Two Birds, One Feather: The Lives and Times of Lorewyn & Rhianyn in America

by C. J. Pearson

  However, she stumbled on a quite different kind of broadcast. A local Chicago radio station was covering an early game in the current season of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League! Lorewyn had to pause in her rotating of the tuning dial to listen to this. She had heard of the league, of course. It had formed five years earlier during the war when a lot of male baseball players were drafted or enlisted for active duty. Even after the war had ended and the soldiers had come home, the women’s league continued, having drawn a fan base. They had less than a dozen teams, all located in the Great Lakes region, which is why Lorewyn had never seen a game of theirs before or even heard them on the radio.

  The game was the South Bend Blue Sox versus the newly chartered Chicago Colleens, being played that evening at Wrigley Field. Lorewyn wished she had known in advance… she might’ve bought a ticket! But since baseball games were now being broadcast live on radio, she could at least follow the action.

  Too bad I can’t actually see them play, she thought. Maybe one day they’ll show them on that new television technology that’s coming around.

  She listened for a few minutes, just thrilled about the idea of women’s major league baseball actually coming to fruition, and was about to turn off the radio for the night and take reverie when all of a sudden she heard something the broadcaster said, something that caused her to continue listening in amazement.

  “Next up to bat for South Bend,” the announcer stated in a scratchy Midwestern accent, “Number 37 from Lebanon, Pennsylvania, Short Stop Cateline Lewis!” There was a brief pause as Lorewyn could hear some cheering in the background. “Traded from Kenosha last year, this is Lewis’s third season with the league. A devoted baseball fan since her youth, Lewis suffered from polio at age 8, leaving her weakened through part of her childhood. However, she trained as an athlete in high school, then went on to play volleyball, basketball, and run track at the College of Wooster in Ohio through the Women’s Athletic Association before joining the league in 1946. Lewis credits her female coaches at Wooster for encouraging her to play girls baseball and says her biggest inspiration for training was an autographed baseball from Babe Ruth… even though her favorite team outside the league is the Philadelphia Athletics. Sorry, Cubs and White Sox fans!” Some laughter could be heard.

  Lorewyn was stunned at first, then found herself feeling a warmth from deep inside her chest. She listened for a while longer, making sure she caught the coverage of Cateline’s base hit after a strike and two balls. She smiled to herself as she finally turned off the radio and prepared to take reverie for the night.

  “You did it, girl,” she whispered softly. “It might be a Blue Sox jersey instead of the Athletics… but you made your dream come true.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Lorewyn’s last project with Fox studios came in 1951 with the filming of Deadline – U.S.A. starring Humphrey Bogart. Lorewyn, as Alivia Chambers, was called in to double in a few scenes for lead actress Kim Hunter. Hunter was smart, savvy, and politically quite progressive. She had done a number of films up to that point, including A Streetcar Named Desire with Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando for which she had earned both Academy and Globe Awards the following year, and was a founding member of the Actor’s Studio. Lorewyn liked her the moment they met, and they got to be friends on the set. Lorewyn learned a lot about Hunter’s life and work, and while Lorewyn herself was candid with regards to her career for the previous two decades, she was obviously very cautious about details regarding her personal life and upbringing. Hunter seemed to understand and didn’t pry.

  “Some things a lady doesn’t tell,” she merely said. She had just married fellow actor Robert Emmett shortly before the studio started filming, her second marriage. She had suggested that the success of a second marriage rested largely upon a woman not revealing everything about her first marriage.

  “I think I like her too,” Rhianyn mused as Lorewyn told her more about her conversations and interactions with Hunter.

  “Good,” Lorewyn stated, “because I want you to meet her. She’s been the closest thing I’ve had to a real friend in this business since Olivia de Havilland.”

  And so, they set up a date. The premiere showing of Streetcar was in September, just days before the filming for Deadline – U.S.A. was expected to be completed. Hunter got VIP tickets for Lorewyn and Rhianyn and invited them to join her for the premiere. They were having drinks afterward when Hunter dropped the bomb.

