Once Gladys had reclaimed her daughter, she moved the child into the home of English couple George and Maude Atkinson, and their twenty-year-old daughter, Nellie.
In 1915 George Atkinson had left his family’s fishmonger business in Grimsby, and sailed to the United States in the hope of getting work in Hollywood. Maude and Nellie followed him, arriving on the 27 October 1919, and together they settled in an apartment located at 4716 Santa Monica Boulevard, where George tried to etch out a role for himself in the entertainment industry. He did not have quite the success he had hoped for, however, and finally settled for bit parts in movies, and as a regular stand-in for fellow British actor, George Arliss. By 1930 the family had moved to a small house at 1552 La Baig Avenue, just yards away from all the major film studios in town, before relocating once again to Afton Place, where they became acquainted with Gladys Baker in 1933.
For Norma Jeane, living with Mr and Mrs Atkinson was a completely different experience to living with the Bolenders. The English couple were described by Marilyn as being ‘happy, jolly, and carefree’. However, the happy-go-lucky existence of the couple confused the child, particularly because she had spent the first seven years of her life being told that much of what she was now witnessing was wrong. Norma Jeane prayed for them and felt guilty whenever she enjoyed their company and the stories they told of their acting life. ‘They liked to drink a little, smoke, dance and sing and play cards – all of the things that I had been taught were sinful. And still they seemed like very nice people to me.’
Norma Jeane lived with the Atkinsons for several months and during this time she would often visit Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and fit her own hands in the handprints of the stars. She would spend hours sitting in the movies, watching the actors and actresses on the screen, and then imitating them in her little bedroom at home. She fell in love with the cinema and dreamt of being a famous actress like her new idol, Jean Harlow.
But it wasn’t all fun and games. Several days after she had moved into Afton Place, Norma Jeane was enrolled at Selma Avenue School. This was yet another upheaval in the child’s life, and when she arrived at the school without her parents to accompany her, it didn’t help conquer her fears.
In an interview Marilyn gave to Liza Wilson in 1952, she recalled that all of the other children had parents with them, and when a well-meaning teacher asked if her parents were dead, the confused child replied, ‘Yes, Mam, I think so.’ Another student who was watching exclaimed to her mother, ‘Look Mummy. That girl’s an orphan.’ Norma Jeane was devastated by this remark and, in her own words, ‘leaned against a wall and bawled’.
Eventually Gladys was true to her word and took out a mortgage on a small, three-bedroom house at 6812 Arbol Drive, located near the Hollywood Bowl. Gladys bought the house with the dream that all her children could live together under one roof, and although Grace McKee begged her not to take on the responsibility of a mortgage, all requests for calm went unheard. In September 1933 Gladys and Norma Jeane moved into their first home together, but it was also agreed that the Atkinson family would come too, paying some of the mortgage and looking after Norma Jeane while Gladys was working.
Marilyn later described the Arbol Drive home as ‘A pretty little house with quite a few rooms. But there was no furniture in it, except for two cots that we slept on, a small kitchen table, and two kitchen chairs.’ However, the lack of material items was more than made up for by the fact that, finally, Norma Jeane had her mother to herself for the first time in her entire life.
Gladys did her best to provide a stable upbringing for the child, taking her to movies and even visiting Catalina Island at one point, where Norma Jeane was able to stay up way past her bedtime and watch her mother dance to the Curt Houck Orchestra in the Catalina Casino. Gladys also taught Norma Jeane about her religion, Christian Science, and tried to involve her in the practice by performing ‘healings’ on the child from time to time. Materially, things were looking up too when Gladys found a piano, which was said to have belonged to actor Fredric March, and placed it in the unfurnished living room. It became the focal part of the entire house, and Gladys told Norma Jeane that one day she would listen to the child playing beside the window, while she sat beside the fire.
Unfortunately this was not to be, as two shocking events rocked Gladys’ world. Shortly before taking Norma Jeane out of the Bolenders’ care, Gladys’ grandfather, Tilford M. Hogan, had committed suicide. A local newspaper had described how the old man hanged himself in the barn on the afternoon of 29 May 1933, while his wife was out shopping. Shortly after that, on 16 August 1933, Gladys’ son, Robert ‘Jasper’ Baker, died of tuberculosis of the kidneys. The child was only fifteen years old, and the end of his life was the conclusion of the many years he had been plagued by bad luck and unfortunate events.
