She and Sinatra lunched in early January, apparently at Sinatra's initiation. The Hollywood Reporter then dubbed Sinatra Louella's "best false friend."49 "It's all sunshine and flowers with Frankie and me. That rootin" , tootin' telegram-sending feud that Sinatra and I have been carrying on for the past six months is over," she told her Modern Screen readers. Apparently, as part of the process of atonement, Sinatra had told Louella, "I have been so exhausted. I have been confused. I know I did many things I shouldn't have, things that I am now sorry for." "It was as near to an apology as he gave but it was good enough for me. Exhaustion-confusion. Those two devastating demons of the spirit that follow in the trail of working too hard, of taxing one's strength almost beyond human endurance. Oh I know that story by heart. It cost me five months away from my job and a serious operation last year," Louella wrote.50
But the problems with Sinatra resumed later that year when Sinatra beat up Lee Mortimer, a Hearst writer and New York Mirror film critic, in a Sunset Strip cafe, allegedly over an ethnic slur that the columnist had leveled at Sinatra. The altercation resulted in Sinatra's arrest, and Hearst papers put Sinatra on a "don't use list." Finally, in March 1948, Sinatra went to visit Hearst and Davies in Beverly Hills to call a truce, and it was "a very amiable meeting," according to Variety. Hearst subsequently rescinded the ban, and Sinatra was back in Louella's column.51
Ironically, it was during the time of the 1947 HUAC hearings and the Sinatra feud that Louella, who was becoming more devout in her Catholicism, began to harbor ethical qualms about reporting on marital infidelity and divorce. While in New York, Louella had visited Cardinal Spellman, her spiritual mentor, and shortly thereafter consulted him for advice concerning an accusation by a Los Angeles Catholic newspaper, Tidings, which had attacked her for "printing attractive things about divorced movie people. "52 Upset and finding it difficult to combine her religious beliefs with the job of reporting Hollywood gossip, she was considering giving up the column and requested Cardinal Spellman's opinion. To her surprise, he was sympathetic toward her work and told her that she "had a job to do, and when reporting divorce fell within that job, she had to do it."53
Louella's spirituality intensified with Harry's serious health problems. In December 1946 she accompanied Harry to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, where, according to the Hollywood Reporter, surgeons "found the cause of Doc Martin's trouble to be abdominal." In reality, Harry learned that he was suffering from leukemia.54 Knowing it would devastate her, he kept the news from Louella until only weeks before his death. After going to New York to do a radio broadcast over a "three-way radio hookup," in which she interviewed Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck, who were on a ship midAtlantic, and David Niven in Hollywood, Louella returned to Johns Hopkins. Then she went back to Hollywood for Christmas and traveled back to Baltimore in the spring of 1947, in time for Harry's scheduled April operation. Louella did her radio broadcast from Harry's bedside, via walkie- talkie.55 Following the operation, Louella and Harry returned to Beverly Hills in May 1947.56
Shortly afterward, in the summer of 1947, Time ran a cover story on Hedda Hopper. On the cover of the July issue was a striking but elegantly rendered image of Hopper wearing a hat to which had been affixed a typewriter, a microphone, and a telephone, painted by the artist Boris Chaliapin. In typical Luce fashion, the article praised Hopper and attacked Louella, poking fun at her "pudgy" figure and her "little shark-toothed prose smiles." "Hedda always asks Louella to her parties. Louella never comes," the article inaccurately claimed. The article added that relations between the rivals had been "a little shaky lately" due to Hopper's recent exclusive on the birth of Bette Davis's child. In May 1946, Hopper had scored a major scoop when Davis, who was about to have a baby, refused all interviews and disappeared from Hollywood. Hopper suspected she was hiding out in her Laguna Beach cottage, drove there, found the door open, walked in, and got the exclusive story on the birth. Angry, Louella had responded in her column, "Since Bette Davis has had so many unwelcome visitors, she has had to have her gate padlocked." "But Louella's chagrin runs deeper than that," Time assured its readers. "Hedda keeps chipping away, and is distinctly too ubiquitous for Louella's tastes." "The monopoly on Hollywood gossip has slipped from Louella's control," it concluded.57
