THE DEATH OF VIRGINIA RAPPE

The Long Fall of Fatty Arbuckle

On September 9, 1921, the death of a young movie actress named Virginia Rappe would make newspaper headlines around the world. The scandal that followed her death had nothing to do with the fame, or lack of it, of the pretty actress – it was her link to the man who was known as “America’s Funnyman,” Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle. Virginia’s death destroyed the career of the man who was then America’s best-known comedic actor and created one of Hollywood’s first lingering ghosts.

Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle

Fatty Arbuckle was among the first celebrities to be swallowed by the bright lights of Hollywood. There are few actors who have crashed and burned in the way that Arbuckle did. The rotund comedian, nicknamed “Fatty” by his fans because of his 300-pound girth, achieved his original success in the 1910s. He was more popular than even Charlie Chaplin and at the time of his downfall in 1921, he was earning over $1 million a year. But it all came to a crashing halt because of a scandal. Arbuckle had it worse than most. It was bad enough to fall from grace because of one’s mistakes and the scandal that might follow, but it was another thing entirely to be used by an ambitious district attorney for his own political gains, and to be savaged by the Hearst newspapers, which sensationalized Fatty’s plight and made a bundle in circulation sales. Making things even worse, Arbuckle’s own studio led the behind-the-scenes intrigue that sabotaged his career, some say as revenge against a star who had become too big to control.

Roscoe Arbuckle was born (weighing in at a whopping 16 pounds) on a small farm in Smith Center, Kansas, on March 24, 1887. The following year, his family relocated to Santa Ana, California, and opened a small hotel. In the summer of 1895, Roscoe made his stage debut with a traveling theater troupe. The shy and overweight youngster immediately felt at home on the spotlight. Four years later, his mother died and the boy was sent to live with his father, who was then residing in Watsonville, California. When his father vanished a short time later, a local hotel owner took Roscoe in. When not working at odd jobs, he was tutored by a teacher who lived in the hotel. However, he preferred appearing on amateur night at the town’s vaudeville theater to reading and writing. In 1902, he was reunited with his remarried father in Santa Clara and helped out the family by waiting tables in his father’s restaurant.

Roscoe got into show business a few years later, working in vaudeville and burlesque shows in California and the Pacific Northwest. During a 1908 summer stock engagement in Long Beach, California, he met a singer and dancer named Armanta “Minta” Durfee. The two of them were married and toured the Southern California vaudeville circuit. At some point, Arbuckle decided to try his luck in the fledgling movie industry.  

Legend had it that Arbuckle was an overweight plumber when Mack Sennett discovered him. The story goes that he had come to unclog the film producer’s drain, but Sennett had other plans for him. He took one look at Roscoe’s hefty frame and offered him a job. It never happened this way – but it made a great story. Arbuckle’s large frame and bouncing agility made him the perfect target for Sennett’s brand of film comedy, which included mayhem, pratfalls, and pies in the face. He became a member of Mack Sennett’s Keystone Film Company in April 1913. He was soon making dozens of two-reelers as a film buffoon and audiences loved him. He made one film after another, all of them wildly successful, and managed to earn a fortune.

In the summer of 1916, Arbuckle joined the East Coast-based Comique Film Corporation as a star and director with an annual income of more than $1 million. The following March, he attended a banquet in Boston hosted by his studio for regional theater exhibitors and this became Fatty’s first brush with scandal. After the dinner, Arbuckle retired to his hotel room, however, company executives (including founder Adolph Zukor) and others continued partying at Brownie Kennedy’s Roadhouse, a tavern and brothel in nearby Woburn, Massachsetts. Almost immediately, news circulated in Boston about the orgy, and the gossip claimed that Arbuckle had been present. In fact, some stories had him dancing on tables with prostitutes in the roadhouse’s backroom. Because of the publicity, the city’s mayor raided the brothel. After paying a fine, the madam was released. However, the stories about what went on that night were too racy to simply fade away. Zukor was informed that unless money changed hands, the bawdy activities were sure to make national news. Zukor paid $100,00 to keep the matter quiet and in the process, did nothing to clarify that Arbuckle had not been present that night.

By October 1917, Arbuckle (along with most of the rest of the movie industry) was back in Hollywood. By now, his marriage to Minta had fallen apart and she remained in New York to pursue her acting career. Although separated, their divorce was not finalized until 1925.

   

With 1920’s “The Round Up,” Arbuckle began making full-length movies. In January 1921, he signed a lucrative new contract with Paramount Pictures, which led to Adolph Zukor pushing him into an exhausting schedule that ended with him filming three movies at the same time in the summer of 1921. By Labor Day weekend, Fatty was worn out and planned to go to San Francisco to relax over the holiday. Zukor asked him to remain in town to take part in an exhibitors’ convention that weekend and when Roscoe refused, Zukor was enraged. Arbuckle didn’t let this bother him and he went on the trip anyway.

Fatty was joined on his trip up the coast by actor friend Lowell Sherman. Then, director Fred Fischbach, whom Arbuckle had known for years, invited himself along. The three men set out on early Saturday morning, September 3, and arrived in San Francisco later that evening. Fatty was driving his flashy new Pierce-Arrow automobile and took his friends to the luxurious St. Francis Hotel. Fatty took three adjoining suites on the 12th floor.

On Sunday, the trio did some sightseeing and visited friends and on Monday, Labor Day, the party got under way. Fischbach got in touch with a bootlegger connection and soon, the guests and the liquor began to arrive. Among the guests was Fred’s friend, film talent manager Al Semnacher, who was in San Francisco for the weekend, trying to concoct evidence for his pending divorce. He had brought along Bambina Maude Delmont, a woman with an extensive police record involving blackmail, prostitution, and swindling, to help him out. A friend of Bambina’s also came along -- a little-known actress named Virginia Rappe.

Virginia Rappe

Virginia came to Hollywood in 1919. She was a lovely brunette whose unfortunate reputation preceded her. It was no secret in Hollywood that she was a girl with “loose morals,” which was saying a lot for the film colony in those days. Rumor had it that she had already had several abortions by the time that she was 16, before giving birth to a child that that she had given away. She caught the eye of Mack Sennett and wrangled some movie roles on the Keystone lot, where she met Arbuckle. It was also rumored that Virginia had worked her way through the cast and crew of the company and at one point, she passed around a rather sensitive infestation of body lice that was so severe that Sennett had to close the studio and have it fumigated. In spite of her drunken escapades and reports of unprovoked nudity, she did earn some film roles, including “Fantasy,” “Paradise Garden,” and “Joey Loses a Sweetheart,” in which she appeared with Arbuckle. Virginia was noticed by William Fox, shortly after winning an award for the “Best-Dressed Girl in Pictures,” and he took her under contract. There was talk of her starring in a new Fox feature and Virginia certainly seemed to be on her way up.

In 1920, Virginia began dating director Jack White. When he left Hollywood for New York, she was left with an unwanted pregnancy to deal with. Her manager, Al Semnacher, suggested that she have an abortion in San Francisco, where there was less chance of the Hollywood gossips finding out about it. Since she was going up north and Semnacher had plans with Bambina Delmont that weekend, he arranged for her to drive there with him on September 3.

Salesman Ira Fortlois arrived at Roscoe’s suite at noon on Monday to find the party already in full swing. Arbuckle was reportedly not happy to discover that Fred Fischbach had invited Semnacher, Delmont, and Rappe to the party, thanks to their questionable reputations, but he was enjoying himself too much to press the issue. At one point during the party, Fischbach suddenly left, claiming that he had business elsewhere. The crowd grew to a couple of dozen people. The young women were downing gin-laced Orange Blossoms, some of the guests had shed their tops to do the "shimmy," guests were vanishing into the back bedrooms for sweaty love sessions, and the empty bottles of booze were piling up.

Meanwhile, Delmont, who was well-liquored, disappeared into Lowell Sherman’s suite with him and locked the door. Virginia, roaring drunk, began tearing off her clothes and screaming hysterically. Because Delmont and Sherman were locked in room 1221, and room 1220 had no bathroom, Virginia was rushed into room 1219, Fatty’s suite, to use the facilities there. Soon, unaware of what was happening, Roscoe tried to enter his bathroom, only to find Virginia vomiting into the toilet. He helped her up and convinced her to lie down and rest on his bed. Next, he went in search of some ice. He hoped that the ice would quiet the woman down as well as determine, by holding a piece of ice against her thigh to see if she reacted to the chill, whether she was suffering from hysterics.

By now, Fischbach had returned. As Roscoe applied the ice to the wailing woman’s leg, Maude Delmont walked into the room. Rappe yelled that she was dying – words heard by several other female party guests. Next, the bathtub in room 1219 was filled with cold water to cool off the distraught young woman. But Virginia suddenly awoke and began screaming at Arbuckle. “Stay away from me!” she cried and then turned to Delmont, “What did he do to me, Maudie?” Virginia was bodily placed in the cold water tub and she seemed to settle down. A short time later, she was taken to another room down the hall where Delmont could take care of her. The hotel doctor was summoned to the room a little while later, but he determined that Virginia was merely drunk.

