The Enchanted Cottage, released in 1945, received not only positive critical reviews but also a tremendous buildup in Louella's column. "Do you mind if I do a little bragging about my child this morning?" Louella wrote. "She was on the Kate Smith [radio] hour Sunday and sounded swell. She has been on 3 or 4 other programs in connection with The Enchanted Cottage. One of my friends telephoned from New York to say that the Astor has been playing to capacity with huge crowds waiting ever since the picture opened Friday. It's breaking records right and left."83 In a Sunday feature story on Dorothy McGuire, Louella quoted McGuire as having asked Louella about Mama's Bank Account: "Isn't that the play your daughter Harriet was to have produced when RKO sold it for a stage play?" "Yes," Louella responded. "She was within a month of making it into a picture when it was sold, and while Harriet was unhappy at the time, she is pleased now that The Enchanted Cottage was her first picture." "It was fun working with Harriet. She is so intelligent and so understanding," McGuire had allegedly said. 84
Buoyed by the success of the film, Harriet then tried to win back the right to produce I Remember Mama. In her column on April 7, 1945, Louella announced, "Here's a surprise, dear daughter. You are going to New York, and you are being sent by Charles Koerner to look at I Remember Mama because you are going to produce it. He hasn't told you yet. I talked to your boss, and even though you said I must never discuss you or your affairs with the head of RKO, I am still a newspaper woman and I know news!"85 I Remember Mama, starring Irene Dunne, went into production in 1946 and was released in the spring of 1948.
Both Louella and Hopper attended the film's premiere in March. Predictably, Louella awarded I Remember Mama her "Cosmopolitan Citation" for best film of the month, calling it "one of the finest films I've ever seen ... because it is so simple, so human, so warm hearted and gentle."86 When Louella spotted Hopper at the premiere, she feared that Hopper would pan the film, but to her surprise, Hopper's review was glowing. "I remember Mama and you will too, when you have seen this film, with all the elements of good theater and good cinema, humor, humanity, and hominess it will be hard to forget.... To Harriet Parsons, who found the story and produced the picture, must go a lot of the credit," Hopper wrote in her column.87 When Harriet, who was in New York, read Hopper's notice in the New York Daily News, she called Louella to ask whether she'd seen it. Louella had, and she was shocked. Harriet then asked Louella to call Hopper and arrange a "peace parley."88 Harriet also sent a telegram to Hopper that read, "Hedda dear, your wonderful article on Mama and your remarks about me made me very happy. You have always been kind and helpful to me in your column and I want you to know that I am grateful."89
Hopper also received dozens of telegrams from Hollywood directors, actors, and agents who were amazed by her generosity toward her rival's daughter. "At the risk of having you regard me as a simpering sentimentalist, I must tell you how wonderful I thought it was to read the friendliest and warmest tribute to Louella's daughter Harriet. Honestly Hedda, it stirred great tears of joy as I read how fairly and how genuinely you revere Harriet. I hardly know the young lady in question[,] but this I do know-that it could be a very easy matter to dismiss the subject of the opposition's daughter," wrote Ginger Rogers.90 Louella's agent, Wynn Roccamora, also wired thanks: "Dear Hedda, let me add my small voice to the many who undoubtedly will shower you with congratulations on your fine tribute to Harriet Parsons in this morning's column. I think there are too few occasions where people in the industry are truly good sports and I certainly think you have been."91
Spurred by Harriet's request, Louella contacted Hopper and the two agreed to meet for lunch at Romanoff's restaurant in Hollywood.92 Hopper recalled that day in her autobiography: "I was there early at the number one table. When [Louella] came in and sat down, mouths flew open and stayed that way. Every table seemed to need a telephone to alert friends. Around the bar was a mob six deep. In answer to telephone calls, more arrived every minute. Nobody moved. No one knew what to do."93
The lunch quickly became news, both in Hollywood and around the country. "Hold everything!" the Hollywood Reporter announced on March 17. "Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper had lunch together at Romanoff's yesterday. That's the trouble with this place-no lasting hatreds!"94 Collier's magazine devoted an entire feature article to the meeting, a piece by writer Dickson Hartwell titled "The End of a Beautiful Feud." "Those few lucky Iwas-there eyewitnesses to the reconciliation rushed to telephones to flabber gast their friends with the intelligence that Parsons and Hopper were lunching together unscratched and smiling for the first time in ten years," wrote Hartwell.95 Quipped another journalist, "Surely the world is big enough for us and the Russians: Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons had lunch together the other day!"96
What Hopper and Louella discussed at the meeting is unknown. In her column on May 15, Hopper wrote, "Who says Louella Parsons hasn't got a sense of humor? At Romanoff's the other day I retorted to something she said, `One more crack like that, honey, and I'll slug you."' "Well it's all right if you do, dear, as long as you let me have the exclusive on the story," Louella replied.97 According to Collier's, the rivals had agreed to use the same news items in their columns on a given day the following week; "by Hollywood standards this [was] as fantastic as if Stalin and Truman ... [used] identical texts in discussing the state of the world. "91 Collier's also claimed that Hopper and Louella had agreed to meet weekly for lunch thereafter. But the promised meetings never materialized. Both women were too insecure to permit genuine reconciliation, and the hostilities continued.
