Marilyn spent Christmas with DiMaggio, who unexpectedly showed up at her hotel room on Christmas Eve with a tree and presents. After that she gave her full attention to the making of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, which had begun shooting earlier that month.
Directed by Howard Hawks and co-starring Jane Russell as Dorothy Shaw, Marilyn played the part of Lorelei Lee, a gold-digging blonde who has snared an innocent millionaire played by George Noonan. Dorothy meanwhile, is a romantic at heart, who falls in love with Ernie Malone, a private detective hired to spy on Lee by her future father-in-law. The film is witty and colourful but the greatest part is the on-screen chemistry between the two stars – Marilyn and Jane.
From the start, the media found great joy in trying to set up a rivalry between the two women, with various rumours of which star was demanding what privilege, and even going so far as to ask Russell if she could start a ‘fight’ and tell the newspapers about it afterwards. The supposed ‘feud’ actually amazed both women, and Russell was quick to defend Marilyn to the media: ‘Marilyn is not a girl you can feud with. She is too busy doing the best job she can before the cameras. Her sincerity is impressive and her willingness to listen to and take advice is one of her outstanding qualities.’
In fact, the two got on so well that Russell actually had a pet name for Marilyn – ‘The Round One’ – while Marilyn defended her co-star when she had to do an imitation of her towards the end of the film: ‘Why should this bother me?’ she asked friends, ‘I know Jane wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me.’ This was backed up by make-up artist, Allan ‘Whitey’ Snyder, who remembered: ‘I know the friendship and support of Jane Russell was special to her. She often commented on what fun it was being with Jane. Jane seemed to understand her.’
Jane Russell was earning $150,000 for her part, while Marilyn was restricted to $750 a week, which she assured reporters was not a problem. What was a dilemma, however, was that she couldn’t get a dressing room. Every time she asked for one, she was told, ‘Remember, you’re not a star,’ which understandably aggravated her a great deal. In the end, she decided to be firm: ‘Look,’ she said, ‘This is Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and I am the blonde. Whatever I am, I am the blonde!’ The executives eventually relented, and she was presented with her very own dressing room, which had once belonged to the other star on the lot – Betty Grable.
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes boasted a variety of musical numbers, including ‘Little Girls from Little Rock’ and ‘When Love Goes Wrong’, but the biggest of them all was ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’, which Marilyn performed with a host of male dancers. One of them was future Oscar-winner George Chakiris, who was very impressed by Marilyn’s dedication to her role: ‘I have the loveliest first impression of Marilyn. She was a darling – sweet, quiet and hardworking, and dedicated above and beyond the call of duty. She cared at a level that went beyond what we usually see.’
Shooting ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ was relatively easy, and Marilyn always arrived on time and thoroughly prepared. Wearing no make-up, she rehearsed the scene as though her life depended on it: ‘She was concentrated and dedicated to her role,’ remembered Chakiris. It took three days to shoot and when they finally reached the end at 9 p.m. on the third day, dance director Jack Cole left almost straightaway in order to travel to New York. ‘He left without saying goodbye and when Marilyn found out he’d gone, she ran off the stage to try and find him and thank him,’ said Chakiris.
Twenty-seven-year-old Gwen Verdon worked as assistant to Jack Cole, and her son, Jim Henaghan Jr, remembers: ‘Marilyn and Jane Russell were the stars but neither one could dance. Both had trouble moving to music and mom was given the job of changing that; in watching the movie one sees that she was more successful with Marilyn. At the time I would go to the studio now and then and always remember mom and Marilyn working very hard to get things just right for every shot.
‘The willingness to work that hard – and it was HARD – was my mom’s life motivation and the reason that she held Marilyn in such esteem. Marilyn had trouble remembering steps and moves from one day to the next, which was an ability not a substance problem, but never gave up or had tantrums or anything else but [always behaved in] a professional manner. All through her life my mom would not sit still for attacks on Marilyn’s lack of will. She was and remained very fond of her. Ms Russell fell into that category also; she worked very hard [but] her problem was she didn’t move in a sexy manner.’