The party continued, with Arbuckle leaving the hotel for a time to arrange to have his car shipped back to Los Angeles. He planned to return by boat. By the time Fatty returned, another doctor was administering morphine to Virginia. When the physician asked Delmont what had transpired, she calculatedly created a fabricated tale that she later told the police – but never swore to in court.

According to her version of events, Fatty, wearing only pajamas and a bathrobe, had steered a drunken Virginia into his suite at around 3:00 p.m. on Monday afternoon. Delmont stated that the festivities in the adjoining suites came to a halt when screams were heard in the bedroom. She also said that weird moans were heard from behind the door. A short time later, Fatty emerged with ripped pajamas and he told the girls, "Go in and get her dressed. She makes too much noise." When Virginia continued to scream, he yelled for her to shut up, or "I’ll throw you out the window." Delmont and another showgirl, Alice Blake, found Virginia nearly nude and lying on the unmade bed. She was moaning and told them that she was dying. Bambina later reported that they tried to dress her, but found that all of her clothing, including her stockings and undergarments were so ripped and torn, "that one could hardly recognize what garments they were."

Arbuckle knew nothing of the story that Delmont was spreading and on Tuesday, September 6, he checked out of the St. Francis, generously covering everyone’s expenses. By now, Virginia, at Delmont’s direction, was being treated by another doctor, this one associated with the private Wakefield Sanitarium. Having been assured that Virginia was in no danger, Arbuckle and his friends returned by ferry to Los Angeles.

On September 8, the still-stricken Virginia was transferred from the hotel to the Wakefield Sanitarium, where she died the next afternoon. An illegal postmortem exam was conducted on her body and her ruptured bladder and other organs were placed in specimen jars, which would prevent a proper autopsy by the legal authorities. Convinced that she could turn the entire incident into something she could profit from, Delmont swore out a complaint against Arbuckle with the police. Back in Hollywood, Roscoe’s new film, “Gasoline Gus,” had just opened successfully and at the same time, he learned of Virginia’s death. Shocked, he volunteered to return to San Francisco. Paramount, meanwhile, panicked at the possible repercussions of the weekend, hired attorneys to represent their high-priced star.

From the start, the newspapers were filled with lurid headlines (“Fatty Arbuckle Sought in Orgy Death”) and graphic, false details supplied by Delmont. Newspapers around the country were revealing shocking “truths” about the alleged events in the death of the virtuous Virginia Rappe at the hands of the lust-crazed Fatty Arbuckle. Everything from Arbuckle’s past was raked up, including the false story that he had been party of the 1917 orgy in Massachusetts and new stories claimed that he had killed Virginia because she had rebuffed his advances. They also claimed that he had killed her because his immense weight pressed down on her too hard during sex. And it was no longer just sex, the newspapers told a nation of stunned fans, but "strange and unnatural sex." According to reports, Arbuckle became enraged over the fact that his drunkenness had led to impotence, so he ravaged Virginia with everything from a Coca-Cola Bottle, to a champagne bottle, to an over-sized piece of ice. Other stories claimed that Fatty was so well-endowed that he had injured the girl, while others stated that the injury had come when Fatty had landed on the slight actress during a sexual frolic.

Soon, churches and women’s groups were crusading against the “lustful” Arbuckle. In Hartford, Connecticut., a group of angry women ripped down a screen in a theater showing an Arbuckle comedy, while in Wyoming, a group of men opened fire in a movie house where another Arbuckle short was being shown. Thanks to the newspapers, Arbuckle had been found guilty in the public’s eyes before charges have ever been filed against him. Angry, and increasingly boisterous, voices were calling for Hollywood to clean up its act. Finally, Arbuckle’s films were pulled from general release. Arbuckle had been placed on suspension by Paramount, invoking the morals clause in his contract.

    

San Francisco District Attorney Matthew Brady hoped the Arbuckle case would be his ticket to the governor’s office. The coroner’s inquest met on September 12 with Brady demanding that Arbuckle be charged with murder. By then, he knew that most of what had been printed in the newspapers were lies but since his vow to prosecute the movie star to the fullest extent of the law had already been featured in the press, he proceeded with the case. Over the next few days, with Arbuckle jailed without bail, a special grand jury voted to indict the actor on a manslaughter charge. It was their belief, based on the evidence, that Arbuckle had used “some force” that led to Virginia’s death. On September 28, a judge ruled that the defendant could be charged with manslaughter, but the rape charge was dismissed. Arbuckle was released on his own recognizance and returned to Los Angeles. He was accompanied by his estranged wife, Minta, who had arrived to offer moral support.

The trial began on November 14, 1921, with Roscoe taking the stand and denying any wrongdoing. The defense introduced evidence of Virginia’s past medical problems (including chronic cystitis) and her recurrent bouts of abdominal pain that often led to her yanking off her clothing. The key witness, Maude Delmont, never took the stand to continue her fanciful claims against Arbuckle – something that the defense pointed out several times to the jury. After much conflicting testimony, the jury remained deadlocked after 43 hours of deliberation. One juror was adamant that Fatty was guilty “until hell freezes over.” The judge declared a mistrial.

Unwilling to give up, D.A. Brady pushed for another trial. One of the tactical errors this time around was made by the defense. Overly confident that Arbuckle would be acquitted, they did not have him testify again and simply read his prior testimony into the record. This made Arbuckle look cold and uncaring about the young woman’s death and made the wrong impression on the jury. In addition, his attorney, assured of victory, never bothered to make a closing statement. After many more hours of deliberating, the jury was deadlocked again, although this time they had almost voted in favor of conviction. Fatty had not been convicted, but he was paying for his “crime.” He had been forced to sell his home in Los Angeles, along with his luxury automobiles, to pay lawyer’s fees that the studio was no longer footing the bill for.

Unbelievably, Brady took Arbuckle to trial a third time. This time, Fatty took the stand and patiently answered questions about the fateful party for three hours. The defense introduced evidence about Virginia’s questionable past, the prosecution’s intimidation of witnesses, as well as the fact that the prosecution still had never produced Maude Delmont to testify. This time, the jury adjourned for only five minutes and returned with a vote of acquittal and a written apology:

"Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel a grave injustice has been done him and there was not the slightest proof to connect him in any way with the commission of any crime. We wish him success, and hope that the American people will take the judgment of fourteen men and women that Roscoe Arbuckle is entirely innocent and free of all blame.”

Fatty may have been free, and cleared by a well-meaning jury, but he was hardly forgiven by Hollywood. Paramount canceled his $3 million contract and his unreleased films were scrapped, costing the studio over $1 million. Fatty’s career was finished after he was banned from the movies by Will Hays and his Hollywood Production Code. Hays wanted to show that he meant business when it came to cleaning up the movies and decided to make Arbuckle an example. Strangely, Hays acted at the urging of Adolph Zukor and Paramount Pictures. Years later, it was also discovered that Zukor had made a mysterious payment to D.A. Matthew Brady on November 14, 1921. It was assumed to be a possible bribe to control the case’s outcome – although not in Arbuckle’s favor. Some have also theorized that Zukor, eager to regain control over Arbuckle, had masterminded the St. Francis Hotel party through Fred Fischbach (who mysteriously vanished for a time), but that the situation, which was simply to make Arbuckle look bad, got wildly out of control.

By Christmas, Hays had rescinded his ban on Arbuckle in Hollywood productions, but civic groups and the press remained opposed to his return to film. Because of this, the studios just couldn’t afford to have his name connected to their pictures. Only a few friends, like Buster Keaton, remained by his side. In fact, it was Keaton who suggested that Arbuckle change his name to "Will B. Good." Actually, Arbuckle did adopt the name William Goodrich in later years and he was able to gain employment as a gag man and as a comedy director. Friends helped him as best they could, but the next few years were difficult ones. He tried stage and vaudeville work and opened a club and a hotel, which closed down during the Depression. He married and divorced a second time, and then found happiness with his third wife, actress Addie McPhail. In 1931, Roscoe appeared in a fan magazine article, begging to be allowed to return to the screen. Hal Roach offered him a contract, but pressure from several women’s groups caused the deal to fall through.

After again turning to vaudeville, Arbuckle was given a contract by New York’s Vitaphone Studios head, Sam Sax, to star in a 1932 film short. The “comeback” Vitaphone two-reeler was so successful that Sax gave Fatty a contract to make five more, in preparation for a feature film with Warner Brothers. Unfortunately, Arbuckle died on the night following the completion of his last Vitaphone short “Tomalio” on June 29, 1934.

Even in death, Fatty Arbuckle could not find peace. The slanderous stories about him still exist today and despite evidence presented to the contrary, he continues to be perceived as the “lustful rapist” portrayed in newspapers of the day.

