Coming home from Las Vegas, closer than ever to being a free woman, Norma Jeane must have had mixed feelings about living with her mother. ‘It seems rather nice to be home again,’ she wrote to Bill Pursel, ‘but I do miss Vegas a little – I think the place sort of grows on one.’
Although still in the safety of Aunt Ana’s home, this was the first time she had had any prolonged contact with Gladys since she was a small child, and the relationship was strained, so when Bill Pursel came to visit it must have come as a welcome relief. He installed himself at the home of his Aunt Louise at 11611 Blix Street, North Hollywood, and remembered seeing Norma Jeane’s mother when he arrived at Nebraska Avenue to visit: ‘Norma Jeane and I were leaving Aunt Ana’s one day around noon when an attractive lady was emerging from an apartment basement below Aunt Ana’s home. Norma Jeane introduced me to this lady as her mother; the lady acknowledged the introduction with a smile and then promptly turned and retreated back down the few steps to the basement apartment. I wondered what I said to cause this rather hasty exit. Norma Jeane just stood there for a few seconds, then said, “Let’s go.” I didn’t ask any questions but I knew something wasn’t right. This lady was neatly dressed; I would guess she was in her forties, rather slim, quite attractive, but noticeably shy and when she walked away I thought she had maybe forgotten something. Little did I know that Norma Jeane’s mother had mental problems – such a thing never dawned on me and I had thought that perhaps as the divorce wasn’t final yet, that maybe Norma Jeane’s mother resented her daughter dating so soon. There was no voluntary explanation from Norma Jeane which also puzzled me. But it was none of my business so I asked no questions and just let the whole thing drop.’
Although Jim Dougherty never mentioned it in either of his later memoirs, he also encountered Bill Pursel during this trip. Bill remembered: ‘I did meet Jim Dougherty when he came to Aunt Ana’s home to get some keys from Norma Jeane. She was expecting him because she had the keys ready to hand to him when he came through the door. Aunt Ana let him in, and Norma Jeane introduced me to Jim in a polite way – she didn’t identify me as anyone special. He acknowledged the meeting with a friendly handshake; he was very polite and I think he said, “Glad to meet you” to me and “thanks” to her . . . I noticed no animosity or jealousy on his part, nothing seemed awkward or confrontational and he left immediately without any conversation with Norma Jeane.
‘One thing I did notice (which is important because I saw it directed towards me in August 1950) was that Norma Jeane was standing – looking right into the eyes of Jim Dougherty – smiling politely but no talking except a short friendly acknowledgement. There was no bitterness, just very matter of fact and almost cold . . . We did not discuss the meeting afterwards – I felt it was not my business to ask her anything; in fact Norma Jeane never talked about Jim or her family, and I never questioned her or pressed her for answers. She was a very fragile gal mentally but strong physically; she loved to laugh and to just be happy without any pressure. I stayed away from prying into her past; we only talked about the present and the future and I liked that.’
Her need to keep her private life to herself is testified by many others in her life. For instance, aside from Jim, the Dougherty family had no idea Norma Jeane had a sister; while friend Dorothy Muir later told the National Tattler: ‘All we ever learned was that she was an orphan – father dead, mother hospitalized. Questions regarding her mother’s health she managed to evade. She would laugh and talk without apparent reservation, at the same time carefully avoiding anything personal.’
Aside from tying up loose ends from her past, July and August were full of hope and new starts for Norma Jeane, not least of which was the possibility of a movie career. During the summer she’d been in Vegas, she had appeared on a variety of magazine covers, one of which was a publication called Laff. Entrepreneur Howard Hughes saw the young model and asked his office to call Emmeline Snively and express an interest. Snively was thrilled, and made sure that the newspapers knew all about it. This resulted in Norma Jeane’s first gossip column mention, but did not lead to any further notice from Hughes, or his company. However, the talk generated by the newspapers led several studios to pay attention to the young model, and before she knew it, Norma Jeane was invited to Twentieth Century Fox for a meeting with Ben Lyon, Head of Talent.
