TV Radio Mirror (Jan - Jun 1956)

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Fannye Rose was so insistent that she finally let her go. My sister rushed home, even ran the last distance from the streetcar stop to the house. The moment she saw the doctor in the hallway, she knew her fears were justified. She walked into Mother's room just five minutes before she passed away. I've never seen anyone more brokenhearted than Fannye Rose when Maurice and I arrived from St. Louis for the funeral. My husband — one of the most wonderful, understanding men in the world — knew what was on my mind the day after. That's why he suggested we move back to Nashville, where he continued his internship. Fannye Rose's and my close relationship, temporarily interrupted, was quickly reestablished. Only now I was sister, mother — and also her strongest supporter — when it came to convincing Daddy to let her do what she wanted to do most: Act. He hadn't objected to her being in plays at school, or appearing on our local radio station occasionally. But this newest idea of hers — working with a stock company — he didn't approve. On the other hand, I felt that, if it meant that much to her, she should go ahead, and I helped talk Daddy into giving his reluctant approval. It was during Fannye Rose's senior year in college that she really became serious about show business. As president of her sorority, she was sent to Vermont for a convention. On the way back, she visited a friend in New York City. There, as a result of an audition at a local radio station, WNEW, she was offered a job and immediately called home to get Dad's blessing. Instead, he became quite upset. The next morning, Dad, Maurice, and I had a council of war— so to speak — to decide what to tell Dinah. And we decided that, since it had been that easy for her to get a job, she should come home, finish college, then return to New York, because she certainly shouldn't have any trouble getting employment the year after. However, we agreed not to order her back. "If you don't finish college, you might regret it for the rest of your life," I told her when I called that afternoon. "But think of the opportunity I'm missing," she cried out unhappily. Point by point, I went over what Daddy and Maurice and I had discussed — the telephone bill was the biggest we've ever had — then left the decision up to her. Fannye Rose came home to finish school. A year later, having received her B.A. degree, she was back in New York City, changed her name to Dinah Shore — and had me worried. On the one hand, I felt certain she could look after herself all right. On the other — she was still my little sister, and I hated to see her in a big city, all alone. And so I talked some other girls I knew, who were also on their way to New York, into moving in with Dinah to look after her. She got the job she was after, but it didn't work out as well as she'd expected. Before long she found herself without enough funds to pay her way. Afraid that Dad might use this opportunity to make her come home — he still didn't like the idea that his daughter was in show business— Maurice and I secretly sent her some money. To our surprise, when Daddy found out he insisted on doing his share, too . . . though he didn't change his mind about her career till she got her first big break at the Strand — and he sat in the audience, watching her, proud as a peacock. You would have thought then that this had been his idea from the start! Shortly after, Maurice and I settled down in New York, and Dinah moved in with us. We stayed together till she went to Hollywood. In a way, all this seems like a long time ago, although it really wasn't. We, too, left New York after my husband went into the service during World War II. When the war was over, thanks to Dinah's "chamber-of-commerce" talks, we decided to follow her to the West Coast. Until we bought our own home, we lived with my sister and George, whom she had married in the meantime. Even though we were separated for a number of years, Dinah and I never really grew apart. Whatever problems were on her mind, whatever decisions she had to make, she always included me in her thinking — with one notable exception: George Montgomery. Dinah had been going out with quite a number of fellows when she met George, and at first I didn't think she was serious about him. But more and more her letters were full of "George did this" and "George said that" — to the point where we knew all about him and little about her anymore. Nevertheless, I was still surprised the night she called us from Las Vegas, to tell us she and George had gotten married! We really learned to appreciate Dinah's choice when George came to San Antonio, to make a training film for the Army, and stayed with us. My husband was stationed there at the time. We also realized why Dinah had fallen in love with him. In many ways, he is much like Daddy — conservative, considerate, quiet, a wonderful person through and through. We knew then her marriage was going to be a happy one. . . . Since Dinah and George have moved into their new home in Beverly Hills, we live just a few miles apart. Actually, we are as close as the telephone — of which we make ample use. Dinah still calls me for advice (lately, this has worked both ways — when I have a problem, I call for her opinion as well), particularly when it comes to raising her daughter, Missy. Since I have two children, a daughter, nineteen, and a son, fifteen, she seems to consider me an authority. At the same time, in some respects her advice carries more weight with my children than my own. . . . Take her influence on Linda, who I felt was getting just a bit too heavy for her age. Not much, just a few pounds. But I thought she ought to watch it. For weeks, I tried to talk her into a diet, with no success. Dinah managed it almost overnight. When trimmed down to her right proportions, Linda can wear Dinah's clothes, most of which she sooner or later inherits from her generous aunt. When Dinah noticed Linda was putting on too much weight — instead of letting her take out the dresses at the seams, she insisted that she lose a few pounds before giving her another garment. It took my daughter just three weeks to get back to her normal weight! Dinah is not only generous, she is also a very nice person, in the fullest sense of the word. That's why I got so annoyed when I first came to Hollywood, and an acquaintance of hers congratulated me on having such a "normal, level-headed" sister. . . . "She's an intelligent girl with good upbringing," I protested. 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