Screenland (July–Dec 1947)

It's a Great Day for the Durochers Continued from page 38 tremendous decision to make and one that might have thrown a less staunch and self-reliant girl into a nervous breakdown. But Laraine, after having discussed her problem with her parents, filed suit for divorce. The California divorce was granted, but in California a divorce does not become final for one year. The California Bar Association, recognizing the evils of this system, has tried repeatedly to induce legislators to pass a law allowing the judge who hears each case to hand down a decision as to the waiting period. In some cases the divorce would be absolute at once; in other cases (in which there was chance of reconciliation) a longer period would elapse before the final papers were handed down. However, powerful interests have forestalled this badly needed legal reform. So, in order to solve her personal living plan, Laraine flew to El Paso, drove to Juarez, secured an absolute and immediate divorce according to established Mexican law, then married Leo Durocher. Laraine was not the first American citizen, by several hundred thousand, nor will she be the last to clarify her marital status in this way. Laraine wanted to go to Havana with Leo when he went south to train with the Dodgers. She wanted to return to New York with him when baseball season opened. She wanted to be his wife, able to walk with shoulders back, head high, and wedding ring proudly worn. A girl less governed by honor and high purpose might have accepted her California decree, then traveled about the country with her "fiance"; sympathetic columnists would have overlooked the dubious situation as they have kindly ignored many another irregular domestic situation. But Laraine Day is totally unable to live in shadows. Some reports have described Laraine as weeping, wringing her hands, drinking tea from a cup held in trembling fingers. This reporter talked to Laraine on two occasions during her legal difficulties and found Laraine self-possessed, at ease, sure of the Tightness of what she had done, and full of a twinkling happiness in her second marriage. By that time, of course the letters had begun to pour in from Laraine Day fans. Oat of hundreds received, we are printing two because they represent a crosssection of public opinion. Dear Miss Day: You have always been my favorite actress. I wept salty tears when you were 'killed' in the Dr. Kildare series, but I agreed with your conviction that it was time for you to progress to more demanding and more varied roles. Your courageous decision at that time was eloquent of your character: you are a person who appears to be vitally interested in progress. You risked your career in progressing to new roles. Again, you risked your career when you recently secured a divorce, and re-married. I belong to a faith which does not permit divorced persons to re-marry except under specific, and often unfulfillable, circumstance, I have seen great wretchedness result from all-too-human attempts to satisfy both convention and the dearest dreams of a woman's heart. Your courageous and progressive action is to be applauded. Your example will hearten perplexed women everywhere to make new starts and better lives for themselves. Admiringly yours, (Mrs.) R. T. R. Detroit, Michigan." Letter No. 2 is delightful: "Dear Mrs. Durocher: Gosh, our Lippy is sure in luck! You've always been my favorite actress, and there's no need to go into the way we feel about Leo. To have you both in the same family is really something! I've been reading all the magazines, hoping I'd find something about what you and Leo did this summer, where you are living, whether he has taught the kids any baseball — just the news, the real lowdown. Hope I read some good reports about you soon. You can count on it: whenever you come to Brooklyn, you're in for such a welcome as you've never had. From now on you're ours, right along with Leo. Your enthusiastic fan, Jerry T. McN. Brooklyn, New York." This enthusiasm for Leo and Laraine as a team had begun to manifest itself when the Durochers were in New York in June. Every time they left the hotel they were mobbed; when they tried to go to the theater, they were gaped at; on the street and in the park there was no peace nor anonymity for them. In the old days, Laraine used to be Louis Hayward, swashbuckler of Columbia's film version of Robert Louis Stevenson's "The Black Arrow," and co-star Janet Blair get together for shop-talk between scenes. able to traverse the length and breadth of New York unnoticed in her plain black suit, simple black hat, and clear (not dark) glasses. But Leo changed that. Laughing ruefully, Laraine told her husband, "They're going to have to amend the old Arab proverb, because there are now four things which cannot be hidden: 'Love, smoke, a man riding on a camel, and Leo Durocher.' Wherever you go, you're recognized." This whole routine of being as conspicuous as a military band might have grown irksome if a humorous incident hadn't been added. One afternoon Leo and Laraine were hurrying down Fifth Avenue, a small crowd of the curious in hot pursuit, when Leo caught sight of Edgar J. Hoover, approaching from the opposite direction. From the corner of his mouth, Leo identified the gentleman, whereupon the Durochers sidled against a store window with as much tact as possible, and stared at America's favorite G-man. Not until the object of their scrutiny had disappeared into a shop, did the two rubbernecks turn to one another and burst into self-gibing laughter. "Oh, well, everybody gawps at everyone in New York," conceded Leo. Despite a constant trail of observers, the Durochers were able to make regular visits to a licorice shop on Madison Avenue where they purchased a supply of licorice drops, licorice whips, licorice twists, and half a dozen other varieties of the inky confection to be shipped to Hollywood. They also managed periodic calls on Hamburger Heaven, and to any drug store manufacturing extra-thick, extra-dark chocolate ice cream sodas. And they selected fabrics and drapes to be used in redecorating their Beverly Hills home, a task in which they are currently absorbed. One of the purchases was a deep-piled chartreuse rug for the living room. "From now on," Laraine teased when the rug was installed "our square dance parties are going to have to take place on the patio. I'm not going to have this rug ruined." This "saving the rug" announcement referred to the habit of the Durochers and their friends of rolling up the living room rug, piling a stack of square-dance records on the phonograph, and spending an evening in an old-fashioned hoedown. Those who have been lucky enough to be invited to these affairs have praised them to the point where half of Hollywood now angles for bids. It was in New York, also, that Laraine purchased a puppy, name of "Tycoon," in honor of her latest RKO picture, as a surprise for Leo. Tycoon is a Scottie with a mania for having his picture taken. From now on, no camera study of the Durochers will be complete without the black-button gaze and out-offocus wag of a stubby Scottie tail. The Day-Durocher menage is a gay one. In addition to Laraine, Leo, and the three children, Laraine's parents are domiciled in the guest suite, and a frequent over-night guest is Laraine's twin brother, Lamarr. Lamarr, like many men, prides himself upon his ability as a chef. His broiled steaks and chops are out of this world, 66 ScREENLAND