My first movie when I returned to Hollywood after a year on Broadway was The Plunderers, a Western. I had to shoot John Saxon—in the back!
Daddy made his first-ever visit to watch me work during the production of The Plunderers.
Playhouse 90 rescued me from the doldrums and got my movie career going again. “To the Sound of Trumpets” was aired live (and teamed me with Stephen Boyd for the first time).
Where the Boys Are was a stroke of luck career-wise. It was MGM’s highest grossing movie for 1960, and, as I wrote Granny, it never hurts to have your name connected with money. Equally surprising was the bond that resulted with my costars Connie Francis, Yvette Mimieux and Paula Prentiss—a little unusual among actresses in Hollywood. (After all these years I’m still in touch with Connie and Paula.)
I had a new beau in the new decade. Don Robinson and I met on a blind date arranged by friends. A year later we were engaged.
Having never been outside the United States, I wanted very much to do Francis of Assisi because of its Italian location. I played Saint Clare to Brad Dillman’s Saint Francis, and we became lifelong friends.
The Investiture scene in Francis later raised a lot of queries about how it might have influenced my decision to become a religious. It didn’t.
Before Francis started, I had a holiday in London with the Cooper family—Gary, Rocky and Maria. Here we are at the Earl of Dudley’s estate.
My next movie was a change of pace—the wacky Sail a Crooked Ship with Carolyn Jones, Robert Wagner, Frank Gorshin and, my favorite, the irrepressible and irresistible Ernie Kovacs (here in a personal photo that I treasure).
Lisa, a suspense drama about a Dutch secret police officer and the Jewish concentration camp survivor he smuggles into Palestine, reunited me with Stephen Boyd—and put me in the company of a virtual Who’s Who of the finest European actors.
Mom visited the location for the concentration camp sequence in Lisa. She said I looked like the way she felt on her “mornings after”.
The scene of Lisa’s re-creation of the experiments performed on her in the concentration camp was harrowing to do and was shot in one take. Our cinematographer, Arthur Ibbetson, equipped his camera with a special close-up lens, which meant the camera was placed only twenty-one inches from my face. Lisa is my personal favorite of the films I made.
The official engagement photo of Don Robinson and me was shot by Paramount’s top portrait photographer Bud Fraker.
Come Fly with Me was the latest addition to a familiar Hollyood staple, the story of three girls in search of love and security, but it was a well-produced and gorgeously filmed travelogue of our European locations. It had one of my favorite casts including Lois Nettleton, Pamela Tiffin and my beloved Karl Malden. It was my last film.
A second portrait of the Bowen girls—Granny Kude, great-grandmother Nellie Bowen and Mom—the three women who made me what I am. This was taken several months before my entrance into Regina Laudis. I was holding a secret.
Portraits capturing my evolution from teenager to twenty-four-year-old glamor girl
Earl Holliman and I were the guests of Monsignor William A. Carew (to my right) at the audience with Pope John XXIII in the Hall of Benediction. This was the moment when, just as the pope passed by us, his slipper fell to the floor and Monsignor Carew took advantage of the interruption while the slipper was retrieved to introduce me as the American film actress portraying Saint Clare in the film on the life of Saint Francis. His Holiness smiled and took my hand and called me “Chiara”. I’ve been asked if his calling me “Chiara” might have influenced my decision to enter religious life. Who can tell?
“Miss Dolores” shortly after entrance into the monastery. I’m wearing the blue denim work habit Reverend Mother Benedict designed in the manner of the typical outfits of the local workers.
At my Clothing on June 29, 1964, when I received the name Sister Judith. Maria Cooper and Jan Shepard were my godmothers. My friend Father Salazar came from Los Angeles to lead the procession to the chapel. I was uncomfortable wearing a wedding dress, which was the custom then, because I felt it was not appropriate to the step I was taking; it was premature. It was the last time the traditional wedding dress was worn in the Clothing ceremony at Regina Laudis.
In 1980, walking with Lady Abbess on the hill that would become the site of our church
With Father Mike Doody, whose counsel I sought often. Doesn’t he look like he could be in a John Ford movie?
My brother Martin brought his daughter Dolores, who is my namesake, to meet me.
Maria Cooper visited frequently, wrote almost daily in the early years. She was a great help. I looked upon her as a true sister.
Sister Ozanne spends most days up in the tree tops. With her special work habit, she could easily be taken for Peter Pan.
We needed signs to mark the abbey property, and nobody wanted to put up something that said, “Keep Out”. Our signs were designed by Brother Iain and Sister Cecilia to be beautiful, while at the same time a gentle deterrent to trespassing.
The number of ways Brother Iain Highet has served the Community would be difficult to enumerate. For starters, he worked on the ponds and streams, landscaped vulnerable places against erosion, took care of the beef herd and got the hay in twice a year. He led us on walks (here with Mother Jadwiga, Sister Maria Evangelista, Mother Dorcas and Mother Cecilia) to survey our land.
