Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

One Little Girl Against the World (Continued from page 50) ordinarily meets with her charge. This was because of Cheryl's extreme situation. And also because a very warm relationship had grown up between Mrs. Muhlbach and Cheryl. Mrs. Muhlbach has two children of her own, and she grew to love Cheryl. Cheryl and Mrs. Muhlbach were more like mother and daughter than probation officer and charge. "We wanted Cheryl to have as normal an environment as possible, hoping this would be the best thing for her. But with a child like this it's a gamble," the County probation officer sighed. "Before the school session began at Beverly High last September," he went on, "Mrs. Muhlbach went to the school and spoke to the principal, the dean of girls and several faculty members to pave the way for Cheryl, who would be starting her Junior year there. There was not only the problem of Cheryl's being accepted in school in spite of the notoriety connected with her, but also the question of Cheryl's ability to do well in school. She'd been in and out of so many schools in the past that even without the notoriety it still would have been a problem. She's not the best student. "Cheryl attended Beverly High and tried to be one of the crowd. The students tried to accept her as one of them. But things happened that were beyond control. Cheryl became nervous and withdrawn. She didn't mingle freely. She felt self-conscious, even though most of the kids there tried to treat her like everyone else. Things were happening inside this girl to make her feel different. She shivered and shook. The more she was with the other girls at school, the more she realized how different she was. Even though she was treated like one of them, she was always afraid of what might come up. This kept her in a state of tension and nerves, which was destroying her. "She lived in a constant state of fear and apprehension. She wondered what the students at Beverly really thought of her. "And she lived, always, in constant fear of having the newspapers suddenly print her story again. About every two or three months a rash of publicity would come out about her, re-hashing the old episode. The sorry mess in her life was always being dug up and splashed in the papers. She was terribly frightened. Even though the case was over and she had been completely exonerated, she wasn't allowed to forget, it." Here's what the kids thought of her: One Sunday Cheryl woke and discovered that the Sunday supplement of the papers had made a big story of the Cheryl Crane Case all over again, as part of a series they were doing on sensational murders. When Cheryl saw it, she became sick. , Her immediate reaction was that of shame — and fear. She said to her grandmother, whimpering, "I can't go to school tomorrow. I just can't. All the kids in school have read this. How can I face them? Yet I can't stay away from school. They won't let me. I'll have to go back some day. What shall I do?" She slumped on the bed and sobbed. The poor child was trapped. The grandmother didn't know how to handle it. Neither did Lana, when she was called. As she did so often when she was confused and frightened, Cheryl turned to Jeanette Muhlbach. Mrs. Muhlbach came over — knowing how desperately Cheryl needed her — and held Cheryl's hand in 64 hers, talking to her for a long time, trying to comfort the weeping girl. Strengthened by this session, Cheryl decided that she would go to school the next day and face it. Mrs. Muhlbach was so proud of her. She said, "I loved her all the more for arriving at that decision. I said to myself, 'You're worth saving.' She had to fight the world all by herself. That's the tragedy of her life right now — fighting the world." Back in school the next day, Cheryl tried to hide from the other girls. She was even quieter than usual. When any girl approached her, she ran, fearing the criticism or taunts she was sure would come from the girl. She ducked a group of girls at lunch. As she passed hurriedly along the broad green campus to her next class, a girl ran up to her and handed her a paper that was rolled up and covered with wax paper. "Here," said the girl. "This is from us. Take this and look at it when you have a chance." Then the girl ran away to her own class. Cheryl stood there, her heart pounding, unable to move. Shame froze her. She didn't know whether to throw away the rolled paper or not. She dreaded looking at it. She remained this way like a frightened little animal for many moments. Finally, she slipped off to a quiet corner and opened it, her hands trembling. When she finally managed to smooth the paper, she read what it said: Dear Cheryl, We girls at Beverly High want you to know that we read the Sunday paper. We also want you to know that this made no difference to us at all. We think you're a good sport and a fine girl. We like you very much. Forget that story in yesterday's paper. We're forgetting it, too. Underneath it were the signatures of 360 girls at Beverly. . . . The