In the Company of Legends

by Joan Kramer

  I was immediately intrigued. “What happened?” I asked.

  He explained that he’d arranged for Stewart to be interviewed at 10:30 that morning by a woman who was writing an authorized biography of Cary Grant. John always came early and sat in on such interviews. However, he had car trouble, which delayed him. When he arrived at about 10:45 am, he noticed a young, blond, well-dressed man standing at the front door.

  “Who are you?” John asked.

  The man had a distinct Australian accent. “I’m here to see Jimmy Stewart.”

  John said, “He’s doing an interview. You can’t see him now.”

  At that moment, Jimmy opened the door. “Hello, John. Come on in.” Then he looked at the young man and said, “I told you to come back at noon.”

  As the man was heading towards the sidewalk, John thought, “I never saw that guy before, but obviously Jim must know him.” Then he and Stewart walked to the den where the author was waiting to continue her interview. She left about an hour later and, just as John was about to leave too, Gloria came in from the garden.

  She said, “Would you mind sticking around a little longer?” Before he could ask, “Why?” the doorbell rang and she went to answer it. She brought the blond young man into the den and then went back outside. Jimmy said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you before, but I had to do another interview first. Now, how can I help you, son? Sit down.”

  John thought, “What does he mean another interview? If this guy is here to interview Stewart, I certainly didn’t set it up.”

  The man explained that he was from Melbourne, Australia, and it had been his life-long dream to come to Hollywood to meet his idol. He’d worked until he had enough money to afford the trip. Jimmy smiled. The story continued. “So six months ago, I came here and was lucky. I finally got to meet my idol—Muhammad Ali.”

  Jimmy looked quizzically at John, who said, “You’re telling us that your idol was Muhammad Ali?”

  “Oh yes. I’ve always admired him. When I got to LA, I asked a taxi driver if he knew where Ali lived. He didn’t, but happened to know the address of his manager. When I explained that I’d come all the way from Australia to meet Ali, the manager took me to his house. Ali was wonderful. We hit it off right away and he invited me to stay in his guest house. So I was here for three months. When I got back to Australia, I met a reporter and told him about my experience. He wrote a whole article about it and I’ve brought it along to show you, Mr. Stewart.”

  He handed a large newspaper clipping to Jimmy, who put on his glasses and dutifully began reading it. When he’d finished, he looked up and said, “This is very interesting. So what do you want to talk to me about?”

  The man said, “Well, after a while I wanted to come back to California to meet my other idol. So I saved money and here I am.”

  Again, Jimmy smiled. But John thought, “If we’re lucky, this guy is going to ask for an autographed picture. But I wouldn’t be surprised to hear him ask if he can stay upstairs in the guest room.”

  He was wrong on both counts. The man said, “You see, my other idol is Sylvester Stallone. And since you’ve lived in Hollywood for so long, Mr. Stewart, I thought you could introduce me to him.”

  Jimmy looked completely bewildered and replied, “I’m really sorry, son, but I’ve never met Sylvester Stallone. John, do you know him?”

  By then, John was on his feet. He told the young man to follow him into the foyer and then said, “I don’t know Sylvester Stallone, but here’s the number of his publicist. Try calling him and maybe he can help you. Now it’s time for you to leave.”

  But the man said, “Before I go, I must thank Mr. Stewart for seeing me.”

  John assured him it wasn’t necessary. “I’ll tell him how grateful you are,” he said, as he closed the door.

  Back in the den, Jimmy was still sitting in his chair. He said in his typical way, “He seemed like a nice fella. But, John, what do you think that was all about?”

  Just then, Gloria walked into the room and asked, “Has he left yet?”

  John said, “Yes. He’s gone. Now will both of you please explain to me how that guy got into this house in the first place?”

  Gloria spoke first. “I let him in. I knew an author was coming to interview Jimmy. When the bell rang about 10 o’clock, the housekeeper was upstairs, so I opened the door and naturally thought that man was the author. So I took him into the den. You see, I didn’t know the author was a woman.”

