Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1954)

Peter was three, Glenn came home, bearded and dusty, from Montana. When he reached down to pick Peter up, Peter pulled away and buried his face against my dress. Glenn and I looked at each other, stunned. That night, we became a family. After Peter fell asleep, Glenn and I sat in the darkened living room and talked. We talked about our dreams and the way those dreams centered around Peter. We talked about the qualities we wanted Peter to have and the man we hoped he would become. Glenn’s hard work had been for a house that we hoped to build ourselves and for an acre of land around it. But Peter needed Glenn more than he needed a white colonial house. We realized that this one dream would have to be postponed. We would have to roll up our | sleeves together and fight for our family. The rest of that year belonged to no one but Peter. Glenn took him to the zoo for the first time. Sitting happily in front of |Glenn, he rode his first horse. Summer days we spent at the beach. Autumn lights Glenn tucked Peter into bed, told him stories about his magic gumdrop tree and the little man who lives in the radio md coughs every time you turn the radio an and wakes him up and helped Peter ;ay his prayers. Late in the fall we took our dream out [of its pigeonhole, dusted it and decided we ! vould have to do something drastic. We > lid — something that opened our marriage o rumors and sly whispers and items in he gossip columns. I unpacked my dance foor and brushed the lint off my dancing ihoes. Night clubs in the east had been asking me to dance. I would dance my k shoes off for them, and in three months, I could contribute my share of our dream. This time, my career was easier for Glenn and me. We laughed at the rumors and at the friends who murmured, “I understand, dear. I’m so sorry.” Peter and his dad made great plans for those three months, and his dad understood that I wanted to contribute to our dream, to have some share in it. We were a family now, not just two people in love. So we got our house and our acre — in fact, three acres — of land in the canyons north of Beverly Hills, and we live there still. The younger movie-goers don’t know that there ever was a star named Eleanor Powell and don’t know there ever was a time when there wasn’t a movie star named Glenn Ford. But the two-story white farmhouse doesn’t belong to a movie star. It belongs to a family — a family that gets starved at 6:30 in the evening and spends its Sunday mornings in church and its Sunday afternoons hammering and sawing at things around the yard. Like every family, our biggest problem now is what to teach and how to raise our child. That summer afternoon when Peter was three, Glenn and I realized what an enormous responsibility we, like every parent, have. And, frankly, we were scared. We both had seen how easy it is for the son of a movie star to be spoiled. Teachers spoil him, playmates envy him, grownups pet him, until finally he learns to use his father as a weapon to get whatever he wants. So we have tried to unimpress Peter. He goes to public school and boys’ club, and he’s only been taken to two of Glenn’s movies, both Westerns. When he was younger, he was sure that Glenn was just a cowboy. Glenn would come down for breakfast dressed in old khaki pants and cowboy boots. Before he left for the studio, he’d pretend to call the stables to see if “White Star” was fit for roping cattle. If Glenn had a love scene with Rita Hayworth that morning, he’d change clothes in the car. Later, when Peter’s friends had informed him who Glenn Ford was, Glenn started taking Peter to the sets to show him acting is hard work. I’m pretty sure that Peter is unimpressed. A few months ago, he and I were fishing at the Santa Monica pier. Another little boy was fishing beside us, and in a few minutes Peter and the boy were solemnly discussing worms and flies. They had split a bottle of pop and were sharing hot dogs when the other boy saw Roy Rogers. “Gee,” the boy said. “Wouldn’t you like to have him for your dad?” I waited to see what Pete would say. Pete took another bite of his hot dog. “It’d be all right,” he said. “But I’ve got a mother who’s a Sunday-school teacher.” Glenn and I both believe you must plant qualities in a child, water them and make them grow. We try to show Peter what we want, rather than tell him. For example, I’m one of those people who wakes up each morning ready to greet the world. And Glenn has learned, to his sorrow, that one of the penalties of being married to me is that I won’t live with a grouch. That’s doubly true when the grouch is only nine years old. So, the first time I went into Peter’s room to wake him up and was met with a snarling, surly, “What’s nice about today?” and a hand reaching for a comic book, I pulled down the covers and gave Peter a couple of solid whacks where they would do the most good. So, Glenn sets a good example and allows himself the luxury of feeling grumpy Easier, surer protection for your most intimate marriage problem Tested by doctors. ..proved in hospital clinics Mail this coupon today NORFORmS VAGINAL SUPPOSITORIES Tested by doctors Trusted by women /• (Protection from germs) Norforms are now safer and surer than ever! A highly perfected new formula combats germs right in the vaginal tract. The exclusive new base melts at body temperature, forming a powerful, protective film that permits long-lasting action. Will not harm delicate tissues. (Protection from odor) Norforms were tested in a hospital clinic and found to be more effective than anything it had ever used. 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