Another person anxious to get the best from Marilyn was vocal coach Hal Schaefer, who had been assigned to help Jack Cole with Russell and Monroe’s musical numbers. Schaefer had worked with the likes of Betty Grable, and as such had a great reputation for work in his field, and Marilyn took to him and respected him immediately. However, Schaefer soon learnt that her dedication to lessons did not extend to punctuality. On the first day of training she showed up late: ‘The first thing I told her,’ remembered Schaefer, ‘was that she better not be late or I wouldn’t teach her, so she showed up on time after that.’ The two got straight down to work with the first lesson consisting of Schaefer telling his student to buy the album Ella Fitzgerald sings George Gershwin. ‘Marilyn had heard of Ella but had never heard her songs. Marilyn had a problem with singing in tune, but everything else she did was wonderful. I told her to listen to this album because never had there been a singer more in tune than Ella.’ This first lesson would lead to a life-long love for Ella’s music, which would eventually spill over to a love for the artist herself.
Ella later praised Marilyn for personally calling Charlie Morrison, owner of the Mocambo nightclub, to ask if Ella could play there. In return Marilyn promised that she would sit in the front row every night, which she did. Unfortunately, in the years since then it has been presumed that the reason Ella Fitzgerald had never previously been allowed to play Mocambo was because she was black. This is not true, as a variety of black entertainers had been booked there long before Ella, including Dorothy Dandridge in 1951 and Eartha Kitt in 1953. The truth is that while Charlie Morrison encouraged and applauded performers of all races in his club, he didn’t see Ella Fitzgerald as being glamorous enough to bring in the crowds. It would take Marilyn to change his mind, and once Ella had her foot in the door she successfully played at the Mocambo on a variety of occasions. ‘[Marilyn] was an unusual woman,’ Ella later remarked. ‘A little ahead of her times and she didn’t know it.’
Although Marilyn didn’t open up to many people on the set of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, she did confide to Hal Schaefer that she believed one day she might be a good actress. Unfortunately, she had no such confidence in her ability to be a good singer, and it was this that Schaefer had to work on above anything else: ‘The essence of singing is confidence because you don’t have any other instrument – no trumpet, violin, etc. I tried to get her to be more confident, as singing is no rocket science; it isn’t such a profound thing. I gave Marilyn help with her confidence and enjoyment of singing – I didn’t want her to feel that she had to prove herself.’
While most people on the set were intent on helping Marilyn, one constant presence caused problems with director Howard Hawks and choreographer Jack Cole. Drama coach Natasha Lytess may have wanted to help Marilyn, but in doing so seemed to cause stress to everyone around her: ‘One day Lytess was on the set,’ remembered George Chakiris. ‘Jack Cole was facing Marilyn, talking to her; but behind him and unknown to him was Lytess. I think Cole must have been giving direction to Marilyn, but there was Lytess, shaking her head to Marilyn, in response to what Cole was saying. Jack had no idea what was going on. I think this showed a real sweetness in Marilyn, as she was being courteous to both Lytess and Cole – she was in the middle of the situation, being polite to both. I thought the way she handled it was very sweet.’
A reporter, on set during a scene where Jane Russell and Marilyn were reading through the ship’s passenger list, remembered watching Lytess looking as though she was ‘quietly having a stroke’, as she reflected every expression and word coming from Marilyn’s direction. The scene was shot three times before Hawks called ‘Cut’ and Lytess hurried over to Marilyn, dragging her away in order to lecture her on her performance.
Elliott Reid played Ernie Malone in the film, and he worked extensively with both Jane Russell and Marilyn. He remembered: ‘I thought she was lovely-looking, beautiful and charming. She was quiet and shy but we didn’t really get to know each other during the shoot because as soon as the scene was finished Marilyn would go to her dressing room to work with her drama coach.’
Once again her lateness became legendary on the set, but by now the other actors and actresses were becoming used to it, as Reid remembered: ‘She was often late – sometimes ten minutes or so, but not extreme; her lateness was well known and it was just how she was. She was charming and everyone understood her lateness and nobody got mad. There were no problems during the making of the film because she was so sweet; she was never aggressive – she just wanted to do her best.’
Jane Russell sympathized with the nerves that caused Marilyn to be late, and made a point of trotting past her dressing room in order to walk her to the set each day. This helped with her punctuality, but not her nerves, and she would visibly shake between scenes, as George Chakiris observed on the first day of shooting the ‘Diamonds’ number: ‘Marilyn was sitting on the round sofa used during the song, and I noticed the muscles in her back quivering from nerves,’ he later recalled.
