Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1920 - Feb 1921)

Unconventional Tommy Thomas Meighan is a most surprising person, for he refuses to accept the time-honored mannerisms of stardom, and remains — just a regular fellow. By Ted Evans in such atrocious suits as those he wore in part of "Civilian Clothes." It has been said that every person has a "secret life," even a pious old deacon or a picture censor — some tendency toward a clandestine, perhaps shameful, practice. Tommy is no exception. We happen to know his secret. In telling it we break a confidence, but we feel he has no right to deceive the public. On certain nights he disappears mysteriously, usually in company with that dare-devil companion of his, Tony Moreno. No one at the athletic club knows where they go, which bodes no good. Sometimes they take packages with them, acting rather sheepishly, we think, in the way they handle said articles. Once we tagged along, sworn to serecy. They went to the Los Angeles Orphans' Home, where they were hailed familiarly as "Tommy and Tony." Sister Cecilia, official mother for the children, informed us that they were the Santa Claus fathers of the home and the honored guests at all celebrations given by the orphans. Tommy has interested many stars in this home, and he sees to it that they demonstrate their interest in writing — on checks. His magnetism gets over on the screen even when he wears such atrocious suits as he did in "Civilian Clothes. " I wish you'd tell us something about Tommy Meighan— I don't mean about his work on the screen, but about just what sort of a person he is. I think he must be a mighty good scout and I want to know if I've got him sized up right. "A man's love affair is his own business." That's what Tommy Meighan told Grace Kingsley, when she went to interview him for her series of "Romances of Famous Film Folk." But he finally told her all about his one big romance, and the story of it will appear in the January issue of PICTUREPLAY MAGAZINE. No one who has ever seen Tommy on the screen will want to miss it. THAT is a bit from a letter I received a short time ago, and that appeal is the reason for this particular story. I'm rather glad to have the chance to write this story about Tommy, because it happens that he is a most extraordinary person— even more so off the screen than on. Among the other stars of the Hollywood film colony, Tommy is unique — I might say "a genius." His habits and conduct are freakish in the extreme, certainly exotic to the colony. For instance : He doesn't own a motor car. He "pals"— actually pals with his wife, thus exciting notoriety. After being introduced to a person of low rank, such as a writer, a banker, a studio door man, a newsie, or any other ordinary citizen, he invariably remembers to speak to them and call them by name when passing them on the street. One day I saw him standing on a corner with his wife. He was waiting for a street car ! He dresses and acts like a business man. He lives in an artistic, comfortable house ; not a palace, by any means. Furthermore, and perhaps this is the most unusual thing about Tommy, no one has been heard to say: "I don't like Thomas Meighan." You think this a trite compliment? You don't know the film colony, where good feeling among stars is much like that between presidential candidates. Wherever a star stands or sits on screen is usually the center of attention. Wherever Tommy stands or sits off screen also is the center of attention. He has a quiet magnetism that is as effective in a clubroom as in a feminine drawing-room, a magnetism that gets across on the screen even when he appears Oftentimes great consignments of gifts without a name arrive at the home. Sister Cecilia always guesses the identity of the donor. Yet Tommy says he can't afford an automobile for himself ! It was through Mr. Meighan's efforts that "The Miracle Man" was brought to the screen. His motive was quite selfish — Tommy's motives always are, according to him. He says that Continued on page 86 He lives in a regular housea palace. -not