  Jimmy continued, “John, I know you told me it was a woman, but I guess I forgot to mention that to Gloria. So when I came downstairs and saw that fella sitting here, I thought maybe the plans had changed. I asked him, ‘Are you here to talk about Cary Grant?’ And when he said, ‘No,’ I figured I must have forgotten about another interview I was supposed to do. I probably should have asked him what we were going to talk about, but I didn’t want to insult him by admitting I didn’t remember. So I just told him to come back at noon.”

  Gloria added, “And since I overheard Jimmy tell him to come back, I let him in again.”

  John tried hard to remain calm: “I know none of us is getting any younger, but in all the forty years that we’ve been working together, when have I ever forgotten to call you to re-confirm interviews? When I spoke to you yesterday, I didn’t mention a second interview because there wasn’t another one.

  “Do you realize how lucky you are? That guy could have been an ax-murderer. Here you have security signs all around the house, and he just walked up to the door, rang the bell, and you let him in without ever asking who he was or why he was here. And not just once, but twice! I can’t believe the nerve of that guy. I wonder how many other homes in Beverly Hills he tried to talk his way into before he came to yours. Now it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he winds up living in Sylvester Stallone’s guest house for a couple of months.”

  After John left and was driving to his office, he began to see the humor in what had just happened. He thought, “Why was I so surprised? That’s Jimmy, the only movie star I ever heard of who comes out of the house and waves to the fans on the tour buses.”

  By this time, I had tears rolling down my face from laughing. The situation was so ridiculous that it bordered on farce. But John was right. It could have been dangerous.

  JK and DH Our relationship with John Strauss evolved from strictly business to a close friendship that also included his wife, Renee. Through the years, we spoke often by phone and whenever we were in Los Angeles, they invited us to their home for an afternoon by the pool, followed by a home-cooked meal. Renee always gave us roses and freshly picked limes from their garden to take back to our hotel.

  During one of those visits, John showed us a scrapbook, which included an original drawing of Harvey by Jimmy Stewart. It was a close-up of the rabbit’s head, with both ears up, one slightly bent. And he was wearing a big, striped bow tie. There were only a handful of these original sketches in existence because Jimmy only did them for a few charity auctions or for close friends. I said, “John, do you think he’d draw one for each of us?”

  He said, “Let me work on it. It may take some time.”

  Harvey sketches for Joan Kramer and David Heeley.

  1993. Authors’ collection.

  Several months later, I received an envelope. In it were two original Harvey sketches and each had two signatures at the bottom: Jimmy Stewart’s and Harvey’s. One was inscribed, “To Joan, with my thanks,” and the other, similarly inscribed to David.

  Sadly, John died in 2001, but we and Renee are still close friends.

  The Stewart profile had received an enormous amount of publicity and many national and international honors. When all the reviews had been gathered into a book, we sent Jimmy and Johnny copies. Johnny called when he received his and, needless to say, was very happy with the overwhelming positive response, not just to the show, but also to him as its host.

  At the end of the conversation, he said, “Please stay in touch, and whe
n you come out to LA, let’s get together.”

  Not long after that, we indeed were going to be in LA and took him up on his suggestion. He invited us to a taping of The Tonight Show and arranged for a stage manager to take us to his dressing room. We talked for about ten or fifteen minutes and then walked with him to his car. Once again he said, “Let’s stay in touch,” and drove off with a wave. That turned out to be the last time that we saw him in person.

  JK However, we did speak on the phone over the years, and he was always eager to chat. We know that “warm” is not a word that was often used to describe him, but he was certainly warm towards us.

  In 1991, when we were producing a profile of Henry Fonda, I called Carson. Since Stewart and Fonda were such close friends, and since Johnny was a friend of Jimmy’s, I thought perhaps he might have known Fonda too. He said he’d met him a few times and had him on his show, but didn’t really know him. When our program was completed, we sent him an advance copy, asking that he not show it to anyone else. We received a hand-written note saying he’s sure his Tonight Show audience will enjoy seeing clips from it before it airs. Then he added: “Just kidding.”