The rumors of a truce elicited mixed responses, both in Hollywood and among the columnists' fans. According to publicist Molly Merrick, many in Hollywood "encouraged [the feud] so [Hopper and Louella] wouldn't get together and compare notes" and were terrified at the possibility of their rec- onciliation.99 Many fans, too, seemed to have enjoyed the feud. Within fan circles, one either "read Hopper" or "read Parsons" and had little sympathy for the opposing camp. On September 24, 1948, Hopper received a letter from one of her fans, who notified her of the "atrocious eating manner of Miss Louella Parsons at the Pomona Fairgrounds this past week. She and a lady friend proceeded to devour full size sandwiches in four huge bites per, chewing with wide open mouths. People in the public eye should possess refined manners."10° Though Hopper never printed the news, she kept the letter in her personal files for possible future use. Other moviegoers were disgusted by the wide press coverage given such a relatively trivial event. "Dear Sir: What with the other problems we are having, high prices, Commies, TaftHartley, Palestine, and our coming elections, may I congratulate you on your article, "End of a Beautiful Feud," commented one cynical Collier's reader. "Hundreds of thousands of your readers must have breathed easier and slept better after reading that the two Hollywood characters are speaking." The editors wrote back: "We look on the Hedda-Louella peacemaking as a model for the UN to follow. Peace, no matter what after war, is wonderful." 101
Exhausted by the whirlwind of events that spring, in May 1948 Louella embarked on a three-week European vacation with Harry; Mecca Graham, an assistant director at Warner Brothers; and Father English of the Church of the Good Shepherd. In New York, before boarding the S.S. America, Louella was feted at the Silver Anniversary Ball of the New York Newspaper Women's Club. Financier Bernard Baruch and actors Irene Dunne, Mary Pickford, Buddy Rogers, Lana Turner, and Marilyn Maxwell attended, and Eleanor Roosevelt, a longtime advocate of women in journalism, sent Louella a congratulatory telegram.102 Indeed, as the tributes acknowledged, Louella had been a pioneer in the field who helped open the newsroom to women journalists. Between 192o and 1950, twenty-three thousand women went to work as editors and reporters, and by 1950 they constituted nearly a third of the profession. As a result of the leadership of such prominent reporters as Adela Rogers St. Johns, Dorothy Thompson, Agness Underwood, and Louella and the increased opportunities for news reporting created by the depression and the war, by the end of the 1940s few professional obstac
les remained. Women were film critics, war correspondents, political commentators, and front-page reporters, and they had attained prominent positions on almost every major American newspaper.103
After a farewell party arranged by Hearst columnist Dorothy Kilgallen- the event featured five hundred helium-filled balloons painted "Bon Voyage Lollie and Dockie" in red and white letters-Louella and Harry sailed on the America for a three-week tour of France, Norway, Sweden, Ireland, England, and Italy.104 In Paris, Louella was made an honorary member of the French Societe de Journalisme, a national press organization, and in London attended a party given by the Women's Press Club of London, which also made her an honorary member.105 In Dublin, after having been interviewed by several papers, she was asked by Prime Minister John Costello to appear on a "goodwill" broadcast, telling the world "what [she thought] of the Emerald Isle." 106 Finally, in Rome, after spending several days in the hospital with a cold, Louella visited the Vatican, where she and Harry were received in private audience by Pope Pius XIL 107 She returned to California bearing greetings to Hearst from the pope, whom she claimed "spoke highly of Mr. Hearst and complimented him on his fight against communism. "'0' Not long afterward, she made a sizable donation to aid Italian war orphans and received a letter of thanks from the papal secretary written at the request of the pope.109
That June, shortly before the European trip, Walter Winchell had announced that his sixteen-year stint with Jergens would end in December 1948. Though his program had been consistently rated one of the top fifteen nighttime network shows, Winchell had said that he was leaving Jergens because he did not approve of a Jergens commercial for its Dryad deodorant, in which he would have to talk about the "decaying odor of bacteria." In reality, according to biographer Neal Gabler, Jergens had rejected Winchell, whose controversial and strident anticommunist statements on the air had been drawing complaints from customers. Louella stayed on with her usual spot, while Winchell switched to a show sponsored by the car manufacturer Kaiser Frazier. 10
