Screenland Plus TV-Land (Nov 1952 - Oct 1953)

turned and kissed me. Then there was a love scene on the raft. It was wonderful, but that part of the picture was censored and left on the cutting room floor. Those long weeks in the lagoon of the south seas — we would work and then there'd be hours spent in rapt absorption in conversation. I loved to see the delicate outlines of her beautiful face when she talked softly. It seemed I could listen to her voice, against the splash of the sea's waves — forever. One night after work, I went to get her coat and when I returned, one of the picture executives was talking. "Linda, you'd better discourage Tab from hanging around you so much. He's a sensitive, emotional lad — loaded with talent and dreams — and while he's reacting great in the picture, he's only nineteen and I don't want to see him hurt." I busted in before Linda could reply and pretended I hadn't heard. The next day was my birthday. Linda gave me a surprise party. Even to candles on a cake. Everyone on the set had cake, and I kept wishing they'd go so Linda and I could talk. I just had to tell her that I loved her. She seemed to know because she lifted a hand and stopped me. "Tab," she said, "You know how much I enjoy our talks, but let's be sure everyone knows that this is just a simple friendship. One of the greatest to be sure, but let's not let there be any misunderstanding— or let any gossip start." I guess she saw the pain and misery welling up in me for she made a cute little grimace that made me want to kiss her cute little nose — and with a light, laughing tone — that brought me wham back down to earth — she said, "Race you to the hotel!" And she was off — running as fleet as a deer. I expected Linda would avoid me after that, but nothing of the sort. She was just as warm and friendly as ever, but I noticed there were usually more people around. And it seemed I could never get her alone for one of those good old long talks. The night of the big hurricane, that caused some forty-eight million dollars damage, I'll never forget. The winds began to whine and whip — and I spoke to the director about Linda, who occupied one of the cottages by the waterfront. "Don't you think she'd better be up here with us?" But he shook his head — and said with finality, "Don't worry about her. She prefers to be where she is." By eleven-thirty that night, the wind was ferocious — like a tiger lashing its tail. The very walls shivered and shook and I kept looking down at Linda's cottage ready to dash to her rescue at the slightest provocation. I sat there watching her windows all night, as the big waves splashed against her cottage. The next morning, I asked Linda how she had survived it and she said laughingly, "With a prayer and a stout heart, of course!" All that long night, I had been thinking— . Linda naturally would be attracted to an older man, one with experience who would know how to make her happy and really give her the security and life she deserves. I was still in the trying 64 stage. How could I expect or even dream to hope that she would want to share all of the hurdles ahead of me while I established myself. She should have life handed to her on a silver platter. That is the way it should be for a woman like Linda. For the first time, I began to realize, now that we were to leave Jamaica for London, that actually I was an immature, punk kid. And I began thinking about the girls my own age and, as I began to compare — I decided perhaps I didn't want women in my life. Linda was always poised and beautifully groomed to perfection. Every detail of her ensemble blended in perfect taste. Besides her great beauty, she had unbelievable charm. She wasn't like the kids who boast about the other men who beg to date them, who break dates, are selfconscious, never have a word to say or forget to thank a guy for spending his whole week's allowance to show them a nice evening or who expect gifts, talk only about themselves and are more apt to be inattentive to a guy's conversation than to be really interested in him and his welfare. Giggly, immature girls, I decided, left me cold. So they do have apple blossom complexions, cuter figures — and a bouncy walk. But what's a mere pretty face, a pair of pretty eyes and legs — when there's no soul? Of course, now I find out my perspective on girls my own age was wrong. When we went to London to finish the picture, Linda let me take her out for dinner a couple of times. Man, does she look like a queen in a tailored suit and furs. She was gracious and I quickly began to lose my complexes about being with the woman I could never have. Once more I began to feel plain comfortable and excited and proud being with her. One night at a small restaurant, we began to talk again. I told her she dressed so beautifully that I was proud to be seen with her. Linda laughed, "I didn't always know how to dress — or which clothes to choose. You should have seen me when I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Any girl who's interested in clothes — learns how to choose them. It just takes growing up." About the last of the picture, there was a scene where a boy had to jump into the as a mother-daughter team of contestants on the theme of "Hello, Mom," in honor of Mother's Day. The last question was the name of the family in "Little Women." Both mother and daughter burst out with "The March Family" and Broke the Bank. The daughter turned to her mother and said, "I have a husband to support me, you may have my share as a Mother's Day present." After the operation, Mr. Busch was told by the doctor that he would get his eyesight back and at the same time he learned his wife won $8,120. Mr. Busch, overcome, just shook his head and muttered, "My water. The water was about 42 degrees. He came out shivering and stood there wet and cold. This was the only time I ever saw Linda blow her stack. "Get that boy some blankets — get him warm," she ordered and rushed into her dressing room and brought out her own. No wonder everyone loves Linda. She had an attack of yellow jaundice and was in the hospital. I wanted to do something for her, be near her. But the word was "no visitors" — not even me. More than ever, I now realized she needed a man with more maturity and consideration. So I stopped by with flowers and a little note. Well, the picture ended and I came back home to Hollywood. Linda and I didn't meet for three months. At a big party, she came over and said, "How are you, Honey?" — and we kissed. She was just the same and I realized this was no puppy love — but a real sincere friendship that I must never spoil. Now I have begun seeing girls my own age, and I've found out that they aren't so giggly after all. They are like me, enthusiastic and learning how to achieve the graces and poise which comes with experience and success. Recently, I met Gloria Gordon, who seems older than her age, but who is only fifteen. Already she had acquired poise and fascination and she is tall and brunette and beautiful. We have fun on dates and we, too, have a lot in common. Gloria is under contract to 20th CenturyFox. Since she can't date on working nights, I occasionally go out with other girls like Lori Nelson, Judy Powell, Betty Barker — and I've had two dates with Denise Darcel. I often look at the scrapbook — my remembrance from Linda which she pasted together herself and gave to me. It has all of our scenes in the picture — as well as the behind scenes and informal ones. On one page is her portrait — inscribed. I am not telling the inscription for it is very personal. On another page is the picture of our first kiss. It wasn't easy to change my feelings back to a casual friendship with Linda, whom I'll always remember, not as the older woman in my life — but as a wonderful girl! END God, I can't believe it's true." All-time high honors went to a wounded veteran of Korea who said, "I Was A Communist For The F.B.I." when asked to name the movie in which Mat Cvetic risked death to track down America's enemies. The soldier won $11,840, radio and TV's all-time high cash award. A Connecticut woman calmly named Vicki Baum as the author of "Grand Hotel" and won $9,260. What about you others who appeared on the show, but lost out on the money? Like the Colorado woman who failed to name Henry Clay as the famous Ameri SORRY, YOUR TIME'S UP! [CONTINUED FROM PACE 43]