The news of both these shocking events did not reach Gladys until she had already moved in with Norma Jeane, and it hit her like a thunderbolt. Her first reaction was a tirade of abuse towards her young daughter: ‘Why couldn’t it have been you? Why couldn’t it have been you?’ she screamed over and over again at the shocked and confused child. Already emotionally fragile, the news sent Gladys into a spiral of depression and anxiety from which she could not emerge. While the move to the Arbol house was supposed to have been a new start for both her and Norma Jeane, Gladys now found herself more and more unable to cope with the responsibility of working and looking after her child.
Throughout 1934, Gladys’ emotional health worsened and she was continually evaluated at Los Angeles General Hospital. Grace McKee tried to look after both Gladys and Norma Jeane, but it was a losing battle. Eventually Gladys was persuaded to put the house up for sale, and an advert ran in the Los Angeles Times on 21 October 1934, describing it as a three-bedroom, three-bath English stucco house, on the market for $4500.
Meanwhile, Norma Jeane spent her time playing outside with empty whisky bottles: ‘I guess I must have had the finest collection of bottles any girl ever had. I’d line them up on a plank beside the road and when people drove along I’d say “Wouldn’t you like some whisky?”’ With her mother’s descent into mental illness growing more apparent each day, Norma Jeane began to feel increasingly unwanted: ‘I was a mistake. My mother didn’t want to have me. I guess she never wanted me. I probably got in her way. I wish . . . I still wish . . . she had wanted me.’
But Gladys was unable to show love to anyone, not even herself, and eventually her emotional problems reached a climax, when in January 1935 she had a complete breakdown. Norma Jeane was in the kitchen having breakfast when she suddenly heard a commotion coming from the hallway. Her mother was screaming and shouting, and the Atkinsons were trying desperately to calm her down.
When the child returned from school that day, her mother was gone, and when Norma Jeane asked where she was, she was told, ‘Your mother is very sick; you won’t be able to see her for a long, long, time.’
‘I figured my mother was really dead but they wouldn’t tell me because they didn’t want me to cry,’ she later said. ‘I didn’t know my mother was alive for many years.’ Her mother was not dead, of course, but she was judged insane on 15 January 1935 and committed to the state institution at Norwalk.
Lois Banner and Mark Anderson’s book, MM – Personal: From the Private Archive of Marilyn Monroe (2010), includes a 1962 letter to Marilyn’s sister Berniece from Harry Charles Wilson, who claimed to have been in a relationship with Gladys during this time. ‘The tragedy of her sickness was almost more than I could bear,’ he wrote. He described how he had courted Gladys during the year before her breakdown; visiting restaurants with her and Norma Jeane; taking the child to see the Christmas Parade on Hollywood Boulevard and spending time together as a family. He was deeply in love with Gladys and told her so at Christmas 1934, but was left devastated when she was admitted to hospital shortly afterwards. ‘I almost lost my mind over it,’ he said.
According to the letter, Wilson continued to visit and correspond with Gladys for some years afterwards, until they eventually lost touch completely in 1945. ‘I have prayed for her many times and cried myself to sleep in lonesomeness for her,’ he wrote. His letter has the ring of truth, as he mentions personal information that was not yet widely known to the public.
We know little about Harry Wilson, but research for this book reveals that he was born in 1891; worked as a boat builder; and had been married at least twice before he met Gladys Baker. It is impossible to say whether Gladys reciprocated the love Harry felt for her, but one thing’s for sure: he held a torch for his lost love for many years; not marrying again until shortly before his death in 1970.
Back in 1935, and with Wilson having no legal rights to either Gladys or Norma Jeane, Grace McKee decided to take over full responsibility of both mother and daughter. On 25 March 1935 Grace filed a petition to be guardian of the estate, and thereafter began the long task of logging and assessing Gladys’ possessions and debts.
