Hollywood Studio Magazine (July 1972)

Every set was encompassed in a great bag made of sewn-together blankets. But still this did not cut off the sounds of traffic along Melrose Avenue, a block away. So all movies were made at nights, 7 p.m. to 6 a.m. Unit publicists usually came to work after noon lunch to write copy and “plant” stories. Press came on stage for interviews and news gathering until midnight. Press agents usually drove home then but often stayed all night to pose special photographs. Twelve hours a day work can be tiring, but few complained. Surely not Mack, who was living like a millionaire, as I said. He and his wife leased a furnished Beverly Hills mansion, at which I got asked to the first plush bash of my career. Mack gave a Halloween party and I came along to help entertain the invited members of the press. Mack owned an $18,000 Mercedes town car, chauffered by a young Chinese in livery. I used to ride in it to. pick up members of the press. I always made a whammo impression. I learned that the Moran and Mack team was no partnership. Mack owned the whole kaboodle. Once there had been a Moran in a smalltime vaudeville act. There had been others, all hired by Mack for a salary. They were straight men, feeding lines to that haunting so-tired voice. The current Moran was named George Searcy, who told me he was vastly underpaid. He had no voice in a deal or a decision. After the first picture was finished, Searcy refused to do the second unless he got more cash. He went to court about it. Mack simply changed Morans between pictures. The one who appeared in “Anybody’s War,” was a fabulously-colorful old-time minstrel man named Bert Swor who told me an abundance of lore about those early days. He was twice Searcy’s size but neither the public nor the critics ever paid attention to the switch. Meanwhile, Mack bought that Valley acreage and settled down there in the largest in a nest of quaint homes. He became friendly with William S. Hart, who often strolled down from his castle to visit. I met that deeply-impressive man and we made photos of him with Charley Mack. Mack seemed to know every legendary figure in show business. One whom I met through Mack remains a vivid memory. One afternoon I went into the star’s dressing room under orders from my bosses to sell him on the team making an appearance for free at some vital affair. I was nervous to start with. There was a small man, a stranger, in the room and Mack introduced him as a lawyer friend. I had started my pitch, when the obnoxious little squirt began heckling. He warned Mack to beware of publicists who would gladly sell a celebrity down the river for selfish reasons. Within ten minutes I, who always had prided myself with staying calm, was blowing my stack and charging out of the place. Mack caught me. “Teet, meet Vince Barnett.” I’d heard stories about the success of this super-rfbber. I never figured I’d be a victim. It flattered me to be the object of Barnett’s talents. Mack also was so tickled that he freely agreed to the appearance. He never turned me down after that. Moran and Mack finished at Paramount and moved out of my life. The bitterness of the fight between Mack and Searcy went away. They resumed as a team and went on making appearances. I was happy they were friends again. Only a few years later, they were returning by car through New Mexico en route back to Los Angeles. There was a motor accident, and Mack was fatally injured. The wire story said that Moran held the man’s head in his lap while they awaited an ambulance. Mack took his partner’s hand. “This is it, pal,” he said. “Good-bye, old friend.” He died then. Searcy survived him many years. So all I have today is an autographed copy of Mack’s book to assure myself that the Two Black Crows ever really were. That and a memory of the last time I ever saw the two in person. The picture was long finished but we needed some photos in costume. Also, Chuck West, who made trailers (those “Coming Attractions” plugs for theater showing) wanted them to do a North Hollywood Federal Now open until 7pm every weekday. Lankershim at Riverside