The Hiltons: The True Story of an American Dynasty

by Taraborrelli, J. Randy

  “You’re not getting serious about another dame, Nick,” John Carroll warned him. “Don’t forget our new rule.”

  Nicky laughed. “Yeah, the new rule is: They’re all fine, as long as you don’t take any of ’em seriously.”

  The two men clinked glasses.

  The new woman in Nicky’s life was yet another Hollywood knockout, this time up-and-coming Universal Pictures starlet, twenty-three-year-old divorcee Mamie Van Doren. Born Joan Lucille Olander, of Swedish, German, and English heritage, she hailed from the small town of Rowena, South Dakota. Discovered by Howard Hughes on the night she was crowned Miss Palm Springs, Mamie made a few appearances in bit parts of RKO movies before signing with Universal in January 1953 and making her film debut for that studio in the Tony Curtis movie Forbidden, and then appearing in another Curtis vehicle—this time in a starring role—in The All American.

  Mamie came into prominence during a time in 1954 when Marilyn Monroe mania was sweeping the country, if not the entire world, thanks to blockbuster movies like Niagara, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and How to Marry a Millionaire. Every studio was grooming their lustiest, bustiest, and blondest starlets and hauling them out to compete with 20th Century-Fox’s hottest commodity—Marilyn. Mamie’s champagne blonde hair, curvaceous figure, and sex kitten persona conveyed some of the Monroe mystique. Universal had high hopes of turning her into their version of a sizzling blonde box-office bonanza. In some photographs, when properly coiffed, made up, and costumed, Mamie actually looked as if she could be Marilyn’s double.

  It was Universal publicity department head Al Horowitz’s idea to bolster Mamie’s visibility by having her escorted to the Los Angeles premier of The Glenn Miller Story, starring Jimmy Stewart and June Allyson, on February 17, 1954. When he called Nicky with the suggestion, Nicky—blasé by this point when it came to Hollywood glamour gals—asked to see a picture of Van Doren before agreeing to the PR gimmick. Horowitz cannily sent by messenger a few glossy cheesecake photos of Mamie at her most enticing to Nicky’s Hollywood apartment, and within hours heard back from Hilton declaring that, hell yes, he’d be interested in a date with the new stunner on the block.

  “The night of the premiere, Nicky picked me up in his white Cadillac convertible with red leather,” Mamie recalled many years later. “I was excited, dressed to the nines in my white, strapless Ceil Chapman–designed, beaded dress with a little jacket.”

  As was his style when out on the town, Nicky also looked his best. He could have been mistaken for a movie star himself, decked out in his white tuxedo jacket and bow tie. “He had flawless skin, a great body, beautiful eyes, a full head of hair,” Mamie remembered. “He was so handsome. We were the perfect Hollywood couple, really. I remember the klieg lighting the sky over the Pantages Theatre when we arrived, and there were police barricades on both sides of Hollywood Boulevard with fans just pushing and pushing against them as Nicky and I walked up the red carpet and into the theater. It was so exciting. ‘Mamie! Mamie!’ they were all screaming. But then we were eventually seated close to the stage, maybe three rows from the front. It suggested that maybe I wasn’t quite as big a star as I had been led to believe by the crowd’s reaction to me. The really big names were always seated much farther away from the screen. I was embarrassed.”

  “Oh my,” Mamie said self-consciously as she and Nick settled into their seats. “Maybe you said yes to the wrong starlet. I mean, look where we’re sitting, Nicky.”

  Nicky gallantly took Mamie’s hand and, with a little squeeze, whispered, “We’re going to enjoy ourselves despite these seats.” Then he put his arm around her and, flashing his winning smile, said, “Hell, Mamie. You’re with a Hilton! Let’s live it up!”

  After the premiere, the couple enjoyed the rest of the night at Romanoff’s, a Beverly Hills restaurant popular at the time because it was frequented by Hollywood’s elite. Nicky, a pro in front of the cameras by this time, coached the show business neophyte on how to comport herself for the inevitable next-day newspaper photos. “He told me where to pose for the camera and how,” she recalled. “He held my hand throughout the night, the perfect escort. Finally, he said, ‘You know what, babe? Let’s blow this pop stand.’ We then got into his car and drove all over the city with the top down, the cool night air against our faces, talking, laughing, smoking one Kool cigarette after another and getting to know one another. Finally, he drove me back home to the house in which I lived with my mom. He asked if he could call me sometime, and I said yes and gave him my number. He was such a gentleman, giving me a nice kiss at the door. Then he got into his car and drove off. I thought, ‘My goodness. That was really the perfect date, wasn’t it?’