At the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, a lonely stone marks the grave of Virginia Rappe and the site is said to be home to her ghost. Little explanation needs to be offered as to why Virginia’s spirit might be a restless one. She lost not only her life over the course of the Labor Day Weekend of 1921, but she lost a promising career and her tattered reputation, as well. Was it a fate that she brought on herself? Perhaps, but the press was nearly as savage to the sickly and misguided young actress as it was to Fatty Arbuckle. 

While most newspapers painted Virginia as an “innocent” victim of Arbuckle’s lust-crazed advances, the Hearst newspapers were especially cruel to the actress and managed to turn the affair into a national scandal. While Heart’s papers were always known for their yellow journalism and lurid headlines, the Arbuckle case received even more coverage than normal. As it happened, Heart’s affair with a starlet named Marion Davies became big news at the same time that details began to emerge about Fatty Arbuckle and Virginia Rappe. Marion Davies’ career began to suffer and rumor had it that Hearst gave the go-ahead to his papers to exploit every Hollywood scandal of the time, including Fatty’s, to take the focus off of himself and Davies. This made the unlucky Virginia Rappe an easy target.

For this reason, it’s not surprising to hear reports that her spirit still lingers behind. Visitors who come to Hollywood Forever Cemetery have reported hearing a ghostly voice that weeps and cries out near Virginia’s simple grave. It is believed by many to be her ghost, still attached to this world, and still in anguish over her promising career, which was, like her life, cut short before it could really begin.

DEATH OF THE "ICE CREAM BLONDE"

The Mysterious Tragedy of Thelma Todd

The ghost of Thelma Todd still walks in Hollywood, or at least that’s what the owners of a building on the Pacific Coast Highway have claimed for years. It was in this building where Todd’s "Roadside Rest Cafe" was once located and it’s not far from the house where she met her mysterious end. This is a house where the ghostly elements of her demise are still repeated today. But what strange events have caused this glamorous ghost to linger behind in our world? The official cause of Thelma’s death was said to be an accidental poisoning from carbon monoxide, but the true facts in this sensational case remain unresolved to this day.

Perhaps this is why Thelma still lingers, looking for someone to uncover what really happened on the night of December 16, 1935. 

Thelma Todd

Thelma Todd was born on July 29, 1905 in Lawrence, Massachusetts, and was the first of two children of John and Alice Todd. Thelma’s father was a former police officer who had entered politics and had little time for his family. Because of this, her frustrated mother channeled all of her energy into Thelma and her younger brother, William. By the time Thelma was 10, her father had become the director of public health and welfare for the state of Massachusetts, a position that kept him away from home even more. Thelma was an exceptional student and did very well in school. She had also turned into a very pretty young woman. In 1932, she enrolled at the Lowell State Normal School, intent on become a teacher. In 1925, her brother was killed in an accident and engulfed by this family tragedy, Thelma began dreaming of moving away and making a life away from her oppressive home.

Fate intervened when a local boy submitted her high school picture into a statewide beauty contest and she won. This led to a talent scout from Famous Players-Lasky (later Paramount) inviting Thelma to screen test for the studio’s first film school. She passed the audition and became one of the 16 attendees, on the condition that she lose 10 pounds before arriving at the facility in Astoria, New York.

During her training, Thelma fell in love with a classmate, Robert Andrews, but the studio nipped the romance in the bud, fearing gossip would somehow taint the new school. This led the always-rebellious Thelma to seek revenge by being extra sexy and flirty around studio executives. It was this aspect of her nature that led to her nickname of “Hot Toddy.” With her classmates from the film school, Thelma made her screen debut in the silent feature “Fascinating Youth” in 1926.

Initially, Thelma’s mother had been thrilled by her daughter’s career opportunities, but she had doubts when she saw a publicity photo of the pretty girl in a flimsy costume. Alice Todd rushed to New York to voice her moral objections to studio executives. Already at wit’s end with Thelma’s rebellious behavior, Paramount gave her an ultimatum – relocate to Paramount’s studio in Hollywood, or go home. Thelma packed up and moved to California.

Thelma went to work under a five-year, $75-per-week contract with Paramount and throughout 1927 she was given small parts in a number of feature films like “Rubber Heels” with Ed Wynn and “Nevada,” a western with Gary Cooper. Then, Al Jolson spoke a few words onscreen in “The Jazz Singer” and motion pictures were changed forever. The industry went through a terrifying series of changes as the "Talkies" became the new medium of choice. The old silent films were gone for good and with them went some of the biggest stars of the era. The careers of screen legends like John Gilbert, Clara Bow, Norma Talmadge and many others were suddenly over. They were forced into retirement when the public did not respond to the sound of their voices. For Thelma, the coming of sound motion pictures could not have occurred at a better time. She was now able to develop her wisecracking persona and the demise of many screen veterans made room for newcomers and little-known actors like Thelma. A new generation of screen stars was born. However, Paramount discharged her in 1929.

A short time later, Thelma was approached by Hal Roach, who offered her a new movie deal that would also allow her to freelance for other studios. Roach planned to feature Thelma with comedy actress Zasu Pitts in a series of two-reel comedies. A former director at Essanay, Roach persuaded Pathe to sponsor him in his own studios and he soon emerged as a comedic talent, envisioning hilarious situations and translating them to film. Roach concentrated more on story than slapstick and audiences loved him at the box office. His biggest stars became Laurel and Hardy, Charlie Chase and Thelma Todd. She proved to be a real asset to Roach, not only appearing in her own films but as a female foil to Stan and Ollie and others.

At first, Thelma was reluctant to take the deal with Roach because the requirement came with conditions. The first was that she had to bleach her hair platinum blonde and the second required her to abide by the “potato clause.” This meant that she was being signed at a certain weight, and if she gained more than five pounds, it was cause for instant dismissal. Thelma’s mother, widowed since 1925, was in Hollywood for one of her frequent visits and she urged Thelma to take the deal. Before reporting to the Roach lot for her first shoot, Alice Todd supervised the bleaching of her daughter’s hair and helped her to arrange a stringent diet.

In addition to Thelma’s comedies for Hal Roach, Thelma also played major roles in films for other studios. They were mostly comedies in which she portrayed the sarcastic and wisecracking blonde role that most suited her. She appeared in two different films with the Marx Brothers, “Monkey Business” and the classic “Horse Feathers.” Stan Laurel always wanted Thelma as the female lead in the Laurel and Hardy films, but her personality didn’t always mesh with the two comedians on screen. She and Laurel became close friends and he often found work for her in other films when she wasn’t working for Roach. He loved her bawdy sense of humor and when she suffered from boyfriend problems, she always confided in Stan.

Thelma was always up for partying when she was not at work and found it difficult to avoid liquor and foods, both of which were fattening. Friends on the Roach lot introduced her to diet pills, and she soon became hooked on the tablets.

By 1930, Zasu Pitts had moved on to other work and Thelma was often joined on screen by Patsy Kelly. They were still going strong in 1935 and her professional career was filled with high spots. Always restless in her personal life, though, Thelma was pleased when director Roland West started showing an interest in her, even though the unattractive older man was already married to silent screen actress Jewel Carmen. West was one of the most respected directors in Hollywood during the 1920s and early 1930s. While his output of films was small, his work was appreciated by studios and audiences alike. His greatest success came in 1926 with “The Bat,” an atmospheric thriller starring Jack Pickford and Jewel Carmen. His visually astounding 1928 film, “The Dove,” won an Academy Award for art direction. In 1931, he created one of the most extraordinary chillers of the time, “The Bat Whispers” with Chester Morris. West and Thelma began a romance, with West promising her the lead in Howard Hughes’ “Hell’s Angels,” but that role went to Jean Harlow instead.

To make amends, West cast Thelma as the lead in “Corsair,” a new film that he was producing and directing for United Artists. When released, the film bombed and Thelma returned to her heavy work schedule. Although she was no longer romantically interested in West, they remained friends. By then, he had lost interest in making movies and suggested that they open a restaurant that catered to the film colony. Thelma promised to consider the idea.

Around this same time, Thelma met Pasquale DiCicco, a handsome New York playboy who associated with gangsters for the thrill of it. The suave Pat, new to Hollywood, promoted himself as a talent agent and began making the rounds of the L.A. restaurant and nightclub circuit. Movie industry people knew that he associated with Charles “Lucky” Luciano, the Syndicate gangster who was based out of New York, which, of course, made him an intriguing character. Thelma was also amused by DiCicco and dating him gave her life a touch of danger – although it would prove to be more danger than she could have ever wanted.

Thelma and DiCicco had a whirlwind romance and, despite his violent temper and a number of beatings, the couple eloped on July 10, 1932 to Prescott, Ariz. The happy marriage did not last long. DiCicco refused to settle into married life and often left his new wife alone at their Brentwood home while he was out on the town. Frustrated, Thelma began drinking heavily, always relying on her faithful diet pills to keep the weight off. One night when Thelma convinced Pat to take her out with him to the clubs, DiCicco introduced her to Lucky Luciano, who was in town for a visit. Thelma was excited to be in the presence of the famous mobster, although DiCicco was unnerved by the gangster’s obvious interest in his wife.

