents. When the search moved to Japan, Miss Taka was en route back to the United States. It was the merest chance that brought the talent searchers and Miiko together. of the oxygen factory? Had the customers lost interest in Mama Bardot’s particular taste in clothes? Her friend wondered, but didn’t ask. If Brigitte needed money it could only be for one thing—to stay in school. And that she must do. So she looked her over thoughtfully. “Well, you can’t type and you can’t take shorthand, and you mustn’t take a job standing all day selling behind a counter— you would ruin your feet. So there’s only one thing. You must model part-time. I do it often. It pays very well.” Brigitte stared at her dumfounded. Model? The girl must be mad. Models were beautiful, not ugly. She would be laughed at instantly. But she couldn’t say so out loud. So she accepted silently the copy of the fashion magazine offered to her, took down the names of some agencies, and promised to think it over. in bed she looked i a ie you took their faces apart, she discovered, most models were not precisely beautiful. Interesting, yes. Photogenic, yes. And they had good figures. Brigitte crept out of bed and stared at herself in the mirror. For the first time she examined her body less for what it could do on the ballet stage than for what it was. And she had to admit—it wasn’t bad. For all her ex- ercising, her legs had not grown knotty as most dancers’ do, her bosom had not grown flat. Indeed, for a fifteen-year-old girl—she was, you might say, well-devel- oped. “All right,” said Brigitte, shivering in the chilly room, “Ill try. If they laugh at me—so what?” But they didn’t laugh. They looked at her perhaps a little doubtfully, and then a man said, “Here. Go change into this and come back.” He handed her a scanty bathing suit, showed her a dressing room. Behind the curtained doorway, Brigitte climbed into the suit. She took a deep breath and walked out. And they very definitely didn’t laugh. The road up The bathing suits got briefer and briefer, the nightgowns she posed in flimsier and flimsier. It never occurred to Brigitte that she was doing anything odd, appear- ing half-naked before strange men, posing provocatively. It was so simple to her. Her body, her great blessing, was getting her what she wanted, as it had since she discovered it when she was ten. It so enchanted these men that they never seemed to notice her face, seemed scarcely interested in it at all. Her body was earn- ing the money she needed to go on with her dancing. It was wonderful, truly won- derful. And even more wonderful when one of the photographers fell in love with her. His name was Roger Vadim, and he was a photographer-journalist for Paris- Match. That alone was enough to im- press Brigitte, for Paris-Match is the French equivalent of Life Magazine, and to be pictured in it—is success. But there was more to Roger than that. He was older, handsome, and ambitious. “IT am going to be a film director,” he told Brigitte at their first meeting. “I am going to make movies that will be shown all over the world. I will be very rich, very famous.” She believed him. Nervously, she in- vited him to a little party at her house. There would be some friends from the ballet school. To her amazement, he said yes. Which came first that night—love, or the great idea? Neither of them knew. Bri- gitte danced with her friends, flirted a lit- tle with one of the boys from school who had taken to following her about a bit. But from the corner of her eye, she watched Roger, and in a corner of her mind she wished that the others would leave early— and Roger would stay. As for him, he watched only Brigitte. There was some- thing about her—charming, enticing, inno- cent and provocative at the same time. She moved her body like a young cat— yet she seemed to have no idea that every man in the room was entranced by her. Her face glowed with youth and beauty, her lips pouted adorably—and yet he had heard that she thought she was homely as a hag. If she were his, he would teach her how beautiful she was, how precious. He would—he would make an actress of her, a movie star, a dream of all men. If she loved him too, he would— They should have been ideally happy. — hoy Bro oO Rricitic x tate already almost decided that they were in) love. And by the time they were done | talking at three o’clock in the morning, Brigitte was almost convinced that not only would she be Roger’s bride, but a movie star as well. For he had said everything so exactly right. He had told her his brilliant plans, and she cried out, “You are crazy! A movie star, me? With this face, this wrinkly nose, bulging lips?” And he had not told her the truth—that she was beautiful. That, she wouldn’t believe; not yet. Later she would see it herself, grad- ually, as the whole world fell in love with her. But now he said only, “They'll never notice your face, Brigitte. We'll show them your wonderful body—” Mama and Papa smiled indulgently | when Brigitte