The Hollywood Book of Death: The Bizarre, Often Sordid, Passings of More than 125 American Movie and TV Idols

by Parish, James Robert

  Sonny Bono on the town.

  © 1991 by Albert L. Ortega

  By 1974, the novelty of their TV show was wearing off—for both the couple and the public. That spring, the Bonos announced that they were separating and ending their TV series. The next year, Cher wed rock singer Gregg Allman. (That union would be short-lived, although it produced their son, Elijah Blue, born in September 1976.) Sonny and Cher buried the hatchet after their solo TV shows failed, reteaming for a last-hurrah series in 1976. But viewers were no longer charmed, and the program went off the air in 1977.

  On his own, Sonny stayed afloat by making appearances on other TV series and in schlocky TV movies. In 1982, he married Susie Coelho, but the union fell apart by 1984. In the mid-1980s, he had his own restaurant, Bono, located in West Hollywood. There Sonny, age 50, met the 22-year-old Mary Whitaker, a recent University of Southern California graduate whom he wed in 1986. The couple moved to Palm Springs, California, where Sonny opened a new Italian restaurant.

  In 1987, Sonny registered as a Republican so he could vote for the first time, a sign of things to come. In 1988, the year John Waters hired him for a solid role in the fun movie Hairspray, Sonny and Cher reunited on David Letterman’s late-night talk show. They wowed viewers when they sang their trademark number, “I Got You, Babe.” Also that year, to the bewilderment of pundits everywhere, Sonny ran for mayor of Palm Springs—and won. He took the job seriously, garnering a great deal of publicity for both himself and the city along the way. His political career did have a setback in 1989, when angry constituents tried for a recall vote, upset about their mayor doing beer commercials. His autobiography, And the Beat Goes On, was published in 1991.

  Excited by the world of politics, Sonny ran for the Senate on the Republican ticket, but he lost the race. Undaunted, he made a bid for Congress in 1994 and won this time. When he began his congressional job, it was estimated that this millionaire was 1 of the 50 richest members of the 104th Congress. Sonny purchased a $684,000 house in Georgetown for himself, Mary, and their children, Cesare (age seven) and Chianna (age four). All he had to do now was earn the respect of his peers in Congress—and the approval of Cher—for once again, she was making cracks to the media about Sonny’s new career. One of his first tasks as a congressman was to serve as chairman of the House’s Entertainment Industry Task Force.

  During the Christmas holiday in 1997, Sonny was at home in Palm Springs with his family. In early January 1998, Sonny and Mary took their two children to Lake Tahoe for a vacation at the Heavenly Resort. On January 5, they were out on the slopes of South Lake Tahoe on the Upper Orion ski run. About 1:30 P.M., the family was skiing on an intermediate slope. Chianna took a slight tumble, and Mary and Cesare stopped to assist her. Sonny told Mary he was going to go down in another direction, and then skied off the path and in among the trees—which adept skiers often do.

  Thereafter, no one heard anything from Sonny. But six hours later, news came that a body had been found on the mountain. Mary demanded to be taken to the site, and her worst fears proved to be true when she saw Sonny’s frozen face. He had died of massive head injuries from skiing head-on into a 40-foot-high pine tree.

  At the time, it was a mystery why Sonny would have done what he did on the slopes. There was speculation that he might have been high, but there was no official evidence of drug or alcohol abuse. But, as his wife would tell TV Guide magazine in November 1998, “When he died, his blood level was in the therapeutic range for Vicodin and Valium. He had taken what had been prescribed legitimately by a doctor. But you know these drugs come with a warning, DO NOT OPERATE MACHINERY or whatever.”

  A private service for family and friends was held on Wednesday, January 7, in Palm Springs at Sonny’s home. The public funeral was that Friday at St. Theresa Roman Catholic Church. A large color portrait of a grinning Sonny was positioned near his flagdraped, $10,000 mahogany casket. There were 1,400 mourners. (Another 2,500 stood in the rain outside, listening to the service on a loudspeaker.) Attendees from the political world included former Vice President Dan Quayle, House Speaker Newt Gingrich, former President Gerald Ford, and California Governor Pete Wilson. Entertainers Suzanne Somers, Tony Orlando, Jerry Vale, Jack Scalia, and Morton Downey Jr. were on hand.