Although widely believed that the meeting between Lyon and Norma Jeane took place on 17 July (followed by a screen test on the 19th), in reality she did not leave Vegas until 18 July. Instead, the meeting took place a week later, and on 25 July 1946 Ben Lyon sent a memo to a colleague, instructing him to draw up an optional contract for Norma Jeane. As well as that, a screen test was arranged for 14th August, as Bill Pursel remembers: ‘Norma Jeane came up with a short script which we practised at my Aunt Louise’s home in North Hollywood. I don’t know if the skit she had was the same one used at the studio or if there was more than one skit, but the script we practised had two parts, one female and one male.’
The couple practised for four or five hours, with Bill urging her to get into the part, but even at that early stage of her career, Norma Jeane made hard work of learning the lines, as Bill’s sister Jeanne remembered: ‘Bill said that he knew Norma Jeane’s lines long before she did – she didn’t learn them very quickly.’ Bill confirms this: ‘She froze; wouldn’t read her part of the script. This was a shock to me and I asked what was wrong. She was afraid I think, so we just wrapped it up right then.’
On 14 August she arrived at Twentieth Century Fox for the screen test, while Bill waited impatiently at Nebraska Avenue with Aunt Ana. ‘Norma Jeane came home,’ remembered Bill, ‘and came running up the walk, flying into the house all bubbly and excited. She was smiling and happy because after the black and white test they had taken a second test in Technicolor, which, she told us, was supposed to be important.’
The test was indeed an important break for Norma Jeane, and it led to her first contract, which she signed on 24th August 1946. However, the name Norma Jeane wasn’t in the least bit ‘star like’, so it was decided that it would need to be changed. Ben Lyon told her that she reminded him of the actress Marilyn Miller, and decided he’d like her to be called Marilyn. Monroe was her personal choice, since it was her mother’s maiden name.
Bill Pursel remembered speaking with Norma Jeane about the name change: ‘She didn’t make a big deal about it to me, but she wasn’t happy about it. She didn’t like Marilyn (and told me she couldn’t even spell it) but the Monroe part she liked OK because it was a family name, or something. The part she was irked about was that she wasn’t consulted before it was a done deal – I think she wanted the name Jeane kept because she was fond of Jean Harlow. I congratulated her on the spunk she showed with the studio and I continued to call her Norma Jeane because this is who she really was – calling her Marilyn seemed distant then, and it does now.’
That night, the couple went out to celebrate her new career. ‘I think we had three drinks apiece, which brings up an important point: Norma Jeane did not smoke or drink or mess with drugs when I knew her. She had a pure soul and she guarded it well.’
Later that evening, Norma Jeane said good night to Bill and returned home. Standing before a mirror she picked up a lipstick and scribbled, ‘This is the end of Norma Jeane.’
Marilyn Monroe was born.
Things moved quickly for Marilyn after being signed to Twentieth Century Fox. A studio biography was prepared, describing her as an orphan who was discovered whilst babysitting for a studio executive. It was pure fantasy but she went along with it, not overly concerned to admit that both her mother and father were alive. Each day she would report to Twentieth Century Fox at 8 a.m. and take part in all kinds of lessons there: pantomime and dance three times a week, as well as acting, music and speech. She also spent a lot of time at the studio ‘gallery’ where she would pose for publicity photos, and sometimes she would ride in parades and take part in banquets, but for the most part she would ‘hang around’ the studio and try to soak up as much information as she could.
After spending all day at the studio, Marilyn travelled back to Aunt Ana’s home and practised what she’d learned, all the time being criticized by her mother, who was showing every sign of not approving of her daughter’s acting aspirations. Her sister, Berniece (who visited in late summer 1946), tried to get their mother to encourage Marilyn in her new career, but it was not to be: ‘I don’t like her business,’ was all the woman had to say.