told them she and Roger wished to marry. They liked Roger, they would have no objections if, in three years, they still felt the same way. Surely they would not mind waiting until Brig- itte was eighteen? It seemed reasonable to them both. It | would give Brigitte a chance to grow up, | Roger a chance to learn the art of film | directing. Three years later, on Brigitte’s eight- eenth birthday, both dreams came true... it seemed. They were married, and they began work on the first Brigitte Bardot picture, directed by Roger Vadim. It was not a low, but a tiny-budget picture—but it was theirs. While they worked on it, they were happy. Roger coached Brigitte | in every scene—every pout, every wiggle, . every flirtatious glance was carefully di- rected. Brigitte adored him. She would) wake in the night to stare silently at the { wonder of having him lying beside her. | When money ran out, her parents sent ‘ some, and the Vadims ate well for a week. They were happy. | Then the picture was completed. Bri- | gitte saw it. That night when Roger got! home, his wife was nowhere to be found. ! Worried, he called her parents, her friends. } No one had seen her. His worry turned || to terror. In a borrowed car he searched }f the streets of Paris until he found her— } leaning on the rail of a bridge, sobbing as! if her heart would break. ‘Tm so ugly,” she wept as he bundled | her into a coat and drove her home. “So | ugly....I never knew just how ugly... like an old hag....” I He couldn’t get her to stop crying. I The road continues f| But she went on making movies, trying " to get more work whenever a film was’ completed. It would be wrong to say that‘ Roger forced her into a career she hated—‘ entirely wrong. For like the other beau-* ties who have lived with her fear, Brigitte constantly tried to prove to herself that‘ she was wrong and everyone else was right—she was pretty. She showed her- self over and over, hoping that the miracle would happen: someone would say, “You’re beautiful!” and she—she would believe it. And in the meantime, she had her “wonderful body.” In that, she did) believe. She put it on display as much as: the law would allow—and in France, that’s! a good deal. She developed, under Roger’sif tutelage, a wiggle that would have made) Monroe blush scarlet. t Naturally, she became famous. 5 Not outside of France—her pictures were banned in almost every country. But in France, by the time she was twenty-one, she was queen at the box- office, queen of the fan-mail, queen of| the dreams of a million men. Roger won success not only because of her, but be-\f cause of his own talent as a director.'

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her own publicity, seeing her name in lights, her face on the screen, it was as if she had climbed to a high place on a shakey ladder—as if any moment she would look back and the ladder would be gone, the world would be saying, Ugly girl, how you have deceived us! and she would fall faster and harder than she had climbed. On the set, she went further and further with her exposure of herself, her handling of risqué scenes. Offstage the quotes she gave out to newsmen were carefully planned to make her as sexy as possible: “TI do not own a bra. If the weather gets very, very cold, then maybe I put on a little thin pair of panties. Other- wise— “T do not like lipstick. I like to kiss, and if I wear lipstick it makes a big mess for the man and me. “T only play myself on the screen. That ' is why I like free, wild, sexy parts.” She threw herself into a dozen activi- | ties to keep herself from thinking. She developed a tremendous love of animals, once tried to persuade Roger to adopt a | goat—to live in their apartment’s bath- room. She read murder mysteries the ‘way a chain smoker smokes. She devel- oped odd fears—of men in uniforms, of 1 fires, sudden death. And more and more ‘often, there were the lonely walks in the night, the tears on the bridges of Paris. |. Faced with this new, tense Brigitte, ‘Roger no longer knew the right things to | say. Brigitte would walk into the house, _hher hair uncombed, her makeup askew. ‘A second later she would be leaving again. | “Where are you going?” She would turn, looking at him with a peculiar expression. “I’m going to a dance | with one of the extras from the movie. A boy.” | Roger thought he was proving his love. ‘|| “All right. Have fun.” _ But to Brigitte all it meant was that he had finally realized that she was noth- ing, that he no longer cared. Why should he? Working all day in the studio, he had plenty of chance to compare her to the really pretty girls. She was abso- lutely confident that he had found one for himself. ' In the end, he did. /Roger was kind When the marriage broke up, these two people who had understood each other so well no longer had even an idea of what the other was thinking. “Brigitte may tell you,” Roger said in an interview, “that we broke up because I was jealous. But that is not true. I was never jealous