Though Louella had earned a 12.2 Hooper radio rating prior to her departure for the Continent-her highest rating yet-she returned to radio rusty. In early August 1948, Variety noted that "the fact that Miss Parsons approaches her script as though she were reading it for the first time (as occurred in a few instances last Sunday when the emphasis was directed on the wrong words and even syllables) can tend to negate the value of `hot copy."' Despite the criticism, in November 1948 her radio option with Jergens was picked up for another year. In the new format, Louella would tape the entire show in advance, instead of only the guest interviews as in the past."' Additionally, as a consequence of savings resulting from the Winchell departure, Jergens allocated an extra thousand dollars a week to the show, which would be spent on higher-priced guest stars. To launch the new format, ABC commissioned a dirigible with electric letters twenty-seven feet high and two city blocks in length that said "La Parsons" to hover over several Los Angeles neighborhoods. 112 By the end of November 1948, the show's Hooper ratings had moved up to 12.8; by the end of December, they were at 16.1; and by March 1949, 19.3, making Louella's program the ninth most popular radio show in the country.13 While some commentators speculated that the show's success was the result of the more expensive guest stars, Daily Variety attributed the high ratings to the tape editing, which eliminated the gaffes and diction problems that had marred earlier broadcasts.' 14
Nonetheless, Louella's radio voice was still the butt of jokes, so lampooned in Hollywood that it had become a regular feature in a local stand-up comedy routine. Arthur Blake, a twenty-nine-year-old mimic, did an unflattering satire of Louella as part of his regular act at local nightclubs, and while Louella was in Europe during the summer of 1948, he had agreed to do the number on Eddie Cantor's radio show. Shortly before the broadcast deadline, however, he was canceled out of the program. Louella's agent, Wynn Roccamora, and several Hearst attorneys had apparently pressured Cantor to cancel Blake, though Cantor later said that he had made the decision out of respect for Louella, who was overseas and would not be able to defend herself. There were rumors around town, however, that it was Louella herself who had pressured Cantor, threatening both Cantor and NBC with a lawsuit if Blake appeared. 115
The winter of 1948-49 was marked by celebration, illness, and, as ever, the ongoing struggle for news. Harry returned to Johns Hopkins for treatment in October 1948, came back to Hollywood in November, and was back in Johns Hopkins again by the end of the year. During his hospital stay, he had a steady stream of celebrity guests, including Frank Sinatra. Ever the gambling addict, while in the hospital Harry tried to sucker in doctors, nurses, interns, and even orderlies, offering odds as high as ten to one if they would bet with him on the 1948 presidential election. When he was informed that the hospital staff was prohibited from betting with patients, he then called Hollywood and tried to coax bets out of Darryl Zanuck, Joe Schenck, and his closest friend, MGM publicist Harry Brand. When this failed, Harry, infuriated, demanded his clothes, saying that he wanted to go find a bookie. The nurses refused to give him his clothes, and he became even more outraged. How was he to lay money with bookmakers if he didn't have any pockets to carry the money in? he asked. Not surprisingly, his attempts were thwarted, and he lay in bed while Harry Truman won the election. 116
That December, Louella reported Louis B. Mayer's marriage to Lorena Danker, widow of the wealthy advertising executive Danny Danker. It was one of the biggest stories in Hollywood that winter, made particularly sweet for Louella by the fact that Hopper had published a report claiming that the couple would not marry. 117 Angry that Mayer had given Louella the exclusive, the Los Angeles Times, Mirror, and Los Angeles Daily News subsequently refused all MGM publicity. 18 Shortly after the Mayer exclusive, Louella was ill with a cold for two weeks, but she recovered in time to greet Harry, who returned from Johns Hopkins in January 1949. That month, the couple celebrated their nineteenth wedding anniversary at a party thrown by Rosalind Russell and Frederick Brisson at the Cocoanut Grove; two months later Louella held the five hundredth business luncheon with her staff at the Brown Derby, where she and her staff celebrated her record readership-the column appeared in 950 papers worldwide-and rehashed her most famous exclusives."9 Little did they know that the biggest scoop was yet to come.