She may have been terrified but she was absolutely determined to do her best, and took to writing little notes to herself on her script such as ‘Know the lines, go over it intelligently.’ She was anxious to think about what was going on inside, rather than outside, as Chakiris remembered: ‘Marilyn would do the take, and if it was not right, the director would shout “Cut”. She would not go to her dressing room or a mirror; instead she would go back to her starting position and just wait for it all to start again. I never saw her look in a mirror.’
With the filming eventually finished, everyone went back to their normal lives, but the experience left many happy memories, as recalled by George Chakiris: ‘I am so glad that I got to be in the chorus, it was a wonderful thing to be behind Marilyn and Jack Cole. I was there and it was a wonderful, wonderful time. It was a feather in my cap!’
In February 1953 rumours circulated that Niagara was not doing as well at the box office as had been hoped. Meanwhile, Marilyn attended the Photoplay Awards dinner, dressed in the gold gown briefly glimpsed in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. When she got up to receive her award, the audience yelled and shouted, and Jerry Lewis stood on a table to whistle. Marilyn, loving the attention she was receiving, gave it her all, and the result was electrifying; but one person not impressed was actress Joan Crawford, who couldn’t believe her eyes.
A few days later, according to Crawford, columnist Bob Thomas interviewed her and, afterwards, asked, ‘Don’t you think that dress Marilyn Monroe wore at the awards dinner was disgusting?’
Crawford presumed that the question was ‘off the record’ and answered, ‘It was like a burlesque show. Someone should make her see the light; she should be told that the public likes provocative feminine personalities; but it also likes to know that underneath it all the actresses are ladies.’
On 24 February, Marilyn appeared on Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis’s radio show, performing a short skit entitled ‘So Who Needs Friends’, before picking up another award, this time for the Redbook award for Best Young Box Office Personality. She should have been happy, but on 3 March, when Bob Thomas published Crawford’s comments in his column, Marilyn was devastated. She couldn’t understand why Crawford had attacked her in such a way, and was unsure what to do when reporters from around the country kept ringing to ask for her comments.
Louella Parsons spoke to Marilyn and observed that she had been crying all night long, to such an extent that she sounded as though she had a bad cold. ‘I don’t believe Miss Crawford said those things about me,’ Marilyn told Parsons, before deciding that possibly she had been speaking impulsively, without thinking.
Meanwhile, Crawford herself was thoroughly embarrassed by the whole episode. She told Parsons, ‘I wish I could say I didn’t say those things but I did say them! I was not misquoted! But believe me, in the future I will think twice before I talk so openly.’ She started receiving scathing letters from Marilyn’s fans, and through Parsons released a statement apologizing to the actress but projecting her opinion that ‘for this thing to go on and on, as though someone has been murdered, is ridiculous.’
Marilyn too began receiving letters, albeit of a more positive nature than the ones Crawford was getting. GIs were bombarding her with support, and even Betty Grable, her idol and co-star on her next picture, How to Marry a Millionaire, took her to lunch in order to advise her to ‘Just keep on plugging’. Finally, Marilyn decided to draw a line under the whole sordid affair, declaring, ‘I’m beginning to look at it as a blessing in disguise. If it had never been printed, I might never have realized how many friends I have, even ones I have never met.’
Back in the summer of 1952 Marilyn had been concerned to discover that her mother, Gladys Baker, had unexpectedly turned up at Grace Goddard’s home. Unpredictable as usual, Gladys announced that she’d recently married a mysterious man called Colonel John Eley, who had turned out to be a bigamist. She then told Grace that she had started divorce proceedings only for him to die before it was all complete, and then proceeded to move herself and her belongings into the Goddard home.
The entire family were so confused by her half-baked stories that many rumours swirled around for years, with some even believing that the mysterious Mr Eley was actually just a figment of Gladys’ overactive imagination. In truth, however, he most certainly did exist.
Born on 13 June 1889, John Stewart Eley was a retired Colonel in the Signal Corps and had lived in Los Angeles for six years before his death on 23 April 1952. Despite Gladys turning up at the Knebelkamp home to declare her intention to live with Eley in a tent, in reality they actually lived together at 10538 Santa Monica Boulevard. Eley had most certainly been married before though no records can be found to support Gladys’ claim that he was a bigamist. Indeed, when his obituary was printed in the 26 April edition of the Los Angeles Times, there were only two relatives mentioned: his sister Helen and his widow Gladys.
