Variety (Jan 1949)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

^0 PICTIJRBS forty.third USrIETT Annit>et»ary Wcdnesdajr, Januwiy S, 1949 LAST VISIT WITH ERNIE; AND A VISIT WITH DENISE W. A. S. DOUGLAS W. ' A. S. Douglas iFrom two as yet unused pages in my World War II notebooks.) ERNIE . I came into American Army J'^fi^gf/'^x'hVLu""^ Ann on a glorious September morning oi ;"*t„„s and there were a ^'ugh't a? firsfth°at General of the Army Eisenhower or Gen. Patton had taken a runover f roro :France--'l)ut hat had been the the|pys ^y^^ have been iin the other side of Grps-: "TpusS my way through^and Into the postoffice room wliere Sgt. San- ders was piling up boxes and ^pacit- aees a few of them in fair conditiori, h^st of them brokeni ilifr conteiits t»f some in plain view-cigars,^ cigar^ts, candy-and held together; by tWine. Among so much, I thought to myself, there might-be something for me Kpt Sanders peering over the top of the piled Utter, said Sf thit all ofC were for Ernie Pyle. And so 1 earned thV"tL 1 ttle feUa'^-as so many G. I.s got to calling him -had arrWed that-morning from the front on his way '"'•'^AU this stuff." explained the sergeant, "has been routed back from Paris" he boys o "Yes," grinned the sergeant. *''Erni'e always got lots of packages; if he was inaccessible for a while close to the battles, his bundles would pile up ttll sometrmes there would be enough stufE to start a pos^^. f.xchanee In the davs before the liberation of Paris, Sgt. leterson a tall Norwegian from the University of Mmne- sota had charge of our mail in London. Peterson would atays open a package of Ernie's cigars.-cigarets or candy if a correspondent was short and norrejief Was in sight , from the Post Exchange. ,j i.„„At^i, "He told me to do it," Peterson would say, handing over a fistful of Ernie's luxuries. Sgt. Sanders, succeeding the Norwegian, never got those orders; Ernie was too busy on the far shore. So the stuff piled up Ernie got more narkaees than any 20 other correspondents lumped to- Ser; people rekd his stories and figured rightly that what was sent would have fine distribution. Pretty soon "the little fella" came in, and I was sur- prised over how frail and worn he looked as compared with the last time I had seen him—which had been on D- Dav three months before; it seemed as though, h? had put on 10 years in 90 davs. He reminded me more than ever of O O. Mclntyre who Was many years his senior when he ■passed away; peas of a pod, Ernie and Odd—two country boys, born with the gift of writing beautifully and simply. ■ Odd brought the big city to the homefolks. Ernie had a larger canvas; he wrote of the farms and the crossroads, the villages and the hamlets>—till the people of those . places went to war. And then, of 'coiurse, he had to fol- low them. - X, i 1J ■ The G. I.s crowded round Ernie in the hall of that old house, slapping his shoulders, shaking both, his hands. It was an ovation such as I have npvor seen any other news- ; paperman receive from either soldiers or civilians. The packages were brought out, broken open, the contents distributed, and about an hour later Ernie and 1 walked . out into the sunlit square;-he had kept only two bundles out of 20-od'd—presents fronfi .his own relatives. The alert had been on all morning. Two robot bonibs had fallen on London inside the lost hour while Ernie had been passing'out his cigars, Gigarets and candy. And as we leaned tin the railing of Grosvenor Square Garden a third V-I putt-putted to a roar, passed directly over our heads, came down about half a mile away. We felt the ■. impact. 'i "Automatic war," sdd Ernie., "The most cruel, most contemptibly brutal thing ever devised by man, 'I'm through and I'm going Jiome. I can't take any more. I'm lucky I can step- out all of a piece." - ' i (We had njot as yet got round to the atom bomb.) The ambulances and fire engines came roaring by to at- tend to the slaughter, to put out the blazing lurnace. , "I lee! like I'm running out," whispered Ernie. "From the battles, the robots, from the boys. But I've taken . «U I can take." That was the last time I saw him and I had more than : 20 years of knowing him. He must have known, inside himselfv that he couldn't stay away; even though he knew that the beckoning finger meant the end—this side of heaven. . DENISE "Visilors to the . Moulin Rouge in the 'Paris of before World War II will remember Denise. She led the can-can which you might call the cup of