  “In the days to come, we had many long conversations,” she recalled. “I got it right away that he absolutely adored his father. He spoke about his dad’s success and about the hotel business and about how proud he was of him. I thought, how nice to know a son who has such a great relationship with his father. He adored his brother too, just idolized him, as much as he was in competition with him.”

  Bob Neal recalled an evening at the Hilton mansion with Nicky when Mamie’s name came up. Conrad’s and Nicky’s friends John Carroll and Robert Wentworth were present, as were Conrad, Barron, and his wife, Marilyn. They were all playing cards in the parlor, drinking coffee, and watching television. “I want you to meet this girl,” Nicky told his father and brother. “I think I’m getting serious about her.” Conrad stared at his son without saying a word. No one else spoke either. Conrad glanced over at Barron, as if waiting for his second son to say what was on everyone’s minds. “Not another actress,” Barron finally said, taking his cue. “We’re not playing that scene out again, Nick, are we?” Nicky responded by saying he felt they weren’t being fair. This girl was not like the others, he said, and when the family had a chance to meet her, they’d understand. After a few moments of awkward silence, Conrad finally spoke up. “Is she Catholic, Nick?” he asked, not even looking up from his cards.

  “Well, not everyone’s Catholic, Pop,” Nicky answered.

  “Okay,” Conrad said. He then folded his cards, bade everyone a good night, pushed out his chair, and left the table.

  “What followed was a reasonably levelheaded discussion amongst those of us present of the wisdom of Nicky repeating his history with another actress,” Bob Neal said. “It wasn’t hostile or difficult. Nicky seemed open to all views, which were pretty much in agreement that he shouldn’t do it. Then, at the end, Marilyn spoke up and said, ‘Well, to be fair, I think we owe it to this woman to at least meet her.’ ”

  As it happened, Barron and Marilyn Hilton had recently bought a sprawling Tudor-style beachfront mansion in Santa Monica, a home formerly owned by MGM’s head of production, Irving Thalberg, and his wife, actress Norma Shearer. (Two of their neighbors on Sorrento happened to be Peter Lawford and his wife, Pat Kennedy.) Shearer actually had the house soundproofed so that Thalberg, who was an insomniac, wouldn’t hear the waves crashing onto the sand, the surf was that incredibly close. “Marilyn lived in constant fear that one good storm would end with her antique dining room furniture floating out into the sea,” recalled Bob Neal. “Luckily, that never happened.”

  To celebrate their new home, the Hiltons were planning an elaborate housewarming party. “Why not bring Mamie to the party?” Marilyn offered. Barron didn’t think it was a good idea; he didn’t want to stir the pot. However, Marilyn felt that if Nicky had such strong feelings for someone, the family should at least get to know her.

  Marilyn’s Party

  About a week later, Barron and Marilyn Hilton hosted a gathering for about a hundred of their friends and business associates. By this time, Marilyn had completed a fascinating metamorphosis from a pretty but simple young lady into a truly stunning woman. Her blonde hair was now professionally styled weekly and her shapely body draped in only the finest, most expensive designs from boutiques on Rodeo Drive. Her glossy new appearance combined with the innate c
harm that had always been integral to her personality made for a “new” Marilyn Hilton that was a real knockout. For this night, she orchestrated a Hawaiian-themed party, with all of the guests asked to arrive dressed in Polynesian styles. Hanging tiki lights gave the backyard a magical look, with paper lanterns, hibiscus leis, and lotus blossoms completing the theme. As the smell of barbecued ribs wafted through the air and records by Eddie Fisher, Rosemary Clooney, and the McGuire Sisters played on the outdoor sound system, Marilyn moved with grace through the crowd. She was wearing a flower-patterned silk sarong, her hair pulled into a French twist with large gardenias framing her face. The perfect hostess, she would take the time to share at least a moment with each and every person who was present.

  “When she talked to you, she zeroed in on you like you were the only thing that mattered,” recalled Bob Neal. “You felt you were in the company of someone unique, worldly. She could also be quite demanding. I saw her impale a couple of waiters with an icy glare, putting them in their place. I overheard her tell Conrad’s butler, Wilson, who was on loan to her, ‘You are being paid to work, not converse with the guests.’ ”

  Nicky’s date, Mamie Van Doren, wore a white silk dress cut so low no man or woman could take their eyes off her bountiful bosom. At one point in the evening, she and Marilyn Hilton performed a sexy little hula dance to the accompaniment of a trio of Polynesian musicians who’d been hired for the festivities. “The party spilled out onto the beach under the stars,” recalled Louella Parsons, who was also present, “and it was quite a lovely affair, typical of the Hiltons’ grand, rich lifestyle.”

  Mamie recalled that while she was enjoying a slice of Hawaiian pineapple cheesecake, John Carroll informed her that Nicky had become quite serious about her. “I actually think he wants to marry you,” Carroll told her. “So, play your cards right, sweetheart, and you can have it all. All this? It could be yours.” Mamie listened with a noncommittal smile. “I remember thinking, my goodness, if I was that kind of girl, it wouldn’t have been difficult to break into the winner’s circle and end up with a piece of Hilton fortune, the way his friends were pushing me to marry Nick,” she recalled. “I thought they might have been a little more protective of him, considering the kind of money that was at stake. After all, they really didn’t know me. I could have been a gold digger, for all they knew.”

  Among the many guests were, of course, Conrad Hilton and his date, the vivacious Ann Miller. However, Conrad seemed to do everything he could think of to avoid meeting Mamie Van Doren. Clearly, he did not want to make her acquaintance. At one point she walked over to him, and just as she opened her mouth to introduce herself, he turned from her and said to a passing bartender, ‘Say, my good fellow. They serve scotch in Hawaii, don’t they? So, how about a shot of your best.” Then he quickly became engaged in a conversation with someone else, leaving Mamie to just walk away.

  Marilyn Hilton felt differently; she told Nicky that she approved of Mamie and hoped they could all see her again one day. Nicky wasted no time in taking advantage of the powerful ally he now had in her. When he asked her to intervene with Conrad, Marilyn agreed to talk to her father-in-law about arranging a meeting with Mamie.

  Two weeks later, Conrad reluctantly agreed to have dinner with Mamie and Nicky at Casa Encantada.

  Dinner at the Manse

  When we pulled up at the Hilton mansion, I simply couldn’t believe my eyes,” recalled Mamie Van Doren. “I had never seen anything quite like it. It was out of this world. It seemed as big as any Hilton hotel, the furnishings opulent in a way that would make your head spin. I remember thinking about Nicky’s little apartment on Doheny, which I had been to several times, and I couldn’t help but wonder why in the world he lived in such a small place when his father had this gigantic mansion.”

  After about an hour of sitting in the elegant drawing room waiting for an entrance by Conrad—with Nicky nervously puffing on a Cuban cigar the entire time—Wilson, the butler, approached Nicky and Mamie to tell them that dinner was to be served. “What? But my father hasn’t even come out to greet us yet,” Nicky said in protest. At that, Wilson said, “I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Hilton has instructed me to have you and your guest join him in the dining room.” Nicky shook his head in annoyance and said, “Fine. If those are his wishes. Thank you, Wilson.”

  “We then walked through a complex maze of rooms to the dining room, which was as big as an airport hangar,” Mamie recalled. “And in the middle of the room was a massive rectangular marble table that, I believe, had twelve chairs on each side, and one at each end. At the far end of the table sat Conrad Hilton in an impeccable suit and tie, appearing quite handsome and quite royal. He stood up, looked at me with distant eyes, and said, ‘Welcome to my home, my dear.’ Then he sat back down. I don’t believe he said one word to Nicky. Nicky then showed me to my seat, which was in the middle of the table, where a lovely setting was in place, a solid gold plate with silverware. Then Nicky took his seat at the other far end of the table, facing his father. There was so much space between us, it didn’t feel like we were even in the same room together. Maids and butlers came in and out doing this and that, arranging things and acting dutiful and somewhat nervous. There was so much food arranged on the table, I couldn’t imagine that it was just for the three of us! The best way to describe the experience is to say that it was like having dinner in an English manse in the early 1900s. Very formal and quite intimidating if you weren’t used to that way of life.”

  “So, my dear, how do you like the motion picture business?” Conrad asked Mamie as a maid dished out a lobster pâté appetizer. Conrad never looked directly at Mamie. Instead he kept his gaze straight ahead, at Nicky.

  “It’s interesting,” Mamie said uncomfortably. “You meet so many people, you know?”

  Conrad continued to stare at Nicky, who then awkwardly parroted Mamie’s answer. “It’s interesting for her, Pop,” he said. “She meets so many people, you know?”

  “Indeed,” said Conrad. “And how, may I ask, did you happen upon the motion picture business, my dear?” he asked, still not taking his eyes off Nicky.

  “Well, Howard Hughes helped me a great deal,” Mamie said. His gaze still fixed on Nicky, Conrad acted as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “Howard Hughes sort of discovered her, Pop,” Nicky repeated nervously.

  “Indeed,” Conrad said with an arched eyebrow. “I’m sure he did.”

  And on it went, with Conrad asking questions of Mamie but never actually acknowledging her presence, and Nicky answering for her. “Needless to say,” Mamie recalled, “I did not feel welcomed.”

  After dinner, Nicky and Conrad found themselves in an adversarial discussion about a ballpoint pen business in which Nicky had recently become invested. The idea was to have large ballpoint pens placed in the rooms of Hilton hotels all over the world, which guests would then pay for on an honor basis, leaving behind a dollar for a set of two. Though Conrad’s intuition told him it was a bad idea, he had decided to go along with it in order to support his son’s vision. However, so far, the concept was not turning a profit. Conrad chose this moment to bring his disappointment in it to Nicky’s attention. “People are just taking the pens without paying for them,” he told Nicky. To Conrad, it made sense; in his mind, when a person picked up a pen to use it, the next thing he usually did was put it in his pocket and walk away with it. It wasn’t stealing, Conrad said, it was instinct.

  “But these pens are too long to put in your pocket,” Nicky argued. He explained that they were writing pens, the kind one would use at a desk; they had no click-on tops. So Nicky didn’t believe people were stealing them.

  “But charging a dollar for two pens?” Conrad asked. He wasn’t sure about the price, he said; he was sure, though, that he certainly would not spend a buck for a couple of pens. “And have you taken a look at the books?” he asked. According to the financial statements, Conrad noted, it definitely appeared that people were pilfering the pens. />
  Nicky shook his head at the suggestion that he didn’t know what was going on in his own business. Maybe out of frustration, he unknotted his black bow tie, unfastened the top button of his crisp white shirt, and then let the tie just hang from his collar. He didn’t like being told in front of Mamie that his first stab at an entrepreneurial venture was failing. “It takes time to start a new venture,” he told his dad defensively.

  “Quite right,” Conrad said, conceding the point. “But my gut tells me this isn’t going to work.”

  Nicky didn’t respond.

  (In the end, Conrad’s intuition would be proved right; Nicky’s venture would soon go belly up.)

  After this somewhat tense discussion with his father, Nicky tried to lighten the mood by taking Mamie on a tour of the massive estate. Conrad decided to tag along. As Nicky showed Mamie one room after another, Conrad didn’t say a word, still seeming somewhat miffed about the earlier disagreement. Finally, the trio found themselves outdoors.

  “Say, I want to show you the new pool house,” Conrad finally said to Nicky, breaking his silence. He led the couple down a long pathway through the sprawling floral gardens, past the glistening blue pool, and finally to a nice cottage that looked as if it had just been built. Smiling for the first time that evening, Conrad told Nicky that he had had the guesthouse remodeled specifically for Nicky’s use. He said he felt his son could be happy living there, and would have a measure of privacy as well. So,” Conrad concluded, “what do you think, son?”

  “I don’t know, Pop…,” Nicky said. He seemed extremely uncomfortable.

  “Well, let’s go in and take a look around, shall we?” Conrad offered.

  After opening the front door with a large, ornate key, Conrad stepped inside the cottage and into its parlor, followed by Nicky and Mamie. The living room was opulently furnished, as if having been prepared for a photo shoot that would appear in a magazine devoted to the lifestyles of the rich and famous. There was even a pool table. “I had never seen anything quite so beautiful,” Mamie said. “I remember thinking, ‘This is a pool house? You have got to be kidding me!’ ”