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Barbara Stanwyck
The courage my friend Barbara Stanwyck mentions in her letters has been given to me by her staunch friendship and kind thoughtfulness
Vivian Cosby
Editors' Note: Vivian Cosby, Broadway playwright, had just begun her new work in Hollywood when, on the morning of New Year's Day, 1939, her dress caught tire. Ablaze from head to foot, she fell unconscious to the floor. . . . When word went out from the hospital that she would live but that she would be a shut-in for many months, maybe years, Hollywood's most famous stars flocked to her bedside to pay tribute to the courage of this woman who could come up fighting after such an ordeal. Foremost in this legion of new friends has been Barbara Stanwyck. Without adding any words of our own we are going to let these letters, published with the permission of both, tell you of a moving side of Hollywood you rarely have an opportunity to glimpse. . . .
July 25, 1939
MY DEAR VIVIAN: I'm so glad you liked your room — and you don't need courage — you have enough for a whole army. As a matter of fact, I took some away with me!
I shall come in and see you one of these days. I'm at work again, but if I get a day off, then I'll drop by. Bless you,
Barbara.
Feb. 14, 1940
My dear Vivian:
I'm so glad you are getting along as well as you say. Let's hope and pray things will be brighter for you from now on. The public at large seemed to like "Remember the Night" — and I was rather pleased with it. I'm doing another in a week or so with the same director, Mitch Leisen — and I do enjoy working with him.
Thanks for writing to me. I do appreciate it, and excuse my scrawl. Since the hand injury I don't Avrite
very well any more. I guess I rate a penalty for not having sense enough to know that you shouldn't hit a window glass with your hand when the window sticks.
Good luck, Vivian, and bless you, Barbara.
Feb. 27, 1940
Dear Vivian:
You were sweet to be worried about that rumor, but don't worry about things you hear. Imagine putting a sinister conception on my window opening attempt. I tried to open the window, it stuck. I carelessly hit it with the heel of my hand. The glass broke and my wrist was badly cut. It was bleeding, and everyone was excited, and all I could think of was not bothering Bob, who was working. They took me to the hospital for the stitching that was necessary.
So I now hear the gossips tried to make something out of the fact that I didn't broadcast my stupidity. Well, I'm not the morbid type, and if I were.
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