By 1933, DiCicco was frequently away on business in New York and Thelma was continuing to churn out films, including her popular shorts with Patsy Kelly. Reportedly, she was seen out on the town several times with Luciano during this period. By February 1934, Thelma filed for divorce from DiCicco. That August, she began making plans with Roland West to open their restaurant on the beach. With funding from West’s wife, supervision by West himself, and Thelma’s name to lure in the film crowd, Thelma Todd’s Sidewalk Café opened for business.

Located under the palisades of what is now Pacific Coast Highway (then known as Roosevelt Highway), the restaurant occupied the ground floor along with a drug store. On the second level were a bar, lounge, and West’s business office, as well as two apartments, one of which West and Todd shared “separately.” Nearby, at 17531 Posetano Rd, was the grand house where West’s wife, Jewel, sometimes lived, along with her brother (the café’s business manager), and his wife. Thelma stored her car in one of the garages of the Posetano Road house. To reach the garage from the restaurant required an arduous climb of 270 concrete steps. The café opened to good business. Many of West’s and Thelma’s famous friends began frequenting the place and it became popular with actors and star-struck fans alike.

In mid-1935, Thelma was spending much of her spare time operating the café. She was still working hard, drinking, and keep up her steady run of diet pills. Her hectic life was further complicated by several threatening letters demanding a sizable blackmail fee. They proved to be the work of a deranged stalker in New York and while this bit of strangeness worked itself out, it was not the most frightening thing that Thelma had to deal with that summer.

Her most disconcerting problem was the pressure that she was receiving from Luciano to turn over the café’s third story storage room (used unofficially as a gambling parlor for wealthy customers) to him as a Syndicate operation. At that time, organized crime was starting to appear in California, moving west from places like New York and Chicago. Bootlegging and drug trafficking had long been a part of Hollywood, but in the middle 1930s, Luciano was making an attempt to penetrate California with his illegal gambling enterprise. He already had casinos all over the country and with so much money flowing in and out of Hollywood, he was looking for a way to get a piece of the action. Thelma kept refusing Luciano’s request and he eventually became violent, causing her to break off all contact with him.

Their final confrontation came one night in late November at the Brown Derby in Beverly Hills. According to witnesses, the pair had a brief exchange in the restaurant:

Thelma Todd: “You’ll open a gambling casino in my restaurant over my dead body!”

Luciano: “That can be arranged.”

Thelma threatened to take her problems with Luciano to L.A. District Attorney Buron Fitts and made an appointment at his office for December 17, 1935. To spite Luciano, she began converting the third-floor café space into a steakhouse. Meanwhile, Pat DiCicco showed up one day at the restaurant and asked her about the possibility of managing the place. Thelma didn’t know if he was trying to get back into her life – or if he was on a mission from Luciano.

 Thelma Todd’s Sidewalk Café

Thelma’s film work continued to thrive.  In 1935, she appeared with Bing Crosby in the Paramount musical “Two for Tonight” and in November, she began working with Laurel and Hardy again in the feature-length musical “The Bohemian Girl.” This film was also based on an operetta and Stan found an unusual part for Thelma to play. She appeared as a gypsy’s daughter, wearing a black wig to cover her blond curls. She continued to work on the film well into December.

On December 14, Thelma received an invitation to a Hollywood party. A few years earlier, she had made a film with Stanley Lupino, the British stage comedian and father of actress Ida Lupino. Stanley and his wife were in town, and Ida was hosting a dinner party for him at the Café Trocadero. When Thelma informed West about the party, he was irritated with her that she would not be at their own restaurant on such a busy night before the holidays. But this was not the worst thing to come that night. A few days earlier, Pat DiCicco had run into Ida Lupino at the Trocadero and she had unknowingly invited him to the party.

On the afternoon of December 14, Thelma and her mother went out Christmas shopping, driven by her chauffeur, Ernest Peters. Later, she returned home to change clothes while her mother continued with her errands. At 7:30 p.m., Peters, along with Mrs. Todd, picked up Thelma. The actress was wearing a blue satin evening gown with lace and sequins, expensive jewelry, and a luxurious mink coat. Before leaving, she and West argued again about the café, but the still-rebellious Thelma slammed the door in his face and walked out. After dropping Thelma off at the Trocadero, Peters took Mrs. Todd home and then made himself available to drive Thelma home after the party.

The party was a great success and Pat DiCicco showed up later in the evening with actress Margaret Lindsay, a subtle way of snubbing his ex-wife. During the dinner, Thelma left the group to make a telephone call and use the restroom. When she returned, she seemed moody, but did not say why. Around midnight, DiCicco also made a mysterious phone call, which left him jittery. He refused to comment on it and left with Lindsay at about 1:15 a.m. without saying good night to anyone.

While Thelma waited for her driver to arrive, she asked her friend, theater owner Sid Grauman, to call Roland West and tell him that she was on her way home. Sid made the call, telling West that Thelma should be back at the apartment by 2:30 a.m., although a half-hour after that, she was still waiting at the restaurant. The car reached its destination about 3:30 a.m. As usual, Peters offered to escort Thelma to the door, but she told him that it wasn’t necessary. She gathered her coat around her and walked off into the dark – and this was the last time that Thelma Todd was ever seen alive.

At 10 a.m. on Monday morning, December 16, Thelma’s maid, Mae Whitehead, entered the garage of the Posetano House and found the body of Thelma Todd. She was lying face down on the front seat of her Packard convertible. Her blond hair was matted and her skin was pale. She was still wearing her clothes from Saturday night. A porcelain replacement tooth had been knocked out of her mouth and blood was spattered on her skin, her evening gown, and on the mink coat. The police were summoned at once and the shoddy investigation – or cover-up, depending on what you believe – began.

  

Police crime scene photograph of Thelma slumped over behind the wheel of her car. Suicide could not explain the beating that she had taken before her death.

Thelma died from carbon monoxide asphyxiation, but how she managed to get locked into her garage, by her own hands or by someone else’s, was a matter of conjecture. The investigation into her death revealed more questions than answers.  Some suggested that Thelma might have committed suicide. It was not an uncommon method for such an act, but then murders had been committed in a similar fashion. In addition, if she had killed herself, where had the blood on her face and clothing come from? To make matters more suspicious, an autopsy had revealed that Thelma had suffered a broken nose, several broken ribs, and enough bruises to suggest that she had been roughed up. This seemed to rule out suicide.

As the investigation continued, some nervous witnesses claimed to receive ominous threats and, in turn, recanted part, or all, of their original statements. In another weird twist, when Thelma’s mother first arrived at the scene, she insisted that someone had murdered her daughter. Later, she said that she believed Thelma’s death had been accidental. Then, still later in life, she changed her story again and once more said that Thelma had been murdered. Did someone lean on Thelma’s mother during the investigation and convince her that voicing suspicions of murder was a bad idea?

But if Thelma had been murdered, who had killed her? Roland West seemed to be the likely suspect and witnesses from the party, including Ida Lupino, said that she had been uneasy after making a telephone call. All agreed that she had been drunker than usual when she went home and Sid Grauman told the police about his telephone call to West. Also, witnesses from the neighborhood told the court how they had seen Thelma, still in her evening gown and mink coat, screaming obscenities and kicking at the door of the apartment. Apparently, she may have made it to the top of the concrete stairs, but could not get into the apartment.

Throughout the investigation, West contradicted himself several times, changing his story about his activities over the weekend several times. West admitted that instead of helping Thelma into bed on Sunday morning, he had locked the door to the apartment. After their fight earlier on Saturday, West had warned her that if she was not home by 2 a.m., he was going to lock her out. Some have surmised that Thelma’s telephone call during the party had been to West, hoping for a reprieve. When it didn’t come, she had asked mutual friend Sid Grauman to call for her later. But West remained adamant and said that after Thelma got home, they had another fight through the door. However, he added a strange contradiction to his story. He stated that he had later been awakened by his dog barking and was sure that he heard water running in the apartment. He assumed that Thelma had somehow gotten into the house.

An examination of the door did reveal marks where it was apparently kicked. Police were baffled though as to how Thelma could have gotten inside when it was bolted shut on the other side. This made them even more suspicious of West. Someone raised the incredible theory that West had hired an actress to pretend to be Thelma beating on the door while he was actually beating the real woman to death inside. The idea of the look-alike aside, West had a strong alibi against murder. Although his statement was contradictory, there was no evidence to tie him to the murder scene. He was, by his own admission, the last person to speak with Thelma on Sunday morning, just a short time before she died.

Another strange twist came from West’s wife, Jewel Carmen. She claimed that she had seen Thelma on Sunday morning, after the sun was up, driving her Packard past the intersection of Hollywood and Vine. At her side was a handsome stranger. This testimony was very bizarre because the coroner and the police believed that Thelma was already dead by then. They were sure that she had died during the early morning hours of Sunday and was not discovered until the following day.

