Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1963)

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at the start of our separation has now passed. Jack and I realize we were much too young and that it’s better to admit a mistake and write it off before it ruins two lives and maybe the lives of children.” The word “children” seems to stir in Lana an ember of glowing resentment. “I understand there’s been some vicious gossip going around that I was pregnant when I entered the hospital recently for a minor operation. It’s a lie, as the records can show. It was a small cyst I had to have removed and unfortunately it came at the time of our separation which probably set off the rumors. Anyway, as far as rushing into marriage again, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be at least thirty-five before I say ‘Yes’ again . . But Natalie, gazing amusedly at her sister’s shapely five-four frame, tip-tilted nose and rich warm coloring, only pats the youngster’s dark brown hair and, with a wink at Warren Beatty, says, “I doubt if the Hollywood stag lines will let you keep that vow, Honey.” — Eunice Field Natalie Wood will star next in Warners’ new picture, “Sex And The Single Girl.” Continued from page 27 with one of her cousins in Paris. The French reporters who had arranged this visit were disappointed — but knowing how important it was to Danielle, they agreed to step out of the picture.” “Who,” I asked, “is Danielle?” “Who, you should ask,” said Aristide, “ was Danielle.” He paused for a long moment. “No,” he said then, “I cannot tell you that story. It is too personal. It must come from the family themselves. It is a tragic story. There are those in Pont Saint Esprit who say that it is the story of a great comedy that ended in great tragedy. But you will hear it for yourself in time. For now,” he said, “let me show you some proof that has been gathered which makes it indisputable that Mrs. Kennedy is related to the Bouviers of Pont Saint Esprit. And then we will be off to meet the cousins.” The proof was all there, in a local library, gathered from dusty archives which Aristide and a few others had combed through back in the summer of 1960, a few days after John F. Kennedy had been nominated to run for President of the United States. The proof was this: that a Michel Bouvier had been born in Pont Saint Esprit in the year 1793; that he had left Pont Saint Esprit for Philadelphia one day in 1815; that he had married in Philadelphia and had had ten children — Jeannette, Lizzie, Eustache, Emma. Therese, Louise, Jean, Albert, Martin and Michel; that the younger Michel had grown up and married a young lady whose maiden name was Vernou, also French; that they had had a son whom they’d named John Vernou Bouvier; that John had in time married a young woman named Janet Lee and that they had had two daughters — Lee Bouvier and Jacqueline Bouvier. “See here,” said Aristide then, pointing to some clippings from local newspapers of July 1960. “See how excited the village and Jacqueline’s relatives were about the forthcoming election. See the enthusiasm that gripped this little place where practically nothing of consequence happens.” He handed me the clippings. They read, in part: “Pont Saint Esprit must be proud today of its tie with Mrs. John F. Kennedy and must wish that in November her husband is victorious — her husband, whom we are assured is a great friend of France. “Mrs. John Kennedy, nee Jacqueline Bouvier, is, as everyone knows, of French origin and more precisely of local origin. The success of her great-grandfather who emigrated to the U.S. and amassed a vast fortune in veneers and paints is a fact with which most of us are familiar and pleased. The success of her husband, the young and dynamic American senator, would be wonderful in that Mme. Kennedy would certainly make a stop here on her next trip to France. “One of the most interested parties in all this activity is our aged Mile. Baudichon. the closest of all living relatives to Mme. Kennedy. Mile. Baudichon has one hope for her eighty-third year; that is, to see one day in Pont Saint Esprit her cousin from the United States, who will come visit the ancestral home and the cemetery alongside that home and thus be reunited for a little while at least with her family in France, both living and deceased.” I handed the clippings back to Aristide. “Mile. Baudichon,” he said, “has since died.” He shrugged. “As for Danielle — ” he started to say. But again he shook his head and said, “No. That is for the family to tell. In just a little while. Though first . . .” He began to walk toward the door of the tiny office along with me. “Though first I must stop and discuss something with Marie, my fiancee. You must come with me. It will only take a minute. And I should like you to meet my fiancee. She is much more pleasant than I.” Her visit— a feast day! Marie smiled merrily when we were introduced. And after her “private” talk with Aristide — carried on in a loud patois — she turned to us and said, “I, for one, look forward very much to the day when Jacqueline Kennedy will come visit us here at Pont Saint Esprit!” “You think she will, then?” I asked. “But of course,” said Marie. “And it will be a great feast, the day she comes to visit us, Jacqueline Kennedy — for those who are her cousins and those who are her townspeople. And what a celebration there will be here!” “What kind of celebration,” I asked, “do you think would be planned for her?” “Something typically Provencal, typical of this area in which we live,” said Marie. “We are an outdoor people, as you can see, and most of the celebration will be in the streets. There will be the traditional WE'LL DYE FOR YOU! Yes, we will dye your purchase of a pair of shoes or bag any color . . . AT NO EXTRA COST! 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