Marilyn Monroe (22 page)

Almost as soon as
Monkey Business
had wrapped, Marilyn booked herself into the Cedars of Lebanon hospital in order to have her appendix removed. She arrived at night, and was disheartened to discover she would have to give the name of her next of kin, in case of emergency. As she later told reporter Isabel Moore: ‘It was so strange and awful to realize I just didn’t have anyone to call on. But of course, I’ve always been alone and I guess I always will be alone.’

Technically, Marilyn was not alone. She still had a foster family who loved her deeply and was very much in touch with Aunt Grace, as well as Enid and Sam Knebelkamp. However, at that point in time the relationship with both families had become a little strained, with the discovery of the calendar photos. ‘The family did not approve,’ remembered the Knebelkamps’ son-in-law Forrest Olmstead. With that in mind, Marilyn decided not to name any of her foster family as next of kin, and eventually gave the name of her friend David March instead.

She retired to her hospital bedroom, but as she lay in bed that night, Marilyn’s thoughts turned to children, and she reached for a pen and notepad. In the note she scribbled to Dr Rabwin, she asked him not to remove any ovaries, to prevent large scars and to ensure she could still have children. When the doctor found the note stuck to her stomach he was concerned enough to have a gynaecologist on hand to deal with any possible problems. He needn’t have worried, however, as the operation went without a hitch and Marilyn was returned to her room – minus one appendix – shortly after.

As if appendicitis and the nude calendar scandal wasn’t enough, Marilyn’s world came crashing down once again when an executive arrived at the hospital to tell her that reporter Erskine Johnson was about to announce that she was not the orphan she claimed to be. Gladys Baker was well and truly alive, and the enterprising journalist had discovered her existence, much to the dismay of both the studio and their star. Still recovering from her operation, Marilyn couldn’t have been at a lower point, but she kept a brave face and explained to the executive (and the media) that she had never lived with her mother and wanted to keep her existence a secret due to her ill health. When her reasons were published, she once again won the sympathy of the public, but not so much the media, who wondered how many other skeletons were hidden in her bulging closet.

One person who was extremely concerned by the discovery of Gladys Baker was journalist Jim Henaghan, who had interviewed Marilyn both at the Beverly Hills Hotel and at his Malibu home. During their conversations she had opened up about her childhood, describing how her father had died in an automobile accident, and her mother had passed away shortly after. The two became friends, and he gave her a B-B gun as a present, while she returned the favour by presenting him with a statuette she had won for the New Star Award for her Rapid Rise to Stardom in 1952.

Henaghan’s son, also called Jim, remembers that his father thought a lot about Marilyn: ‘He had very good relationship
with many stars because he never did hatchet jobs on them. Ms Monroe and Ms [Elizabeth] Taylor were among many who were his friends. He liked Marilyn and was in a position to see the way she was ground down and marginalized by some of the many who made a living off her.’

The friendship between star and columnist was warm and when he came to write his latest feature, Henaghan dedicated a large amount of space to the story Marilyn told him about being an orphan. He was therefore shocked and humiliated to discover that she had not only lied to him as a journalist, but also as a friend, and his first reaction was to telephone a studio employee. In the phone call, he described Marilyn as a lying blonde who had made a jerk out of him to his editor, and asked the employee to give Marilyn the message that she could ‘take her hearts and flowers and peddle them someplace else in future’.

The employee rang Marilyn at the hospital and within ten minutes she had telephoned Henaghan and apologized, citing a sense of shame for the reason why she had lied, and explaining that her mother was sick for many years and she had never got to know her. The friendship between Marilyn and Henaghan cooled for a while, though not for long according to his son, who remembers: ‘I lived with him in Hollywood from 1958 to 1961 and came home to find Ms Monroe at the house more than once.’ However, for now the relationship became strained and it was too late to stop the article, which eventually ran in
Redbook
in June 1952, under the title of ‘So Far to Go Alone’. This forced Marilyn to send an angry letter of explanation to the editor, which read: ‘I frankly did not feel wrong in withholding from you the fact that my mother is still alive . . . since we have never known each other intimately and have never enjoyed the normal relationship of mother and daughter.’ She later softened her opinion, and told another reporter: ‘I realize that I never should have withheld the fact from the press. But my motive was one of consideration for a person who has suffered much, and for whom I feel a great obligation.’

Another reporter who spoke with Marilyn during her time in hospital was Isabel Moore, who arrived with mutual friend David March. Still in pain from the operation, and obviously thinking about her mother, Marilyn opened her heart about having children of her own: ‘I know how I’d feel if I had children. I’d never want them to feel I didn’t love them more than anything else in the world. If I ever have a little girl, I think I’ll be a wonderful mother to her, and if I can help it, I’ll never be away from her for a minute.’

At the time Marilyn was defending her family history, Stanley Gifford, the man she believed to be her father, was still living in Hemet with his wife, Mary. It had been in July 1950 – less than a year before Marilyn tried to contact him – that Gifford had left the bright lights of Hollywood far behind. He worked hard with his wife to establish the Red Rock Dairy, named after the 1,000 Rhode Island Red and Plymouth Rock chickens that occupied their five-acre ranch. Twenty cows eventually grew to 115 and they were soon in a position to open a retail dairy: ‘Five people promised to try the milk,’ remembered Mary Gifford. ‘After many hours of hard work and much advertising, the business grew to three routes.’ The couple also opened a small cash and carry store on the premises, and sold freshly baked goods and ice cream to locals who would come to taste their wares and admire the resident monkey at the front of the store.

It seemed an odd job for someone who had once enjoyed the life of a motion pictures salesman, but Stanley Gifford settled into it with great enthusiasm. But while he was somewhat mellower than he had been in Los Angeles, Gifford still had a severe manner, as recalled by Darrell Von Driska, who remembers him as ‘a stern man who wore bib overalls; rubber dairy boots; had a moustache and occasionally a cigar in his mouth. I’m sure to his adult friends he was more accommodating.’

It is not known if Marilyn had tried to visit Gifford since the ill-fated trip with Natasha Lytess, but by 1952, after her recent family problems, she was ready to try again. Driving with Joe DiMaggio, the pair arrived in Hemet late one evening, and
proceeded to dine at nearby Von’s Midway Drive-In, owned by the Von Driska family. Son Darrell recalls: ‘When Joe and Marilyn visited Von’s Midway Drive-In I had just left to go home and finish my homework. My dad called to tell me that Joe DiMaggio, one of my boyhood heroes, had just left and I missed him. Needless to say I was bummed. Two years later, after seeing “Niagara” I also wished I had seen Marilyn.’

After dining at the restaurant, Marilyn apprehensively went to the Red Rock Dairy in an attempt to see Mr Gifford, only to be turned away once again. He denied he was her father, recalls Darrell Von Driska. ‘I feel, as others do, that he was protecting his wife.’

At the time of Marilyn’s visit, very few people in the town knew of her possible relation to Stanley Gifford, but as the years went on, rumours started to circulate. Hemet local Bill Jennings remembered that if anyone asked Gifford about Marilyn, he ‘would wink and deny it’. This attitude led many residents to believe that he was indeed the father of a famous movie star, though even after Gifford’s death in 1965, they were careful not to disclose any details to outsiders for fear that his well-respected widow would be inundated with unwanted visitors.

But while most of the residents had simply come to the conclusion that Gifford was Marilyn’s father, some felt they knew for sure, as Darrell Von Driska remember: ‘Mr Gifford told his close friend, Charles Benson, that the rumours were true; he was the father of Marilyn. It was further confirmed when, on his deathbed, he confessed to Don Linden, the late Pastor at Hemet First Presbyterian Church, that he had a romantic relationship with Marilyn’s mother. He never openly admitted to being Marilyn’s father in an effort to save his wife’s reputation and possible embarrassment because she was a school teacher.’

Marilyn was hurt very deeply, and she never attempted to contact her father again. However, there are still some who believe that while en route to Palm Springs, she would sometimes take a slight detour to Hemet to buy milk from her father’s dairy.

Although Marilyn was now earning $750 a week at Fox, in May 1952 her finances were once again causing concern and Fox wanted to put Marilyn on a budget. The studio came up with an idea to arrange for her salary to be pro-rated for fifty weeks, and a loan to be drawn up for $1,700. However, in early June when Fox representative Tom Pryer approached Marilyn with the relevant papers, she refused to sign and demanded they be returned to the studio, citing the fact that she had never requested her salary to be pro-rated in the first place. This was the first but certainly not the last time that Marilyn would stand up for her rights as an artist. At a time when no one dared rock the boat where the major studios were concerned, this small incident was a significant step for Marilyn, and one that shows that she was a push-over for no one.

On 1 June 1952, Marilyn’s twenty-sixth birthday, she was thrilled to receive word that she’d won the role of Lorelei Lee in the forthcoming Fox production of
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.
Shooting was due to begin in January 1953, but first she was to star in
Niagara,
playing the role of Rose Loomis, a cunning wife who schemes to have her husband (Joseph Cotton) murdered by her young lover. Unfortunately for the murderous Rose, the plan backfires and she finds herself on the wrong end of the dangerous plot.

Filming began but was interrupted briefly on 26 June when Marilyn was called to testify against two men charged with using her name to sell photos. Jerry Karpman and Morrie Kapland
had nine misdemeanour counts brought against them, one of which was ‘unlawfully using the name of Marilyn Monroe for the purpose of selling nude and indecent pictures falsely represented to have been posed by Marilyn Monroe’.

The enterprising pair had mailed hundreds of letters ‘signed’ by Marilyn Monroe, promising ‘un-retouched photographs in almost every pose imaginable’, and declaring that she was selling them as she was out of a job and needed to raise money. Marilyn arrived at the court, dressed in a blue skirt and jacket, and open-toed white shoes, along with two publicity men. She immediately took to the witness chair, gave her name as Norma Jeane Dougherty and examined the handwritten letters; she denied she knew the accused and rejected the claim she had ever posed for the pictures. Defence Attorney William J.F. Brown then questioned her, and quite bizarrely demanded to know if she had ever heard of President James Monroe.

‘This is completely immaterial,’ said Deputy City Attorney William E. Still, before Marilyn was excused after ten minutes on the stand. Her presence was brief but effective, for Judge Kenneth L. Holaday found the defendants guilty of five of the nine charges and declared that they would be sentenced on 17 July.

Court appearance over, Marilyn travelled to Niagara for location shots on the film. Checking into a local hotel, she met a woman called Blanch Maj who was working as a chambermaid. Ms Maj later shared her memories of the encounter with her niece, Pat Brennan: ‘One morning my aunt was cleaning the suite, when Marilyn returned to the hotel. My aunt was admiring her shoes and the fact that her shoe size was so petite, like her own. When Marilyn checked out, she left a very generous gratuity and two pairs of her own new shoes!!!! We were all so excited and most impressed with the fact that we had Marilyn’s very own shoes in our family.’

The filming went well, and Marilyn became friendly with the local people employed as extras. One of them, Patricia Henderson, was around Marilyn’s age at the time of the filming,
and the two women ‘hit it off like sisters’, according to Mrs Henderson’s son, Timothy: ‘My mother said that she was like a schoolgirl chum at lunch breaks and liked “getting away from Marilyn” even for an hour. She remembered her complexion as being perfect and that she ate a lot.’

Mrs Henderson was also used as something of a stand-in for Marilyn, in the scene where Rose finally meets her demise: ‘She was paid $50 for doing two of Marilyn’s screams in the final bell tower scene, which was about what my dad made a week teaching. Mom was used for the screams in order to save Marilyn’s voice for the speaking parts.’

Despite having an aversion to the movie business, Joe DiMaggio travelled occasionally to Niagara in order to be with his girlfriend, and together they would travel seven miles or so to a secluded restaurant called Shimshacks, where they dined quietly and even agreed to be photographed together on at least one occasion. When Joe could not be with her, she spent some of her free time eating out with her fellow cast members, in restaurants including the Red Coach Inn, where local man Joseph Jacob worked. He remembered: ‘We gave the screen stars some privacy and kept an area of the restaurant closed so they could enjoy some quiet time without interruption. As you might guess, people followed Marilyn Monroe everywhere she went, wanting to sit in the seat she was in, wanting the napkin she used, asking what did she order, etc. I had the privilege of serving Marilyn that afternoon, and it was a day I’ll not soon forget. I say this because that day I didn’t meet Marilyn Monroe, I felt that I met a beautiful, statuesque vision of what God intended a woman to look like. She could have been wearing a potato sack and had curlers in her hair and it would not dull her beauty, which I found to be both inside and out.