But how reliable was Jewel Carmen? She was West’s wife and he was the prime suspect in the case. If she were lying, why would an estranged wife protect her unfaithful husband? Some suggested that perhaps if West did kill Thelma, perhaps Carmen hoped to get back into his good graces by providing an alternate killer in the form of the “handsome stranger.” She could also put Thelma in another place far from the early morning argument with West. All of the confusing stories, combined with no hard evidence, eventually cleared West of Thelma’s murder.

Years later, sources who have studied the case have pointed out West’s close ties to industry mogul Joseph M. Schenk and believe that it’s possible that Schenk may have used his major clout to help his friend get away with murder. Regardless, West never directed another film in Hollywood. He and Jewel Carmen divorced shortly after Thelma’s death and later, he sold the café. In 1950, he suffered a debilitating stroke and endured an emotional breakdown. On his deathbed in March 1952, he confessed to Chester Morris that he had always been haunted by Thelma’s death and felt that he was in some way responsible for it.

At the inquest that was held into Thelma’s death, the jury ruled that she had died accidentally from carbon monoxide poisoning. They had been confused by all of the complicated testimony and, lacking any real evidence of murder, had no choice but to conclude that it had been an accident.

But Thelma’s attorney, who attended the inquest, was sure that the police had been on the wrong track all along. He requested a second inquest, in which he would be able to prove his theory. He believed that he could pin her murder, not accidental death, on Lucky Luciano. He was sure that when Thelma had turned down the gangster’s offer to take over the gambling at her café, she had unknowingly signed her own death warrant. The attorney was convinced that Luciano, or someone who worked for him, had beaten Thelma, put her in the car unconscious, and then started the engine. With the garage door closed, she had been poisoned by the fumes.

The district attorney agreed to the idea and a second inquest was scheduled. However, when Hal Roach learned of the plans for the second inquest, he begged the D.A. to drop the matter. Terrified at the thought of crossing Luciano, he urged the District Attorney to reconsider. Reluctantly, he agreed and the case was closed for good. As a result, the murder of Thelma Todd was never solved.

Although the case was wrapped up as far as the law was concerned, there were just too many unanswered questions and, as usual, involvement in the affair was enough to bring on the Hollywood style of retribution. In the past, Hollywood circles had ruined the careers of many popular stars and the death of Thelma Todd brought on the destruction of Roland West, who never worked again. No one else wanted to join him in his descent into obscurity.

The mystery over the unsolved death of Thelma Todd has lingered for decades. Some believe this may be why her spirit is so restless. Her ghost is still frequently seen and encountered at the building where the Roadside Rest Cafe was once located. Staff members at the production company that took over the space a few years ago stated that they often saw a filmy apparition that resembled Thelma. It was often seen near the concrete steps leading to the garage and also outside, in a small courtyard area. Was she replaying the events that occurred on the night of her death?

But the café is not the only spot connected to Thelma Todd’s death where ghostly events have occurred. In the garage of the house on Posetano Road, people have complained about the sound of a spectral engine running when the space is actually empty. Others say they have smelled, and have been nearly overwhelmed, by noxious exhaust fumes in the garage, even when no car was present. Apparently, the terrible events of that long-ago night in December have left an indelible impression on the place.

Will Thelma Todd ever rest in peace? It’s not likely. Unless new evidence could somehow come to light, her murder will always remain unsolved --- perhaps resulting in a tragic spirit that will continue to walk for many years to come. 

From Troy Taylor’s book, BLOODY HOLLYWOOD. 

THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF THOMAS INCE

And the Haunting of Culver Studios

On November 19, 1924, Hollywood movie producer Thomas Ince died after celebrating his 42nd birthday aboard a yacht belonging to infamous newspaper publisher William Randolph Hearst, but to this day, the exact circumstances of his death remain a mystery. Could this be why his ghost still wanders the movie studio that he founded?

Thomas Ince was a pioneering member of the Hollywood elite. In 1918, he founded Culver Studios and was considered to be the "Father of the Western." He was also the man who introduced the world to Mary Pickford, crowning her "America's Sweetheart."  Ince rose from being a $15 a week actor to become the head of a studio and to this day, still has a street named after him in Culver City: Ince Boulevard. 

Almost a century later, Culver Studios remains one of Hollywood's most historic studios. It was the site of filming for “Gone With the Wind,” “Citizen Kane” and other classics. Over the years, the film lot has been home to such names as RKO, Howard Hughes, and DesiLu Studios. In addition to film classics, Culver Studios was also the birthplace to favorite television shows like “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Lassie,”  “Hogan’s Heroes,” and “Batman.” Previous owners of the studios have included Cecil B. DeMille and eccentric billionaire Howard Hughes. 

But Thomas Ince had humble beginnings in the movie capital. In 1915, Ince partnered with D.W. Griffith and Mack Sennett to create the Triangle Motion Picture Company in Culver City. Somewhere along the way, the deal went sour and Ince sold out and entered into a lease with Harry Culver for a new 14-acre studio fronting on Washington Boulevard. It took two years to build the Thomas H. Ince Studio, and in December 1918, a Los Angeles newspaper called it “a motion picture plant that looks like a beautiful southern estate.” Ince, a visionary in the industry, promoted the glamour of moviemaking and he entertained the King and Queen of Belgium and President Woodrow Wilson at the studios. The administration building became a well-known landmark and Ince was rapidly expanding his successful facility.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to last – and neither was Ince’s revered status. Sadly, Ince is remembered much more today for his scandalous death than for his contribution to the art of movie making. Ince died in November 1924 while celebrating his birthday on board a yacht owned by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. The real story of how Ince died will never be known -- but Hollywood rumors tell a strange and twisted tale.

Thomas Ince

Ince’s mysterious death will forever be linked to Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst, the greatest newspaper baron and one of the most powerful men in American history. By the 1920s, Hearst had also become a major film financier, as well. He had first become interested in film through newsreels in 1911, but soon his hobby turned to a quest for profit. It was not long before his zeal for the movies was enhanced due to his passion for furthering the film career of sweet, but untalented, film actress Marion Davies, with whom Hearst had been carrying on a notorious affair. Hearst bought stock in MGM and created Cosmopolitan Productions, a company that specifically produced Marion’s films. His newspapers and magazines proclaimed her to be a “miracle of the movies” and he did everything he could to entrench her into the Hollywood film colony.

Parties thrown at Marion’s beach house were the most extravagant in town and people grabbed at the chance of an invitation to a Hearst affair. In addition, being able to relax at Hearst’s vast mansion in San Simeon, with millions of dollars worth of imported furnishings, tapestries, paintings, and 35 automobiles in the garage, was a must for anyone lucky enough to get an invitation for the weekend. Marion also earned high marks as a hostess, even if privately the party attendees made fun at her attempts at acting on the screen.

William Randolph Hearst and Marion Davies

Another popular party spot was Hearst’s 280-foot yacht, the Oneida. Invitations to the boat were even more highly coveted than those for the beach house parties. On the night of Saturday, November 15, 1924, the yacht left San Pedro Harbor for a weekend cruise to San Diego. The cream of Hollywood’s charmed circle received invitations to a party on board the Oneida  that weekend. There were a number of guests on board, but the only names that became available after the party were Hearst, Marion Davies, actress Seena Owen and author Elinor Glynn. That weekend marked the 43rd birthday of Thomas Ince, who was in the midst of negotiations with Hearst concerning the use of his Culver City studios as a base for Cosmopolitan Productions. It had been planned to throw Ince a birthday party on board the yacht. Mrs. Ince, who had also been invited, decided not to go along on the trip because she was not feeling well.

Ince, the guest of honor, missed the boat when it sailed from San Pedro because of his attendance at the premiere of “The Mirage,” his latest film. It is believed that he took the last train to San Diego, where he met the Oneida, and joined the party for the return trip. The celebration on board was said to be a wonderful occasion, but then things got murky.
    
In the early morning hours of the following Wednesday, Thomas Ince died at his Benedict Canyon home. His death was attributed to “heart failure.” 

When the news reached the press, all sorts of ugly rumors began to circulate, as well as a hash of conflicting stories. Things became so heated that Chester Kemply, the District Attorney in San Diego, where the yacht had been anchored for the weekend, was forced to open an investigation.  The principals were all strangely absent at the hearings that followed. Hearst could not be reached for a statement. Marion, Elinor Glynn, and Seena Owen – the only names known for certain to have been on board – were not called by the D.A. to give testimony. The only person present at the hearing in San Diego was a doctor named Goodman, an employee of Hearst. His official version of events, which was printed in Hearst newspapers, stated that, after eating and drinking too much at the party, Ince died of “acute indigestion.” He was taken from the yacht and rushed home, where he later died. 

After the hearing, the case was closed. Originally, D.A. Kemply had insisted that he planned to call every single person who had been on board the yacht to give their version of events, but not only did he not call any of them, he suddenly, after just the one session, called off all further inquiry altogether. He was satisfied that Ince’s death had been explained – but others were not.

In Long Beach, a columnist named C.F. Adelsperger wrote, “At the risk of losing something of a reputation as a prophet, the writer will predict that some day one of the scandal-scented mysteries in filmdom will be cleared up. Motion picture circles have suffered alike from scandals and rumors of scandal. Deaths from violence or mysterious sources have been hinted at but never proved. If there is any foundation for suspicioning that Thomas Ince’s death was from other than natural causes an investigation should be made in justice to the public as well as to those concerned. If there was liquor aboard a millionaire’s yacht in San Diego Harbor, where Ince was taken ill, it should be investigated. A District Attorney who passes up the matter because he sees ‘no reason’ to investigate is the best agent the Bolshevists could employ in this country.”

One of the strangest facts about the cruise was that no accurate list of the guests on board the ship that weekend has ever been revealed. There were obviously many more people on board than has ever been reported. Several well-known personalities of the film world have been mentioned as Heart’s guests that weekend, but none of them ever publicly admitted to being on board the yacht. Of course, there were many rumors about who was there, just what actually occurred – and what really happened to cause the death of Thomas Ince.

Perhaps the most exciting rumor to make the rounds in Hollywood involved the presence of Ince’s friend, Charlie Chaplin, on board the Oneida for the party. Rumor had it, however, that Chaplin had not been invited just because he was Ince’s pal. Hearst was insanely jealous of other men’s attention to Marion Davies and his detectives had recently informed him that Marion and Chaplin had been seen together during a period of time when he was out of town. Hearst allegedly invited the comedic actor on board the yacht for the weekend cruise so that he could observe for himself how Chaplin and Marion behaved around one another.

It is believed that Hearst saw Marion and Chaplin slip off together during the party and that he discovered them together on the lower deck. A loud altercation followed and Hearst ran for his cabin to retrieve a diamond-studded revolver that he kept on board. (Heart was rumored to be an expert shot and often amused his guests on the boat by shooting down seagulls with a single bullet.) In the confusion that followed, it was rumored a shot was fired but it was Thomas Ince, and not Chaplin, who ended up with a bullet in the head!
Ince’s funeral was held on November 21, attended by his family, Marion Davies, Chaplin, Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and Harold Lloyd. Hearst was noticeably absent. The body was immediately cremated and an official inquest was never held.

Despite the fact that the evidence was now in ashes, Hearst knew he could be in trouble with the Hollywood rumor mill. Everyone on board the Oneida was sworn to secrecy (and it wouldn’t be wise to cross Hearst) but, in spite of this, persistent rumors linked Hearst to Ince’s death. No one could resist talking about the way the hearings into Ince’s death had been called off, the lack of an official inquest, or the damning story that Charlie Chaplin’s secretary had seen Ince carried off the yacht bleeding from a bullet wound to the head. 

Some thought it no coincidence that famed gossip columnist Louella Parsons was awarded a lifetime contract with Hearst soon after the incident since it was rumored that she had seen everything that had happened. Louella also felt the need to do a little covering up of her own and insisted that she had been in New York at the time of Ince’s death. The only problem with this story was that Vera Burnett, Marion’s stand-in, clearly recalled seeing Louella with Marion and Davies at the studio, ready for departure on the yacht. Vera valued her job, though, and decided not to make a big deal out of it.

Marion and Hearst managed to ride out the scandal unscathed, but as DW Griffith remarked in later years, “All you have to do to make Hearst turn white as a ghost is mention Ince’s name. There’s plenty wrong there, but Hearst is too big to touch.” It was widely known in Hollywood that, if you ever wanted to attend another party at Marion’s beach house or the San Simeon castle, you didn’t mention Ince’s name anyplace where Hearst might hear you.
In the years that followed, Hearst discreetly provided Ince’s widow, Nell, with a trust fund that was later wiped out by the Depression. Broke and penniless, Nell finished out her days as a taxi driver. As for Hearst, the entire affair was eventually reduced to a sardonic joke in Hollywood as the Oneida became known as “William Randolph’s Hearse.”

Strangely, though, death did not bring an end to sightings of Thomas Ince and his mysterious death also started rumors about Culver Studios being haunted. Ince built the studios, but they changed hands several times after his death. Cecil B. De Mille, Howard Hughes, David Selznick, Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball made significant contributions to film and television history on this lot. 

The rumors of the haunting have persisted for years. Employees have reported ghostly figures roaming the lot at night while others recount being frightened by the apparition of a woman who appears on the third floor from time to time. She always disappears quickly, leaving a cold spot of chilling wind behind.

Most famous, however, are the sightings of Thomas Ince himself. Witnesses have reported seeing the ghost of a man climbing the stairs in the main administration building, heading for the executive screening room. This had been Ince’s private projection room during his tenure at the studio. Remodeling seemed to bring out the worst in Ince’s ghost in 1988 when he began to reveal his displeasure over some major renovations.

The first to encounter him were two workmen who looked up to see a man in an odd, bowler-type hat watching them from the catwalks above Stage 1-2-3. When they spoke to him, he frowned and then turned and walked into the second floor wall. Later that summer, special-effects man Eugene Hilchey spoke to another worker who had also seen a man wearing an odd hat, this time on Stage 2-3-4. Hilchey was convinced the man’s description matched that of Ince. The workers’ statement was enough to cement his belief. The ghost had reportedly turned to the workmen and said, “I don’t like what you’re doing to my studio.” Then he vanished into the wall.

Even after the renovations, much of Ince’s original studio remains as it was and the sense of history here is very strong. Today, Culver Studios remains one of the busiest lots in town. Hopefully, Thomas Ince’s spirit can find a little peace in that!

This is a story from Troy Taylor's Book, "Bloody Hollywood."

DEATH OF A GODDESS

The Mysterious end of Marilyn Monroe

There are few personalities of the twentieth century that have inspired as much enthusiasm and worship as Marilyn Monroe. She is one of Hollywood’s greatest icons and the facts, rumors, and legends about her life and mysterious death are an integral part of Tinseltown’s lore.

Unquestionably, a portion of Marilyn’s enduring fame stems from her sudden death at the age of 36. At first, most people agreed with the official verdict that her death was likely by suicide. But as the years have passed, he persistent questions about her demise have refused to go away. An increasing number of researchers have come to believe that her romantic relationships with the Kennedy clan, both John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy, might well have been the cause of her “suicide.” Many of those who believe that she was murdered also believe in a conspiracy that was created to cover up the secret homicide. These lingering questions, doubts, and theories have turned the death of Marilyn Monroe into one of Hollywood’s greatest unsolved mysteries.

Marilyn when she was still Norma Jean

She was born Norma Jeane Mortenson on June 1, 1926. Her mother, Gladys, had previously been married to a businessman, John Baker. She then wed a gas company meter man named Martin Mortenson. However, they had separated in 1925 and he had filed for divorce many months before Gladys became pregnant with Norma Jeane, making the baby’s father one of a number of different candidates. During much of Norma Jeane’s youth, the erratic Gladys was often institutionalized, which mean that Norma Jeane lived in foster homes and later, an orphanage.

    

In June 1942, to prevent being sent off to stay in another foster home, the 16-year-old Norma Jeane married James Doughtery, a 22-year-old aircraft factory worker. Doughtery was drafted and sent overseas during the war and Norma Jeane worked in a factory, inspecting parachutes. In 1944, she was photographed by the Army as a promotion to show women on the assembly line contributing to the war effort. One of the photographers asked to take further pictures of her and by the following spring, she had appeared on the covers of 33 national magazines. In July 1946, the would-be actress screen-tested for Twentieth Century Fox and was soon signed to a $75-per-week contract. The studio selected a new name for her, Marilyn Monroe, and gave her a minor part in the film “Scudda-Hoo! Scudda-Hay!” In September, she was granted her first divorce.

Marilyn only had a few small roles at Fox and after six months, her newcomer’s option was dropped. She ended up over at Columbia Pictures (reportedly after being forced to work the “casting couch” option) where she signed a new contract for $125 per week. There, she earned a part in the musical “Ladies of the Chorus.” Rumor has it that she ruined her chances on the lot because she refused to do special favors for studio mogul Harry Cohn. At this time, naïve Marilyn was involved with vocal coach and music arranger Fred Karger. When he dropped her for another girlfriend, Marilyn was devastated.

