Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1962)

problem for him. She could demand and get a big chunk of money; she could demand and get custody of their two daughters; but she couldn’t stop him from divorcing her.” “But if she changed her mind and wanted out?” I asked. “She could get a divorce from Burton in England on the grounds of adultery? “Is that it?” I asked. “I didn’t say that,” the lawyer replied. “I said that adultery is one of two grounds for divorce in England. But charging it is one thing, proving it is another. Except, come to think of it, she wouldn’t have to prove adultery. All that she’d have to do is allege ‘inclination and opportunity’ for adultery and then produce witnesses to back her up. “So I guess you can still write your magazine piece.” “Yes you can,” said the psychologist, “but I don’t think it will be the same angle as you had in mind. Because I don’t think Richard is going to leave Sybil.” “Why not?” my lawyer friend and I demanded in the same breath. “Didn’t he once say that he wouldn’t break up his marriage?” “True,” I nodded. “And his precise words were: ‘Liz knows that I am not going to break up my family. We always stick together.’ “But that was some time ago. . . .” “Nevertheless, I seriously doubt that Burton will leave his wife. He’s the kind that loves and runs away so he can live to love another day. And when he runs away, who does he run to? To Sybil. Back to the safety and security of his wife who understands all and forgives all. Can you imagine Liz Taylor, if she became Mrs. Burton, allowing him to stray and play? And then welcoming him back? And can you imagine him accepting a situation where he cant play and stray?” He laughed. “Write your piece,” he said. “You can even use your same title — ‘Why Wedding Bells Toll Liz and Burton’s Doom.’ Just make sure you know which wedding bells you’re talking about.” I began to laugh too. “You psychologists are all alike,” I said. “Sly! You mean that the wedding bells which doom Liz and Burton are old ones, right?” He nodded. “They rang on February 5th, 1949, right?” “Right.” “They rang for Sybil and Richard, right?” “Right.” And come to think of it, he must be right — these fellows really do understand people better than people understand themselves. So this is the piece I wrote. — Jim Hoffman LINDSAY CROSBY & . .v. Him Continued from page 63 father and son was known to everyone. This latest Crosby crisis was not one that Bing could handle with ease. He must now think back once again and wonder, speculating to what extent, if any, he was responsible for the torment in his youngest son. A portion of the blame for the continuing distorted picture of Bing must rest with Bing himself, for he has seldom given the press an open opportunity to present the honest picture of himself as a father and a man. While throwing a screen around his activities and convictions, Bing nevertheless has been known to toss caution to the winds and “pop off” as he did a few years ago when he told a syndicated reporter that he believed he had failed his sons by giving them less time and attention and more money and discipline than they deserved. It was brave of him to admit it. Bing: He tried Bing has probably worked harder at the proper upbringing of his children than most fathers, even if he hasn’t always been able to understand and cope with their problems. In his own deep grief over the death of Dixie, Bing did not lose sight of the fact that her passing left his youngest boy stricken. A few months afterward, he took Lindsay on an extended trip to Europe where they played golf and strived for a closer father and son relationship. Kindly as Bing’s intentions were, this might not have been what Lindsay’s inner wishes were at the time. A bright lad, he p was well aware of the tensions between Bing and his other brothers. He may have secretly resented being singled out as the one who needed help and wished that his brothers were with them on this important holiday. Of the whole family, Lindsay had spent more time than any of them with his mother in the years preceding her illness and the months prior to her death. With his brothers away at school and Bing finishing a picture at Dixie’s urging, Lindsay was the one who was constantly at her side during those final days. Who is to say what passed between mother and son? Dixie, it has been said, was never told that she was dying of cancer, but there is considerable doubt that this assumption is true. She could very well have been aware, between the ministrations of priests and the close observation of doctors, that she didn’t have long to live. How normal it would be, then, for her to have talked to her youngest son, knowing that the older boys would soon be away from home for good, and in her intense love for her husband have said to Lindsay. “Stay with your dad, he’ll need you.” Many a boy has thus assumed a responsibility which he could not in fact fulfill. In his important work, “The Adolescent Years,” William W. Wattenberg, in commenting on 'he effect of the death of a parent, writes: “Often, of course, death is followed by whole-hearted mourning. Then the family pitches in to establish new routines, and in a few months, on the surface at least, has worked out a new adjustment. “Another common pattern is built around the young person’s idealization of the parent. The good qualities of the dead person are amplified in imagination. Actions are judged by how he or she is imagined to view them from heaven. Such idealization may provide young people with a personal goal in life. It can also cause terrific emotional storms if the live ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★■* INVEST IN U. S. SAVINGS BONDS NOW EVEN BETTER ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★■A parent contemplates remarriage.” If one agrees with this simple premise, there is a clue to Lindsay Crosby’s temporary predicament. Speculation might be that in his subconscious he feels that he did not live up to his mother’s wishes, which if expressed in moments of extreme pain, were not binding, though he could readily believe them to be. Or, what of his earlier desire to become a priest? Speculation might also be that in bis subconscious he feels he did not live up to God’s wishes. Only once did Lindsay stage a surprise revolt. Early in 1958. a few months after his father had wed Kathy Grant, Lindsay quietly left home and went to live with Gary, assuring his brother “in exile” that Bing knew what he had done. According to Gary, at the time, Bing disowned them both. Even when Lindsay returned at Christmas time with gifts for the family, it was reported that he was turned away with his armful of presents and told that he wasn’t wanted. Naturally, it hurt! An unfortunate predicament Bing, at the time, had not mellowed in his understanding of his sons. He was harshly disappointed at their seeming rejection of him, probably feeling that they were inflicting punishment because of his marriage to Kathy. Nothing could be more untrue, for today each of the boys admire and respect their father’s young wife. What will the future hold for the most devoted and least selfish of all the Crosbys? Lindsay Crosby will find that out to his lasting satisfaction if he will pursue the recommendations of his doctors, for there is nothing shameful about psychiatric treatment. A long-time close friend of the family sums up the situation well when he says, “The Crosbys are a kaleidoscope of all American families with highs and lows, bright colored moments of great happiness and dark hues from emotional outbursts taken too seriously. The experience Lindsay Crosby is going through now may weld them all together in permanent love and affection.” And that is how it should be. — Jim Fleming