TV Radio Mirror (Jan - Jun 1957)

Answer: "When you say memorable I think of Alfred Drake's performance in 'Kismet.' That was beautiful. And W. C. Fields is the funniest man I've ever watched. But forgetting show business and speaking of people I personally know of, I would say Helen Keller is the most memorable woman. When you leave her presence you feel that you've been as close to the Deity as you ever will get on earth. What she has done for herself is what I call using your head. Maybe before you first meet her you feel sorry for her blindness. But you don't feel sorry for her when you leave. You feel sorry for yourself. Your miserable self. She is just so wonderful, so complete. And the greatest man I've ever met. That's easy. That would be Curtis Emerson LeMay. General LeMay is a man dedicated, selfless, conscientious, capable. Here is a man who is concerned with only one thing — the safety of his country. There he is commanding strategic bombing, which in reality is our only defense. Yet we don't give him much help. His personnel are underpaid. Officers in his command are constantly being offered double their pay to work for industry. A technical sergeant, at the end of enlistment, can go to work for industry at a weekly salary that equals his monthly pay in the Air Force. It's Curt's job to persuade these officers and men to stay on even though they may have families to be concerned about. General LeMay is a patriot in the truest sense. He deserves some help. We've got to be honest with ourselves. These people are there to protect our lives. They fall into a special category with other groups like teachers. They are not getting the respect and compensation equivalent to the importance of their work." Seventh question: What ^8 the most difficult problem you have ever faced? Answer: "It's a continuing one. It's crowds. I can't walk into a grandstand or a restaurant or theater without feeling squeezed in. I've watched other entertainers do it and some like the recognition. One of our big-name comedians — his name doesn't matter — I once saw him at a race track. He stood up and shouted, 'Hey, everyone, here I am. Here I am.' Now, for him it's different. He loves to be mobbed. Well, I've tried it every way. I've gone into a place with heavy glasses and a hat — and I've gone in with just no disguise to brazen it out. But no matter what I do I just can't feel comfortable. If it were a matter of sitting down in a parlor with these people and just relaxing, it would be different — but when it's coming at you like a street parade, I don't know. I'm not, I guess, the real celebrity type." Eighth question: What makes you angry? Answer: "It's when people do stupid things and louse themselves up. It doesn't really make me angry. It mostly hurts. That's aU. Thinking, that's what it comes to again. It's fine to be handsome or have a lovely voice or a beautiful face and figure. But what good is any of it if there isn't some gray matter up there being put to use?" Ninth question; What advice would you give a youngster who hopes to go into television? Answer: "Surveys show that there are 2.6 persons to each set. So you got to think about talking to them. Not to millions, not to a mass, but just one or two. You are in their living room and they want closeups so they can see your face and eyes. They are going to get to know you intimately. Well, you'd better grow on them, . and your personality develops by improv ■ ing your character. You've got to do things. Tl Study. Sports. Travel. But stay away from the joints. You've got to grow. Be interesting. Character is the one word. Above J j and beyond talent you've got to have I ' character, for television brings people just as close as your next door neighbor." Tenth question: What kind of world do you hope for your children? Answer: "The kind of world where we have eliminated the constant threat of war. And I think we can do it by being so powerful that no one wiU attack us. You know it's going to take only one plane and one bomb to blow up a whole city. And the enemy can get through despite radar and fighter planes. You know that during World War II, no American bombing mission was ever stopped short of its target by enemy action. So let's face it. If we can do it, so can the enemy. So what's the answer? We must be ready to knock out any enemy the moment war is declared. We must have long-range intercontinental bombers that can sit back here like a . cocked pistol and scare anyone from fight 1 ing. We don't have enough bombers or enough trained personnel or enough bases now. We have to get them quickly. And then, when the threat of war is eliminated, we start to set the world right. There is no excuse for people starving anywhere. There is no reason for people working as they did a thousand years ago —and in some parts of the world they are that far behind. Now with atomic fission for power the standard of living