It was decided that Norma Jeane would be better off staying in the Arbol house with the Atkinson family, as she had warmed to the couple and it seemed pointless to uproot her again. However, there were many times when she felt completely isolated as a result of her mother’s illness. Records show that there were various families living in Arbol Drive at the time, including the Harrell family who were just down the road at number 6816. But while there were often children playing at the Harrell home and various others in the street, Norma Jeane’s feelings of inadequacy made her feel nowhere near comfortable playing with them.
One day, when Norma Jeane decided to run round the block just for the fun of it, some neighbourhood boys stopped to ask what she was doing. Before she could answer, another child snapped, ‘Don’t bother her. She’s just like her mother – crazy.’ It was comments like that which led Marilyn to deny the existence of her mother, often declaring that she was dead.
An oft-repeated tale about Marilyn’s life is that she was molested as a child aged nine or ten. As Marilyn told it, a ‘gentleman’ by the name of Mr Kimmell lived in the house where she was staying, and one day he called her into his room, locked the door, and indecently assaulted her. The general consensus is that the child was sexually assaulted, rather than raped, and when it was over she ran to her foster-mother who slapped her face for telling lies.
Some authors have dismissed this story as complete fabrication by Marilyn, while others, such as Donald Wolfe, insist that the incident took place while Norma Jeane lived on Arbol Drive, and that her mother was the one who slapped her face. Wolfe also names the molester as Murray Kinnell, a character actor who gave Bette Davis her big break in Hollywood and who had also worked on three of Jean Harlow’s films: The Public Enemy (1931), The Secret Six (1931) and The Beast of the City (1932).
It is impossible to know for sure if Murray Kinnell had anything to do with Norma Jeane, but if the assault story is true, and if it was indeed Kinnell who was the perpetrator, when did the assault take place and why was Kinnell living at the Arbol house?
Marilyn never mentioned that she was molested whilst in the care of her mother, which could be because she was covering up for her or because the incident didn’t happen while she was living with her at all. The Arbol house only had three bedrooms, so unless the Atkinsons shared a room with their daughter, and Norma Jeane shared with her mother, there would have been no room to take in a boarder. However, there is a possibility that the attack did take place at the Arbol house but after Gladys had been admitted to Norwalk.
As previously explained, George Atkinson worked as a standin for movie star George Arliss, and he, by chance, was a friend of Murray Kinnell. They had worked together in a number of movies, including Voltaire (1933), The House of Rothschild (1934) and Cardinal Richelieu (1935); the latter was filmed in March 1935, while Norma Jeane still lived with the Atkinson family. It is possible that the Atkinsons moved Norma Jeane into Nellie’s room, hence creating more space in the home, and that George Atkinson invited Murray Kinnell to stay in the empty room, where he had the opportunity to molest young Norma Jeane. We will never know what really happened in that house, but one thing is clear: from that moment on, the child began to stutter when faced with difficult situations, such as reading aloud in class. ‘The continual state of being frightened had started me stammering,’ she later recalled, ‘and people laughed at me when I stammered.’
There has been much talk about why Norma Jeane was removed from the Atkinsons’ care. Some say she had to be taken away because Grace McKee felt the couple were mistreating her, but this is inaccurate, as letters show Norma Jeane kept in touch with Nellie Atkinson for years afterwards, and Grace gave permission for the family to visit the child after she had moved out. Other sources state that the entire Atkinson family were moving back to England, and could no longer look after the child, but this is simply not true either.
Travel records for this time show that while Maude and Nellie Atkinson had travelled back to the UK for three months during the summer of 1924, there were no departures or arrivals listed for any of the family during the mid-1930s. However, there is evidence that would suggest the Atkinsons may have thought about travelling back to England shortly after Gladys had her breakdown. On 18 February 1935, George’s brother Richard passed away at his home in Grimsby and his death could have caused the family to think about returning home. While the Atkinsons may have flirted with the idea, it is highly unlikely that the trip ever took place, as society pages show that their daughter, Nellie, was maid of honour to her friend Margaret Appleton at the end of May and attended numerous wedding showers, parties and ceremonies throughout the coming year. She also married in Los Angeles on 17 March 1939; the wedding announcement clearly stating that the family were formerly of Grimsby and now living in Hollywood. Added to that, when Maude passed away in March 1944, the obituary reported that she had lived in southern California for twenty-five years, so any trip to England must have surely been a short one.
The reality of Norma Jeane’s removal from the Atkinsons’ care was actually the fact that, with Gladys gone, Grace had been forced to sell her friend’s belongings in order to pay off her debts. Gladys’ 1933 Plymouth Sedan (which she was still paying for) was listed in the inventory, along with the Franklin Grand Piano (which Grace’s aunt Ana Lower eventually bought) and a small radio. Grace kept detailed records of her expenditure, and court records show that on 22 May 1935 a payment of $25 was made to Mrs Atkinson for the care of Norma Jeane, but no other payments appear after that. Five days later, on 27 May, the Arbol Drive house was re-listed for sale and on 12 June the home was given back to the previous owners, the Whitmans.
Years later, while driving through the area with her sister-in-law Elyda Nelson, Norma Jeane pointed out the home she once shared with her mother. ‘I lived there once,’ she said, ‘before mother was ill. It was beautiful. The most wonderful furniture you can imagine: a baby grand piano and a room of my own. It all seems like a dream.’
Once the child moved out of Arbol Drive, she was transferred into the care of Elsie and Harvey Giffen, who lived at 2062 Highland Avenue. Harvey Giffen had known Gladys while she worked at the laboratory, and as a favour to Grace the family took Norma Jeane into their home. They grew so fond of her that they even hoped at one point to adopt her. From the confines of the hospital Gladys put a stop to the plan, just as she had done with the Bolender family years before. Gladys was determined that no one would ever take her little girl away, but it seems as though nobody ever thought to explain that to Norma Jeane. ‘No one ever seemed interested in adopting me permanently,’ she later said. ‘I’ve often wondered about this.’
In early summer, Grace and Olive Monroe, Gladys’ sister-in-law, travelled to Norwalk and grilled the staff about Gladys’ condition. In a letter dated 15 August, Grace told a friend, Myrtle Van Hyning, what she had been told by a doctor: ‘He explained to me that Gladys’ type of insanity is the hardest case to do anything with. Her brain did not develop like an ordinary person’s. They examined her brain with a floroscope [sic], and it proved to be about one third the size of a normal human being’s.’
The doctor then went on to explain that if Gladys had never had any worries and had someone to take care of her, she could probably have gone on to live a normal life, However, her condition was incurable and, although she might be able to leave the institution for a while, she would have to be taken back with her condition ‘worse than ever’ if she encountered any worries.
Sadly, Gladys knew nothing of this, and fully thought that she would one day be able to go back to her most recent job at RKO, where she was still well thought of by colleagues. Grace later recalled that she was loved and respected; ‘honest, hardworking, thrifty, dependable and kindly to everyone’. Another colleague described her as a ‘demure little lady who sat at her splicing machine and communicated with no one during her work day’. This may have been true, but the bosses at the studio decided they simply had no time for Gladys Baker and her illness. They decided enough was enough and Grace was in the unfortunate position of knowing they would never allow her friend to return to work under any circumstances.
Knowing there was no turning back for Gladys or Norma Jeane, plans had to be made for a permanent place for the child to stay. The Bolender family wanted Norma Jeane back, but Grace would not allow this, although the former foster-parents did on occasions take the child to see her mother at Norwalk. Nancy Bolender Jeffrey remembers, ‘Many Sunday afternoons were spent picking her up at one of the homes she was at and taking her over to visit her mother at the Norwalk Mental Institute. We would sit on the lawn and eat and visit and watch Norma Jeane and her mother play together. The Bolenders wanted to make sure that their relationship as mother and daughter was not interrupted any more than could be helped. She was always glad to see us and to go with us to see her mother.’
On 10 August 1935, Grace McKee travelled to her aunt and uncle’s house in Las Vegas and secretly married a gentleman by the name of Ervin ‘Doc’ Goddard, a divorcee with three young children: Nona, Eleanor (Bebe) and John. Grace had met Goddard three years before, when she had encouraged his film ambitions and introduced him to B-movie director Al Rogell, who gave him a part in one of his movies. After that, Goddard appeared in several films as an extra, but had failed to make the splash he had dreamed of when he’d first met Grace. Whilst conducting their courtship at Doc’s home at 6146 Eleanor Avenue, he proposed to Grace and she accepted, though they decided to keep the wedding secret, most likely to avoid upsetting Norma Jeane. However, after a week’s honeymoon, the couple arrived back in Los Angeles, where news travelled around the movie studio like wild fire, and on 19 August 1935 the couple found themselves splashed over the pages of the Los Angeles Times.