  Occasionally, we asked him to host another profile. We hoped to produce one about Jack Benny and, because we knew how much Johnny admired him, we felt he was the perfect choice as host.

  He called and said, “If Jack were still alive, I would have loved to do it. But I’m not comfortable being on camera without someone to talk to. That’s why the one with Jimmy worked for me; we were able to have a conversation.”

  A few years later, we considered doing a show about Bob Hope, and another about George Burns and asked Johnny again. In each instance, he explained, “I don’t feel about Bob Hope or George Burns the way I feel about Jimmy Stewart. But if you ever find a subject that I really care about as much as I do about Jim, I’d be happy to work with you again.” Unfortunately, we never did.

  He once told us, “I don’t feel any need to leap in front of a camera just to be on television, because if I don’t believe in a project from the beginning, it would show. I’d come off as insincere and, more than likely, I’d make a complete fool of myself.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “I hope this won’t sound unkind, but I’m not like Lucille Ball, who was brilliant when she was young and doing I Love Lucy. But as she got older, she kept trying to recreate the same character with the same kind of broad humor, and it didn’t work. It wasn’t funny any more. I don’t ever want to fall into that kind of trap. Just because something worked years ago doesn’t mean it will work again now. Timing is everything.”

  JK and DH When Johnny Carson announced his retirement in 1992, many of his favorite guests were invited to appear on The Tonight Show during his last few weeks as its host. We heard that Jimmy Stewart was among them, but that he turned down the offer. We believe we know why.

  Not long before, we’d been told confidentially that Gloria was terminally ill with lung cancer. Jimmy had already become increasingly reclusive, likely as a result of her illness, and also because he believed he could no longer accept acting roles due to his hearing loss. He did wear a hearing aid, but still had a hard time understanding what people said to him unless they spoke very loudly. When it was suggested that he still could work and read his lines from cue-cards, he adamantly refused. If he couldn’t react to other actors’ dialogue in the usual way, he preferred not to work at all. He did make a few exceptions, including the interview he did for us in 1991 about his friend, Henry Fonda. But by 1992, he obviously felt he couldn’t make any more personal appearances, not even with Johnny.

  Gloria had been a heavy smoker all her life. Although she was ten years younger than Jimmy and looked in robust health when we last saw her in 1988, the cigarettes took their toll and she died of lung cancer in February, 1994, about three weeks before her seventy-sixth birthday. Jimmy was so distraught and depressed that he seldom left his bedroom, often even eating his meals there, and only rarely agreeing to let anyone come to visit him. Even his long-time friend and former agent, Lew R. Wasserman, told us he’d been calling regularly, but the housekeeper always said that Jimmy wasn’t able to come to the phone and didn’t want to see anyone.

  With the exception of Stewart’s children, John Strauss was the only person he would see. John felt it was important to keep up the routine they’d always had, in which he’d go to the house about once a month and tell Jimmy about the requests he’d received for personal appearances, and to give him his fan mail. John recalled that once, when he forgot to bring along the mail, Jim asked, “Don’t you have any letters for me?” That’s when he realized how much it meant for Stewart to know that people still took the time to write to him. And every so often, John could get him to sign some photos for fans who’d requested them.

  On July 2nd, 1997, James Stewart died at the age of eighty-eight. It was a little over three years after Gloria’s death, and he had lived a solitary and unhappy life since then. After so many years together, he just couldn’t function without her by his side.

  JK When we heard the news of his death, I knew I had to call Johnny. His housekeeper answered, and he came on the phone within a few seconds. I told him how sad David and I were, and at the same time, how lucky we felt to have had the chance to work with Stewart.

  He said, “I feel exactly the same. He was one of a kind.”

  Then he said, “Over the past couple of years, I’d been calling him every few weeks, but he never would talk to me. His housekeeper always said, ‘He’s sleeping,’ or ‘He thanks you for calling, but can’t come to the phone right now.’

