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Ray Milland Once Walked Alone
{Continued -from page 53) morning, Ray stood praying in church. Flanked by diminutive worshippers — vshich intensified his selfconsciousness — he closed his eyes tight to blot out the picture. Suddenly his nose began to bleed. Terror gripped his heart. He thought he was going to faint.
"I won't walk out and have everyone stare at me," he half-whispered to himself. "I can't stand to have them look — I can't —I cnn't.'"
As nearly as he can recall, it was this adolescent, teen-age incident that marked Ray's life. From that moment on, an overwhelming shyness was born within him and he was driven by the desire to keep moving and remain vmattached. Paradoxically, while faraway places beckoned his restless soul, another part of him yearned for anchorage and roots.
Torn between these conflicting emotions, Ray developed a shy, retiring personality as he came of age. He felt unwanted, inferior and insecure most of the time. On the defensive, his fear of attracting attention made him perverse to a point where his withdrawal actually made him more conspicuous. He brought on the reputation for being easily bored, for being conceited, unpredictable and aloof. In many instances, the accusations were deserved, but rarely were the reasons for his outward actions understood.
Aroiuid Hollywood, Ray was known as a man who walked alone. He tried to mix, but even to his closest friends he remained a mystery, a man they might like but could never understand. General impression was that he was searching for something and, despite his loved ones and his worldly goods, untU he found this something he would remain an unhappy, elusive man.
Finally, at one point, his marriage hit a brief breach. There was no tangible cause or reason, which only increased the pain. Once again, Ray just felt his world was closing in on him and he was filled with protest against conforming to a set pattern of living. He didn't know what he wanted, but he thought he didn't want what he had. Fortunately, he found out how wrong he was.
"The solution to it all was very simple," Ray banters today. "But all I had to do was find it — which only took about twenty-five years! I had to learn how to live with myself — and, when a man learns how to do this, he automatically knows how to live with others. Then he becomes a peaceful man."
JVIellowed, matured, Ray now not only has peace of mind, but his capacity for appreciating it knows no bounds. His friends and family revel in the change, because they're so happy to see him released from the depression that threatened to engulf — perhaps ruin — his life.
In spite of himself, rather than because of himself, Ray has always been successful, but today he's a man who can appreciate the success. Currently, he's in the midst of making Meet Mr. McNutley, his first radio and television series. He's playing the character of a man with more brains than brawn, a charming, witty professor in a college for women. Sometimes this man is forgetful — when his mind is on the better things in life (and it usually is) , he walks in the clouds and his feet are apt to take the wrong paths. Great cooperation from the cast and crew of Meet Mr. McNutley even enabled Ray to sandwich in a prize movie plum, director Alfred Hitchcock's "Dial M for Murder."
"Each day that I live, my life becomes
more precious to me," confesses Ray. "I have what I want, at last. In a certain sense I was blind and deaf before, so I missed out on many things within reach. My search ended the day I discovered 1 was searching for something I could find within myself. But until I had lived a lot and learned the hard way, I just couldn't recognize the source. In the meantime, the going was pretty rough at times.
"When you feel emptiness, lack of purpose— or call it what you may — until you learn how to live with yourself, there is no peace. This full realization finally hit me last year when I took my family to Switzerland. I was scheduled to direct a picture and fulfill a great ambition. Plans went haywire, but since we had a lease on a Swiss chalet, we stayed on.
"We saw no one. There were no night clubs, daily gossip columns, ringing telephones, or cocktail parties choked with gay, giddy people — all trying to prove something. After Mai — my wife Muriel — did the shopping, we took long rides behind a horse-drawn sleigh. Each evening, Vicki and Danny — our daughter and son — would ski down the slope to the little village and pick up the mUk. Each dawn, a new blanket of snow enveloped our world with silence and peace.
"Naturally, such Utopian existence was transitory, but it gave me time to do nothing but relax and unwind, time to take inventory — time to think and think. One night, I took a long walk through the snow. Home, Hollywood, the usual cares and competition, seemed millions of miles away. Instead of dreading the return to routine, however, for the first time I looked forward to it.
"Why do I suddenly feel this way? I asked myself. What's come over me? I'm calm, the pressure is gone. I feel like I've found a buried treasure — and of course I had! My wife, my children, their unselfish love — plus the knowledge that we all belonged together — this was it. I belonged! This is what I'd wanted and searched for most of my life. I had never actually experienced the complete feeling of belonging before. Now I knew I could live with myself in peace."
The Millands returned home in time to celebrate their twenty-second wedding anniversary. On the morning of that special day, Ray made an announcement at the breakfast table.
"Let's drive down to Balboa," he beamed. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could find a house on the bay? We could stay there weekends and whenever I didn't have to work."
"I'd love it and it would be so good for the children, too," answered Ray's understanding wife. "But please, dear, don't build up your hopes. You know houses are at a premium on Lido Isle. I hate to see you disappointed."
"It's right that we should have it," said Ray in return. "I have a feeling that we will."
The house was waiting for them! They bought it and had a wonderful time decorating it. The day they moved in was the happiest of their lives.
"We each have chores to do," grins Ray. "Mai runs the house, I market and barbecue steaks, Vicki makes the beds, while Danny empties wastebaskets and sweeps the terrace. Sometimes we go to the movies, but usually we w^atch television and hit the sack by nine. It's a great life, but it took a long time. You know that old one about not being able to see the forest for the trees! That was my problem— but how peaceful and clear the view is now."
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