Shortly after signing to Fox, actor Alan Young was organizing a float in the Hollywood Christmas parade. He was new in California at that time and didn’t know much about the event, so phoned Ben Lyon who told him he’d organize four or five girls to sit on the float. Young liked this idea and, as luck would have it, one of the girls selected for the event was Marilyn (who was still calling herself Norma Jeane), who sat with the others, waving and cheering on the float. Young remembers: ‘After the parade, we went to the Brown Derby but I didn’t drink, and neither did Norma Jeane, so we decided instead to go and get some cocoa together. I asked if she would like to go to a party with me, which was taking place several weeks later, and she said yes. She seemed like a frightened rabbit at first, and I didn’t realize she had been raised without parents. I really liked her.’
The couple only went on a couple of dates; the first being to a friend’s party: ‘I went to pick her up from Aunt Ana’s house and Ana looked at me with great suspicion, as I was taking out her “daughter”, and was a little older than Norma Jeane, but she let her go anyway. I had seen a photo of a church in Ana’s house, and Norma Jeane told me it was the Christian Science church and that she used to go to Sunday School there and loved it. We spoke a lot about it in the car.
‘On the way to the party we got lost and I realized that I’d have to go home and get directions. Norma Jeane looked at me very suspiciously, and when we pulled up outside the house, she refused to go in with me. I assured her that my parents would be there, so she did come in, and it was all very friendly. Of course my parents thought it was a serious thing because I’d brought a girl home! My mother was a Christian Scientist too, so they both had lots to talk about.’
That date was a success, and Marilyn appeared in several publicity photos with Young, showing them both attempting to play the bagpipes. However, the last date they went on wasn’t so successful: ‘Well I thought I’d better kiss her goodnight,’ remembered Young, ‘because I didn’t want her to think I was square. I went to kiss her cheek, and she turned her head so I got her ear instead. I was so embarrassed about it that I never phoned her again.’
That was the end of their short ‘relationship’, but the couple were to meet again several years later, when Marilyn had become successful: ‘I was working at the studio and was sitting in make-up, when a blonde girl rushed up and yelled “Alan!” She kissed me and asked about my parents and asked me to give her a call. After she had gone, the make-up man asked how long I’d known Marilyn Monroe and I answered, “About two minutes!” That was the last time I ever saw her.’
On 13 September, Marilyn went back to Las Vegas briefly in order to complete her divorce from Dougherty. In the presence of her ‘Aunt’ Minnie she was questioned briefly by her lawyer, C. Norman Cornwall, and claimed falsely that she was still resident in Las Vegas, and fully intended to make her home there. When asked to explain why she had charged James Dougherty with mental cruelty, she answered, ‘Well, in the first place my husband didn’t support me and he objected to my working, criticized me for it and he also had a bad temper and would fly into rages and he left me on three different occasions and he criticized me and embarrassed me in front of my friends and he didn’t try to make a home for me.’
After listening to her plea, and questioning Minnie Willett, the divorce was granted, and Marilyn returned to Los Angeles a free woman.
Not long after the divorce was granted, Berniece left Los Angeles, and shortly after, Gladys decided she no longer wished to stay in California and moved back to Oregon. Around the same time, Marilyn determined it was time to gain some independence of her own, and left Aunt Ana’s in search of her own place.
She found a small apartment at 3539 Kelton Avenue, and fully embraced the chance to live by herself for the first time in her life. She started to frequent Schwabs drug store, which aside from selling the obvious, also acted as a café and hangout for budding actors. She became friendly with newspaper reporter Sidney Skolsky, who had offices at Schwabs, and with Steve Hayes, who later managed Googies, the coffee shop next door.
Hayes remembers being introduced to Marilyn by Sydney Chaplin, whose brother, Charlie Jr, dated her briefly. In his 2008 book, Googies: Coffeeshop to the Stars, Hayes recalled: ‘[Sydney and I had] been talking at the bar in the Garden of Allah, and when it became crowded we walked across Sunset to Frascati’s to grab some dinner. Marilyn hung out there and at The Garden in her early years and when she saw Sydney she quickly joined us for a drink.’
