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■ An intimate friend writes a charming story about a man he calls "Squire" and who is much more concerned about being a real father to his four sons than he ever was about singing
IF you want to see Squire Crosby for yourself, just take a ride out to Santa Anita or Del Mar. You'll usually find Bing at one of these race tracks any day he's not working. But don't look for him in the clubhouse, among the movie celebrities and society bluebloods — where the silver foxes and ermines are so thick they remind me of a trappers' convention.
Bing's reason for attending the races is old-fashioned — he goes to see the ponies run.
The point I'm making is that Bing is a plain, simple guy. Some folks claim he's the richest personality in Hollywood.
Personally, I don't know how rich Bing is. And I don't give a darn. In fact, I've often told him I don't believe he files an income tax return. He just telephones Washington and asks Uncle Sam, "How much do you need?"
I have heard it said that only two present motion picture stars of any consequence have remained unchanged by stardom. One is Gary Cooper. The other Bing Crosby.
My acquaintance with Cooper is slight, but I'm willing to believe
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that of him. But as far as Bing's concerned, I can personally vouch that he's as regular as any one can be. He isn't a bit different today than he was nine years ago, when we first met back in New York.
I've never changed my opinion of him since that time.
It was pure coincidence that when I came to Hollywood years later, I landed at Paramount, where Bing was already a top bracket star. We happened to meet one day in the commissary. Bing, if I remember correctly, spotted me first, and instantly detached himself from a group he was lunching with and came over to my table.
"How are y', Hope," he said. "Glad to see you again."
We've been friends ever since. I like to call him Squire — not because down at his place at Rancho Santa Fe, near Del Mar, where he and Dixie and the kids usually spend the summer, he can live the life of an English squire. (At least, according to what I've read about squires). But because Bing's a real gentleman, sweet and kindly — and that's no crack.
We don't (Continued on page 72)
■ Mr. and Mrs. Bing Crosby at the premiere of Bing's picture, although he'd rather be at home, tucking the kids in their beds.
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR