I Love the Illusion: The Life and Career of Agnes Moorehead (57 page)

As Mrs. Blair, Victor Frankenstein’s curious
landlady in
Frankenstein: The True Story
(1973).

Agnes’ final feature film was released early in 1973 —
Charlotte’s Web
,
based on the children’s book by E. B. White and animated by HannaBarbera. Debbie Reynolds voiced the part of Charlotte, with prominent
roles by Paul Lynde (Templeton the rat), Henry Gibson (the runt piglet
Wilbur), Martha Scott (Mrs. Arable), and Agnes as a Goose. Composers
Richard and Robert Sherman, who had scored
Mary Poppins
as well as
several other Disney films, wrote some delightful songs — including a duet
performed by Agnes and Lynde, “A Veritable Smorgasbord.” Lynn Kear
described Agnes’ voice as “strong and dignified — even when stuttering.”
The film did well at the box office, probably due to it being family-friendly,
and the reviews were decent —
Variety
called the film “heartwarming.” And
Agnes wanted to make sure there were plenty of family-friendly films
available. Like Jerry Lewis, in the early 70’s, Debbie Reynold’s lent her
name to develop a string of family movie theaters and, with Debbie’s
encouragement, Agnes supported this project. It never really got off the
ground.

Now we are back to where we began — Agnes cast as Aunt Alicia in
Gigi
.
Prior to its New York opening in November, Agnes had endured a long,
exhausting 25-week tour with the musical. Her arthritis was worsening and
she wasn’t feeling well but she somehow made it through each performance.
An appearance in St. Louis at an outdoor theater in pouring rain was
especially trying. Quint Benedetti recalls her being so exhausted that he
would literally have to carry her from her car to her motel room. Cesar
Romero recalled that Agnes described
Gigi
as “her hardest show” and that
she had “began to wilt from the endless rehearsals and the grueling tour.”
He knew something wasn’t right when she complained of her intense
fatigue and made the comment “I’m tired into the future,” because it wasn’t
the Agnes he knew — who often revived from being on the road and
performing before an audience. From Detroit, Agnes would write to
Georgia Johnstone that the tour had so far been “Madness!” Fred
Carmichael would recall
Gigi
as “an unhappy experience for her from first
to last.” Unhappy due to the show not living up to her expectations and
unhappy too because her health was clearly declining.

In October, just prior to the Broadway opening, she did get a reprieve
and was able to travel to her beloved Ohio farm where she could enjoy
the cool, crisp fall weather and its beautiful colors. She often found
peace, serenity and renewal at the farm. Freddie Jones would recall, “She
often mentioned how serene it was at the farm . . . It replaced ships,
trains and everything as a private place. Once she stopped me at what
I was doing and said, ‘Freddie, don’t you ever listen to silence?’” She told
the
Los Angeles Times
in 1970 that on her farm, “there are forests, streams,
fresh air, tranquility, time for reading and reflecting. This is the source
of beauty.”

She liked and enjoyed Vic and Margery Stover, the couple who managed
the farm and lived in the old farm house. They had a young and active
family which gave her great pleasure when she visited. Margery Stover related
to author Warren Sherk how the children would put up signs with streamers
welcoming Agnes home whenever she came to the farm, which was at most
two or three times per year. This would be her final visit to the farm. When
she was in New York appearing in
Gigi,
the Stovers sent her a cyclamen
plant; she wrote back thanking them for remembering “this tired, weary
traveler who longs for home and fireside.” For her final Christmas they
remembered her with a “beautiful collection of gifts,” including a lilac tote
bag and soap, which Aggie told them was “almost too pretty to use,” as well
as the book,
The Prayers of Peter Marshall
. “I shall treasure it,” she replied
in gratitude.

Clearly she knew something was wrong and maybe even in the back of
her mind she knew it could be a recurrence of the cancer she had so
bravely fought off in 1972. But she didn’t really want to acknowledge it
openly — yet to many people who saw her during those last weeks prior to
her leaving
Gigi
, she would acknowledge her concern. Quint Benedetti
states that a young former acting student and nurse by profession was
“slowly wheedling her way into Agnes’ life.” He says that during the run of
Gigi
the young woman began giving painkilling shots to Agnes. But it
should be made clear that Benedetti is quite biased against this young
woman and claims that she began spreading ugly gossip about him to Agnes
in an effort to get him removed from Agnes’ employ. Other people this
author has spoken to, including Laurie Main and Debbie Reynolds, make
it clear that this woman was devoted to Agnes and that Agnes came to value
her friendship and companionship. For instance, Debbie says this young
assistant began Agnes on a regiment of eating peeled grapes because the
grapes were considered an excellent source of fighting off cancer.

Paul Gregory recalls Agnes as “pensive” during this time, as if she knew
something was wrong but didn’t really know what it was. He says he told
her “to live for today — be concerned with the now — right now — live
for the moment.”

For Himan Brown she recorded her final radio appearances on his
CBS
Mystery Theatre
in January — “The Old Ones Are Hard to Kill,” broadcast
on January 6, and “Ring of Truth,” broadcast on January 26, but she was
already in the hospital when these were aired. Brown detected nothing in
her performances or manner during the tapings of these programs to
indicate she was ill — except he recalls that she complained of being more
tired than usual. When I interviewed him, Brown was 92 years old, but says
he vividly recalls the last time he saw Agnes. “She called and said she wanted
to say ‘goodbye’ to me as she was planning on going back to California in
two weeks. So my wife and I invited her for dinner. She couldn’t have been
more gracious. Out of the blue she said, ‘Oh, on the way home I’m going
to stop off at the Mayo Clinic for a complete physical. I just haven’t been
feeling myself.”