Sharing the same favourite joints, the pair would often run into each other around town, and soon became friendly. ‘Marilyn was anything but dumb,’ remembers Hayes. ‘Her only problem was she was incapable of concentrating on more than one thing at a time – and anything for a long time. To combat that she skipped from one subject to another, hoping no one would catch on.’
Marilyn continued her studies at the studio, but became disheartened when her trips to the casting department always resulted in the same outcome – no call. Darryl F. Zanuck, the head of the studio, seemed to barely notice her presence and was certainly in no hurry to use her in any productions. However, he could hardly fail to notice her increasing popularity, evident in events such as a trip to Castroville and Salinas in order to take part in various publicity events.
After travelling for hours on a bus packed with Italian fishermen, Marilyn eventually arrived at her destination, where she was shocked to find hoards of fans and admirers. Stanley Seedman, the owner of the Carlyle’s store where she was due to make an appearance, had ordered 200 photos, but soon found it was not enough to satisfy even a minority of the followers who had turned out to greet her. More photos were ordered and he later told reporter Ken Schultz, ‘We didn’t know how big this was going to go. Before the week was over we had given out either 1000 or 1200 of them.’
The trip was a huge success and Marilyn was bestowed with various titles including the rather curious ‘Artichoke Queen’. Finally, Zanuck could ignore her growing popularity no more and in February 1947 her contract was extended, and she won parts in two films: Scudda Hoo, Scudda Hay and Dangerous Years.
In the first, Scudda Hoo, Scudda Hay, Marilyn had an uncredited role and played in two scenes, although one later ended up on the cutting-room floor, and the other went so fast that it would take a trained eye to spot her. In the second film, Marilyn spent a week on the set starting on 30 July 1947. For her efforts she received a speaking part as a waitress, although as she later wrote to her sister, ‘I’m in it but for heaven’s sake don’t blink your eyes, you might miss me.’
During this time, both Marilyn and Shelley Winters started to attend lessons at the Actors Lab, an establishment led by Morris Carnovsky and his wife Phoebe Brand, and located at 14355 Laurel Ave. Marilyn truly believed in the work that was being done there, so much so that several years later she tried to convince Bill Pursel to attend too. Bill remembered: ‘She tried to enrol me in Actors Lab; she wanted me to become an actor, I guess, as I had done some acting at high school. Without my knowledge she set up an appointment and I know she was disappointed when I didn’t go, but I had no intention to forfeit my last year at Woodbury College where I was an honor student and tops in my major.’
Inspired by her work at the Actors Lab, Marilyn jumped at the chance of attending classes being taught by actor Charles Laughton at his home on Curson Avenue. It was, however, an unfortunate experience; just starting out and not classically trained, Marilyn felt intimidated by her other classmates and the intensity of the classes, and left after only a few sessions. She did, however, continue her studies at the Actors Lab, and started to take an interest in books – buying them from Pickwick Books, Martindales Book Store and Marian Hunter’s Book Shop.
But attending the Actors Lab wasn’t the only training Marilyn was interested in pursuing, and she began lessons at the Beverly Hills home of Twentieth Century Fox’s acting teacher Helena Sorell. Over fifty years later film fan Christine Krogull visited Helena at the home where she had taught Marilyn all those years before. ‘The apartment had undergone no major changes,’ recalled Christine. ‘You could feel and smell the history there. Marilyn had once been photographed in front of a painting in Helena’s living room and it was still there, in exactly the same place!’
Christine spent a few hours talking with Helena, who shared her memories of Marilyn with her. ‘She told me that Marilyn was an extremely talented student. She always followed her advice, rehearsed and practised a lot, and was very friendly. During one training scene she was to eat a slice of bread with meat. Helena played in the scene with Marilyn and when they came to the point of eating, Marilyn stopped – began to search for something – took imaginary salt and pepper shakers and pretended to sprinkle them over the meat because in her opinion that was what was missing from the scene. Helena was surprised because Marilyn had done it so naturally and was more surprised the next day when she came with a present of a real salt and pepper shaker – in the shape of a cat and dog.’