The Time article followed on the heels of Hopper's well-publicized trip around the country during the summer of 1947 with her legman Spec McClure to warn Americans of the "communist threat." From Omaha, Hopper reported that she talked to six hundred women of the American Legion Auxiliary who were "deeply interested in actors and actresses who had allowed their names to be used to further communistic causes. Is it true that ... Charlie Chaplin, Melvyn Douglas, John Garfield ... are mixed up with the commies? If it's true, they'll avoid seeing their pictures."58 In her dispatch from Omaha, Hopper threw in a jab at Louella, claiming that "this town is still laughing over the story which got wide circulation that their beloved Bill Jeffers was marrying his stepmother. "59 Over the air on May 25, 1947, Louella had falsely reported that Jeffers, former president of the Union Pacific Railroad and wartime boss of rubber production, had surprised his best friends by marrying his stepmother. Louella had confused him with William Jeffries, a Los Angeles mayoral candidate. It was a "simple confusion of name.... I am deeply apologetic," Louella told the press. But the embarrassing mistake became the subject of a Newsweek article.60
After the Time cover story on Hopper, Louella fell into a depression and reportedly took to her bed for several days .61 Apparently she became so despondent that she refused to answer her phones or write her column, and the studio publicists were upset. Adela Rogers St. Johns then suggested that Louella might be cheered by a dinner party to celebrate her twenty-fifth anniversary with the Hearst Corporation. St. Johns's suggestion was relayed to Hearst, who commissioned a gala event at the Ambassador Hotel's Cocoanut Grove nightclub for March 1948. The initial plan was to collect twenty-five dollars from each of the hundreds of guests. Invitations were sent out to over eight hundred stars, producers, and publicists, in addition to all the publishers and managing editors of the Hearst chain, who were required to attend. Hopper was not invited. Over one thousand requests for invitations, "including scores from very important showbiz people," had to be turned down.62
Not everyone in Hollywood was equally enthused. Ingrid Bergman recalled that when she received her invitation, "I threw mine in the wastepaper basket. Then I got a second one. I threw that away too." But Walter Wanger, her producer, insisted that she go. Bergman responded, "I am not going to pay 25 dollars to have the non-pleasure of sitting with a lot of people in a big hall to celebrate Louella Parsons." Wanger offered to pay, but Bergman refused; it was a matter of principle, she claimed. Fearing the consequences, Wanger sent flowers to Louella on Bergman's behalf, claiming that she was sick and could not attend.63 In the end, when Hearst found out that the invitees had been charged for the ticket, he footed the whole bill. The total cost for the event was over fifty thousand dollars. Too ill to attend, Hearst sent his son David to award Louella a congratulatory plaque.
The star-studded program, which featured comedy, song, and dance and a five-course meal including filet mignon and "Salad Louella Parsons," was produced and directed by Hollywood film director Mervyn LeRoy, emceed by comedian George Jessel, and broadcast over the radio by NBC.64 The front of the Ambassador Hotel and the lobby, according to the Hollywood Reporter, resembled "Grand Central Station on a holiday" with fans and curious onlookers turning out "en masse." Squadrons of police were on hand to keep order.65 Testimonials ranged from the serious-Louis B. Mayer's "We all love you, Louella. No queen can wish for richer jewels than the bright crown of friendship you possess"-to the comical. The Republican governor of California, Earl Warren, one of the honored guests, joked that Louella had made the state so attractive and famous that she was indirectly responsible for California's housing shortage. "I've never gone in much for politics, but sitting at this table is a man I'm going to vote for,
and I'm saying right out loud I want him to be president, and I think all of us who know him in California feel the same way. I might even make a few speeches for him," Louella responded.66
Following the speeches was the performance of a song, "Louella, Louella, Louella," written by the prolific composer Jimmy McHugh: "Louella, Louella, Louella, Everyone loves you; Louella, Louella, Louella, and Dr. Martin too. Press agents live for your column, Everyone's hustling you. Oh how we love you Louella and your goo newspapers too."67 Newsboys then rushed in hawking a mock version of the Examiner with the headline "LOUELLA SURROUNDED BY FILM LEADERS IN TRIBUTE TO MISS PARSONS." The paper featured testimonials from Dorothy Manners; Eric Johnston, head of the Motion Picture Producers' Association; Seymour Berkson, general manger of the International News Service; Jim Richardson, editor of the Examiner; and Wynn Roccamora, Louella's agent. In one article, "Devoted Wife Wins Praise," Eddie Cantor recalled that he had gone for a checkup to Cedars of Lebanon Hospital and encountered Harry, who was a patient. "Doc would keep his eye on the clock. Louella's daily visit meant so much to him." "There is something real about Louella. When she loves you, nothing you do is wrong," wrote Cantor. According to Louis B. Mayer, she was "the best known woman in the country."68