The Community working alongside Father Prokes preparing the land for building Robert Leather Road
The Community and oblates spent years digging rocks on our land to build the dovecot.
(Right to left) Lady Abbess, Mother Rachel, Mother Placid, Mother Noella, Cassandra Beauvais and Mother Anastasia take down a tree to clear the land for the building of our new church.
We raise our own food at Regina Laudis. Here the Community is planting our potato crop.
Mother Stephen aboard her tractor
Hard hats are as routine on our property as veils. Sisters Esther, Ozanne and Alma at the end of a day of chain sawing, chipping and brush cutting.
Mother Debbora Joseph gathering wood from trees the nuns have felled to load into the chipper—a machine that chops branches into mulch
Mother Telchilde has assisted in the calving process over seventy times; here she helped Maya in the birth of Angelique
Mother Perpetua, our master studio potter, at her wheel
Mother Augusta and Brother Iain make the best haying team in the world.
Many visitors to the abbey join us in our work. Here Matt Mittler’s theater group Dzieci works side by side with the Community on haying day.
The 1970 ceremony for my Consecration was held in the the chapel I saw on my first visit to Regina Laudis, and despite the cold, wet weather outside, it felt warm and even cheery due to the golden yellow panels of glass that dotted the window panes as a welcome. My friend Valerie Imbleau, who had returned to secular life following her departure from the monastery, was now a professional photographer and volunteered to photograph the ceremony. Her photos appeared in Ladies Home Journal with an article written by Anne M. Wolf, who was the assistant to my Hollywood publicist, Frank Liberman. Continuity there, too.
At the close of my day-long reunion with Dick in 1979, he asked to take a photo of me. We had only five minutes because the bell for Vespers was ringing, so I met him at the gate.
—The late afternoon was unbelievably gray and gloomy, available light almost nonexistent. Still, I began shooting a 36-exposure roll. I had clicked off a fast thirty five frames when Tarah, an abused runaway Weimaraner who had been adopted by the Community as a pup, came up and put her head in Mother Dolores’ lap. I hit the button and our five minutes were up. Back in Los Angeles, the processed roll revealed thirty-five dull, dark and dingy frames. This is the thirty-sixth frame. I sent it to Mother Dolores with a note saying I couldn’t believe how lucky we were.
God just came in and hit me with my key light.
The way we were. W
ith Dick during the work on our 1980 film about Regina Laudis. We were sitting in front of the carpentry shop, which served as our editing studio. Mother Mary Aline took the picture. (She liked Dick.)
With Patricia Neal during a rehearsal of Anastasia.
To one master I said, “I’m going”, and she said, “Wait.” Lady Abbess taught me the meaning of authority.
To another I said, “I can’t stay”, and she said, “Yes, you can.”
I asked, “Oh I see, you win?” She replied, “No, you win!” Mother David taught me the meaning of complementarity.
Lady Abbess had kept letters regarding the founding of Regina Laudis written to her by Pope Paul VI that she wanted to hand-deliver to his successor, John Paul II. I accompanied her to a group papal audience at the Vatican. I so looked forward to meeting this man I admired and with whom I shared the profession of acting.
When the pope entered, he passed slowly through the room, only stopping occasionally to greet someone. When he reached Lady Abbess, he paused for a moment and took the letters she offered, thanked her and gave them to his secretary, then moved on.
I was stunned that he did not give her more time. I thought Lady Abbess’ heart would break at that moment. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and forged ahead in the line and called out loudly, “But, Your Holiness, I am an actress!”
Pope John Paul II stopped in his tracks and turned back to us, allowing Lady Abbess to explain the value of the letters she had given over to his care. His Holiness was gracious and warm in his acceptance and once again turned to leave, giving me just a flash of a rather perplexed smile.
It was not easy for Mother Noella, Mother Augusta and Mother Telchilde to attend graduate school while keeping up with their responsibilities at the abbey. I was so pleased that UConn Traditions, the University of Connecticut’s alumni magazine, chose to report their story and make them cover girls as well.
Bob and Dolores Hope funded the Our Lady of Hope Chapel at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, DC. Mrs. Hope used some old-fashioned Hollywood PR to get me invited to the dedication.
The Story of Noah, a medieval mystery play that traces its origins to a Benedictine abbey in Chester, England, was presented by oblates much the way it was performed in the Middle Ages, outside, in front of the sheep barn.
Our first theater, a tent we named the Unicorn, was a step above the sheep barn but a long way from what I envisioned.
Our permanent theater, The Gary-The Olivia, was made possible and named by Patricia Neal. (A neighbor, Paul Newman, donated the roof.)
Dawn and James Douglas in A Caprice, the first full production presented at our annual fair by our fledgling theater group, the Act Association
A scene from The Miracle Worker. Melora Mennesson played Annie Sullivan, and Helen Gilbert, the daughter of core oblates Jim and Joan Gilbert, played the youthful Helen Keller. Jim and Joan had, in fact, named their daughter after Helen Keller.