On 15 April 1947, Marilyn attended the Annual Ceremony and Presentation of Honorary Colonels at the Hollywood Legion Stadium, where she received a badge of honour along with seventeen other ‘Studio Starlings’. Then during the summer of 1947, Marilyn and Bill Pursel were able to get together once again, when she and some other starlets were required to travel to Las Vegas for a publicity event at the Flamingo Hotel. Bill remembered: ‘Norma Jeane asked me to meet her there, but when I arrived I wasn’t allowed in. The curtains were pulled across the door and when I told the security man that there was a girl in there I was meeting, he said, ‘Oh sure there is’, however, he parted the curtains and I could see some dance girls on stage. Norma Jeane’s group was seated right in the centre of the room, flanking a long table just below the stage, and she spotted me and yelled and waved. I was very embarrassed, especially when I entered the showroom and the spotlights went right on me! She had saved me a seat and when I made my way to her, we hugged one another and everyone cheered.’
The couple went out to the pool to catch up, but after just ten minutes one of Marilyn’s group came out and sternly demanded she go back inside. ‘The man was very aggressive and I confronted him by threatening to throw him in the pool,’ remembered Bill. ‘He backed off and left, but then Norma Jeane told me she was supposed to be inside with the rest of the girls, shilling at the gaming tables. [A shill is a person who works for the gambling house and is supplied money with which to gamble.] I was so angry I snapped at her and took her back inside.’ For a time, Bill sat at the bar with the actors David Niven and Sonny Tufts, before excusing himself and heading to the door to leave. ‘I spotted Norma Jeane and waved bye to her as I left.’
When Pursel told his sister, Jeanne Chretien, what had happened, she was shocked. ‘Bill told me they were trying to boss Norma Jeane around and I was appalled,’ remembered Chretien. ‘I said, “That’s awful, she’s such a sweet girl,” to which Bill replied “No one’s going to treat her like a tramp while I’m around.”’
On 11 June Marilyn signed an agreement with Twentieth Century Fox to reconfirm her contract, and a month later, on 20 July, she appeared at the Brentwood Country Club for Fox’s Annual Golf Tournament. This event did not further her career, but another golf tournament on 17 August proved to be highly influential, when she was assigned the job of caddy to actor John Carroll and his wife, MGM talent scout Lucille Ryman. The Carrolls were interested in and took pity on the young, determined actress, and quickly befriended her.
This support couldn’t have come at a better time, as just when she was starting to feel slightly confident about her career, Marilyn was unceremoniously dropped from Twentieth Century Fox. Her agent, Harry Lipton, had the unenviable task of telling her the news, and she was, of course, absolutely devastated. Lipton remembered: ‘Her immediate reaction was the world had crashed around her ears – unhappiness and tears. And then typical of Marilyn she shook her head, set her jaw and said “It really doesn’t matter. After all, it’s a case of supply and demand.”’
What did matter, however, was that before her contract ended, Marilyn had been rehearsing for the Twentieth Century Fox annual show, held on the Fox lot. With a staunch determination and a commitment to her cause, she was determined that even though she had been dropped, she would still go through with the event. Kathleen Hughes Rubin remembered: ‘The show was made up ninety per cent from secretaries, mailroom people etc, but there were always a few contract players too. My cousin was in the show and had told me all about Marilyn, saying that she was incredibly talented but had just been dropped. She was sure that if the executives saw the show, they would re-sign her.
‘Marilyn sang a song called “I never took a lesson in my life” and wore a sexy dress. I can still remember what it looked like! She sang and danced a little – the song was a double entendre song and she did it wonderfully . . . but although Marilyn was wonderful, the executives didn’t re-sign her.’