The secret was out and Grace was eager to convince Norma Jeane that she would still be more than welcome in her new life. To prove it, she moved the child into her home on Barbara Court, but lack of money and the arrival of Goddard’s daughter, Nona, meant that within weeks Grace decided that the situation wasn’t working out. And so it was that on 13 September Norma Jeane had her first look at the building that was to be her new home for the foreseeable future.
The Los Angeles Orphans Home was a red-brick building based in the heart of Hollywood. The location couldn’t have been more painful for Norma Jeane: it was just blocks away from Afton Place where she first lived with her mother. The child had not been told where she was going, but as she was led up the front steps her eyes fell upon the sign, and she immediately realized what was happening. Screaming, ‘I’m not an orphan, I’m not an orphan,’ the confused child tried desperately to persuade Grace to take her home, but to no avail. Before she knew what was happening, she was placed in the Girl’s Cottage, in the south wing of the building, in a room that slept twelve girls.
‘It seemed very big,’ Marilyn told Redbook columnist Jim Henaghan in 1952, ‘but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I just remember it as big.’ There were two dormitories – one large, and one small; the smaller one being seen as the better room, which the girls would try desperately to work their way up to. ‘I don’t know why, because, after all, it was still the orphanage,’ she said in 1952. In the large room, Norma Jeane’s bed was located right next to the window overlooking RKO studios, which caused a lot of heartache for the little girl, ‘I used to sit at the window and cry,’ she said, ‘knowing that my mother had once worked there.’
Norma Jeane bitterly resented the fact that her mother had been taken away, and that she had to live in an orphanage when she was not an orphan. But while Norma Jeane was infuriated with the situation, she wasn’t the only non-orphan in the place. During the time she was there, reports show that most of the children were half-orphans, which Norma Jeane actually believed she was, since her mother had long-since insisted her father was dead.
That said, Norma Jeane still felt that the whole situation was unfair and would never speak with any kindness about her time at ‘the Home’, repeating stories of how unpleasant it was until the very end of her life. ‘A child disturbed and unhappy could get that impression,’ said Margaret Ingram, Superintendent of the home in the 1960s, but insisted that life in the orphanage was not the nightmare Marilyn painted it to be.
Meanwhile, Grace Goddard continued her life as normal, working in the film laboratory through the day and rehearsing for the Columbian Drama League production of Up Pops the Devil at night. The play premiered at the Wilshire Ebell Theater on 29 September 1935, little more than two weeks after she waved goodbye to Norma Jeane, and while it is unlikely the child ever got to see her ‘Aunt Grace’ in the production, she almost certainly heard about it during her visits to the orphanage.
Grace tried to call in on Norma Jeane every week, bringing presents and clothes and taking her out for visits to the hairdresser or the occasional movie. She took an active interest in the child’s welfare, and when she discovered her to be extremely upset after a visit from Mrs Bolender, Grace immediately wrote to the home’s superintendent, Sula Dewey. The undated letter asked that nobody be allowed to ‘see or talk to little Norma Jean [sic] Baker, unless you have my written permission to do so’. She went on to say that she especially did not want her to be visited by Ida Bolender, as ‘her visits seem to upset the child’. Grace included a list of people who were allowed to see Norma Jeane: Elsie and Harvey Giffin, Maude, George and Nellie Atkinson, Gladys’s sister-in-law, Olive Monroe, and Olive’s mother, Mrs Martin.
On 6 December 1935, Mrs Dewey wrote a reply to Grace, on Los Angeles Orphans Home Society letterhead:
Dear Mrs Goddard
When Mrs Bolender was here I told her she should not talk to Norma about her mother.
The physicians have said Mrs Baker would not get well – that means the child must have first consideration.
Will you please give a letter to each person you want Norma to see and go out with? This would be an extra check. If I just tell the ones who are on duty the names of the ones to see Norma there might be a slip.