  “But two nights ago, Destry Rides Again was on television, and I watched it even though I’d seen it many times before. I always thought Jimmy and Marlene Dietrich were terrific in it. When it was over, I decided, ‘What the hell, I’m going to try calling him.’ As always, the housekeeper answered and asked me to hold on. I was astonished when the next voice I heard was Jimmy’s. He said, ‘J-J-John, how are you?’” (Johnny did a perfect imitation of Stewart.)

  “I told him I’d just watched Destry on the tube and how wonderful I thought he was in it. He said, ‘Yeah, that was a good one, wasn’t it?’

  “Since he seemed willing to talk, I said, ‘Jim, I was thinking recently how much fun it was for me to do that profile of you. The day we shot at Universal was amazing. And people still talk to me about that program.’

  “Jimmy said, ‘I remember it too, John, and I’m still grateful to you for giving up your time to do it. We did have a good time, didn’t we?’

  “‘We sure did, Jim. Hey, how about my coming over to see you one of these days, just for a few minutes?’

  “‘Sure, I’d really like that. Why don’t we talk next week and we’ll set a date?’

  “‘Great. I’ll call you again at the beginning of the week.’

  “After I’d asked how his children were, he thanked me for calling and we hung up. The conversation must’ve lasted for about ten minutes. I expected him to sound weak, and he did sound a little tired. But I was encouraged that he’d talked to me and agreed to see me. Although, I’m not sure he wasn’t just being polite about my coming to visit. But he sounded like Jimmy, and I was so glad I’d decided to make that call.

  “That was Monday night. Then this morning I heard the news that he’d died. It makes me wonder if he had a premonition that he wouldn’t live much longer and that’s why he came on the phone. Sort of a last goodbye. I don’t know. Maybe I had the same premonition too. It’s just such a coincidence that I hadn’t been able to talk to him for years and then just happened to call two nights ago. I still can’t believe we had that conversation and now, thirty-six hours later, he’s gone.”

  Johnny and I spoke frequently over the next few years. The last time was just a few months before his own death. He told me that he was planning to sail to the East Coast on his boat and would call so we could meet for dinner. We don’t know whether or not he actually made that trip, but we nev
er heard from him again.

  JK and DH When he died in January, 2005, both of us took it very hard. Jimmy Stewart’s death hadn’t been all that unexpected. But Johnny’s came as a complete shock.

  In the days that followed, as we read the newspaper obituaries and watched the television programs paying tribute to him, we realized what a unique experience it was for us to have worked with him. We knew it was special at the time, but sometimes when you’re so busy, you don’t think about just how special it is until much later. We genuinely liked him, and knew that the feeling was mutual. And we’re very pleased that he really did want to “stay in touch.”

  He had said that Jimmy Stewart was “one of a kind.” He was right. And so was Johnny Carson.

  Authors’ collection.

  Bette Davis.

  Photograph by Fabian Estivals/Sygma/Corbis.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Tea and Daggers

  DH It was in the late 1980s, probably around 1987, that Michael Black called. He’d been Fred Astaire’s agent when Joan and I produced two programs about Astaire seven years earlier and, although we’d spoken occasionally with Michael since then, it was unusual for him to be calling us.

  “I’ve recently acquired a new client,” he said. “Not long ago I found a note slipped under my door. It said, ‘I hear you’re an agent. I need an agent. Will you represent me?’ and it was signed ‘Bette Davis.’ It turns out she lives in my building.”

  He went on to explain that Davis had a collection of home movies and that she and her assistant/companion, Kathryn Sermak, were putting together a film using some of that footage. But he felt they needed some advice, and thought we might be able to help.

  “What kind of help do you think they need? Do they want us to produce their film, or show doctor it, or what?”

  “No, no. None of that,” he said. “They just need some guidance and I thought that you and Joan were the people they should talk to. I’ll give you some background. Kathryn Sermak had been Bette Davis’s personal assistant, but after Bette was so hurt by her daughter’s book (My Mother’s Keeper), she now thinks of Kathryn as her surrogate daughter and she trusts her completely. They’ve started making this film and I’d really appreciate it if you’d let Kathryn call you.”