After being dropped from the studio, Marilyn’s income plummeted and before long she found herself in financial dire straits, often not having enough money for food or rent. One of the reasons for this was the purchase of a record player, which Marilyn had bought on instalment when she first signed to Fox. She later remembered that this ‘splendiferous’ player did everything but fry an egg; it cost $1,500 and was custom-made. Her agent, Harry Lipton had remarked that she ‘was out of her mind’ to buy it, and in the end, according to him, he had to make several payments on it himself.
However, when her option was not picked up at Fox, she returned home one day to find a man waiting to take away her record player. ‘I was almost heartbroken as I watched him carry it away, and to this day I have yet to see a more beautiful cabinet or player,’ she remembered. Although she later claimed to have learnt from the experience, this wasn’t the last time she would find herself tied up in financial difficulties, and friends began to worry that she had no idea about money at all.
Her days of unemployment were long and filled with insecurities. Sometimes the young actress would mope around her small apartment, wondering why she was such a failure and had been unable to make things work. Other times she would read and keep herself busy, studying at the Actors Lab, taking singing lessons, involving herself with occasional modelling work and neglecting her social life in favour of trying to ignite her career. Her friendships started to suffer as a result, and Bill Pursel remembers at least one occasion when their plans had to be cancelled: ‘While I was at the University of Nevada, Norma Jeane was going to come up to the University for a dance, but she called it off just a few days before the event because of a photo shoot she couldn’t cancel. I was disappointed and she was very unhappy, but it just wasn’t possible with all that she was doing with her career at the time.’
But sometimes work took a back seat and Marilyn would go ‘people-watching’ at Union Station, or stargazing in Hollywood. Johnny Grant, Hollywood’s honorary Mayor and friend of Marilyn in the early days, remembered, ‘She used to like to sit in the Roosevelt Hotel Lobby, observing people, and would occasionally make new friends. She had a mad crush on Clark Gable and would stand in front of his house, hoping to see him come or go. She would also often place her hands and feet in the moulds of other stars at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.’ Unfortunately, at this point in time it must have seemed that her dream of stardom was just as far away as it had been when she had done the same thing as a little girl.
It was during this time of aloneness and very little work that some authors have claimed she became a call girl. However, Marilyn effectively responded to such stories in 1953 when she spoke about being broke and receiving a phone call from a man who wanted to ‘help’ her: ‘He gave details of what I would be expected to do. He was brutally frank and all I could think of to say was that he shouldn’t talk that way over a public telephone. I didn’t realize how silly that sounded until I hung up and then I started to laugh.’
It seems highly unlikely that the girl who constantly complained of being pestered by ‘wolves’ would ever sell herself for money. But while that story is ridiculous, it is nothing compared to another rumour that, at this point in her life, Marilyn became pregnant and gave the baby up for adoption. Bill Pursel laughs at both theories: ‘Wow! I don’t believe this for one moment. As far as I know this is a bunch of poppycock. I do know there were several women jealous of her after she became Marilyn Monroe and besides, call girls earn big money – I saw no evidence of this with her. I would put no credence at all in these rumours. It’s nothing but bilge . . . blather . . . hogwash . . . someone’s cheap imagination. It sorta makes me angry, or can’t you tell? She wasn’t pregnant when I knew her; she probably had several boyfriends over the years, but when these stories exaggerate the involvement into pregnancy or even intimacy they are way out of bounds. She had too much class to be so careless about who she dated. At least this is where I come from.’
This is backed up by agent Harry Lipton, in an article for Motion Picture in May 1956. He described a party in which a high-powered man offered Marilyn gifts in exchange for certain favours: ‘she refused, turned to her agent, demanded they leave and cried all the way home in the car. ‘What can I say to men like that, Harry?’ she asked her agent, to which he replied, ‘You’ll learn.’ This hardly seems the behaviour of a seasoned call girl, and a hungry one at that.