With our 1999 presentation, we had our first blockbuster in terms of donations. It was Love Letters, the A. R. Gurney play that was a finalist for a Pulitzer Prize. With only three performances, we made over ten thousand dollars! We never made anywhere close to that on any other production. The reasons it was standing room only were Patricia Neal and James Douglas.
Nine nuns who after their Final Vows had waited seven years to participate in the ceremony for the Consecration of a Virgin, were finally consecrated in the new Church of Jesu Fili Mariae in the summer of 1998.
Tom Pomposello’s vision for our first Women in Chant recording was fulfilled. Our new church was transformed into a recording studio, and the acoustics were wonderful. I’ve never heard our voices sound better.
Recording sessions were joyous. But tragically, we lost Tom before the second CD was recorded and Dr. Theodore Marier before the third. Blessed we are that Mother Abbess, a true disciple of Dr. Marier, became our conductor.
I am recording a special contribution for the second Women in Chant, Recordare, composed by our Mother Lucia.
Mother Abbess and I listen to a playback with Travis Pomposello, who took over the producing chores for his late father.
During our disappointing trip to Rome in the late nineties, Mother David and I were taken to Saint Peter’s Basilica to hear the Rosary led by Pope John Paul II. Afterward we had the opportunity to exchange a few words with His Holiness. He asked where we were from, and when we told him Regina Laudis, he gave his blessing to the abbey. It was a comforting moment.
The abbatial blessing of Mother Abbess David Serna was one of the happiest days of my life. She is standing on a Peruvian rug in tribute to her father.
The dark night of the soul began its ebb when I met Dr. Norman Latov and started his intravenous treatments.
At the first Neuropathy Association benefit in New York with Brad Dillman, Maria Cooper Janis, Byron Janis and Bobby Short
In my new capacity as spokesperson for the Neuropathy Association I made what would be my first public appearance in forty years to testify before the House of Representatives’ Labor, Health and Human Services Appropriations Subcommittee in Washington, DC. Sister Angèle, Tina Tockarshewsky and Dick made up my rooting section.
At the “Hollywood Homecoming” benefit I got a major surprise. Loyola Marymount University President Father Robert Lawton and Vice Chancellor Father Albert Koppes presented me with an honorary doctorate in fine arts.
As this was my first trip back to California since I left to enter Regina Laudis in 1963, the reunions were emotional. Here sharing time with Dolores Hope, my Malden family, and Don Robinson.
Fiddler on the Roof with Tom Camm (who was a marvelous Tevya), Sarah Robards and Molly Shields
Our theater’s stability is what has allowed it to grow and change from a few wet actors in a tent to a repertory with a high level of professionalism. Since 2007, it has been under the supervision of Tom and Sally Camm, whose association with the abbey theater began over twenty years ago. The Gary-The Olivia Performing Arts Center has emerged with a mission to present and foster excellence in the performing arts through theatrical productions and workshops as an expression of Benedictine development of culture through the ages.
Rob Iulo and Adrienne Camm sing the “Tonight” duet in our production of West Side Story.
I usually can be coaxed up on stage on opening nights (or afternoons as the case may be.) It’s the fire horse in me. Here Sally Camm and I hold our flowers while Tom Camm addresses the audience and cast of West Side Story.
We were fortunate to have Celeste Holm visit us for opening night of Oklahoma! Celeste, a long-time friend of the abbey, played Ado Annie in the original Broadway production. The lady stayed long after the curtain call to talk with the cast.
Patricia Neal was an important part of our lives at Regina Laudis. She was the earth mother—strong, caring, honest, thoughtful, demanding—a friend for life. Here she is sharing her love with Mothers Lioba, Cecilia, Daniel and Jadwiga on their Consecration day.
Mezzo-soprano Frederica von Stade, a close friend and former client of Mother Angèle, sang a beautiful concert for the Community before the ceremony marking the final profession of Mother in April 2012.
Vanessa Redgrave had asked if she might visit the abbey one day and perhaps read a little poetry for the Community. When she came she was even more generous. She brought her sister, Lynn, and brother, Corin, who read with her.
In 2011, Home Box Office produced a documentary on my life that was nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Documentary, Short Subject category. I was invited to attend the Oscar presentations with the director and the producer of the film, Rebecca Cammissa and Julie Anderson. It was my third time on the red carpet but the first time I didn’t worry about what to wear.
I wanted so much to share Granny’s startling silk tie jacket, but the old photos had long since faded too badly to use. The Community set up a Hollywood-style photo op with novices Sister Judith, Sister Maria Evangelist
a and Sister John Mary so that Granny’s gift can be seen in all its glory. (Maybe I should have worn it to the Oscars.)
The Ear of the Heart: An Actress' Journey From Hollywood to Holy Vows Page 48