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Running away from home with a small show, Joan Crawford eventually reached a Broadway chorus and screen stardom.
Photo by Louise
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Of the hundreds of girls who secretly left home have become successful, and these warn their
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the manager of the laundry, had told her she was pretty, but she knew they told every girl that. Then one glorious day a singer at the Baltimore Hotel saw her.
"Why don't you learn to dance, and go on the stage?" the entertainer inquired. "I believe you would succeed. I'll help you, if you want me to."
She did help. She got Lucile this job with the "tab" show. No word was left with her mother. Lucile just dropped from view that night to go on her own — a step which has lured countless thousands to the "port of missing girls."
The train came to a stop in the Southern Missouri station and the company made its way to a cheap hotel. And that night the show opened, with Lucile in the cast. Her chance had arrived.
Frightened almost beyond words, she did her bit that first night, and then turned appealingly to see how she was received. A roar from the small audience was the answer.. Then came an encore — and another. For two weeks Lucile went over big. Her confidence \ was restored.
What happened ? Two weeks in Springfield, and enough money saved to get to St. Louis ; a short engagement in a chorus, then Chicago,
The career of Margaret Livingston dates from an early morning flight from her home in Salt Lake City.
ONE night in the fall of 1924 a train wound its way through the terminal yards at Kansas City, bound for Memphis, Tennessee. Aboard was a brownhaired, big-eyed girl, weeping bitterly. She was running away from home.
The train slid into the night, past the great stockyards and packing plants, and followed the tracks which skirt the banks of that murky, foul-smelling stream, the Kaw River. Presently it left the last of the sputtering street lights behind and emerged upon rolling prairies, dotted with farmhouses and great, silent barns. Not until the city was gone did the girl take her tear-stained face from the windowpane. Then she sank into her seat and took stock of her future.
At her feet was a lone suit case, containing some moreor-less shabby dresses, an extra pair of shoes slightly run down at the heels and one cherished pair of silk stockings. Her purse contained little money. Yet she was starting on a great adventure. A little "tab" show, playing in an obscure theater in Kansas City, had taken her on for a tryout, and the company was billed to open in Springfield, Missouri, the following night.
Life had not been kind to Lucile LeSeuer. She had been ambitious. But as she worked, first as a waitress, then as a laundry helper, and endeavored to get some schooling, she saw her dreams fade one by one, and she remained just a hired girl. Her mother, running a boarding house, could help her but little. Patrons in the restaurants, and
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