Whilst living with Grace Goddard, Gladys’ behaviour became so erratic that Grace started to note down the disturbing things she was saying. According to her notes, Gladys felt that she was now ‘confused’ because she had once taken an aspirin during her marriage to Eley; felt she was being punished because during prohibition she had taken a drink of liquor; kept a photo of Marilyn in her bedroom, but slept at the foot of her bed so she didn’t have to look at it; and had a fear of Catholics, thinking that they were out to harm her.
Grace had suffered from depression for many years, and soon became exhausted with her new lodger, particularly when Gladys started to accuse her of stealing or moving items that she herself had misplaced. Grace suffered a stroke, and Gladys ended up moving in with the Bolender family, who had looked after Norma Jeane all those years before. Mrs Bolender, who had never seen any of Marilyn’s movies, later recalled: ‘I talked to Norma Jeane on the phone when her mother was staying with me. On the phone I said, “Norma Jeane why don’t you come to see me?” She said, “I always thought because I’m in the movies you might not like me anymore.” I said, “Because you’re in the movies don’t make any difference, you come to see me,” but she didn’t.’
Eventually Gladys took off to Florida in search of her daughter, Berniece, but was soon back in California, banging on the door of Grace and Doc Goddard in such a frenzy that the police were called. Gladys was admitted to the Metropolitan State Hospital and Grace was left with the unenviable task of travelling to 2713 Honolulu Ave, Los Angeles, to make arrangements for her to be placed permanently in Rockhaven Sanitarium.
Rockhaven was established in 1923 by a nurse called Agnes Richards, who wanted to improve the treatment of mentally ill women. Set in 3.5 acres of gardens, the establishment grew to include fourteen different buildings and housed around a hundred patients – or residents as the staff liked to call them.
On 9 February 1953, Gladys became a resident there, and on 1 March Marilyn sent a cheque to Grace for $851.04 to cover her mother’s expenses. It was to be the first of many cheques written to pay for her mother’s care, though Marilyn herself would have very little to do with Gladys’ day-to-day life at the institution.
There has been a great deal of mystery regarding Gladys’ time at Rockhaven, with stories becoming wilder and more exaggerated as time goes on. However, in 2010 biographer Lois Banner interviewed Agnes Richards’ granddaughter Pat Traviss about life at Rockhaven and found that Gladys’ time there was not the horror story one has been led to believe. Pat worked at the institution herself, and became the administrator after her grandmother had retired. According to Banner, Traviss relayed to her that contrary to what previous biographers have reported, Marilyn absolutely never visited her mother. In fact Agnes remembered only one telephone call from the star, in which she asked Gladys if there was anything she could buy for her. The answer? A bar of ivory soap.
Gladys’ life at Rockhaven was a relatively solitary one. She was quiet, kept herself to herself and never talked about intimate or private matters with anyone – especially the medical staff. In fact, she especially disliked anyone who was considered a ‘nurse’ and it was only because Traviss wasn’t in the medical profession that she was able to become friendly with Gladys. The two would often go out for ice cream and at one point Gladys even knitted socks for a member of Traviss’ family.
Traviss disputed recent stories that Gladys Baker could hear voices in her head. She told Lois Banner that Gladys believed there was nothing wrong with her and would never have said she was hearing voices. ‘She didn’t really think she was ill,’ recalled Traviss. This would tie in with a letter Grace once wrote to a friend back in the 1930s, when Gladys was first admitted to a mental institution. In it she explained that Gladys didn’t know she was ill and even thought she would soon return to work. That she believed herself to be absolutely sane is also confirmed in a remark Gladys made to Grace that she believed she had only been sent to the institution because she was working as a nurse there. At no time did Gladys believe herself to be ill and, if there were voices in her head, she would never have dreamed of making them public.
There has been talk of many traumatic events while Gladys was confined, including staff selling their stories, but actually it seems that nobody ever gave any information for money, even when offered a large amount. There was one incident, however, that did stand out in Traviss’ mind, as she remembered: ‘I left Gladys alone in my office and I came back to find my furniture overturned and there was red ink spilled. I never left her alone again.’
