Screenland Plus TV-Land (Jul 1959 - May 1960)

forced to traffic in fertilizer as a bit player. You have to write. This is where your future is going to be. That's what you were put here for." Carolyn did not express an idle conviction for she put her deeds where her mouth was. "Carolyn took bit parts herself so I could stay home and write," Aaron shakes his head, still incredulous at the way she | backed faith with sacrifice. '"At restaurants | she picked up every check during the time we were engaged to the time we were married, and most of the time after that. Never in the most fierce argument we've ever had has she said, 'I paid for this' or 'I did this.' She may not be perfect. There may be some things wrong with her, but not as far as 'I'm concerned." That is not a surprising bias. Carolyn was doing fairly well in television, although by no means had she attained stardom, when she had an opportunity to be represented by the powerful William Morris Agency. "I wouldn't think of signing with you unless you also bandied my husband," she slapped them with an ultimatum. "He just happens to be one of the finest young writers in Hollywood." Aaron still is overwhelmed by the enormity of the gesture. "I don't know if you realize what a gamble she took," he says. "MCA had turned her down, and she tells William Morris they must take her husband! They believed her because Carolyn herself believed so much in me. The next day Stan Kamin, of the William Morris Agency, called me and said, 'Have you ever written a Western? I think we could sell it for you.' " Aaron, of course, didn't want to let Carolyn down. "I went home that night and wrote a Western," he says simply. "I'd never written a Western in my life. All the movies I'd ever seen about the West looked awfully dry to me, so I wrote a Western called 'A Crying Need For Water'. It was the first thing I ever sold! A week later I was introduced to a guy named Dick Powell. I found myself writing Westerns for Zane Grey Theater, and there it was." There is no doubt in Spelling's mind about the full size of Carolyn's contribution to his present dazzling eminence as a Hollywood screen writer. "I don't think I'd ever have written anything without Carolyn," he agrees without the slightest prodding. Aaron still was teaching for Ben Bard at $150 a month when Carolyn began getting parts at Revue Productions, and earned $250 about once every two months. "What would it take to make you feel secure?" Carolyn asked one night. "If we only had $500 in the bank." he sighed deeply. They managed to save $360. Meanwhile, Spelling had a terrifying premonition that he never would see his parents again. He wanted desperately to fly to Dallas to visit them, but he didn't have the money. He tried, unavailingly, to put the disturbing fear out of his mind. Then one day Carolyn asked Aaron would he mind driving her to the airport. "I've got a friend coming in from Milwaukee," she explained. "When I got there," Spelling has to struggle to keep the mist out of his eyes when he tells it, "there was no friend from Milwaukee. My folks came off the plane! Carolyn had sent them two tickets she bought with the $360 we had saved!" Aaron says he had no idea what compassion meant until Jones came along. He recounts another story about the time, recently, when she got a letter from a woman in Winnetka, Illinois, asking her to send an autographed picture to her ailing 19-year-old daughter, who was unaware that she was dying of cancer. The girl felt they had so much in common because her name, too, was Carolyn Jones. "Carolyn just broke up." Aaron relates. "She went to great pains to get the girl's phone number, and talked to her for 45 minutes. In the course of conversation, the girl said she hoped some day to hear Carolyn sing. The next day Carolyn rented a studio. Don Durant, the star of 'Johnny Ringo', accompanied her on the guitar. Anyway, the experience did not discourage me from sitting with Sergei again. This time he substituted a Roman Warrior's shield for Zorro's sword. Unfortunately, there weren't any in the house. He promptly rectified that. It was about 6:00 at night when the first telephone call came through. One of the neighbors complained that the lid of her garbage can was missing. "So what can I do about it?" I asked. There was a moment's silence before she said, "My husband saw Sergei take it." "Sergei!" I cried out. "What would he do with a lid?" "I don't know," she said. "But you'd better check." No sooner had I hung up when another neighbor called. Her report was identical, and so were two more reports before I left the receiver off the hook to check with -my nephew. I finally located him in the basement. Sure enough, there he was playing the "Great Warrior" with not just one lid of a garbage can, but 20! I was so mad I gave him a spanking. So what did he do? Instead of crying, he looked at me with his great big eyes and whispered, "Are you happy now. Aunt Sandra?" I don't know where he learned it, but it was too much for me. I burst out laughing, and he joined in. Yet, when his mother asked me to baby sit a third time, I readily agreed. In fact, I've been babysitting for a lot of friends in Los Angeles. She dubbed a record singing "Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair' and sent it to the girl." Aaron Spelling is witty and urbane. But when he speaks about his wife, he is overcome with emotion. "Maybe this is too intimate for you to use," he says softly, "but we go to bed " at night, turn out the lights as people do, and we talk. Like last night, Carolyn said, 'How can people who love each oilier leave each other? They have bo many memories. Everything they see they're going to be reminded. Suppose the girl is with another man. and they pass a dog on the street, and he says, 'Look at that little poochie. Wouldn't you be reminded?9 You see, one of Carolyn's nicknames for me is Poochie." He never ceases to marvel over his wile. "The depth of this girl is unbelievable," he attests. "Most people think she's flip. She cries at jai lai games! Carolyn inspires him to endless wonders. "You pick the right subject when you ask me to talk about her," Aaron Spelling smiles. "I could go on forever. The troublc . is — how are you going to stop me?" Once upon a time in Hollywood there was a saddened, embittered young man. Then along came Jones. END As a good daughter-in-law, I would do all I could for my husband's family, just as I would expect him to do his best for my mother. I would make a point of asking his mother for advice on what he likes to eat: she might also be able to brief me on some of his other likes and dislikes, which would make it easier for our marriage. If I were married, I'm afraid I would be ghastly with a budget. My husband would simply have to take it over himself, or do what I am doing right now — get a business manager to handle the money for us. It would really be one of the major problems in our marriage. Several times I have tried to live on a certain amount. It never worked. Once, when my business manager insisted he would quit if I didn't listen to him, I let him go. It was not very smart and now we have a manager again. To be honest, I think I inherited this tendency from my mother. While my mother was out one day. I spilled some fruit juice on the bedroom carpet. It made me feel so bad that I wanted to make up for it somehow. So I went to a Beverly Hills store to buy her a little something. The little something turned out to be a string of pearls. Or take the time we first came to Hollywood, when I wanted a car so badly. I was too young to drive. Mom didn't have a license, either. continued on page 66 65 "If I Were Married continued from page 51