Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1963)

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He is ninety-eight years old! “I wanted Vinnie to see his grandfather so badly,” Mama Julie told me. “After all, how much longer can he live?” Mama Julie calls her father a “withering flower.” “Oh, certainly Papa still has all the characteristics he possessed as a young man, but at ninety-eight — well, let’s face it. . . .” He longs to see Vince “Still and all, Papa has some zest and enthusiasm left for life. He predicts he’ll live to be over a hundred. But his one remaining wish on earth is to see Vinnie. “ ‘Why don’t you bring the boy over to see me?’ Papa pleads every time I visit him. What can I tell him? ‘He’s very, very busy,’ I say. Papa shakes his head. He smiles. He tells me he understands how it is with television and movie stars. “Yet it isn’t right. Old as he is, Papa has feelings. When Vinnie was a baby he was Papa’s pride and joy. Papa adored him. Papa would die the happiest man in the world if he could only see Vinnie — just once.” Vince Edwards’ mother wasn’t asking for the world. She was merely appealing to her famous son for a simple show of love and affection, the same simple love and affection that all the other grandchildren have for Grandfather Morante. “I’ve done all I could,” Mrs. Zoine said resignedly. “It’s up to Vinnie from here on out. I can’t force him to do it if he doesn’t want to.” Mrs. Zoine was particularly bitter toward the people who surround Vince in his business. She blames them more than she faults her son for his attitude. “I have no doubt Vinnie is extremely anxious to visit me, his grandfather and his old neighborhood,” Mama Julie said. “But his agent and the people at ABC are holding him back. They don’t want him to come over. They’re afraid of the crowds that would mob Vinnie. And maybe there are other reasons that I haven’t been able to figure out. “Yet I think Vinnie is a big enough star to warrant a stand against these people. They’re like molasses in his hair. He can’t move without an okay from them. They’ve even tried to shut me up. But I won’t stand for it. I’m not afraid of them.” Mrs. Zoine went so far as to say that the people who guide her son’s destinies in the entertainment world don’t dare allow Vinnie to visit Brooklyn for fear of associating him in public print with the poverty and slums that blighted his onceproud Brooklyn neighborhood. “In a way,” Mrs. Zoine said sadly, “I don’t especially want Vinnie to see what the old neighborhood is like either. There have been so many changes that I don’t think he’d recognize it. He might even be frightened when he sees what’s happened.” Despite Vince’s refusal to visit his mother and the urgency of seeing his aged grandfather, the big irritation still was his reluctance to write home. “He doesn’t even write to his brothers or sisters,” Mama Julie told me, recalling an episode involving big brother Joe's daughter Karen. “Vinnie had made plans with Joe to have Karen come out to Hollywood for a visit during her high school vacation last Summer. Then the last minute he called and said he was forced to change his own plans, that he had to go to Europe to make ‘The Victors.’ “Vinnie, however, insisted that shouldn’t make any difference to Karen, that she still could come out and stay at his place in Hollywood. But Karen wouldn’t go. “It’s funny, isn’t it? He invites her out when he knows he isn’t going to be able to go through with the plans. But I suppose that’s show business.” Mama Julie turned to me with a smile breaking through the sadness of her face. “I’m a funny person,” she murmured in a thin voice. “I should have nothing to complain about. Vinnie has made me so happy by his success in television and movies. I am such a proud mother. And he has been a very good son in most ways. He always telephones at least once a week. On my birthdays, on holidays, on other special occasions he sends telegrams, candy and flowers. It’s cheaper to write “But I always say to him when he phones, ‘Vinnie, it would be so much easier and less expensive to take paper and pencil and write your poor old mother a nice long letter.’ He laughs and says, ‘Mom, I’d rather hear your voice.’ “I can understand it. He never did like t to write. And the phone is so much easier. But a letter is better.