Keeping thoughts of her mother to a minimum, on 18 March 1953 Marilyn moved into a three-roomed apartment at 882 North Doheny Drive, which Jane Russell and interior designer Thomas Lane helped her to decorate. The comfortable home was furnished with thick carpets, white and beige furnishings, and, of course, her book collection. She also collected her black piano from storage, painted it white and installed it in the home, where she was to stay for almost all of 1953.
A new friend came into Marilyn’s life at this time, when she met actor and author John Gilmore during a party at neighbour John Hodiak’s house. Gilmore and Marilyn had much in common and spoke easily with each other. He remembered: ‘Marilyn told me she’d dreamed of waltzing through movies as another Jean Harlow. Even then she didn’t know she’d someday eclipse Harlow and emerge from a kind of imposed, personal cocoon as the most beautiful and important movie star in the world.
‘Marilyn was shadowed and strange; diffident yet vivacious, determined while fearful. She was intense and funny at the same time, and was very, very far from being “dumb”. I remember my conversation with her verbatim; how she looked, what she wore and how she smelled; what her hand felt like and how the aroma of her lingered on my hand after shaking hers. From that time on, Marilyn and I ran separately in and out and backwards and forwards through the Hollywood milieu ad nauseam, her career skyrocketing. We caught up again, encountering the same people, the same spots on the Strip; Mocambo, Ciros, etc.’
Marilyn’s next film was a comedy entitled How to Marry a Millionaire, in which she played opposite Betty Grable and Lauren Bacall. The filming followed an altogether familiar pattern: the press tried to create a feud between the stars (they failed); Natasha’s direction caused friction on the set; and Marilyn was continuously late, leading love interest David Wayne to describe the experience as, ‘One of the worst times I’ve ever had in my life.’
While Lauren Bacall could hardly disguise her impatience and irritation with the fledgling star, idol Betty Grable could not have been more patient and understanding. Knowing that Twentieth Century Fox expected her to resent Marilyn’s new popularity, Grable went out of her way to give advice and help her successor. She encouraged her ambitions and the two became firm friends, especially when Grable commented, ‘Honey I’ve had mine; go get yours,’ to the excited young star. The two got along famously and Grable always remembered her time on the set with particular fondness.
Another person who was happy to be there was a young man called Jim Gough, whose father worked at the studio, giving him the opportunity to meet Marilyn and Betty: ‘Meeting these two fabulous women was a teenager’s dream come true and it changed my life. Marilyn and Betty were not only beautiful, but also very kind and down to earth – without an ounce of pretension. One day, they invited me to have lunch in the “Commissary”. They were both made up and were in costume with dressing gowns over their costumes to protect them. My entrance into the restaurant, between these two women, was the answer to a young man’s prayers! During the meal, we chatted about school matters, friendships, and, most of all, about pets. Marilyn loved dogs especially. After the filming of How to Marry a Millionaire, I occasionally met Marilyn, who always seemed to remember me.’
The beginning of April 1953 was a busy time for Marilyn. On 7 April she attended a birthday party with Betty Grable in honour of columnist Walter Winchell, and then she signed a new agency contract, this time with the Famous Artists Agency. But by 14 April she was in hospital being treated for her ongoing endometriosis problem, which unfortunately would never be resolved.
Coming out of hospital, Marilyn rested at home on Doheny Drive, reading her books and talking to friends. Grace Goddard was still a big part of her life, especially now that Gladys had been re-institutionalized, and the two would speak on the telephone every day. ‘It used to drive me crazy!’ remembered Bebe Goddard. ‘It’s because she confided every minute of her night and day to Grace. Totally. Everything. And Grace would sympathize and advise, and believe me, Marilyn never took her for granted.’
However, although Grace was more than happy to listen to Marilyn’s problems, she had many of her own, including a dependency on alcohol and a heart problem, for which she was taking phenobarbital. In May Marilyn invited her to rest at the Doheny Drive apartment and the two enjoyed many hours in each other’s company.
Tragedy soon struck Marilyn’s life while she and Joe were away for a short break. He received news that his brother, Mike, had been killed in a fishing accident off the coast of Bodega Bay. A devastated DiMaggio went straight to San Francisco, while Marilyn returned to Los Angeles and spent her birthday quietly with Grace, Bebe and Bebe’s brother Fritz. She then travelled up to San Francisco to be with DiMaggio and his family during the mourning period and offering her support to the devastated Joe. She made a good impression on his entire family, and it was during this period that DiMaggio realized how much he was in love with her, while Marilyn confessed to friends that she knew at that time that she really did want to marry him.