  “It must be very hard,” she commented sympathetically. “I don’t know what it’s like personally, of course, but I know people… several here in Hollywood… who have to be discreet. For such members of the community, the acting can’t stop when the camera stops rolling, unfortunately.”

  Lorewyn and Rhianyn looked at each other, not quite sure at first, but fearing she might be referring to…

  “You don’t owe me any explanation, either one of you,” Hunter said again. “I’m just saying that I can imagine it’s difficult, and that engenders a great deal of respect for both of you. Like I told Liv a while back… some things a lady doesn’t tell.”

  A month later, Hunter got the news. She had been blacklisted on account of suspicions of being a Communist by the HUAC. She didn’t get a chance to defend herself. She was effectively banned from films for the next four years. No studio would work with her. Lorewyn was furious.

  “McCarthy!” she seethed to Rhianyn shortly after it happened. “This Cold War… what a name for it, Cold War? Is that because we’re fighting it in the snow? Well, if this is how they engage in their dirty warfare, then I’d rather they just bring out the troops, launch the missiles, and get the whole damn thing over with already! Put the Human race, both eastern and western blocs, out of their misery!”

  She was upset, and Rhianyn knew this. Her wife would normally not talk in such a way. She tried to offer some solace.

  “Weather the storm, Yellowfeather,” she reassured her. “You always do, every time… and if you need a safe port for a while, you know I’m here.”

  But the storm got worse. Zanuck called Lorewyn into his office about a week after Hunter’s blacklisting.

  “There’s a rumor going around that Alivia Chambers, well known and contracted stuntwoman with 20th Century Fox, is not only a friend of and associates with members of the Communist Party USA, but is also a lesbian,” he stated evenly. Zanuck moved a paper that had been on his desk toward her. “As studio head, it’s my obligation to report such things to the Motion Picture Association so that they can inform the House Committee.” He paused, giving Lorewyn a scrutinizing look. “Now, I’m not saying these rumors are true… I’m merely saying that I’m very uncomfortable having such rumors being spread regarding someone connected with this studio and certainly one of the finest stunt doubles in the business. So, I’m going to take matters in my own hands before making any phone calls. I think it would be a good idea if you requested that your contract be terminated. Fox studios won’t resist… your request will be honored, and you’ll no longer be working here. I believe that this course of action would be in the best interest of all parties involved… wouldn’t you agree, Miss Chambers?”

  Lorewyn glared at Zanuck angrily, but it was clear that she had no other viable choice. She signed the document, making the request in writing. Her contract was terminated, and Lorewyn was released from her work with Fox after a little more than a decade of exceptional service.

  It stung… a lot. Lorewyn had initially found the idea a bit silly, a fluke, a result of her once pulling a rather routine (at least for her) move on a horse twenty years ago. But as time went on, she had grown to truly love being a stuntwoman in Hollywood. It was perfect for her, and for hers and Rhianyn’s situation. She was a name known only within the circles where it mattered, a reference made in small writing in the end credits of films, and her face was essentially unrecognized by the general public. But she got to work with the most interesting people, got to do some things in the realm of “fantas
y” that she had once experienced in reality, and she was good at her job. Damn good.

  She would talk with Rhianyn about her feelings on the matter, but Lorewyn spent a lot of time by herself in the next few weeks, some of it writing actually.

  A phone call came unexpectedly right before the holidays. It was Whitney Ellsworth, a producer and writer whom Lorewyn had met a couple years earlier.

  “Liv… how would you feel about doing stunt work on television?” he asked.

  Lorewyn had been exclusively a motion picture stunt double. Television had just started to make its mark on the entertainment industry, and a lot of Americans still didn’t have a television set. Lorewyn and Rhianyn had talked about getting one, but they didn’t see much of a point.

  “We get news and serials on the radio,” Rhianyn had commented.

  “And if we feel like getting some entertainment on screen, we can just go to the cinema,” Lorewyn had added.

