Screenland (Nov 1939–Apr 1940)

HAT DY LILY DACH because you are feminine and smart you demand that your hat and your writing paper "do things" for your personality, you choose them to express your fashion sense and good taste. When you shop for a hat your mirror talks back to you . . . tells you whether to buy or not. And when you shop for writing paper it is never necessary to puzzle over a selection for the name EATON stands as a symbol of good taste and quality. Choose from among the dozens of Eaton's alluring and fashionable letter papers the one that reflects your individual taste . . . you may be sure that EATON'S FINE LETTER PAPERS ARE ALWAYS CORRECT ores, &veryic\iere from 50* MAKERS OF HIGHLAND LINEN, PITTSFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS Kaufmann, came back clearly to George. "How are you doing?" was all he asked. "I haven't a quarter to my name." Linking his arm through Artie's, George said, "Let's take a walk." "What do you think he did?" Frank Williams, a childhood friend of both, asked me. "He walked Artie to a clothing store and bought him an overcoat for $65. Then as he grasped Artie's hand to say goodbye, he slipped $25 into his palm. He's always doing that ; when he gives the boys money there's never any show about it. No one realizes what he is doing for he waits for an inconspicuous moment to slip you a bill. He's gone before you can thank him. It burns me up when people say he's always been selfish and thinks of no one but himself. Say, as a kid he was the most unselfish boy in the gang. He even risked his life to help me." On a hot summer day most of the kids in the neighborhood went swimming off the dock. George and a few of his pals stood watching them. "I must have gone out too far," Frank explained. "The current began pulling me downstream and fighting against it proved useless. When I screamed my other friends, numb with fright, did nothing. But George dove in and by superhuman effort dragged me ashore. Immediately after he disappeared and when I went to thank him for saving my life, he just looked annoyed and spoke gruffly to me." "Then there was the time," Harry Faber, another childhood friend, told me, "when he took terrific chances to supply us with Christmas trees. When you live in Hell's Kitchen you're not overburdened with money, and when Christmas rolled around, our folks never had cash for trees. We kids would stand with our noses pressed against shop windows where tall evergreens were on display, wistfully wishing we could afford one." George noticed that when the truck drivers filled up their trucks at the market they were in such a hurry that they sometimes took imperfect trees. Afterwards, when they discovered this, they dumped them off. Since he could run very quickly, George elected himself to follow the trucks and pick up the leftovers. This was very hazardous, as he was continually in danger of being run over. "Nor was he satisfied when he got a tree for his own family," Harry Faber said. "Many an afternoon he spent dodging traffic, enduring the curses of drivers and chasing the trucks till he secured trees for all his friends." Superficially, George has changed tremendously. Inside he remains the same true pal, the generous boy he was when he started on the crazy road to success. According to Charles Brown, under whom George worked at Rector's Restaurant in the days when he got $2 an afternoon for dancing, Raft always put himself out to help others. When the mother of one of the bus boys died, it was George who took up a collection so the lad could defray the funeral expenses ; though he needed the money badly, Raft gave more than any other employee. On the surface, George Raft may seem a tough guy to deal with ; at heart he is a softie. Many people refuse to believe this and consequently his conduct has sometimes received unfavorable interpretation. When a murderess was electrocuted, leaving her twelve-year-old son burdened with horrible memories, softie George Raft heard of the boy's plight, immediately offered to bring the lad to Hollywood, buy him a new outfit and have him as his guest over Christmas. This offer wasn't meant to reach the press ; yet, as things sometimes happen, the story leaked out. Instead of praising George, some know-it-alls sneered, "Just another publicity stunt for Raft." And George, who had admitted to dear friends the picture of that sensitive, bewildered lad haunted him so he couldn't sleep, was stunned. He did not press the matter. What Hollywood fails to realize is that George is crazy about children. When he comes to New York he gathers all the urchins of his old neighborhood, takes them shopping for clothes, sends each home with bags of groceries, and a few dollars. He missed all these things in his childhood, and he wants to make it easier for them. He's flown in specially from Hollywood to appear at an orphans' benefit, and when Jack Marron, who runs a club for the poor children at George's old church, St. Michael's, wrote asking if he could appear at a benefit, George wired from Hollywood, "Say no more. I'm on my way." Perhaps you were startled when you read in the paper that George Raft, Jr., had married and brought his bride to Hollywood to meet his father, the film star. You may be among the many who never knew George had a son. When first he came to Hollywood, George denied he was married or a father. Subsequently when his son, then twelve, visited him he said the boy was his nephew, till a reporter divulged their true relationship. "I would have loved to acknowledge my son, and my marriage," he said at the time, "but studio officials forbade it. They warned me I was being built up as a romantic figure and insisted that if I admitted I was married or had a child, it would ruin my career." Other stars have done the same thing. With them we have accepted it as good business ; we have not censured them for neglecting to mention offspring. Another reason people have derided George is because they feel he is very vain. A great deal of publicity was given a few years ago to his fight with a Hollywood man about town, who, upon seeing Killer Grey and George in a restaurant, said loudly, "There go two boys who just had to become beautiful." Of course, the reference was to the fact that Grey had just had his nose remodeled, and George, his ear decauliflowered. Yet even here there is a great deal to be said for George. Did you know that Raft first failed to make the grade in pictures because of his cauliflower ear, a remnant of his fighting days? And that laboriously he saved up money to have the operation performed, so he might earn a decent livelihood in films? Many of the stars have resorted to operations to make themselves more beautiful. Do we think any the less of them? When he was a boy, young Raft used to dream that some day he would take his mother, the only one who understood him, away from the squalor of the slums. That part of his childhood dream did come true. As soon as he made money he installed her in a beautiful apartment, with a housekeeper, a relative (he always gives relatives a break), and a chauffeur (another relative) at her command, and the old lady never expressed a wish that her son did not immediately fulfill. Till her death, two years ago, he wired her weekly red roses, and white lilies, her favorites. Repeatedly he flew East to see her. Just before her fatal illness he had built a beautiful home for her in Hollywood, so she could be near him for the remainder of her life. George Raft is a paradox, a very complex personality. Most of us hate to solve paradoxes ; we prefer simple people whom we can understand without trouble, whose every action we can foretell. Usually when stars try to improve themselves, as witness John Garfield and Joan Crawford, they receive everyone's sympathy and respect. Why not give Raft the same break? SCREENLAND 91