Modern Screen (Dec 1952 - Nov 1953)

■ Last winter a streamlined train puffed its way along the cobweb of tracks leading into Chicago's Dearborn Station. The aisles were lined with passengers impatient to alight after the long trip from Los Angeles. Not so Gene Nelson. He still sat in his compartment, his lap strewn with papers, a pencil poised in mid-air. He gazed unseeing at the foot locker under the bed. "You know," he said, "I think I ought to do the soft shoe number before the patter about making musicals. It would give the routine a better change of pace." His wife Miriam picked up her hat. "You know," she said, "I think you ought to collect yourself. We're coming into Chicago." Startled, he looked out the window and saw the city's crowded skyline. "But I haven't decided yet about half the act." He ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Brother, I wish this train would just keep on going." Chicago was Gene's first stop on a ten-week vaudeville tour. It was the first time he had been out of Hollywood in years, and it would be the first time he had been on a stage since Lend An Ear in 1949. He was as unstrung as a politician on election day and stayed that way until his first performance was finished. Then he knew everything was all right. The theater had been filled to capacity and people had stood three abreast in the side aisles. The audience was with him —he could feel it— a warm feeling that rolled up. over the stage in invisible waves, and the final ovation was deafening. Backstage, he pulled Miriam to him. "It's almost like a miracle," he said. It was the first time Gene had any inkling of his popularity. Back in Hollywood he had gone on making picture after picture, and although fan mail had come in to the studio by the truckload, he had little idea of the rising tide of affection felt for him by thousands of movie goers. Nobody told him; he didn't think to ask; and if he had, any answer given by a single person in the impersonal surroundings of a business office would not have carried much weight. Taken out of Hollywood, where the citizens are rather blase about movie stars, and plunged into the bright lights of other cities, he got the surprise of his life. When he and Miriam left the theater in Chicago that night they were caught up in an exultant mob. Gene's immediate reaction was fright, for it is a terrifying thing to be caught in such a milling crowd. He was lifted off his feet and backed into a brick wall He looked for Miriam, couldn't find her. Looking into the young faces before him, he realized that he was dealing with a mob of teen-agers. He recalled all the things he had read about these kids, how they went on rampages; tore .up theater seats; ripped clothes from their idols, and generally behaved like escaped lunatics. He began to feel annoyed, and then one little girl directly in front of him looked up apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nelson, I can't help pushing— it's the people in back of me." To his left, another piped up, "Where's Miriamis she all right?" (Continued on page 66) Sens changed dancing shoes after each number during his vaudeville show in Chicago last winter. The ten-week tour marked ms tirst stage appearance since Lend An Ear in 1949. They had Nelson surrounded everywhere he went on tour. He says he began to know his fans and understand them for the first time. Here he is with Chicago's Keen Teen Press Club. 43