  Nothing they were interested in watching was on television… yet. I Love Lucy was funny and popular, but it wasn’t really their cup of tea.

  Lorewyn was curious. “Television?” she exclaimed to Ellsworth over the phone. “What on television needs a stuntwoman?”

  Ellsworth explained. It was a new serial based on a comic book. They had produced a B-movie earlier in the year as a pilot, and the results were favorable. The company was ready to go for a motion picture-styled serial, but aired on television, a new concept. Filmed in black and white to accommodate the television technology, although they were discussing the possibility of color down the line.

  “A televised program in color?” Lorewyn was skeptical.

  “It’s a future project,” Ellsworth continued. “The important thing right now is that we have our cast, we’re lined up to film the complete first season serials, but we’re missing one thing. We need a stuntwoman to handle some action that our leading actress might have some trouble with. The two primary male actors involved, George Reeves and Jack Larson, have made it clear that they can handle their own stunts. Reeves in particular has his work cut out for him. But our actress, Phyllis Coates, has some scenes in the series where she’s in danger or has to deal with physical confrontation, kind of Fay Wray style. And that made me think of you, Liv. Bottom line, you’re the best in the business.”

  “Mr. Ellsworth, I’m flattered, really,” Lorewyn said humbly, “but I don’t know if you’ve followed the news lately… no studio is going to hire me.”

  “That’s the beauty of this,” Ellsworth stated. “We’re independent, partnered with Motion Pictures for Television, Inc. I’ve spoken with the producer, Bob Maxwell, and already got the green light to hire you. One season only for starters. Short contract. If you like it, we’ll keep you on. If not, you can walk after the first 24 episodes. I just want you on board. Blacklisting or not, you’re experienced, you’re professional, you don’t drink on the job like most of the others, and you’ve got the reputation for working well with the actresses. In fact, someone you know gave you a very positive reference on your behalf, making it clear that I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t offer you the job.”

  Lorewyn smiled to herself. Kim, she thought.

  “Just one last question, and I need you to be honest with me,” Ellsworth concluded. “Do you feel up to it?”

  Lorewyn’s smile faded. “Do I feel up to it? And what exactly does that mean?”

  She accepted the job, but later that evening Rhianyn found her looking intently into the bathroom mirror. Lorewyn told her what Ellsworth had said.

  “Blackbird, it hit me that I’ve been in the business for two full decades now. We left New York before this became an issue, but when I got hired with RKO as a temp, I listed my date of birth as April 9, 1907, age 25 at the time. Alivia Chambers is now a woman in her mid-40’s. No wonder he asked if I felt up to it! To him and others, I’m past my prime in the business, even though physically I’m basically the same when I first started stunt work. Even if I wanted to, even if opportunities continued to present themselves, I can’t realistically keep this up much longer without drawing suspicion… and I’m going to have to use a bit of magical effect to modify the appearance of my age, to make me look like a Human of appropriate years. I know we’ve done this before many times in Europe, but… oh, Blackbird… this gets tiring after a while!”

  Rhianyn came up behind her, looking into the mirror with her, wrapping her arms around her wife’s waist and hugging her. “I was thinking kind of the same thing a while back,” she admitted. “I know, my records as Antonia Blackstone place my birthdate as June 29, 1905. It didn’t really hit me until last week when a boy on a tour at the observatory asked my age. It seems to be a pattern… once again, I wished I had a tree nearby for reference.” Lorewyn chuckled at her remark. “His mother slapped him on the head, but I could see his point. The stuff I mention sometimes in those tours about my aviation experience… it betrays me in some ways, I guess. Anyone doing the math, and this kid was one of those brainy types… he must’ve been wondering how a chick who looks the way I do could be 46! I suppose I’ll have to start phasing in the use of some magical aging effect as well… in addition to maintaining the ears.” She brushed her hand past the side of her head, moving a bit of her long raven-dark hair aside, revealing her pointed Elven ears that she allowed to be visible at home, in private, with only her and Lorewyn present.