coffee; which brought a satisfying end to the first half of the revue, Almo.st always . there has been a can-can at the ;Mbulin Eouge from away back when the berufflcd high jinks first came into fashion in grandfather's heyday. We stopped off in Cartaret,- on the western side of the Cherbourg peninsula, la wa.sh; the dust of battle ruins out •of our mouths and entered a tmy cstamineti the owner, of which had run out of calvados and had, in, some extraor- dinary fashion, secured in-stead a bountiful supply of 1 southern white mule just a trifle higher'in octane than the ' Carolina variety. The first' two aperitifs of thi& poison' sort of leave you feeling that there, is no top to your head and if you have any sense left you switch to, hard cider. . Denise glided over to us and said she had noticed Bob Casey and I were war correspondents and wouldn't we like to know what the invasion had'done to her? We> said we would and- we ordered her a slug of'thi.s White mule and said go ahead ,and tell us how you happen ■ to be in a Matiche (Cherbourg-Peninsula) hole-in-the-wall jWhen, obviously, the Germtins, who adore the can^can, 'should be hailing your lovely legs at the old Moulin Rouge, Denise replied that the conclusion was very correct and that the sales (dirty) Bociies did indeed think so highly of , her underpinning that for purposes of Na/,i morale^which, she added, was far from what it used to be—she and her ■ttenclant danseujses had been ordered into a series of three and four-night-stands in ^hat passes m EngU l%Tl^!X cXAe%,s) of the occupied Me, ^Tnd had been caught in the invasion which had started •"^Ah'vef the'"beautiful Denise had had her troubles. There h'ad been a demoralisation among les cochons of the most exquisite, you will believe me, messieurs. And in Tav ng their own^^hides they had come to not give a whoop fnr thP beautiful hide of Denise and she and her dans- iuses had slKd out of town and had walked and hitch- E_mostly walked-down the west shore of the penin- sula WhHe les hrwes Amcricatns had been pushing up the eastern shore- aid so they had come to Cartaret where afl was quiet where everything was rationed, where Pari^ennes were not of the people, no matter how famous rhey mrght bTin the capital and even In the other capitals of thiT world. To make a long story short Den^^ ^as what a G I Joe would call empty-and then some. What to do.^ "felrunder'I*: colons a>at artiste had been per- milted some privileges. Denise had «d her ap^^^^^^^ ment in the Etoile quarter, had been permitted a nurse , Tr her little boy. Denise, maybe for the first time m her 20-odd years of life, was up against it. Sl^ couldn't move back—and she hadn't had a cigaret in two weeks. We dug her up two packs and a hundred franc note ($2.50) and told her we would .speak to John O Regan at the Bed Cross in Cherbourg. We look forward happily to collecting some day—in Paris, for Denise, once again, is leading the can-can at the old Moulin Rouge. Cub Rooin-With Trees By MAX SHULMAN Mr Hathaway, the eminent writer, came out of his study and slammed the door behind him. His wife looked at his tieht lips and glowering brows and rushed to his side witn ■ ■ ' ---"-5- She waited until he had consumed YouAin'tfleardNothinpet! • By AL JOLSON AI Jolson a Shaker of martinis, "Another bad i Max Sbulman York two and then she said, day, dear?" He nodded blackly. She patted his hand. "Well, dont worry, dear. It's always like this when you start a book." "It was never this bad," he de- clared. ""Never." She smiled reassuringly. "You 11 find out what the trouble is pretty soon and then everything will be all right." "1 know what the trouble is." he said. "It's New York." "New York? But you love New It's no place to work. I've gofc-too many friends here, and I keep thinking of what they're doing—Jim selling that book to Metro, Edna with that hit play. Baker with that serial in Collier's, Tom With that radio deal, Not," he added hastily, "that I begrudge them their success." "Of course," murmurred Mrs. Hathaway. "Biut I keep thinking of all those things, and I just can't concentrate. I've got to get awajjifrom the market place; I've gbt to get away from writers and producers and edi- tors, I've got to forget about the commercial aspects of this business and devote myself to creation." • "Now, dear," soothed his wife, "you're just upset be- cause you can't get going, on your book, ■ This always hap- pens, and you always come out of it. Don't blame