The goddess “Marilyn Monroe” was born

In 1949, she met agent Johnny Hyde of the William Morris Agency. He was married, short, unattractive, and 31 years older than Marilyn. Nevertheless, the high-powered agent became her mentor and her lover. She also agreed to pose nude for a calendar that year and her career was on its way. Her first major role came in 1950 in “The Asphalt Jungle,” which earned her great reviews. This was followed by “All About Eve” and others. Hyde died in 1950, but by then Marilyn was coming into her own at Fox and became the studio’s new blonde bombshell. Her rapid rise to fame, though, seemed to exacerbate her many insecurities and that made her temperamental both on and off the set. As a marquee attraction, she indulged her newfound power by rejecting studio projects, especially those that would further showcase her as a dumb blonde, an image that she hated. Her pleas to be given more substantial roles were virtually ignored, which only increased her frustration and added to her lack of self-confidence.

In 1952, Marilyn met and fell in love with Joe DiMaggio, the famous baseball player. That same year, she began filming “Niagara” with Joseph Cotten, a film that would establish her stardom, although “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” with Jane Russell would make her a legend.

Marilyn and baseball star Joe DiMaggio. Their marriage didn’t work out, but DiMaggio continued to be in love with her until his death.

On January 14, 1954, Marilyn and DiMaggio were married. The wedding made headlines all over the world, but the “dream romance” was never meant to last. Joe was a jealous type who thought that Marilyn was going to drop out of the movie business and become a housewife, something that she was never destined to be. In the fall of 1954, they separated and were later divorced. Despite this personal crisis, Marilyn’s stardom continued to skyrocket as she filmed her classic role in “The Seven Year Itch.”

In early 1955, Marilyn rebelled further against the studio, went to New York, and joined the Actors Studio, intent on becoming known as a serious actress. Here, she renewed her acquaintance with playwright Arthur Miller and the two of them began an affair that would later lead to marriage. To Marilyn, Miller represented the serious theater and a keen intellect that she found very attractive.

Marilyn returned to Hollywood in February 1956, after a yearlong absence, to film “Bus Stop.” She earned solid reviews for the picture, which prompted her demand for greater control over her films, wishes that the studio ignored because she was difficult on the set and resistant to guidance. As the conflicts with her bosses intensified, so did her consumption of drugs and alcohol.

Marilyn and playwright, Arthur Miller

Marilyn sought relief from her problems by getting married again. She returned to New York in June and she and Arthur Miller were married on June 29. She hoped that this older, kind, and intellectual man would smooth over her escalating problems. Months later, Marilyn suffered a miscarriage, as would happen again in 1957 and 1958. During this emotionally draining period, she flew to England to star opposite Sir Laurence Olivier in “The Prince and The Showgirl.” It was an unhappy shoot and the film failed with both audiences and critics. After London, she returned to Hollywood to make “Some Like It Hot” with Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis.

It was around this time when her health began to deteriorate thanks to her increased dependency on drugs, especially sleeping pills. She was often late arriving on the set and was unable to remember her lines. In 1960, she began seeing Dr. Ralph Greenson, the so-called “psychoanalyst to the stars.” As was common during this time, he relied heavily on prescribing barbiturates and tranquilizers to accompany his therapy.

July 1960 marked the start of filming for “The Misfits.” The movie was based on a short story by Arthur Miller but while on location, he and Marilyn lived in separate quarters and were hardly speaking. Drugs were flown in for Marilyn from her doctor, but somehow she managed to give an exceptional performance. The shoot would be marked with tragedy, though. On the day after filming was completed, co-star Clark Gable would suffer a serious heart attack and die. Marilyn felt a tremendous amount of guilt over his death, further aggravating her depression.

By late 1960, her marriage with Arthur Miller had completely fallen apart. Their divorce became final in Juarez, Mexico, in January 1961. During the filming of “The Misfits,” Marilyn was often out of control. At one point, she was hospitalized to detoxify and regain a degree of emotional stability. After her divorce from Miller, Marilyn spiraled even further down and began displaying suicidal behavior. In February, her analyst convinced her to enter the psychiatric ward of the Payne Whitney Clinic, where was confined for seven horrifying days. Subjected to a locked, padded cell, Marilyn, now even more distraught, called Joe DiMaggio and asked him to rescue her. He immediately arranged for a discharge.

Marilyn with Jack and Bobby Kennedy

In October 1961, Marilyn had her first meeting with President John F. Kennedy at a dinner party that was hosted by his sister, Pat, and his brother-in-law, actor Peter Lawford, at the couple’s home in Santa Monica, Calif. A few months later, Marilyn and Kennedy met again at a New York dinner gathering. Their third meeting occurred in late March 1962 at the Palm Springs home of Bing Crosby, where she and Kennedy were both houseguests. Reportedly, this is when the president and the movie star began their short-lived affair.

Meanwhile, in 1962, Marilyn purchased the first house that she had ever owned, a Spanish-style home in the Brentwood section of Los Angeles. At Greeson’s urging, she hired Eunice Murray as housekeeper. Murray called herself a nurse but had neither the training nor any credentials. Strangely, it is believed that Murray was essentially a “spy” for Greenson, who continued to have more and more control over Marilyn’s life. He saw her almost daily when she was in Hollywood.

Marilyn’s home in Brentwood

After a long period away from the soundstages, Marilyn returned to the studio in April 1962 to begin a romantic comedy called “Something’s Got To Give” with Dean Martin. Although Marilyn looked wonderful, she was an emotional wreck and on the days that she bothered to show up on the set, she was often struggling to remember her dialogue. No one at the studio was very happy, especially in light of the debt that had been recently created for the studio by the schedule and cost overruns on the set of “Cleopatra,” starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. As the budget for that film climbed out of control, harried executives decided that by canceling Marilyn’s film, with a lower budget and fewer actors, they could save enough money to finish the filming of “Cleopatra.”

In mid-May 1962, during one of her many absences from the lot, Marilyn went to New York to sing “Happy Birthday” to the president at a Madison Square Garden party. Because Marilyn so brazenly defied the studio with her well-documented absence, her bosses became even angrier. Perhaps realizing that she had gone too far, Marilyn was much more cooperative when she returned to L.A. But by then it was too late. On June 1, Marilyn turned 36 and celebrated with a small party on the set. Six days later, Fox fired her for “unprofessional antics.” The studio also filed a $750,000 lawsuit against their former star and attempted to re-cast her part in the film. However, Dean Martin refused to work with anyone else but Marilyn. Cooler heads soon prevailed and the studio suggested a compromise: after Martin completed other film commitments, the movie would restart with Marilyn again as the leading lady.

In the meantime, Marilyn was contemplating other movie and stage offers, including some in Las Vegas, as well as the possibility of a layout in Playboy magazine. After short visits to New York and Mexico City, the actress returned home. On August 1, Marilyn was signed to a new $250,000 contract to complete “Something’s Got To Give.”

On Saturday, August 4, 1962, Marilyn was at home all day. Her only guest was her publicist, Pat Newcomb. Later reports would claim that Robert F. Kennedy visited the house that day. Around 5 p.m., Greenson, came over for their usual therapy session. Marilyn retired to her bedroom around 8 p.m. and took the telephone from the hall into the room with her. She made several phone calls that night, including one to Joe DiMaggio’s son, Joe Jr., who had recently broken up with his girlfriend. Marilyn called to console him.

She also called Peter Lawford to cancel a dinner invitation. Marilyn allegedly said to Lawford, “Peter, I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight because I don’t feel well. Will you say goodbye to Pat [Lawford’s wife] and to Jack and to yourself, because you’re a nice guy?” Lawford supposedly became concerned about the “goodbye” portion of her call and wanted to rush over to check on her, but was advised not to. As the president’s brother-in-law, it could generate adverse publicity for everyone if there was actually something amiss. Lawford later claimed that he contacted Marilyn’s agent and had that person call the house. Mrs. Murray answered the call at 9:30 p.m. and said that the telephone extension was still in Marilyn’s room, so she must be fine. She always placed the telephone outside her room at night so that her troubled sleep would not be disturbed if it rang. It is unknown if any other calls came into, or were made from, Marilyn’s house that night. The telephone records for the night of August 4 mysteriously disappeared after being obtained by the authorities from the phone company.

According to the “official” account of Marilyn’s death, Eunice Murray noticed a light shining under her bedroom door at about midnight (later revised to 3:25 a.m.). When Marilyn did not respond to Murray’s knocking, the woman went outside and peered through the closed window. Her view of Marilyn on the bed looked “peculiar,” so she telephoned Dr. Greenson. When he arrived, he broke a pane in the French window and opened the door, finding Marilyn on the bed, unconscious. Greenson then called Marilyn’s personal physician, Dr. Hyman Engelberg, who pronounced Marilyn dead at the scene. A short time later, the police were summoned to the house.

The death scene at Marilyn’s house

 When LAPD Sergeant Jack Clemmons arrived, he found several people there, including the two doctors and Mrs. Murray. Clemmons later said, “It looked like a convention” and added something “wasn’t kosher.” Clemmons affirmed that he found Marilyn lying naked, facedown, and at an angle on the bed in the sparsely furnished master bedroom. He noted that her arm seemed to be reaching out for the nearby telephone. An empty bottle of sleeping pills was found next to the bed. There were 10 to 14 other bottles on the nightstand, including one that contacted 10 capsules of chloral hydrate, used as a hypnotic. Marilyn’s body was taken to the Westwood Village Mortuary and the house was sealed and placed under guard.

