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From under my Hat
A few months after Griffith's death I had occasion to lunch with Eric Johnston, president of the Motion Picture Association of America, who was very pleased with himself. "Hedda," he said, "you'll be happy to know that the producers are going to build a great monument to D. W. Griffith over his grave in Kentucky."
I looked at him. "Are they out of their minds? The men who would do nothing for him while he lived are now going to show their generosity by buying a shaft of granite to mark his resting place?"
In May 1950 three famous stars of the silent screen— Mary Pickford, Lillian Gish, and Richard Barthelmess— went to La Grange, Kentucky, and dedicated a dignified and honest memorial to the man they loved. It's a simply inscribed seven-foot Georgia-marble memorial. Near the cemetery is the wrhite frame church where Griffith attended Sunday school.
Our first Christmas in Hollywood was unlike any we'd ever known before. Being troupers, we were used to snow on the ground and zero weather. We missed Broadway. We'd like to have seen Maude Adairis in her revival of Peter Pan, with Ruth Gordon, my old Three Arts Club chum, making her first appearance in it; and Will Rogers, who broke away from vaudeville and joined the class of Ina Claire, Ed Wynn, W. C. Fields, Mae Murray, George White, Olive Thomas, Leon Errol, Justine Johnstone, and Bernard Granville in The Ziegfeld Follies of 1915.
Our son Bill was eleven months old, but neither his father nor I got to see him on that day. He had a cold, and his nurse— Wolfie called her the dragon— declared we'd give him germs. She overlooked the fact that we were perfectly well. But some of Wolfie's old cronies came to call, among them Douglas Fairbanks, William S. Hart, and William Crane.
It was a lovely day, but there were no presents from Wolfie. He made a great deal of money and would lend or give a wad to any broken-down actor who told him a sob story, but he never got in the habit of spending it on his wives, except in the form of alimony. I always thought if he'd bought more roses and fewer automobiles, he wouldn't have had so many divorces. 66