of her. Maybe I should have smacked her || the first time she looked at another man. || But she always looked so innocent.” And the papers that carried that story also carried a quote from Brigitte, an ‘i |honey, you can have a baby did (Continued from page 41) a real love, a has|jreal home for the first time in your life. ts||A home not likely to vanish in a puff of sets smoke, a love not endangered by a small ade|\Quarrel or even a big trouble. You’ve lproved that you can stand by your hus- ‘band no matter what. You have a life now, to bring a child into. sty. d yet, there is no baby. io, ou have had two miscarriages, trying. We know that. The first brought an end to pregnancy you hadn’t even admitted to. ou were making The Prince And The how Girl then, and it was your first Ovie on your own, the movie that was pr to the world that the dumb- Ea , ie heh hurts to think of it. unusually honest one. “How could I be- lieve he loved me? He was never jeal- OUSE Ea There was a long separation while the divorce—a difficult matter in France—was arranged. On the day the final papers were served, Roger Vadim’s pretty girl friend gave birth to his baby, a daughter, in a Paris hospital. Brigitte, interviewed by excited re- porters, gave out one of her typical state- ments to the press. “Of course I knew about the baby. I am very happy for them both. I have bought a beautiful crib for a present—and I have asked to be god- mother if they like.” Even in France, that made headlines. The next day Brigitte had another an- nouncement to make. “It is wrong to blame the break-up of my marriage on my husband. You see, I fell in love with another man.” Who? “Jean-Louis Trintignant. It is funny, no? You see, he plays my lover in And God Created Woman, so Roger must direct us in the love scenes together!” Very funny, no. This reality What has developed between Jean-Lou and Brigitte since that day is real enough. Real enough so that he, a handsome young actor, has finally asked his estranged wife for a divorce—they were separated before he met Brigitte . and was refused firmly, for his wife is an ardent Catholic. Real enough so that Brigitte has taken an apartment where she can cook for Jean- Lou, wait for him when he is away on a picture assignment, and give out quotes like, “We have fallen very, very much in love. We are acting like mad people. There is no organization in our lives. In any case. what other people think doesn’t worry me at all.” And real enough so that, according to her closest friends, only weeks ago, Bri- gitte attempted to end her life with sleep- ing pills. That is not the end of the story. The attempt failed, and was of course denied. Brigitte took off on a skiing tour in a secluded village. And Jean-Lou with some understanding told the press, “Underneath, Brigitte has a deep sensitivity. Beneath all that varnish, there is a true woman, one who is self-tortured and unhappy. I say to myself, This girl is lost, and maybe I can bring something to her.” Maybe he can. Maybe some day he will be able to bring marriage to go along with his love, and a sense of security and some ‘organiza- tion.’ Maybe he will even be able to bring her the greatest gift of all—the greatest gift to the Garbos, the Monroes, the Brigitte Bardots—the gift of belief in themselves, and in their beauty. END blonde bit you’d been playing off-screen and on for so long was just an act. But it was a glamorous part, and nothing was to spoil the impression you wanted to make. So you said you weren’t pregnant, and you and Arthur and a fev. close friends hugged the secret in private—you were going to have a baby. There would be plenty of time to announce it when the picture was done. But the announcement was never made. The baby was never born. All the world got was the sudden ring of truth in your sad denials: “No, I’m not pregnant. Please, leave me alone.” That was the first time. The second—well, the second is more than half a year behind now—yet it still Those weeks of For the best in DAYTIME TV DRAMA, tune in to MODERN ROMANCES every weekday over the NBC-TV Network Check your local paper for time and channel. ... And for exciting true-life stories, read MODERN ROMANCES magazine. On sale everywhere. 83

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An early morning encounter with ANNA MAGNANI m The young American was thrilled. He had been in Rome only a few days and he had found the perfect apartment. What’s more. movie star Anna Magnani lived in the same building. “You'll see her,” a neighbor told him. “if you get up early enough. Just look out in the courtyard.” Then she laughed, but she wouldn’t explain why. “Just look out in the courtyard,” she repeated. She lowered her voice for added significance. “And just think,” she said, “it’s the best grade beef!” She would say nothing more. The mystery was too much for the young man. He left his door ajar so that he would hear the famous actress if she came down the stairs. and spent a sleep- less