Norma is not the same since Mrs B. visited with her. She doesn’t look as happy. When she is naughty she says, ‘Mrs Dewey, I wouldn’t ever want my Aunt Grace to know I was naughty.’ She loves you very much.
I’ll do as you request. We want to do all we can to make Norma happy, and to please you.
Sincerely yours
(Mrs) S. S. Dewey
Although Marilyn would always insist that life in the orphanage was hellish – often on a par with the story of little orphan ‘Annie’ – it would seem that the care of the children in the institution was actually very good. Each child received five cents every Saturday as pocket money, along with candy that was kept in large containers in the closet. They also had a barber – Sam David – who would visit the home every six weeks, and hold haircut parties where the children could choose a hairstyle and stay up way past their bedtime.
There were gardens to play in, trips to the home’s Manhattan beach house in the summer, and every October the home opened to the public for the annual fruit and jam shower. This event lasted two days and saw visitors from all over, touring the establishment and giving gifts of jams, jellies, chocolate, canned fruit and vegetables for the coming year.
There was also an abundance of activities during the festive season. Indeed, in December 1935, three months after Norma Jeane’s arrival, the Los Angeles chapter of the National Association of Cost Accountants took the children to the Army and Navy Club, at 1106 South Broadway, for a mammoth Christmas party. The children were able to meet Santa Claus, who presented them with gifts, and then enjoyed a full dinner, before returning to the orphanage at 7 p.m. Then on 18 December, the children, including Norma Jeane, were entertained by the Federal Theater Project, who put on a show which included clowns, magicians, dancers, acrobats and singers.
On Christmas Eve the children attended services at the Vine Street Methodist-Episcopal church, where some of them were chosen to sing, and then on Christmas Day they sang carols in the auditorium above the dining room, before receiving gifts of clothes – sweaters (made by the home’s knitting club), underwear, shirts and trousers or skirts.
Bill Fredenhall arrived at the orphanage in March 1934, eighteen months before Norma Jeane. He has many memories of his time there, and of the festive season in particular: ‘At Christmas we had several special trips out to large parties. One year I remember I attended a party where Joe E. Brown was the master of ceremony. You will remember him as Jack Lemmon’s “boyfriend” in Some Like It Hot. We would receive gifts at these occasions and one Christmas my brother and I were taken out and given complete outfits: suits, shirts, ties, shoes. We wore these clothes when we left the Home for good in 1940.’
There were also Christmas trees in different areas of the orphanage, each one containing toys and gifts for the children. Photographs of the home, taken around the time of Norma Jeane’s stay, show children clutching hobby horses, huge dolls, roller skates and teddies, while gifts also came from local people and even the fire brigade. Bill Fredenhall remembers: ‘The Fire Department favoured the home at Christmas; they would arrive with the sirens going and a truckload of gifts. That was exciting! That happened each year. Christmas was a big deal at the Home and is another example of how they made it a swell place to be – remember this was in the depths of the depression and in that regard we were quite fortunate.’
Shortly after settling into life at the home, Norma Jeane was asked to look after Bill, as he was younger than she was, and the staff thought it would do her good to look after someone other than herself. The girls at the orphanage all had a younger boy that they ‘mothered’, and this practice went on until the home finally closed its doors in 2005. ‘My time with Norma Jeane would have been after meals in the yard,’ remembers Bill. ‘On the swings with other kids of similar ages; I remember very clearly the swings, slide and holding hands, and she would give me a peck goodnight when it was time to go in.’
Whilst at the orphanage, Norma Jeane’s day would start with breakfast, and then she would clean her teeth and brush her tongue. The reason for this practice became apparent as she and the other children passed the home’s nurse on the way out of the building: she would examine their tongues and if there was the slightest hint of a ‘coating’, the children would be given a dose of castor oil. Needless to say they made sure they kept their mouths extremely clean.
After the inspection, Norma Jeane made her way to Vine Street School, which she later recalled as the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. According to Marilyn, the girls would all wear different coloured gingham dresses, and she would often hear other pupils pointing towards her and her friends, whispering, ‘They’re from the home.’