On behalf of his father, David Hearst presented Louella with a gold plaque engraved with the text of letter that Hearst had sent to her shortly before the event. "My Dear Louella ... Every day you have faithfully recorded the progress of a great art and industry. To do this requires courage, accuracy, fairness, and curiosity-the best qualities of a good reporter. You deserve the confidence and affection of our millions of readers and my hearty thanks for a good job well done."69
Louella then approached the podium. Wearing a low-cut white dress designed by the famous Hollywood couturier Adrian, she looked tired and thin, having lost nearly twenty pounds for the event. According to Newsweek, when she reached the podium to give her acceptance speech she was "incoherent and tearlogged." According to Time magazine, she said to the crowd: "Governor Warren, ladies and gentlemen: I suppose everyone in his lifetime has visualized just such a night as tonight, but not many people in this world are lucky enough to have such a beautiful dream come true. I'm trying hard not to get too sentimental, but my heart is so full of gratitude to all my friends, to my newspaper, my co-workers, so many of whom I see sitting out there. My only regret tonight is that Mr. Hearst is not here tonight. I feel I owe so much to him. I feel that anyone who works for the Hearst organization owes a deep debt of gratitude to Mr. Hearst, and I've always felt that one of the greatest things in my life was being able to go to him with my troubles, because you may be sure if you're right, he never fails you."70
She went on to thank Harry ("the most understanding person"), Ray Van Ettisch, "a wonderful managing editor and never too busy for a compliment when I have a scoop," and city editor "Jim Richardson, whom I love." She concluded with reminisces from the past ("I can't help but ... think how happy my mother would have been tonight-she, who thought no good could come out of motion pictures") and tears. "I'll try hard not to be emotional. My years with Mr. Hearst have been the happiest years of my life. This speech wasn't very good. I'm so emotional. I thank you and I love you all and I'm so happy."7'
Though Hearst did not attend, Marion Davies was there, and she was drunk. She entered noisily, shouting greetings to Louella and the guests, then during someone's speech about Louella's long service to Hearst, quipped that she, Davies, had been in the Chief's service a long time and he'd never given her a party. This was within earshot of the Time reporter. Fearing that the magazine would print Davies's comment, the next morning Louella tried to contact Henry Luce by telephone but was told that he had flown to London for the weekend. Then Louella called Luce's wife, the writer and former congresswoman Clare Boothe Luce, and asked her, "woman to woman," to ask Henry Luce not to "print unkindly about Marion or print the awful pictures of Marion that were taken," because "Mr. Hearst was an old man now" and it would be wrong to hurt him. "I'm not asking Mr. Luce to be kind about me," she said.72 Her pleas were ignored, and Time blasted both Louella and Davies. The article described Louella as a "gushy, SS year old woman," and though the article did not quote Davies's remark about Hearst, wrote that she had stormed into the party, throwing Louella a "wave and rowdy greeting" and saying, "My God what a party! Why don't they always give parties like this!"73
Despite Time's attack, the celebration was exactly what Louella needed. Her esteem boosted, she returned to her column. "I'm still on a pink cloud and so excited over my wonderful party ... that I am in a daze," she wrote on March 6, 1948. "I started reminiscing to myself and thought of so many things. But most of all I am so thankful to have been a reporter. Sometimes when I am tired and the phone rings all hours of the day and night, I think it would be much easier to wash dishes-at least you'd get through. Then the joy of a scoop comes along-and all is forgotten."74
A week later, unexpectedly, she was in the news again, this time in conjunction with Harriet, who had become one of Hollywood's top female producers. Despite Harriet's insistence that Louella stay out of her career, during the early 19405 Louella had promoted Harriet aggressively, both with the studio executives and in the column. In 1940, after six years of producing short films for Columbia, Harriet had signed with the Republic studio to produce a series of twelve short films called Meet the Stars.75 In April 1941 she was elevated to "full-fledged producer" at Republic, and not long after her promotion, Louella began giving the studio an extensive publicity buildup in the column.76 "Republic is getting the best talent in the country and spending real money-so much so that I want to again go on record as saying this company has made the greatest progress of any studio in Hollywood 77 within the last year," Louella wrote in June 1941.