probation report continues "Of course," says the probation officer, "this incident did a great deal to help Cheryl. But the fear and shame she experienced earlier was something that left another scar on her spirit. All of these experiences, accumulating, couldn't help but have a damaging effect on her. Every time she turned around, went anywhere, she was afraid somebody might be staring at her, whispering about her. Often they were. Every time she picked up a newspaper, she was afraid her case would be blazoned across the pages again. She could never get away from it. She felt trapped. She was a teen-age girl with the usual emotional stresses of a teen-ager. But with the additional problems of those fears, and the feeling that she was an outcast. We couldn't let her go off the deep end. "We were watching her closely. We could see this happening. We couldn't continue to expose her to the unexpected blows of the outside world. This girl had to be protected, particularly during the crucial teen years when she was developing into a woman. In a sense, she had to be placed in a protective shell, to be shielded from the wear and tear of the outside world. Continued exposure might have ruined her beyond powers of rehabilitation. "So we recommended that she be placed in the El Retiro School for Girls. She needed the guidance, the counseling and protection of El Retiro. Cheryl tried her best to adjust to the outside world. I'm afraid the outside world couldn't let her. People can be cruel sometimes. . . ." The first cruelties Even though the kids at Beverly High tried hard to treat Cheryl like one of their own, things would crop up to hurt. At the beginning of the school year last September, when it was first learned that Cheryl would be attending the school, there were many jokes about it. The main one being: "I hear Cheryl is going to work in the school cafeteria — in charge of knives." Later, as the kids got to know her, this crack was never uttered again. Also, although the girls at Beverly really liked her, she could never, ever really be one of them. She could never really live down that horrible "Thing." Like the girls in all high schools, there are cliques at Beverly. Cheryl was not excluded — but well, when the girls would make dates to spend the night at each other's homes. Cheryl was never one of those invited. You know how it is. The mothers didn't feel quite right about permitting a girl who'd done what she'd done to be in such close contact with their own daughters. The kids at Beverly say Cheryl was quiet. Actually, she was withdrawn, and scared. It would have taken a remarkable person to give Cheryl the guidance and home atmosphere she required. This was not the normal child. Mrs. Mildred Turner loved Cheryl, but the girl was beyond her. Mrs. Turner — as the probation officer said — "hadn't had an easy life herself." She is not young — fifty-nine — not experienced in raising a teen-age girl in normal circumstances. When her own daughter, Lana. was a teen-ager, it was Lana who ran Mama, not Mama who ran Lana. Lana was quite wild, was a movie star and breadwinner. Mrs. Turner is a mild little woman, unable to wield authority. Also, she herself was frightened. She was afraid for Cheryl. She was always afraid that the child might get into trouble, without meaning to. This would be disastrous. The child is a ward of the court, on parole, and any misstep could lead her into deep waters again. Also, she realized that the girl, now developing into a tall, full-busted young woman with maturing desires, would have all the problems — and more — that go with teen dating. The child was extremely vulnerable. Some boys wanted to go out with her in order to get to Lana and have Lana get them into pictures. Maybe the girl would get into trouble with a boy. The girl wanted so much to love and be loved. She was so confused. Mrs. Turner didn't know what to do with her. And the grandmother was very lenient with her, felt sorry for her — the probation officer could see that she couldn't really control this girl. As for Cheryl's parents— they gave her everything money could buy. Little else. They meant well, but neither Lana nor Steve Crane have the kind of sense of values a girl like this needs. Lana bought Cheryl a white mink stole, beautiful clothes — bulky Italian sweaters, bought dresses for her in quantities of a dozen at a time. Lana took her to previews and premieres, arranged dates for her with charming young movie actors, like George Hamilton, for instance. George is handsome, suave, a real charmer — but Cheryl was tongue-tied and felt inadequate with him. "I'm sure he doesn't like me." she thought miserably, but her mother and Fred May joined them later, and she tried so hard to pretend to her gorgeous, poised mother that George Hamilton was impressed with her. The kid was subjected to so many tensions, to so much she felt she couldn't live up to. Everything was piling up to make her feel more insecure. She often felt, in those social contacts that Lana arranged, that she was disappointing