Laurie Main recalls going backstage after a performance of
Gigi
as the
last time he saw her. “She looked tired and worn. I said, ‘Sweetheart, you
need a rest.’ She said she was going to take one and that she had given her
two-week notice and she was going for a rest at the Mayo Clinic — and she
did — and of course it was there that they discovered the terminal cancer.”

Debbie Reynolds recalls that one day Agnes called her and said, “I have
to go to the hospital. I can’t stand up anymore.”
She had given her notice and she did leave the show; Arlene Francis came
in as her replacement but it didn’t help and the show quickly closed after a
few more weeks. Jerry Wunderlich took Agnes to the train station and she
was on her way to Rochester where she was initially treated for pneumonia.
While at Methodist Hospital she again requested that no information be
given to the press about the nature of her illness. She also kept most friends
in the dark. While in the hospital only two people were constantly present
— her mother and Freddie, her maid. “I don’t think she thought it was her
final days,” Debbie Reynolds recalls. “She thought she would beat it and
she put herself in God’s hands.” Still, even when ill and near death, her
impeccable good manners never failed her. The Stovers sent her messages of
hope and inspiration including a poem from daughter Kathy:

A
GET WELL CARD ON A WONDERFUL DAY
W
HEN THE FIELDS ARE FULL OF CLOVER AND HAY
A
ND EVEN THOUGH
I’
MFAR AWAY
I
THINK OF YOU IN EVERY WAY
.

Agnes responded warmly from her hospital bed, “. . . Somehow you all
make me homesick telling me about the snow and the deer. I love and miss
this kind of life, the good clean fresh air of the country and hope one day
I, too, will be able to settle down to having my fill of it . . .” She still had
hope. By January 12, Agnes had begun a course of Vincristine and
Adriamycine. Vincristine is a drug which interferes with the growth of
cancer cells, slowing their growth through the body, and is used as a cancer
chemotherapeutic agent.

In February, Agnes was released and taken to her mother’s home in
Reedsburg. According to one report, Agnes’ release was insisted upon by
Mollie, “but this proved impractical and Moorehead was back in the hospital
again.” The record does indicate that Agnes returned to the hospital on
April 9. Her decline over the next three weeks was rapid as the cancer
viciously spread throughout her body. She began to fight the disease with
chemotherapy. She began to lose her hair. Debbie Reynolds wanted to be
with her, but Agnes had forbade it, just as she forbade Debbie to try and
locate Sean. “I begged her to allow me to try and find Sean to have him
come and see her, but she forbid it. She said, ‘I don’t want to talk about it
— it will just upset me.’” The last time Debbie spoke with Agnes was five
days before she died:

“Agnes, I’m flying in.”
“Oh, no, dear, I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Like what?”
“I’ve lost all my hair from the chemotherapy.”
“What chemotherapy?”
“Well, Debbie, it’s over . . . I’m dying. Pray for me.”

Debbie states that these were the final words that Agnes ever spoke to
her. Agnes had finally accepted her fate. She was preparing herself for her
eternal house and to meet her God whom she loved and worshiped.

Georgia Johnstone, her loyal secretary for 40 years, never knew how sick
she was, having “no idea” of the severity of her illness. Georgia later stated,
“Agnes had a firm belief that in order to maintain her glamorous image as
a star, it was essential to remain aloof. She felt there was no glamour
in death, so she decided to keep her illness a secret. It was an emotional
decision to keep her friends away. I was her closest friend, yet she didn’t
want to see even me. Only her mother was permitted to visit.”

Mollie later stated that Agnes didn’t give in to her illness until only three
weeks before she died. “She was convinced she was going to get better and
she fought with all her strength to get fit again . . . then she knew she was
dying and she wasn’t afraid because she had a deep religious belief. Toward
the end, she was too weak to do much and I sat and read to her from the
Bible . . . Agnes died beautifully. Her last word was ‘Mama.’”

Her friends in the industry were surprised when they heard of her
passing. James MacArthur would recall getting a phone call with the news
— surprised — as he had no idea, and neither did his mother, Helen Hayes.
Jane Wyman, who worked with her in five major films and considered
herself a friend, was “shocked” when she heard the news — she never even
knew she had been ill. Ricardo Montalban was opening in
The King and I
in Los Angeles on the night that she died. “I was apprehensive enough as it
was. Just as I was to go on the stage, in the final throes of preparation,
someone said to me, ‘Isn’t it terrible about Agnes?’ ‘What is terrible?’ I
asked. ‘She died today, somewhere in the Midwest.’ I couldn’t believe it. I
returned to my dressing room to try to recover myself. Just as I entered it
another party said to me, ‘Do you realize you are using the same dressing
room Agnes Moorehead used in
Gigi
?’ That did it. I broke down.”
Montalban also recalled that at his next stop in San Francisco he immediately
realized that, again, he was using a dressing room which Agnes had
previously occupied. How? “The lamp bulbs had all been painted lavender,
her personal trademark, you know.”