of the entire world must be raised." (Continued from page 39) carries you to what appears almost to be a small camp grovmd, just the thing for informal open-air entertaining. Barbecue, TV, refrigerator, radio, and dance area are covered by a diingled cabana. Just outside, a green lawn and blue-green pool. The house and grounds, together, make a a paradise to fulfill any woman's dreams. "Gail had been looking for a house for some time," says her mother, Mrs. W. B. Grayson. "Suddenly she found this place— and, believe it or not, she fell in love with the groimds and not the house. In fact, never thinking of the house, she bought it for the charm of the surroundings." Then she adds: "Gail decorated the house herself— or, I should say, in conjunction with a decorator. But she was in a quandary. No sooner had the house been turned over to her than she had to go out on the road. "She was on the telephone with the decorator every day," her mother smiles, "to see how things were coming, making sure he wasn't putting in something she didn't want. Then frequently, while on tour, she'd see a piece of furniture she liked. For example, in Texas, Gail found a pair of matching tables she thought would be just right for the living room. She called the decorator, describing them to him. She did this a number of times with various pieces of furniture. Then she'd begin worrying for fear he'd get her descriptions confused. She called back saying, 'Don't get it, don't get it! Wait till I get T home . . .' When she finally returned, there * were just bits and pieces— nothing was " completed." Now, however, the house is a fair reflection of the two main facets of Gail's per68 Golden Girl sonality: Annie Oakley, the tomboy, and Gail Davis, the ultra-feminine woman. Take the captain's chairs in the dining room, for example. They are made of heavy rock maple and weigh about fifteen pounds each. Heavy Dutch doors are in many rooms of the house. The furniture in the living room is substantial — just as Gail is substantial and down to earth. Like Annie Oakley, she's a gal with both feet planted squarely on the ground. In the library-den, Gail's Annie Oakley scripts fill one wall; they are bound in white calf. For decorator touches, she has "Annie Oakley" dolls sitting on the floor and in the corner of a bunk-like couch. Horsehead bookends, a leather lamp shade, and steerhorns on the wall carry the western theme. There is a small bronze bust of her Western boss, Gene Autry, on the maple table. And the kitchen is the final proof that Gail loves the West — from the saddle-bridle-and-Stetson design in the wallpaper to the shiny brass coffee pot and knife-holder, every detail spells easy "chuckwagon" living. Gail's bedroom, on the other hand, reflects the second facet of her personality — her frilly, little-girl and feminine side. The bedroom is pink and white: White curtains with pink background; white rugs, pink hassock; white dressing table, set against a pink rice paper wall (which she specially ordered) ; and, finally, Gail's white toy kittens on top of her bed are balanced by her pink slippers on the floor below. A little pink appears in all the roomsGail jokingly asks, "Guess my favorite color?" In all the rooms, that is, except the dining area. "But," says Gail, "I haven't finished the dining room . . . I'll get some pink in there yet!" Gail's clothes also reflect the two basic aspects of her personality. She literally lives in Western garb all day— but the minute she gets home she changes to frilly feminine clothes. When she is on tour, however, out come the tailored cowgirl suits. Even here, though Gail knows she has to be in character for her appearances, she doesn't go overboard. Her specially tailored suits, which are extremely expensive, have only a slight Western flairnothing so extreme that you could say: "Well, there goes a cowgirl." At home, her favorite outfit is a hostess coat— pink, naturally. She also likes to wear peasant clothes, since she considers full skirts and full sleeves extremely feminine. Though Gail does not wear toreador pants, she does wear slacks; but the blouses she wears with the slacks are never too tailored. As to jewelry, Gail infrequently wears a plain single necklace or a gold chain bracelet with pearls— then she considers herself really dressed up. Gail is completely un-HoUywood. She is unpretentious, not gaudy or ostentatious. She loves home. In fact, she loves both her homes— the new one in Hollywood, and her parents' place in Little Rock, Arkansas. She has an I-love-smalltowns attitude. During the filming season, she takes every opportimity available to fly to Arkansas for a visit— sometimes for only two days. But, of course, each flight is a trip of love, for Gail not only goes home to visit with her mother and sister, but also to see her own little five-yearold daughter Terry. Terry— or "Boot," as Gail fondly nicknamed her— is a bundle