night. Sure enough. around dawn there were footsteps on the stairs. He crept to the door and peeked out. Anna Magnani was coming down the staircase. Her arms were outstretched and she held her skirt out like an apron. It was filled with great chunks of raw red beef! She continued down the stairs and out of sight. Before he could get to the window, the young man was aware of a squalling in the courtyard. Then he saw Miss Magnani walk out into the sunlight. surrounded by a hun- dred yowling furry objects. Anna Magnani was feeding the home- less cats of Rome! happiness in the privacy of your first real home with Arthur. The glow when you admitted there was a baby coming. The talk, the plans, the sense of fulfillment. And then—the nightmare ride to the hos- pital and the knowledge that this baby, too, would never be born. A baby so young that even the doctors could not tell you if it would have been a boy or a girl—and it, too, had to die. Do you know, Marilyn, that we still get etters—all these months later—weeping fess evesy om wor hahy? _T sc tr And sometimes they ask, “Why doesn’t Marilyn try again?” For you said you would. We remember the pictures of you when Arthur took you home from the hospital. You smiled for the cameramen and you walked down the steps. yourself, though you shouldn’t have. You waved your hand from the window of the ambulette and you said in a loud brave voice: “I’m going to have a big family. A big family—” Marilyn, is it true that you’ve changed your mind? We hear that it is. That you’ve been tired and weak, that your recovery ~ had left not physical scars but a more dan- gerous wound—discouragement, despair. We hear now that you are afraid to try again, afraid you were never meant to have that one greatest joy—a child to love. That’s why we're writing to you this way. Bringing out into the open things that are usually left for the privacy of a husband and wife. We’re writing to say just one thing: you can have a baby. We’ve done some _ checking, asked around. Your last pregnancy failed be- cause somehow the baby was conceived, not in the womb where it should have PHOTOGRAPHERS CREDITS The photographs appearing in this issue are credited below page by page: 12—Bruce Bailey; 13——United Press, Jack Al- bin; 14—United Press, Wide World; 15—-Globe; 16—United Press, Capitol, Birnback; 17—-Wide World; 18—Wide World; 19—Phil Burchman: 21—Wide World; 22—-Peter Basch; 23——Phil Burchman; 24—Dick Miller, Bob Beerman, John R. Hamilton; 25—Dick Miller of Globe, Bob Beerman; 26—Bob Beerman, Dick Miller of Globe; 27—Dick Miller of Globe, John R. Hamil- ton of Globe; 28—Phil Burchman, Jamaica Tour- ist Board, John R. Hamilton of Globe; 29—Phil Burchman: 30—John R. Hamilton of Globe; 32 —Phil Burchman, Gus Gale, Topix; 34—-Larry Barbier Jr. of Globe; 35, 36, 37—-John R. Hamil- ton of Globe; 38-39—Globe; 40—INP; 42-43— Globe; 44—United Press, INP, Wide World, Peter Basch: 45—Globe; 46—Don Ornitz of Globe; 48—Phil Burchman; 49—London Express News; 50, 51, 52—-Peter Basch; 54—-Bob Beer- man; 56—INP; 76—Wide World; 84—-United Press. been, but outside it, in the Fallopian tube. This is an accident, a mischance that does not, thank God, happen often—but often enough for the doctors to know all about it. And the doctors say that there is no reason why it should ever happen to you again. But sometimes it goes deeper than that. Sometimes there’s another barrier that keeps a woman from bearing a child. What is the name of that barrier? Worry? ‘Tension? Fear? Whatever its name, June Allyson met it once. Do you remember? She and Dick wanted so to have a baby. They went to doctors, had tests made. But time went on and no baby came and finally June found herself cross- ing streets to avoid friends with baby bug- gies, or a child waiting for its mama. They were bad days for the Powells, and then they adopted Pam. They found her in an orphanage in Tennessee, where so many movie stars have adopted children, and her brown eyes smiled at them. There were papers to fill out and time to wait, but finally they carried Pam home—and that might have been the end of the story, the three of them, happily ever after. But it wasn’t the end. For the next year June— without benefit of doctors and tests, with- out fear, without even thinking about it, it seemed—became pregnant and gave birth to a son. Now (as you'll notice on page 34) there are four of them—June and Dick, Pam and Richy, to share the ever-after. A natural miracle An isolated example? No, not at all. Lita Calhoun was another one who finally be- came pregnant—after almost adopting a | baby. There are many, many others in | Hollywood. And the adoption agencies will tell you of literally thousands more—sup- posedly childless women, who opened their hearts to a stranger’s child, and sud- denly found that they, too, were able to give birth. There have been volumes writ- ten, trying to explain why. It seems sometimes as if there is more room for a child in a full home than in an empty house. And