  Lorewyn smiled, turning and embracing Rhianyn as well, then moving her lips up to her left ear and kissing it gently.

  “You never have to hide your true beautiful ageless face with me,” she whispered, “and that includes your delicious ears that I love so much!”

  ***

  The announcer’s voiceover for the opening credits was wrapping up simultaneously with the conclusion of the upbeat fanfare-styled musical introduction:

  … fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way!

  And now, another exciting episode in the…

  The reel for the credits ended as the series’ producer, Bob Maxwell, threw the door open, bursting into the projector room. Following him, equally rushed, were Lorewyn, Whitney Ellsworth, and George Reeves. The film tech who was working the reel turned, startled, as Maxwell looked at him.

  “You… out!” he ordered, pointing toward the door.

  The young operator didn’t hesitate, running out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Maxwell glared at Lorewyn.

  “That’s twice now, Chambers!” he exclaimed angrily. “First, you knock Frank Richards to the ground after that incident in Night of Terror, then you deliberately slap the bejeezus out of John Eldredge after that minor mishap with the building ledge…”

  “Minor mishap?” Lorewyn returned, just as heated. “Look, Mr. Maxwell, Richards was supposed to pretend knock me out. We did it with Phyllis in the first take, but he accidentally cold-cocked her in the face! So, I stood in for her on take-two. Well, his fist hit my face that time… yes, I hit him back! Once, I can understand. Accident. Twice? Either the guy’s got a problem with women or he’s just clumsy. And Eldredge’s blunder was a joke… I won’t even try to offer a plausible alternative. The man outweighs me by nearly a hundred pounds! There’s no way in hell that you can tell me that he just ‘let go’ because I slipped out of his grasp. He dropped me… deliberately! I was looking right at him… I saw his expression. He knew what he was doing. And it’s a damn good thing we weren’t using the actual top story of the building, and it’s also a damn good thing that I know some tricks to minimize fall damage. As far as me ‘slapping the bejeezus’ out of him, he got off easy!”

  “In all fairness, Bob,” Reeves spoke up, “those men had it coming to them. Miss Chambers is a stuntwoman, yes, but she’s not indestructible. She’s certainly not Superman… and I should know!”

  “She can only hope that Richards and Eldredge don’t press assault charges on her!” Maxwell stated.

  “Press charges on a woman for standing up for herself?” Lore
wyn clarified cynically. “For being able to put two sizable healthy grown men in their place? That would be an interesting case indeed. I wonder how their chauvinistic egos would handle that one!”

  Both Ellsworth and Reeves had to stifle a chuckle. Maxwell wasn’t amused.

  “You’ve been a liability on this set the moment you set foot on it,” he continued, still looking at Lorewyn.

  “And the truth shall set you free!” Lorewyn exclaimed. “There it is, at last. Liability! A word well-chosen, sir. You saw me as a liability the moment I set foot on this set… the stuntwoman who had to leave Fox after ten solid years because of rumors and hearsay. Blacklisted with the rest of them who have a mind of their own but won’t cow-tow to legalistic narrow-minded fear-mongering pressure! The Communist… proof? None, of course, but that doesn’t matter. The Lesbian… and what if I am? Any idea how many men who identify openly as heterosexual in this business live secret lives with male lovers? I’ve been working in Hollywood for twenty years, Mr. Maxwell. Believe me, sir, I could tell you a few things that would turn you whiter than Great Caesar’s Ghost himself!”

  Maxwell just looked at both Ellsworth and Reeves for a moment, then resumed his address to Lorewyn. “Miss Coates has already informed us of her intent not to return next season. We’ve found another actress to play Lois Lane. Your services will no longer be required for next season or any season after that. We’re done here.”

  He strutted off and out of the room, but not before hearing Lorewyn’s final remark to him. “Oh, we most certainly are… yes indeed.”

  When Maxwell had left, Ellsworth sighed and spoke to Lorewyn. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Liv. I understand where you’re coming from… I really do. But I’m not calling the shots right now. I’m just writing, not producing.”