Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1950)

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So easy ASTHMADOR ^//SLEEPLESSNESS (Due to Nervous Tension) MAKES YOU FEEL LONG FACED and DULL . . . try Miles Nervine for the welcome relief thousands enjoy. Follow the label. Avoid excessive use. Money refunded if not satisfied. At all drugstores. MILES NERVINE barely eighteen and none of us drank, but it was. So I asked him. He nodded and mumbled something about a jug in the rumble seat. By the time the boys in blue arrived, the incriminating evidence was safely out of sight. The man was so grateful for having been saved from what probably would have been a nasty time in court that he couldn't seem to thank me enough. "If there's anything I can ever do for you," he fairly begged, "please, please let me know." He handed me his card. He was the owner of a large New York beauty shop. "Thank you," I began, "but there really isn't . . ." And then an incredible idea exploded in my mind! "See him?" I said, pointing to Bill who was standing nearby talking with the others. "Well," I went on, taking a deep breath, "I want his hair dyed. Red." The man looked at me questioningly. "But it's red now," he said. "Auburn, anyway." "I know," I said. "But I want it real red. Blazing red, Fireman red." Bill looked up, and saw us eyeing him. "Hey," he said coming over, "what's going on here?" I grinned at him. "A secret," I said, and refused to tell him until we were alone. When I did tell him, he let out a roar of protest that must have been heard for miles. But remember what I said? There's a family joke (?) that I usually get my way. The next day my erstwhile auburnhaired husband emerged from a shop in mid-town Manhattan a little pale around the gills, but with the loudest red hair this side of Killarney. "I feel terrible," he kept moaning. "You don't either," I told him. "And you look grand." A few days later we were at the dock waiting for the Howards. They came down the gangplank, eagerly searching us out in the crowd. Then Leslie saw Bill. He took one look, and his eyes widened in amazement. Then he said in a kind of awed whisper, "Red Reagan!" It was the beginning of a new career for Bill. It was his first part of any dramatic significance, and the one which brought him national recognition. It brought him his first Hollywood offer, for Lewis Milestone came across the country to see "Red Reagan," then persuaded Bill to come to California to play the part of Sergeant O'Hara in a motion picture he was about to make. Perhaps some of you remember "Rain." It was Bill's first picture. We had every intention of returning to New York after the picture was over. "Don't buy anything we can't take on the Chief," Bill kept warning me. I didn't intend to buy so much as a pair of Mexican jumping beans. All I was thinking about was how lovely it was back in New York. The thing that changed my attitude toward California was simple — an invitation to Palm Springs. In the old days, before the Springs became" famous as a resort for the wealthy and the weary, it was just another hole in the desert. But there was something about it that got me. The "land for sale" signs began to tantalize me, and a few days later I found myself writing a check payable to a real estate man. When I got back to Hollywood and the magic had dimmed slightly, I felt that I'd been a weak and foolish female. Whatever would Bill say? Well, we could always sell it back, I decided, and with this reassuring thought I confessed to my husband that I had made a purchase we couldn't possibly take with us on the Chief. When I finished, he said, "Well, I guess I better go have a look at it. Man ought to see what his wife's been up to. For better or for worse, remember?" He gave me one of those funny, quick grins and patted me on the head with an air of paternal forgiveness. The next thing I knew, Bill had collected an architect, and a contractor. Six months later we had a ranch house in Palm Springs. And a few months later still, we had the beginnings of a bona fide ranch. Bill said there was no point in just pretending to be ranchers. Besides, it would be good for us to have a sound investment like a ranch to fall back on if times ever got tough. It was an unromantic approach I felt, but then Bill is much more of a realist than I am. There was certainly nothing romantic in the way Bill went about learning to be a rancher. It was sheer, unadulterated hard work. He approached it as he did everything else — with all of him. He read some books, but mostly he just went out and tried it out with his own hands. If blisters were pennies we'd have had a fortune. The bovs and I spent most of our time at the ranch while Bill was in pictures, and when we weren't there or trekking through the desert we stayed at home in Beverly Hills. Life was pleasant, and the kids and the ranch and Bill's career all grew and prospered. Then came 1941, when life stopped being pleasant and predictable for everyone. Tune In "DOUBLE or NOTHING" with Walter O'Keefe Every Morning and Every Afternoon on NBC Stations Read the true life story of Walter O'Keefe and see the beautiful full-page color portrait in TRUE STORY Magazine NOW ON NEWSSTANDS