then there are the others, the peo- ple like Roy Rogers and Dale, whose homes have found room not only for their own children, not only for their adopted children, but for the children whose real parents can neither care for them nor give them up altogether—the most homeless children of all: the foster children. These children move sometimes from house to house, going wherever there is room. They may live in one home for years—or in a dozen in twelve months. They write to their parents, visit them, love them—and long for them. For they are nobody’s chil- dren. And you were one of them once. We won’ go into that now. It’s been told so many times. The years of anguish, the | loneliness, the left-out feeling, the hurt. The changing women who told you to call them ‘Mama’—and the worse ones who told you not to dare. The ‘fathers’ who | accepted money for your board and room “ from the state—and worked you like a servant. And the scornful children who did belong—and saw to it you never forgot that you did not. We know that’s all behind you. We know you’ve earned your love and your — place in the sun, that those years are over |} for you now. But, Marilyn, there are other | children for whom those years are just |} beginning. There are other girls as des- perately in need of love as you were once, | as homeless in every house. Love's gift And all they need is what you have to offer. Not the material things. But—in || your words—‘Love. People caring. Smil- , ing. And not being afraid.” \] If your arms are empty now, they could | so easily be filled. | And we don’t have to tell you—you | know it so well—what such a love could || mean to such a child. } Twice now, we've repeated your own words to you. Now we’d like you to read the words of another woman. She once said this: if “Show business at best is a false exist- | ence. Fame is a fleeting thing. The tinsel ' fades. The public may be fickle and forget | you. But your child is always there to love you and open an umbrella when that proverbial rainy day comes into your life. | “A child doesn’t care if the critics pan you. Your child believes you are perfect. A child doesn’t judge you by your bank | account. Your love is its riches and its love is your gold. A child doesn’t care whether you’re under contract or between jobs. A child doesn’t care if you reach | forty and have to take a back seat for some other rising star. Your heart may ache, but your child rejoices that you're home at last—where you belong.” You know who wrote that? Not a poet or a novelist. Another ‘dumb-blonde’ as a matter of fact. Her name is Gracie Allen, Mrs. George Burns. And she was speaking of her adopted children. Think about it for a while. We believe that—even more than most women—you are meant to be a mother, | Marilyn. We hope with all our hearts you } make it soon. With love, David M yers )

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Campus beauties compete for title of 2 Campana’s College Beauty Queen: — Karen Lee Hukkala, Delta Zeta, NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY, says ““SOLITAIR is such a glamorous make-up ...and it stays perfect all day long.” Sold at better drug and all variety stores. Nancy Hill, Kappa Kappa Gamma, SOUTHERN METHODIST UNIVERSITY, says ““SOLITAIR is the smoothest, most natural-looking make-up I’ve ever used—it’s fabulous!” Bobbie Herb, Zeta Tau Alpha, DUKE UNIVERSITY, says “I love SOLITAIR! It’s lovely for evening but light enough to look wonderful in daylight.” all choose SOLITAIR— the “‘moisture miracle’ make-up! he smartest girls in school rate Solitair the “most glamorous Winner will Win a make-up of all”! Solitair—with a trip to Hawaii remarkable new skin discovery called Vita-Lite—gives such a smooth, fresh, natural look that it’s a campus favorite : by day—a girl’s best friend by candlelight! “ya; f) per at the com aon et Smooth on Solitair with a moist the luxurious Royal Hawaiian Hotel sponge—Vita-Lite penetrates... helps and home again. Northwest's “Aloha restore moisture...stimulates circulation. Mgne” On & oupansunoeila WGI eanenl rary | li h takes them on the smart new ap- uddenly you re lovelier than ever— proach to Hawaii, via the magnificent and day by day your complexion Pacific Northwest. improves...tired lines seem to disappear. See for yourself. Get Solitair, the young make-up, so perfect for skin of any age. VOTE for your favorite! Send your vote on a signed postcard or letter to Campana, Batavia, Illinois. A Solitair label enclosed will count as 10 extra votes. Voting ends May 1, 1958. NORTHWEST (oink | AIRLINES THE ROYAL HAWAIIAN HOTEL with its coral-tinted walls and lovely surrounding palms, is as much a part of Hawaii as the famous Diamond Head seen from the Royal’s grounds. Dining service that is world-renowned ...sunning and swimming on Royal’s private beach...nightly entertain- ment and dancing. Truly a dream vacation in the “Jand-where-dreams-come-true.”

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