New York. You've done your best work in New York." "No," he said stubbornly. "Tve got to get away—go out in the country some place where I won't have anything on' my mind but the book."' , "Yo'u hate the country," Mrs. Hathaway pointed out. "Nonsense,'' said Mr. Hathaway and delivered a short oration about peace and greenery, ; The next.day found them up in Connecticut in the office ; of a wise old realtor named Pomfritt. "We want,'" said Mr. Hathaway, "a comfortable, secluded house where 1 can work in privacy," "Uh, huh," said Mr. Pomfritt and took them to a com- fortable, secluded house where Mr. Hathaway could work m privacy. v "Well," said Mr. Hathaway, looking with some dismay at the acres, of grass and woods that extended as 'far as the eye could see, "perhaps not.quite so secluded.*' "I'll tell you," said the wise old realtor, "it's secluded and yet it isn't secluded. Now you take Jerome Weidman's place up the road—" "Jerome Weidman lives around here?", aisked Mr. Hath- away eagerly. "Yes," said Mr. Pomfritt. "He lives between Lpura Hob- son's place and F. P. A.'s place," "They too?", isaid Mr. Hathaway with great excitement. The wise-old'realtor nodded. "They're over near Law- rence Langner's. Or maybe they're a bit closer to Dick Mealand. No, I guess they're closer^to Langner's. Arnold , Auerbach is closer to Mealand; Ted Shane and Ken Lit- tauer are up there too, just a couple of miles from John Kobler." "Well," said Mr. Hathaway happily. "WelU well, well." '!! understand your problem perfectly," said Mr. Pom-. ; fritt. "It'vS like I told Dick Rodgers and Steve Dohanos when I sold theni their places ,up here. 'You want to be secluded,' I said^ 'but not too secluded.' I think you feel the same way, Mr. Hathaway." ; ' "Yes," agreed Mr. Hathaway, "You've got to get away from the market place, away from writers and producers and editors. You've got to forget about the commeircial aspects of your business and devote yourself to creation/'- "Exactly," cried Mr. Hathaway, "what I was telling my wife. Wasn't J, dear?" .Mrs. Hathaway smiled sweetly, V "Of/ Course you'll have a telephone in case you should have to get in touch with New York," said Mr. Pomfritt. "That's good," said Mr. Hathaway. "And," continued the wise old realtor, "there's a de- livery service that brings you the New York papers before breakfast. You get 'Variety by mail the same day it comes out in New York." "But the important thing," said the wise old realtor, pulling a deed out of his pocket, "is that you'll be se- cluded, away from the market place, away from writefs and producers and eUitors, able to forget the commercial aspects of th? 'uusinefls and devote yourself to creation,, . Ju.st sign right here;jMr. Hathaway." • Mr. Hathaway signed, Mrs, Hathaway sighed. ' ., HoUyiSood, ■ • ■ Encino Is a long way from Pinsk. I'm very glad about that. Things aren't so good in Pinsk these days, and I'm very grateful to Papa Yoelson for his good sense in leav- ing Russia when 'I was just a baby. "Otherwise today i might be Al Jolsonoff, star of the Kretchma Caviar Prograrti with Arain Khachaturian. Or then again, jj might not be the star of anything^ L might just be a sntail itian with a large pickaxe in a Siberian salt inlne. Anyone can be happy that he lives in the United States-^hut not eyery. One ca'n be^as happy, as the ipeojiie. who Iivt(Jrere in Ericltep;; this is the second time I've taken up residence and this time I plan to stay, If It's good enough for oranges it's g(»^d enough for me. When I first ]biiilt my home on Louise Ave. I thought I had taken root, but time and events took me away. (I won't go into that here. It's too personal. T'oo intimate. Besides it's all in my next picture.) When I did have to leave this wonderful little 'Valley town, Don Ameche moved into my house. Nofw I don!t want to say anything nasty about Ameche. He's a very nice fellow with teeth. But while he was living in the house he was working in all those pictures portraying the lives of various inventors. Don used.to take, his work home with him and I'm still trying to scrape the last of the Ameche gadgets from the walls and ceUngs. He had a button next to the bed that he pressed just to close the windows and tutn on the heat. Now I didn't know any- thing about it—nobody bothers to explain buttons to me. They figure Jolson has lived a long time and that he's seen everything, but I must confess^'d never .seen buttons that close windows and turn on thr-heat. One