Marilyn moved around a lot at this time and sometimes found herself staying at the home of Aunt Enid and Uncle Stan Knebelkamp, in order to save money while commuting to and from Hollywood. She also lived in her fair share of cheap apartments, including one on Avon Street, where she later claimed to have experienced a trauma that left her extremely shaken and distressed. Although there are several versions of what actually happened, the general gist of the story is that Marilyn had received her last pay cheque from Twentieth Century Fox and, as the bank was closed, was seeking another way of cashing it. She was in the process of asking a restaurant manager, when she was approached by a policeman, who offered to accompany her to a clothes shop across the street. Once there, Marilyn wrote her name and address on the cheque; cashed it; thanked the policeman and left.
That night, while asleep, Marilyn was alarmed to discover the policeman cutting the screen on her door, to gain entrance to her home. ‘I was scared silly,’ she said in 1953. ‘I ran out of the front door and over to the neighbours.’ Unfortunately, several residents refused to let her in for fear of ‘becoming involved’, but she eventually found one who was willing to call the police, who later arrested the intruder and identified him as a fellow police officer. The incident had a lasting effect on Marilyn and she spoke of it often in interviews, along with her agent Harry Lipton, who later told how he was so concerned he’d also phoned the police himself.
The morning after the intruder incident, Marilyn phoned Lucille Ryman and John Carroll, the couple who had befriended her at the charity golf match, and who had been loaning her various sums of money since September 1947. When she relayed the intruder story to the couple, they were appalled and moved her into their home at 8497 Fountain Avenue, while they moved to their ranch in the San Fernando Valley.
‘It was just wonderful,’ remembered Marilyn in 1952. ‘It was the first nice place I’d ever had, and I felt really independent and sure that something good was going to happen to me.’ Unfortunately, although she enjoyed her new home, she still had trouble forgetting the intruder incident and Harry Lipton later recalled that she was rather afraid to live alone and was forever looking over her shoulder. As a result, she would often spend nights at the Ryman-Carroll ranch in the Valley, but was still haunted by the fact that several neighbours had refused to get involved during the intruder incident. According to Lipton, this brought back disturbing memories of her insecure childhood, and she became very upset as a result.
In spite of any memories of childhood traumas, Marilyn was still very much in touch with Grace Goddard’s family and began taking afternoon coffee with Grace’s sister, Enid Knebelkamp and her friend Catherine Larson. Catherine had first been introduced whilst Marilyn was walking barefoot around a flowerbed in the side yard. Now the three women met regularly at Enid’s house, where Catherine quickly developed an opinion on the actress. According to friend James Glaeg, Catherine felt Marilyn to be ‘worthy of admiration’ but not brilliant, or beautiful. ‘She was the kind you want to cuddle,’ she told James, before adding that she had always wanted to take Marilyn aside and advise her to get out of the acting business, feeling that she would never make it in Hollywood. ‘The surprise was on me,’ she later admitted.
Marilyn’s acting aspirations took a positive turn when she landed a part in the play, Glamour Preferred at the Bliss-Hayden Theater. Running from 12 October to 2 November, she was cast in the role of Lady Bonnie Towyn, a young actress who tries to steal the main character’s husband. The play, which was written by Florence Ryerson and Colin Clements, wasn’t particularly thrilling, but it did give Marilyn a chance to work in the theatre, and she shone in the part, prompting one of her co-stars to comment that when she walked onstage, no one noticed any of the other actors.
The play also gave her the opportunity to be properly introduced to Annabelle Stanford, a model and actress who had been on a photo shoot with Norma Jeane in Las Vegas, and had also dated Bill Pursel’s brother Dick. She recalls: ‘Dick had told me that I looked just like Bill’s girlfriend, Norma Jeane and even photographers would often say the same thing. When I eventually met Marilyn, she was sat in an observation seat at Bliss-Hayden, and was introduced as a new cast member. I looked over and we both shouted, “It’s you!” because we’d both been hearing how much we looked alike from the Pursel brothers. She was a charming, delightful woman with a wonderful sense of humour, and was well liked by people. I never heard anyone talking about her in a coarse way; there was nothing slutty about her; nothing trash. In fact no one I knew ever saw any trash in her. Any image of her being trashy was purely in a guy’s dreams.’