In early 1952 Marilyn moved once again, this time into a home at 1121 Hilldale Avenue in West Hollywood. She had been moving around frequently since she left Aunt Ana’s home in 1947, and was beginning to tire of it: ‘I have a horror of signing leases,’ she said, although the waif inside her seemed unable to ever settle in one place. Sometimes she would relish the time she had on her own, filling her home with white flowers, lounging on the sofa reading books, and listening to records while grabbing a quick bite to eat. At other times the solitude of living alone got her down, and she would get in her car and drive to the beach or spend her evenings walking around the streets near her home, enjoying the anonymity of night, when all around her was still and quiet. It was also during times of loneliness that she would try her hand at poetry, a hobby she continued throughout her life. ‘My poems are kind of sad,’ she said, ‘but then so is life.’
During 1952, she had small appearances in We’re Not Married, O. Henry’s Full House, and Monkey Business. The latter starred Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers, with Grant playing Doctor Fulton, a man who finds the elixir of youth. One of the other cast members was Bob Cornthwaite, who played Fulton’s assistant, Dr Zoldeck. He had worked with director Howard Hawks previously, and when Hawks specifically asked for him to be in the film, he was happy to oblige. Arriving several days after the start of production, Cornthwaite’s first encounter with Marilyn happened during a break in production when John Wayne and Gary Cooper were visiting the set: ‘Marilyn walked past and everyone was looking. Hawks turned to me and said, “I think that the overdeveloped quality in the little blonde girl is going to be funny.” I thought, “My God” because she was becoming quite a star and everyone was jumping around for her. But Hawks had hired her because he had to, not because he wanted to. He didn’t like her abilities and didn’t conceal it.’
Meanwhile, Bob began to feel sorry for Marilyn, as it was obvious that some people on the set just didn’t understand her: ‘She was very likeable and also stubborn, which is what saw her through. Lots of people didn’t cotton on to her. She had the strength of a puppy dog that hadn’t been indulged and had been abused but would not give up. She was persistent and that stood her in good stead, but people just had to go along with what she was because she was not going to change – she was stubborn which was both her strength and her weakness. Working with Marilyn – there was a “blankness” – she was both aware and divorced from things, and sometimes I would wonder where her mind was at. I had grown a beard for my last role and Hawks had asked me to keep it on; one day Marilyn and I were waiting for our cue to do a scene and she stared at me, before finally saying, “It’s real isn’t it?” I didn’t know what to say to that!’
Beards aside, Marilyn’s behaviour on set was starting to cause worry and concern. She was continually late, which Cornthwaite believes was a defence mechanism as there was just so much she didn’t know: ‘She was determined to hold on to her position but was afraid to be there,’ he remembered. ‘Marilyn was ambitious and didn’t want to spoil her chances of success but knew if she stuck to her guns and made demands, she might get away with it.’
Even though she was regularly late on set, the cast and crew enjoyed watching the play between her, the actors and producer, Howard Hawks. There were also several humorous moments on set, not least of which was when the monkeys hired to appear in the film took a keen interest in the leading actor. Cornthwaite remembered: ‘The monkeys fell in love with Cary Grant and would leap across the set to give him cuddles. They hated Marilyn and would pinch her and pull her clothes, and she was flummoxed by it – she had had that behaviour from men, but not from monkeys!’
Marilyn didn’t make many friends on set, and gave off the aura of a lost child who just couldn’t quite fit in. As Cornthwaite remembered: ‘Ginger Rogers and Cary Grant were both professionals and there was no overt behaviour towards Marilyn, but they didn’t particularly welcome her – she had a different level of professionalism. But what held it all together was Howard Hawks because he had such power. He was the producer and although there was meant to be another director, he was never there – it was always Hawks who directed as well as produced.’
But not even Hawks could completely control Marilyn’s behaviour on set. She was extremely stubborn, which was her greatest strength but could also be her supreme weakness. ‘Perhaps she couldn’t help her behaviour,’ wonders Bob Cornthwaite. ‘She was so disturbed emotionally and psychologically and just couldn’t help it.’
She was also feeling physically unwell, and suffered from persistent stomach aches, which led her to book an appointment to see a doctor at Cedars of Lebanon hospital on 1 March 1952. Cornthwaite recalled: ‘She kept saying she had appendicitis and couldn’t work and she had to shoot a scene with Cary Grant in the car, which was set for a particular day. Hawks called Zanuck in advance and said, “I don’t care if she has appendicitis. She can go to the hospital and I want her back on the set on that day and every day.” He had the prestige to do it.’
The operation was delayed until the end of production, and Marilyn returned to the set in poor health and with something else on her mind – a blind date with baseball legend Joe DiMaggio.
In 1951, Marilyn did a series of photos with the Chicago White Sox during spring training at Brookside Park in Pasadena, California. One of the players to pose with the starlet was Gus Zernial, who remembers Marilyn with great affection: ‘I was really attracted to her beauty but more than that. She was attractive both inside and out – a beautiful person to talk to and I also believe she had a lot more to offer than the way she was shown by Hollywood.’
The result of these photos was that New York Yankee player Joe DiMaggio took an interest in the blonde in the shots, and when he found out that mutual friend David March could set up a blind date between them, he was more than happy to go along with it.
On 8 March 1952, DiMaggio’s dream came true when March managed to persuade a reluctant Marilyn to go to the Villa Nova restaurant to meet the baseball star. She had no idea who he was, and had seriously thought about calling the whole thing off, worried that he would be a big-headed sports star with a huge ego and no personality. March accompanied DiMaggio and actress Peggy Rabe to the restaurant, in time for the 6.30 p.m. dinner, but Marilyn did not show.