morning I arose early, got out of bed, walked ovfer to the window and stuck my head out to catch a breath of orange blos- som. My wife woke up at that moment and decided to ring for the maid. My wife doesn't know a lot about but- tons either, so the next thing I knew the window came down on my .neck and the heat was warming the part of me that was left in the room. If I ever am foolish enough to leave again I Won'tNjet an inventor take over my house. I'd rather see Boris Kar- loff move in. He's a nice, quiet, gentlemanly fellow and the Worst he might do is leave a couple of stiffs in the deep freeze: ■ But, as L said before, this time I plan to stay in Encino, I have to think of what's, best for my family now. After, all, I do have two small babies—one a boy and the other my wife. They like to see me show up at home every night, an4 Erie doesn't want to be a show business widow. She doesn't want to spend her evenings reading 'Variety reviews to find,out what town I'm playing in. • A Tough Decision Though Mike Todd called me just the other night and asked if I'd appear in a big Sunday evening television show at the Winter Garden, I declined. The Winter Gar- den has a lot of memories for me and maybe 1 didn't wrestle with my ego when Todd called. Gee, to dance around the runway agam and hold an audience in the palm of my hand. It's quite a temptation to an old ham like me. But I don't know. Can you beat sitting,,honie. at night with your family, listening to the radio or watch- ing television? ; , And it's doing me a lot of good too. I feel like a;,siid at times. Oscar Levant would .say it's my second child* , hood, but he's just jcalou.s. He lives in lancy Beverly Hills where they have-to close all the windows and turn on Desert Air lamps. Stick your head out of a window . in Beverly Hills and you don't smell orange blos.soms. All you can smell is the latest picture of the movie pro- ducer who lives, next door. I like outdoor life and when I'm not at the .studios I get out by my pool and soak in llie sunshine. At the end of the summer I'm about three parts .lolson and seven parts Vitamin D. There's a lot of pro and con about how good sunshine is lor you, but all I know is I've got more energy than the two boys who write my radio program. When Charlie Isayws and Mannie Manheim drove out here to Encino they brought luggage and rifles. Somehow they got the idea .wc live in the wilds. I tried to gel them to take a swim in my pool, but Charlie gets his energy from looking at pictures in Esquire and Mannie thinks theres enough Vitamin D in his Corona-Coronas and a Scotca old-fashioned> I know we all can't be blessed with an over-abundance of vitality. Vm very thankful for mine. There was a time when I was a starving kid that I got pretty sick, and there was another time when I had come back from overseas after entertaining the troops when I couldn't leave a hos^ pital bed for months, I know what it is to be terribly sick, but there again; in my case things worked out for the best. If I hadn't been sick and needed an operation, ■I'd never have met Eric. She's a wonderful girl an<l tn* only woman who «ver really knew what went on inside ot me. Of course, it's easy for her—she used to be an X-ray technician. ' •ti, As Mayor of Encino I suppose I should come up witn some great civic reforms—suggestions for improving our city. Frankly, I like Encino just the way it-is. A mce little town off the highway, where t can sit and watch t(ie rest of the world'go by. I've .seen Paris, London,, Po'?'* and the Riviera—they don't have the smell of orange blos- soms and they don't have buttons that make the windows go up and down. Papa Yoelson liked Encino too, He hadn't been to Lon- don or Paris, but he had been to Pinsk. There are n» orange blossoms there either. It's too bad. Perhaps Jj Pinsk were niore like Encino there wouldn't be the unresi we feel today. ♦« It's the escape from unrest that really brought, me w Encino. Whether yo'u have 10 acres or » 60-foot lot, in*, same sunshine comes down to each of us, and whether you have a 12-tube radio,,or a 4-tuber, you can hear * hose new • young crooners, Cro.sby and 'Vallee. We can all get tn ' same benefits irom this community. It's a small pa" w a great country. If I could suggest anything to '"'P''° our town it would only be that we set aside one day « week and play nothing but Al Jolson records. But that's not a good idea—I wouldn't want the town to iw come smaller than it is.