IN 1949 RITA HAYWORTH AND INGRID BERGMAN were two of the nation's most beloved screen stars. Hayworth was known primarily for her sex appeal on the screen, and Bergman played a nun. Though their film personae could not have been more different, they were flip sides of the same coin, both products of the sexual schizophrenia of postwar America. The war had encouraged a kind of sexual liberalism. Separated for the duration, many couples had affairs, and across the nation there was greater tolerance for premarital sexual experimentation; but peace ushered in conservatism, as couples married, settled in the suburbs, and began the baby boom. From this sprang a paradox: even while media images grew increasingly sexual and the public discussion of matters erotic became less taboo, postwar Americans were taught to fear and condemn the unchecked female libido. Women's workforce participation during the war, claimed one textbook, had led to a "greater degree of sexual laxity" and the "decay of established moralities was the inevitable result."' The containment of female sexuality in the marital bedroom became a middle-class obsession during the 1950s, just as the containment of communism preoccupied the makers of foreign policy. Louella's reporting on Bergman and Hayworth in 1949-5o not only reinforced the dominant sexual ethic but also led to an odd reversal of fortune that neither woman would have expected. To many Americans, the nun became a harlot and the sex goddess, a storybook princess.
In 1949, Rita Hayworth was to millions of Americans the quintessential bombshell. She had played the starring role in that year's film noir, Gilda, with an unforgettably lusty bravado, popping eyeballs throughout the country with her fiery red hair, skin-tight dress, long black gloves, and a smoldering torch song called "Put the Blame on Marne." In person, Hayworth
was friendly and obsequious, which allowed Louella to forgive the fact that for two years she had been married to Orson Welles. ("When Rita first separated from Orson Welles I lunched with her. She was very frank and said she couldn't live up to his giant intellect. You get fed up listening to how great a person he is and you get weary of so much egotism," she wrote in a 1947 Photoplay article.)2 Louella also pitied Hayworth, who, like Louella, struggled with insecurity and depression despite her overwhelming stardom.
They had known each other for years. Louella first saw Hayworth in the Mexican gambling resort Agua Caliente in 1935. Then known by her birth name, Marguerita Cansino, the teenaged Hayworth was dancing in a team with her father, Eduardo. "As dancers," Louella recalled, "they were superb.... I felt that they had great potential-as dancers." Marguerita, however, was overweight, and according to Louella, "dark-almost black haired ... and painfully shy."3 To her surprise the next day, Louella found that the producer Winfield Sheehan, who was also in Agua Caliente, had signed the young woman to a contract with the Fox studio. Marguerita was then taken to Hollywood and renamed Rita Hayworth.
Between 1935 and 1937 Hayworth made three films, to lukewarm reviews. When Sheehan was fired as production head at Fox, the lead for the film Ramona was given to Loretta Young instead of Hayworth, and according to Louella, "by all the logic of Hollywood, that should have been the end of Rita Hayworth's career."4 Enter Edward Judson, a balding automobile salesman originally from Texas, who was twenty-two years Hayworth's senior. After falling in love with Hayworth, Judson became determined to make her into a star and proceeded to act as her agent. Soon afterward, they married. After refashioning Hayworth as a seductive redhead-in one of the most famous celebrity makeovers of the 1940s, her eyebrows were plucked, her hairline was raised through electrolysis, and she lost weight Judson then "sold" his wife to Harry Cohn of Columbia, and in 1937 she signed a contract. Hayworth soon learned that there was a price to pay for her success: Judson ruled her life outside the studio. Before she got dressed each morning, he had to approve her clothes, and he similarly regulated her social and business engagements. It was during this period that Louella got to know Hayworth. Once, during an interview, Hayworth had confided to Louella that she felt "hollow inside. As if I were a puppet." She had realized that she did not love Judson and admitted to Louella that she wanted a divorce.5
The First Lady of Hollywood Page 37