On 26 June Marilyn received the recognition she had craved since a child, when she placed her hands and feet into the wet cement outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. Together with Jane Russell, she stood in the very spot where she had admired the prints as a child. She later remembered: ‘I did have a funny feeling when I finally put my foot down into that wet cement. I sure knew what it really meant to me – anything’s possible, almost.’ Two days later, she walked to the theatre in the middle of the night to see how her footprints really looked. ‘It was like hearing all the applause in the world,’ friend Sidney Skolsky later observed.
By this time Marilyn was involved in the production of River of No Return, a lightweight Western which she was not impressed by, but agreed to do because she liked the songs. In it she was to play the part of a saloon singer, opposite Robert Mitchum, an old workmate of first husband, James Dougherty. She liked Mitchum a lot and the two immediately gelled, as she cheerfully told reporters, ‘It’s nice when you hit the ball and somebody hits it back.’
From the beginning, Marilyn got along very well with producer Stanley Rubin, whom she had unsuccessfully auditioned for all those years ago, but the two had a common enemy in director Otto Preminger, who was known to be something of a bully. Rubin remembered: ‘The problems between Otto and I began when I told him he wasn’t my choice for director – he was the studio’s choice. Otto didn’t take kindly to that. Otto had something in him that made him capable of bullying, and he bullied Marilyn, but never Bob Mitchum because he knew he wouldn’t get away with it.’
In fairness to Preminger, while he was a tough director, he did have a reason to be upset with Marilyn, in the shape of none other than Natasha Lytess, who once again accompanied the star on to the set. ‘When the take was finished,’ remembered Rubin, ‘Marilyn looked past Otto to Natasha, who was standing a few feet behind the director. It was not a good arrangement – Otto was a very proud man and didn’t like Natasha being on set. The problem went all the way to the Head of the Studio – Darryl F. Zanuck – and for a while Natasha was banned from the set, but then Marilyn went to Zanuck herself and Natasha came back.’
When the cast and crew travelled to Canada for location shots the problems were intensified whilst shooting scenes on a raft. On one occasion both Marilyn and Robert Mitchum almost hit rocks and had to be saved by a rescue boat, and on another Marilyn slipped and fell into the water, as remembered by make-up artist Allan ‘Whitey’ Snyder: ‘We had a raft tied to the shore and Marilyn and Robert Mitchum were supposed to push it off. The river bed had a rocky bottom, and when she took two or three steps, she twisted her ankle and fell down.’
From then on Marilyn was to be seen around the set with a bandaged foot and crutches, but all the same, some people have disputed the sprained ankle story, stating that Marilyn did it in order to take her revenge on ‘bully’ Preminger. Producer Stanley Rubin thinks otherwise: ‘I believe she did sprain her ankle badly. She had to hobble around and they shot around her for a few days and also shot scenes where she didn’t have to move. I find it very hard to believe it was fake. She did trip on the raft – either getting on or getting off – she did fall.’
The sprained ankle did give Marilyn a few perks, one of which was the arrival of Joe DiMaggio, who hurried to the location as soon as he heard the news. The other was some time off, which she spent relaxing beside the hotel pool.
Marilyn spent much of the summer of 1953 taking photographs with New York photographer Milton Greene, and then on 13 September she made her television debut on the Jack Benny Program, and was presented with a new car in lieu of payment. She was so proud of her new vehicle that she drove it up to show Uncle Sam and Aunt Enid. The Knebelkamps’ son-in-law, Forrest Olmstead remembers Marilyn’s relationship with the family, and her ability to leave her movie star image behind: ‘A new room had been added to the house and I was putting up button board for plaster on the wall; Marilyn would hand me the board so I could attach it to the wall. Then another time I was working on a new cess pool and she would hand me down bricks . . . She was the only woman there that wanted to help.’