Shortly after beginning her schooling at Vine Street, she became friendly with three boys in her class. This was shortlived, however, when they found out their new friend was from the orphanage. The boys made fun of her status; the friendship turned sour and Norma Jeane went deeper into her shell. ‘I was always shy and scared,’ she later recalled.
The school was close to orange groves, and on a cold day Norma Jeane and the children would stand out in the yard and look at the smoky skies caused by the burning pots of oil, protecting the groves from frost. After school she would make her way back to the home and play until dinner was ready, then there was time to listen to the radio, or read a book from the extensive collection in the library; much of which had been donated by Oliver Hardy, one half of the famous Laurel and Hardy duo.
At the weekend Norma Jeane was taken to Sunday school at the Vine Street Methodist Church, where each child was given a penny to put into the collection. Some of the children got wise to this, however, and soon started hiding their pennies in their clothes – particularly the boys’ neckties, so that they would not be found when required.
But the weekends were not just about going to church. There were also trips to such places as the Ringling Brothers circus, Tom Mix circus, the Ambassador Auditorium, Griffith Park Observatory, the Le Brae Avenue Tar Pits, and various parks. Bill Fredenhall also recalls a studio birthday party for Shirley Temple, along with movies at the nearby RKO studio, held at least once a month. These outings would often result in autographs and presents for the children, along with the odd penny or two from actors on the lot. There were also several movies made at the home, some of which included the children as background players.
When Norma Jeane was old enough, she was given the opportunity of working in the laundry or the kitchen to earn money, and it is here that a large part of the controversy creeps in regarding her memories of the home and her role within it. Marilyn would later complain to interviewers that she often had to wash and dry hundreds of dishes, but Bill Fredenhall remembers it a little differently: ‘Marilyn was talking about the job of kitchen help. We were paid, and this was obviously the type of chore that needed doing daily. We had lots of help and we made lunches too . . . I recall the fun of spreading butter, and peanut butter on a huge layout of sliced bread, and then slapping on a leaf of lettuce and putting it into a bag together with apples and oranges.’
So what about Marilyn’s tales of hundreds of dishes and chores? ‘I am sure her comments about the dishes were coloured by her biographers,’ says Bill. ‘Part of the poor, unhappy child routine. I would guess there were fewer than twenty staff, including matrons, cooks, hospital and laundry staff, but we were loved, protected, trained and cared for.’
One of the people responsible for caring for the children was Mrs Sula Dewey, whom Grace had written to about Norma Jeane. Out of all Marilyn’s recollections of the orphanage, perhaps the only happy one was that of Mrs Dewey allowing her to apply a little make-up to her cheeks and being able to pat her little dog. She was kind and caring, but could also give out discipline when it was called for.
There have been many tales of the unhappy life lived by the children at the home, but very few of these are true. One of the more outlandish stories is that of birthday celebrations: it is said that on a child’s birthday, a large cake would be wheeled out so that the children could sing ‘Happy Birthday’. However, this was no ordinary sponge; it was made of wood with only a tiny space inside for one piece of real cake. The ‘orphan’ would eat the real slice, and the wooden cake would be wheeled back into the cupboard until the next birthday came along. However, this is untrue. ‘A wooden cake? I doubt it,’ says Bill Fredenhall. ‘I never saw it. It sure sounds like one of those “tales”. I don’t remember any birthday celebrations. But almost for sure Mrs Dewey would take the opportunity to give one a few pieces of candy, at least.’
While Bill can’t recall any specific birthday parties at the home, there was at least one party each year, given by Lorena Ann Taplin, whose father, Judge Taplin, had spent eight years of his childhood there. On 19 April 1936, Lorena travelled to the orphanage and celebrated with the children, sharing a frosted birthday cake and ice cream, and treating them all to a film screening. The celebrations were intended for all the children, and almost certainly included Norma Jeane.
For the most part, Norma Jeane kept herself out of trouble at the orphanage and tried to settle in as best she could; her grades were good, she was quiet and well-behaved, and participated in all activities, but there were times she found herself getting into trouble, just like any other ten-year-old child. When asked about her escapades years later, Marilyn admitted that after some encouragement by the ‘tough’ children, she agreed to escape from the orphanage by jumping over the hedge. Of course, the escape did not go to plan, and before they knew it, the disgraced youngsters were hauled back into the building.