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About his screen future, Peter says, “I don't want to become tagged as a personality. I want to be an actor — like Keenan Wynn, Spencer Tracy, Thomas Mitchell, Cary Grant or "Van Heflin. They know what they’re doing when they go on the set. They get everything out of it. I cahn’t come up to any of them yet — but that’s what I want to be. Just a good, solid actor.”
Since childhood — that’s what he’s wanted to be. Then in 1937 came the arm injury that made it possible, making impossible the military career for which he’d been headed.
“We were all reaching for some reason for it at the time it happened,” he says earnestly. “I’d always been so athletic. I kept wondering what I’d ever done that God would do this to me. But apparently it was for this,” he says, speaking of his motion-picture career.
Of his religion, Peter says simply, “Well, I believe in God — and things like that.”
Yes, a devout member of the Episcopal church (Church of England), Peter believes very much in God — which has something to do with the framed words in his bedroom at home. “Go out into the darkness and put thine hand into the hand of God. That shall be to thee better than light and safer than a known way.” And things like that — like the motto pasted in his scrapbook at home. “The only thing worth having is a smile. The only thing worth doing is making others laugh.”
Peter’s military life was all planned for him. He came of a long line of generals. He was to go to Sandhurst, thence to join the regiment of his father, who was knighted for heroism in World War No. 1, in his grandfather’s regiment, or his great-grandfather’s. Take a number — they were all Generals.
But for the accident to his right ann, the Lawfords would have stayed in London, Deauville, Paris or Monte Carlo, up to their crests in maids and valets. And would never have struck out like three musketeers on a world binge that eventually wound them up without money in their little white bungalow here. Where the tall General, with his pink cheeks, gray mustache and hair, tenderly tends his rose garden and bed of mignonette and Lady Lawford struggles to solve the mystery of a white cookstove that, as she says, “looks so cold and is so hot.” Nor would she have been cleaning her own dresses,
Out of the car, through the white gate to the bungalow where Peter Lawford lives
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