Almost two hours later, at 8.15 p.m., DiMaggio sat nervously drinking vermouth and tearing a menu into tiny pieces, when she finally made her appearance, wearing a blue suit and a white, low-cut blouse. She was extremely happy to discover that DiMaggio was not the ego-driven sports star she had expected, and was actually a quiet individual, who seemed a little shy: ‘He came alone, and I came alone to an Italian restaurant, to meet a group of friends. But we left together – and ahead of everybody else,’ she later told reporter Aline Mosby.
Marilyn drove DiMaggio back to the Knickerbocker Hotel, but politely refused his request for another date. However, shortly afterwards they enjoyed an evening at the beach, and on 17 March Marilyn watched Joe play baseball – the one and only time she saw him play.
In order to decide whether or not to go out with DiMaggio, Marilyn started questioning her friends. One of the people she chose to contact was Bill Pursel, tracking him down thanks to his mother, who had happily given Marilyn his new phone number. By this time Bill was a married man living in Las Vegas and Marilyn was a fond but distant memory. ‘This was the first call I had had since we had parted in 1950,’ recalled Bill.
‘She said she was ringing to tell me about a guy she had just met who I would probably have heard of. She was having some fun with me, giving me clues such as he’s a retired baseball player; he played for my favourite team the Yankees etc. We went back and forth until finally I guessed she was talking about DiMaggio and she told me she’d met him at a party a few nights before. “Do you want to date him?” I asked, and she replied, “I don’t know – that’s why I called you.” She then asked me questions about DiMaggio including whether or not I knew him. I told her I didn’t, but that he was an idol of mine, and she then changed the subject, asking me if I ever visited Los Angeles and saying she knew that I’d got married. “Is she pretty?” she asked. “Yes, she’s very pretty,” I said, and she immediately changed the subject back to Joe. I told her he was a quiet type who would probably be very good for her. Looking back I guess I didn’t give her the right info; I hadn’t known at that time that he had a jealous nature.’
The relationship with DiMaggio wasn’t smooth sailing even from the beginning, as he not only came with an ex-wife, actress Dorothy Arnold, but also a son, Joe DiMaggio Jr, who was ten years old. Marilyn did her best to befriend the child, even taking him to the pool at the Bel Air Hotel, remaining by his side, and buying him cake and ice cream. It didn’t take long for them to become friends, but when Joe Jr started calling Marilyn ‘The Doll’ in front of his mother, and then the pool outing hit the headlines, Dorothy was furious.
‘Joe is taking the boy to places not suitable for his age,’ Dorothy was reported as saying, while years later, a relative gave her opinion on the ‘feud’ between Marilyn and Joe’s ex-wife and the adoration of Joe Junior: Dorothy ‘was not one to talk about anyone – she was a very caring, down-to-earth person. I only remember her great dislike for Joe and Marilyn as they were taking Joe Junior to bars, which upset Dorothy to no end. She fought constantly about child support. Joe Junior liked Marilyn a lot, but he did not like his father. Joe Senior wanted Joe Junior to play ball as well as he did – the son was always pressured to do better, but he couldn’t live up to his father’s standards.’
Added to that, DiMaggio was now in retirement from baseball and had no interest in fame or the acting business. He was attracted to Marilyn as a human being, not an actress, and as a result, she was forced to attend parties and award shows not with DiMaggio, but with friends such as Sidney Skolsky. She spoke about this to reporter Sheila Graham: ‘It wouldn’t matter what I won or whether I’d want him to come with me or not, he never would. At least he’s very consistent.’ Despite that, he was anxious to make a success of things with Marilyn, and even visited the set of Monkey Business, where he allowed photographs to be taken of the two of them together. Actor Bob Cornthwaite remembered that, ‘Joe DiMaggio would pick her up every night after work and I would run into him coming into the studio while I was leaving, but we never got to speak to each other.’
Within days of meeting DiMaggio, rumours began to surface that Marilyn once posed nude, and the photos were now showing up on calendars all over the country. She had already been warned that their discovery was close, when a man clutching the calendar approached her in the street in early 1952. ‘This ought to be worth quite a bit of money to you. Suppose I showed it around town?’ asked the stranger. Marilyn refused to be blackmailed by the assailant and gritted her teeth: ‘Mister,’ she said, ‘I’d just adore for you to show it around Hollywood – would you like me to also autograph it for you?’
When the studio asked their new star if she had posed nude, she felt no reason to deny it, much to her bosses’ chagrin. There was a huge frenzy, with executives demanding that she lie about it, then changing their minds and deciding she should say nothing at all. But Marilyn felt no reason to deny it and finally an understanding was reached and statement prepared, which allowed Marilyn to put forward her version of events – that she was broke and needed money for her rent. She played the sympathy card and won, with the public not only forgiving the nude scandal, but also loving her more for her honesty and candour. Marilyn was immediately relieved, and once it became apparent that the photos would not negatively affect her career, she actually became quite proud of them. Mayor Johnny Grant, who delivered a copy of the calendar to her, confirms this: ‘She expressed the fact that she had never seen it before and was happy to receive it. She had just gotten out of the shower and the only thing she was wearing was a towel – on her head! When she opened the door, she halfway hid behind it, exposing almost the same scene I had just seen on the calendar.’ Tom Kelley later said that Marilyn was personally responsible for the notoriety of the photos, since she had autographed a great many of the calendars and gave them away as gifts for her friends. However, although she was proud of the photos, in December 1952 Marilyn took action to stop the nude pictures being sold on ashtrays, glasses and cocktail trays, stating, ‘I don’t know exactly what rights I have, but it seems to me I should have some say in the way my own picture is used.’
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.