Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1957)

Continued. Ingrid, here with family, celebrates what cynics thought couldn’t happen 1 *’ are sacred to me, Bogie and our children.” To which I add “bravo!” There are too many stories being written now that sacrifice good taste in exposing the most intimate secrets of one’s private life for the sensationalism they arouse, and the film sale that inevitably follows. A Ball With Lucy: “I Love Lucy.” No show could be more appropriately named for its star, for to know Lucille Ball is to love her. Lucille has never forgotten that I was on her bandwagon long before she and Desi Arnaz began to count their first million. Lucille can never do enough to express her appreciation. No sooner had I checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel, when her beautiful flowers of welcome arrived and she herself was on the phone. “Hey there, girl, when are you coming down to visit us in Palm Springs?” she greeted me. “We drive down every Thursday night after the show and stay until Monday, so you just name the date and the guest suite is yours.” Well, who am I to turn down an invitation like' that? On my weekend visit, we had cocktails with Kay and Clark Gable in their private bungalow on the Grounds of the Tennis Club. It was wonderful catching up with the “King” and his beautiful “Queen” for an informal visit like this. Clark, with his graying temples and bronzed body from his holiday in the sun, looked handsomer than ever, and it was obvious that in his marriage to Kay he has, at long last, regained the happiness he once shared with Carole Lombard and never thought he’d find again. Modest Greg: It was in Palm Springs, too, that I caught up again with Vero Anna Magnani, who lost Rossellini to Bergman, seemed unperturbed at Awards. She never looked so stunning nique and Greg Peck. I had gone to the screening of “Designing Woman” with them at M-G-M and had visited their Beverly Hills hilltop home for my first glimpse of six-months-old Anthony, their cherubic, blue-eyed baby son and now they were spending the weekend at La Quinta and had invited me to dine with them at The Beachcombers. After gorging ourselves, we stopped by the Racquet Club for a nightcap. Greg, with his usual modesty, announced to the man at the door, “I’m not a member, but we’d just like to come in for a nightcap.” “Only members and their guests are admitted!” snapped back the officious receptionist. And only an actor like Greg, in return for this rebuff, wouldn’t toss his weight around. He just laughed, and turning to Yeronique and myself cracked, “I guess I better start doing TV, so guys like this can recognize me in the future!” More Happy Memories of the Hollywood Scene: Set -visiting at 20th-Fox, Greer Garson, looking lovelier than ever, gave Steve Allen and Jayne Meadows a party. Philip Reed added decorum Metro, Warners’ and U-I, where I caught up with old chums like Deborah Kerr, Cary Grant, Jayne Mansfield, David Wayne, Joan Collins, Gene Kelly, David Niven, June Allyson, Fred MacMurray, John Ericson, Mervyn LeRoy, Andy Griffith, and met some new faces (to me) like Taina Elg, Rick Jason, Nick Adams and John Saxon . . . Meeting the singing idol, Tommy Sands . . . Admiring Clifton Webb’s beautiful new “Boy on a Dolphin” room in his Beverly Hills home, inspired by his recent visit to Greece . . . Luncheon at Romanoff’s with Bob Wagner, who assured me he is not marrying Natalie Wood or any of the girls with whom his name is linked. 58