Later, the body was taken to the county morgue, where Los Angeles County Deputy Medical Examiner Thomas T. Noguchi conducted the high-profile autopsy. Noguchi would claim that his youth and relative inexperience caused errors in the case, but later, claimed to have been pressured by his superiors to sign his original autopsy report on Monroe’s death. The official investigation attributed Marilyn’s death to “acute barbiturate poisoning, ingestion of overdose” -- namely Nembutal and chloral hydrate. It was determined to be a suicide. However, a strong forensic doubt can be cast on this conclusion since no barbiturates were actually found in Marilyn’s body, despite the blood and liver levels and the empty bottle of Nembutal found next to the bed.

Marilyn’s crypt at Westwood Memorial Park

After the autopsy, Joe DiMaggio came to Marilyn’s rescue once more. He flew from San Francisco to supervise the funeral arrangements. Marilyn was buried at Westwood Memorial Park, where for the next several decades, red roses were delivered to her crypt each week, courtesy of DiMaggio. Joe died at the age of 85 in 1999 and until the day he died, he regretted losing Marilyn and told friends that he had hoped to remarry her. Reportedly, not long before his death, Joe told his longtime attorney and friend, Morris Engelberg, “I’ll finally get to see Marilyn.”

Marilyn’s life was over, but she was certainly not being allowed to rest in peace. Controversy and conspiracy theories ran rampant after her death and many refused to believe that she had actually committed suicide. The most popular theories claimed that she had been silenced to protect the reputation of the Kennedy family, as revenge against the Kennedys, or worse.

The inconsistencies were so strange that they prompted a 1985 investigation into Marilyn’s death. According to Walter Schaefer, owner of the Schaefer Ambulance Company, he received a call at about 2 a.m. on the night of Marilyn’s death. He picked her up at her home and delivered her to Santa Monica Hospital, where she died in the emergency room. Inexplicably, though, she was found back at her house, naked, prone on the bed, reaching for the telephone. Deborah Gould, former wife of Marilyn’s friend Peter Lawford, insisted that Lawford and an investigator went to Marilyn’s house to “clean things up” and that Lawford destroyed a note she had written. Gould also stated that Lawford told her, “Marilyn took her last big enema.” At the time of her death, the actress had been taking enemas to facilitate bowel movements, but Gould interpreted this comment to mean something else – namely an enema filled with an overdose of drugs.

Most conspiracy theories about Marilyn’s death seem to connect to her alleged affair with John F. Kennedy. According to a number of accounts, they were attracted to one another after they met yet opinions vary as to just how serious the affair actually was. White House telephone logs show that they spoke on the phone numerous times, yet proving the two had an actual affair has been problematic. Somewhere along the line, the president’s brother, Robert Kennedy, was added to the mix.

According to the stories, Robert Kennedy arrived in L.A. on August 1, 1962 to give a speech to the Bar Association. Apparently, he met Marilyn later that evening at Peter Lawford’s house for an impromptu dinner. Some have speculated that Marilyn organized the dinner herself, while others claim that Bobby arranged the evening, primarily to tell her to stay away from his brother. In any case, the two supposedly ended up making love that night, further complicating matters. Days later, Bobby allegedly rejected Marilyn and warned her again about staying away from the Kennedy family. That forced Marilyn, who was already emotionally distraught, to threaten to expose the contents of her diary – contents that allegedly contained some pretty unsavory information regarding her affair with the president, and about the Kennedys’ collusion with organized crime. As the theory goes, Robert then had to have her silenced – or did someone do it for him?

Another popular theory describes Marilyn’s death at the hands of the mob. As many writers have suggested, the Mafia had a long-standing relationship with the Kennedy family, dating all the way back to Joseph Kennedy and his days as a bootlegger. Underworld legend has it that during the 1960 election, the mob put their muscle behind John Kennedy, especially in Chicago, to insure that he won the presidency. In return, they were given assurances that mob activities would be untouched during the Kennedy administration. But by 1962, it had become painfully obvious that the Kennedys had no intention of keeping up their end of the bargain. In 1960, for example, a mere 19 organized crime figures had been indicted, but within the first two years of the Kennedy administration, 121 Mafia characters were indicted, thanks to Robert Kennedy’s efforts as Attorney General. That left the mob with only one solution – to get the Kennedys out of the way. They tried to do this by first revealing the president’s messy affair with Marilyn, then arranging her death so that the Kennedys appeared to be involved. Unfortunately, for the mob’s efforts anyway, the possible connection between Marilyn and the Kennedys would not really become a part of popular culture until long after almost everyone involved was dead.

If there was a conspiracy behind Marilyn’s death, then based on the contradictions in the case, it would seem to have had to involve her analyst, Dr. Ralph Greenson. He was the man who provided Marilyn with her drugs in the first place. Apparently, on August 4, the day of her death, Greenson gave her a fresh prescription for nembutal. Yet when her body was found in the early morning hours, all 50 pills were gone. Those who believed that she committed suicide have suggested that she simply swallowed all 50 of them. Yet, Noguchi failed to find any trace of drugs in her stomach or intestinal tract when he performed the autopsy. That means that Marilyn had to administer the pills – all 50 of them – rectally. Of course, she could have done this on her own, but if she was trying to kill herself it certainly seems more plausible that she would have just swallowed them with a glass of water. In other words, it seems very possible that someone helped her.

At least one neighbor claimed to have seen Greenson arrive at Marilyn’s house in the early evening with a man who looked like Bobby Kennedy. And if Kennedy was there, he probably came to warn Marilyn away from the family once and for all, and did so with Dr. Greenson’s help. That may have unhinged Marilyn completely, perhaps to the point of hurting herself. That, in turn, may have forced everyone out of the room so that Greenson could administer a sedative. There are accounts that Greenson then left and met up with the rest of the group for dinner at a nearby restaurant. And there are also accounts of Marilyn trying to make a number of frantic calls to Peter Lawford around the same time. In any case, the group apparently returned to her house a few hours later and that’s when she was found unconscious, or even perhaps dead. This may explain why an ambulance driver claimed to take her to the hospital and if a Kennedy really was present, why her body was returned to the house so that it could be “discovered” there.

Regardless, in spite of the hundreds of books written on the subject, no one has ever really been able to solve the mysteries surrounding Marilyn’s death. Part of this has to do with a very real, documented cover-up involving destroyed phone records, a missing diary, and invented alibis. In addition, in the intervening years, almost everyone involved with the case has died, including Peter Lawford, L.A. Police Chief William H. Parker, John F. Kennedy, and Robert Kennedy. In 1985, a Los Angeles grand jury was asked to re-examine Marilyn’s death, but they recommended against re-opening the still-controversial case – there was simply not enough hard evidence to suggest that she had been murdered. Even so, the question remains.

Could this be why Marilyn’s ghost is still rumored to linger in Tinseltown? Perhaps, but one has to wonder just how many places Marilyn’s spirit can haunt? Perhaps the most likely spot to find her ghost would be her former home in Brentwood. Rumor has it that her spirit has been encountered many times in the room where she died. The late Anna Nicole Smith lived in Marilyn’s former home for a time, and she claimed to frequently see and feel Marilyn’s spirit in the house.

One of the most famous locations where Marilyn’s ghost has been encountered has been at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. A hotel employee named Suzanne Leonard was the first to encounter Marilyn’s spectral image in a mirror that was hanging in a hotel office, but she has not been the last. It was later learned that the hotel once hung in Marilyn’s favorite suite, which she often used when she wanted to escape from the pressures of her career. Apparently, Marilyn has been encountered in other ways at the hotel, too. Singer Nick Lachey told a friend in 2006 that he had entered an elevator in the hotel and was stunned to see a gorgeous blonde dressed in sexy 1950s-style evening wear. When he pressed the button for his floor and then turned around for a better look, the woman had vanished. Lachey was convinced that the phantom was Marilyn Monroe.

Marilyn’s ghost has also supposedly been seen at her crypt in the Westwood Village Memorial Park. This haunting is reportedly connected to DiMaggio’s weekly delivery of roses to her grave, which ended with the slugger’s death in 1999. Other admirers still leave flowers and other items at her grave today, but it is Joe’s roses that Marilyn’s specter allegedly waits for. A number of people claim that they have spotted her as a filmy cloud, hovering nearby as she waits for her roses to be delivered to her tomb.

Does her ghost still linger? Perhaps – or perhaps not. It’s true that there are many unanswered questions connected to her death, but it’s also possible that sightings of her ghost are merely wishful thinking on our parts because we just can’t seem to let Marilyn go. Will the troubled young woman ever really rest in peace? Probably not in the way that she deserves to.

From the book BLOODY HOLLYWOOD by Troy Taylor