She also went to great lengths in order to spoil her foster family, buying gifts and holding parties during special celebrations: ‘[Diane and I] bought a house in Long Beach,’ recalls Forrest, ‘and Cousin Pat and her husband Ben also bought a house. Marilyn gave both of us a house warming in Pat and Ben’s back yard. She came down in a limousine with her chauffeur and gave us both a gift; we had a whole tub of beer and got the chauffeur a little drunk.’
Unfortunately her relationship with the Knebelkamp/Goddard family changed when Grace Goddard was rushed to hospital with breathing difficulties, and passed away on 28 September 1953. ‘I was horribly sad and devastated,’ Grace’s stepdaughter Bebe remembered. ‘And Marilyn was 50,000 times as much.’
It has been rumoured over the years that Grace was suffering from cancer at the time of her death. This may be so, but the death certificate states that her death was suicide caused by barbiturate poisoning, due to the ingestion of phenobarbital. ‘She did have a whole box of pills like nothing you’ve ever seen before. And in those days they were much easier to get,’ remembered Bebe. Whether or not Marilyn knew the exact cause of death is unclear, but if she did it must have been extremely upsetting; for her whole life Marilyn had dealt with her mother’s emotional problems, and now to discover that Grace had taken her own life must have been truly disturbing.
‘I believe that Marilyn loved Grace more than anybody in the world,’ Bebe Goddard recalled. ‘Grace had been a second mother from the time she was born, and had been such a fair person, and as much a mother, or more so, than Gladys had been. Grace was the single most constant factor throughout Marilyn’s life.’
Many people have said that Marilyn refused to attend Grace’s funeral, but this is simply not true: ‘She absolutely was at Grace’s funeral,’ Bebe Goddard later told the ‘All About Marilyn’ fan club. This is also confirmed by Will Sykes, who was married to Aunt Ana’s niece, Sybil Louise Howland. ‘Marion said she met you at Grace’s funeral. How is Doc getting along?’ he asked in a letter to Marilyn in October 1954.
The funeral was a quiet, family affair and afterwards Marilyn travelled to Aunt Enid and Uncle Sam’s house, where she sat solemnly with the other family members. Diane Knebelkamp’s husband, Forrest, remembers: ‘I was sitting in Diane’s old room which had been turned into a den, when Marilyn walked in and sat down. She didn’t say much because she was so upset.’
After recovering sufficiently from the passing of Aunt Grace, Marilyn attended the premiere of How to Marry a Millionaire on 4 November 1953, and shortly after underwent more gynaecological surgery. Having spent a huge amount of time working in 1953, she was quite literally exhausted, as she told reporter Rita Garrison Malloy: ‘I’m so tired. I’ve been working seven days a week at the studio. My doctor Elliot Corday says I’m anaemic.’ Doctor Corday prescribed an iron-rich diet that consisted of raw eggs, raw ground liver (which she spiked with lime and Worcestershire sauce to mask the taste), gelatine, orange juice, rare steak and spinach, along with iron and vitamin shots. Unfortunately nothing seemed to help and Marilyn still felt absolutely awful.
When Fox announced that she was to star in The Girl in Pink Tights, Marilyn agreed to do it only if she could see the script first. In the twenty-first century, that would be an understandable request, but in the 1950s, when actors were just cogs in the machine, it was unheard of. Zanuck rejected her request and she found herself in the unenviable position of being threatened with suspension from the studio. She dug her heels in further on discovering that while she was going to be paid her by now usual $1,500 a week, her co-star, Frank Sinatra, would be paid $5,000. She stood firm and when an executive told her, ‘I’ve been in this business a long time and I know what’s good for you,’ she retorted, ‘I’ve been in this business a very short time but I know better what’s good for me than you do.’
‘They throw me from one picture into another,’ she complained in December. ‘I don’t travel, see things, meet people and know them under normal circumstances . . . Directors think all I have to do is wiggle a little, not act.’
When Marilyn did not show up for filming on 15 December, the studio was incensed and sent various executives and staff members (including Lytess) to her Doheny Drive home; there they were met by a furious DiMaggio, who ordered each one away from the door. Although he did not like to get involved with Marilyn’s career matters, he was adamant that she would not be taken advantage of again, noting that as she made millions for the studio, she surely had a right to share some of it.
Finally, after fighting off illness, studio executives, Lytess and countless reporters, Marilyn packed her things and on 23 December she flew to San Francisco for privacy and rest in the DiMaggio family home at 2150 Beach Street.