Re: More words

[Gwendolyn Ann Smith <gwen@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

John Mahoney <jmahoney@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>, you said...

>In response to her "plea" for info, I sent Gwen a bit of interesting '64
>lore yesterday.  Some of you might enjoy reading about what a famous --- and
>famously-alcoholic --- star of stage and screen had to do with a '64
>Rambler.  Some of you might even remember when AMC was, as those cotton
>folks said, truly a "part of the fabric of life."  She can
>cut-paste-and-post that info if she wants to.

Why yes indeed, I do want to.  I think it's a fascinationg tale, slightly 
off-topic but with a wonderful grain or two of AMC history embedded 
within.

Cheers,
Gwen Smith

"Its tale is best told in the driver's (Mr. George Murphy's) own [1999] 
words:


July 1964, and I was 16 years old. I had always loved the theater and 
having
begged a Mr. Carlton Guild several times for the chance, I was granted
permission to work as an apprentice for the summer at the Mt. Tom 
Playhouse
in Holyoke, Mass. My father was rather upset that I had had to pay $30.00
(union fees) to work there, but after much ballyhoo, I convinced him that 
I
would be in a learning place and not out somewhere on the town. 

Some shows had come and gone already that season, and as we headed into 
the
month of July, great anticipation was prevalent as the Queen herself was 
on
the way. My Gawd, ...Tallulah Bankhead!!..., coming to Holyoke. That week
arrived and naturally all shows were sold out; the sets were up and ready.
The producer, a Mr. Hugh Fordin, was nervous, having heard that Ms. 
Bankhead
was somewhat difficult. Everything must be as perfect as possible. 

She arrived at Holyoke on a Sunday, and went directly to her lodgings, a
mere cabin hidden in the woods of Mt. Tom. It was en route to this cabin
that my one on one with Bankhead transpired. 

Mid-afternoon on Monday, July 13th, a limousine pulled up next to the
theater. The driver got out and stood to the right rear of the car. I was
watching from the outside rear of the theater...as he just stood there in
the July heat. We watched and waited for about 15 minutes; another car
pulled up, some people got out, went to the limo with the driver, and they
all just stood there together. Finally, the driver opened the door... . 
And
there she was!, dressed in a long flimsy/frilly sort of gown/lingerie
looking thing, flowered if I remember correctly. 

My first impression was that she hadn't slept in two days or had been 
taking
the Holy Water for most of that day. She had a sharp temper, and at times
swore like a sailor, but she was Tallulah and she could and would do as 
she
wished, when and how she wished it. Hugh Fordin warned us that whatever 
she
needed, whenever she needed it... we were to "JUST GET IT!" 

The show that week was "Glad Tidings," a comedy written by Edward Mabley,
and although I watched it eight times, I cannot, for the life of me 
remember
anything about it. 

The only other actor I remember in the production was Evelyn Russell, who
was a real gem to most of us, and pushed us in the right direction when it
came to performing services for La Bankhead. 

The show went very well that week, and she was loved by all who came to 
see
her. Ticket prices had been raised from an average $3.50 to $4.50, but the
audience had gladly paid even that exorbitant fee! 

There was the definite impression, and rightly so, that she was usually
pretty much half in the bag all of the time, but this condition did not 
as I
recall, affect her stage performance at all. 

There were many demands that week, and we adhered to them as much as
possible. The theater was very hot and not air conditioned, a major bone 
of
contention at all times! And, the one thing, above all else... she 
demanded
to have her newspapers, as many different ones as possible, delivered to 
her
cabin every morning. 

As the week went on, we all towed the line. She had remarked several times
that I had beautiful hair, somewhat of an embarrassment for me, as she 
would
always muss up my then full head of red hair. 

On Sunday, July 19,1964: I arrived at the theater early that day; as this
was strike day, after the final performance of the current show, the old 
set
came down and the new one would be erected overnight. Van Johnson was
scheduled to act in the play,"A Thousand Clowns." I was with the others
outside the theater, busily painting flats, when a frantic Hugh Fordin 
came
tearing down the hill, looking like a grizzly bear was after him. "Did
anybody remember to get her papers?" Apparently, the answer was no, so
Fordin handed me a $10.00 bill and yelled,"GO GO GO, hurry up and get 'em
(before she wakes up and creates another row)!!" 