Republic had promised Harriet an opportunity to produce a feature film. After Harriet submitted an original script-in her words, a comedy about a group of child stars who had become "over the hill" teenagers-Harriet found that the studio had assigned her story to another producer-director. "I was so furious I quit," she recalled. "It was always the same old story. The studio head wanted to get in good with Louella but didn't trust me because I was a woman." 78 After leaving Republic, in 1942 Harriet signed with RKO, where she worked for the next twelve years. There she came across Sir Arthur Wing Pinero's play The Enchanted Cottage, about a disfigured man and homely woman who find themselves transformed within the walls of a magic cottage. But this, too, was taken away from her and given to the writerproducer Dudley Nichols. She then found Mama's Bank Account, a comedy about a Norwegian immigrant family in San Francisco in the early years of the century, which was also assigned to another producer. The stage rights were sold to Rogers and Hammerstein, who turned it into a play, I Remember Mama, that became a hit.
Hopper came to Harriet's defense. "What goes on at RKO with Harriet Parsons? The studio assigned her as a producer. She digs through its files and finds The Enchanted Cottage and arranges a deal with Sam Goldwyn to borrow Teresa Wright. Then it's snatched away and given to a big writerproducer. Then she digs up Mama's Bank Account and gets Katina Paxinou all set for it. Now that too has been snatched away from her. What goes on? Harriet's clever, and I think this is pretty shabby treatment even for Holly- wood."79 As a result of Hopper's comments, RKO returned The Enchanted Cottage to Harriet.
For her screenwriter, Harriet chose DeWitt Bodeen, described by one film historian as a "brilliant sensitive homosexual," and they became lifelong friends. Harriet had chosen Bodeen because he was homosexual; they wanted to refashion the play, in Bodeen's words, into a "modern romance" that would "rely upon the plausibility of love between a plain and unwanted spinster and a bitter crippled soldier, each of whom sought to hide away from a world that had rejected them." According to historian William J. Mann, this was to be an allegory about the homosexual experience in America-an "excellent example of homosexual expression as enacted through heterosexual guise. "10 Shortly after beginning work o
n The Enchanted Cottage, Harriet resigned from the movie staff of the International News Service to devote herself full-time to her work at RKO. She had been on the Hearst staff for thirteen years.81
Predictably, Louella intervened in the project by asking David Selznick to loan actress Dorothy McGuire, who was under contract to Selznick, and to assist Harriet with the production. Selznick agreed, to appease Louella, but he later feared that Louella had not appreciated his efforts. "I loaned Dorothy McGuire. I talked Miss McGuire into taking the part. I made drastic changes in the treatment and made key suggestions, including the whole idea of the composition which is the framework of the film.... I made editing suggestions on the finished film. In short, I really acted as executive producer of the film.... All of these gestures are wasted if Louella doesn't even know about it," he wrote to one of his publicists. "I want her to know the extent of what I did, some of which Harriet doesn't know about, such as the meetings I had on the makeup question and other things on which the unit came over without her. I wish ... that you would find the occasion diplomatically to tell Harriet about it."82
The First Lady of Hollywood Page 36