The theater car was a brand new Rambler convertible, white with a red
interior, on loan from Konner Rambler in Holyoke. It had about 600 miles 
on
it. Now I was Batman, jumping into the Batmobile, taking off to save the
reputation of the Mt. Tom Playhouse and all of the people involved with 
it.
With unequaled speed, I raced down the access road from the playhouse to
Route 5 and into the city, to the little candy and soda shop on Hampden
Street in Holyoke; leapt out of the car, raced to the door to find the 
shop
"Closed. On Vacation,"... damn!! Back in the car, racing up to the 
drugstore
at the other end of town, I stopped to take a sample of every newspaper,
that city paper, this local paper, that other one, The Racing Sheet; I
didn't even know what she wanted, so I took them all. The guy at the 
counter
just stared at me as I ran out of the store with an armful of newspapers,
jumped into the Batmobile, emblazoned with the words "CAR OF THE STARS" on
either side, and sped off into the sun. 

The bottom of the dirt access road that lead to her cabin had a sign 
planted
there that read "SPEED LIMIT 5 mph." I had never seen a 5 mph sign before 
as
a speed limit, but quickly found out the reason for this, as I tore up the
road at 40mph, straight up on one side, straight down on the other, 
Gallahad
on his quest! I don't remember seeing the hill and the big dip right after
it. But, I do remember being airborne and the nose of the new convertible
smashing into the ground on the other side of the dip [and the brakes that
didn't work while the car was airborne]. The explosion I heard was the 
front
right tire. I got out, muttered a few words like "Golly Gee!" or words to
that effect, grabbed the newspapers, and like a marathon runner, raced
another half-a-mile uphill in the July sun. 

I remember distinctly knocking on that screen door, and peering inside for
movement. A lone figure came to the door, and I thought, "Oh man, please
don't let her yell at me." The woman who came to the door was a black
heavyset lady, and I informed her I had Ms. Bankhead's newspapers, as I
stood there, shaken, soaked, and out of breath. Then the unmistakable 
voice
echoed from somewhere deep in the cabin,"Who's there, Molly?" Molly may 
not
have been the name called out, but I will use it here. Molly asked what
happened to me, I told her, and she said please come in. I entered with 
the
sweat-soaked papers, and Molly again asked, "Can I get you something?" 
And,
before I could answer, I heard THE VOICE say, "How about a drink, 
Dahling?"
[In the back of my mind I thought, wow, she really does say that.] 

At 16, I opted for ice water and was told to sit down, a few feet away 
from
Tallulah Bankhead!! She was wearing a light blue colored nightgown and her
hair was pulled back; she had a drink in one hand and may have had a
cigarette (or 10) in the other. 

She looked at me while playing with her hair and said, "So, what do you 
do?"
"I work at the theater," I answered. She said,"A MOOOVV-ieee theater?" I
said: "No ma'am, the theater where you are performing." She put on her
glasses and said, "Oh, I know you, you have beautiful red hair... ," then
followed with," I HATE THAT GODDAMNED THEATER!" I excused myself, 
announcing
that I had to go back down the mountain and change the tire. She then
abruptly asked me why I had come up there in the first place. I quickly 
said
"To deliver your papers, m'am." She waved her hand, " Oh, that." I then 
did
something I have never done again in my whole life, I impulsively reached 
to
kiss her hand and thank her for the water, overhearing again the magical
voice, dismissing me this time: "Anytime, Dahling! Anytime." 

Molly asked if I wanted to call anybody for help, I said no and started
trotting down the mountain to the car. I fixed the flat, and then 
proceeded
back up the mountain, as you can only go one way, and that is the one and
only way to turn around, up at the cabin. When I got there, Tallulah was
outside, sitting at a table under a yard umbrella; she looked up at me. I
waved, and she yelled out,"Back already, are we?" I explained to her that 
I
was just turning around, and she waved at me like I was one of the
neighbors. I went back to the theater and told them of my accident; the
damage to the car was passed off as minor, as long as she had gotten her
newspapers. 

The matinee and the evening performances that day went well ... . And ,
then, it was a wrap! I made sure to stand at the actors exit when she was 
to
leave. She approached me, smiled, and without a word, walked by as I 
mumbled
good-bye. (At least, I think she may have smiled; I really don't remember,
though I do recall the delicious scent of her obviously expensive perfume,
like an exquisite blue cloud that wafted around and trailed after her). I
watched the slight stagger in her walk as she approached the limo... 
crushed
out a cigarette and got into the car; then, she was gone. I picked up the
cigarette butt and put it away in a small paper bag with a note on the bag
so as not to forget. Stupid, I guess, and now long lost somewhere forever,
but I will never forget the Lady nor the time a 16-year-old kid had the
distinct honor of sitting down (albeit, momentarily) with an immortal and
hearing her call me: "DAHHHHHHLING!!!!" 

-----

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(O|O) =RAMBLER= (O|O) Gwen Smith * gwen@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
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