  Cher provided a teary eulogy in which she said, “Some people were under the misconception that Sonny was a short man, but he was heads and tails taller than anyone else.” She also noted: “What people don’t realize is that he created Sonny and Cher.... He had the confidence to be the butt of the joke because he created the joke.” After the Mass, a procession of hundreds of cars drove to the cemetery at Desert Memorial Park. There, Sonny was given a 21-gun salute by a military honor guard because he had been a member of Congress. Mary Bono and their children then released dozens of doves into the sky; finally, each member of Sonny’s family placed a red rose on the coffin. Cher, among others, did the same. The deceased was then interred at the cemetery in section B-35.

  During the week of mourning after Sonny’s death, Cher spent much time at Sonny’s Spanish-style villa in the hills above Palm Springs. She and Mary comforted one another and their children. The media jumped on Sonny’s passing, and it became a prolonged three-ring circus, with everyone vying to say who cared for the late entertainer more, and in what way. (Mary Bono admitted to the press that her marriage to Sonny “was a very difficult 12 years of my life.” In contrast, Cher, who had been in London at the time her ex-husband died, said, “He was the love of my life. . . . There has never been another man in my life like him.”)

  To the surprise of many, Mary chose to run for the special election (which was held on April 7, 1998) to serve the rest of her husband’s term in Congress. She won and became a highly visible participant on Capitol Hill. Then there was the question of Sonny’s new will, which he had drawn up weeks before his death, but never signed. It would have named Mary sole executor of the large estate. Instead, she was appointed administrator.

  There seemed to be a rush of Sonny & Cher creative projects after his death. Cher hosted a very sentimental one-hour TV special, Sonny & Me, which aired in May 1998. Her own autobiography, The First Time, was published that fall. In February 1999 came the television movie, And the Beat Goes On: The Sonny and Cher Story, based on Sonny’s earlier book. It featured Jay Underwood and Renee Faia as the famous couple. Sonny’s widow was a producer and consultant on the film, but oddly enough, Cher was not. There was also the documentary The Life and Times of Sonny Bono (1999), a profile of the prolific songwriter, entrepreneur, and politician.

  Despite the tremendous worldwide hoopla when he passed away, Sonny Bono was astute enough to know that eminence is relatively fleeting. A few years before he died, he had this to say about clinging to fame: “You’re just borrowing it. It’s like money. You’re going to die, and somebody else is going to get it.”

  Jeff Chandler

  [Ira Grossel]

  December 15, 1918–June 17, 1961

  Ruggedly handsome, six-foot, four-inch Jeff Chandler was only 42 years old when he died. The square-jawed hunk, with prematurely gray, curly hair and chiseled features, was the picture of health until he suffered a slipped disk while making Merrill’s Marauders (1961), a World War II combat movie. Simple corrective surgery was performed at a Culver City, California, hospital. The strapping patient should have been up and about in no time. Due to medical misadventure, however, he died.

  The future actor was born Ira Grossel in Brooklyn. He was raised by his mother after his parents separated. He attended local Erasmus Hall High School (where the future screen star Susan Hayward was a classmate). Certain he wanted a career in the creative arts, he took art courses and then enrolled briefly at the Feagin School of Dramatic Art in New York City. He negotiated a job with a Long Island stock company, first as a stagehand and then as an actor. In 1941, Grossel and a pal began a little theater company (the Shady Lane Playhouse) in Elgin, Illinois. However, after Pearl Harbor brought the United States i
nto World War II, he joined the army, where he was stationed mostly in the Aleutian Islands.

  By the end of 1945, he was a civilian living in Los Angeles. While doing a radio job, he was discovered by Dick Powell and given a small role in Powell’s Johnny O’Clock (1947). By now he was known as Jeff Chandler and spent much of the next two years on radio in shows like Mr. Dana; Michael Shayne, Detective; and as Eve Arden’s love interest in Our Miss Brooks. Universal Pictures cast him as an Israeli leader in Sword in the Desert (1949), where his masculine looks registered strongly with moviegoers. He joined the studio’s roster of young leading men, which included Tony Curtis and Rock Hudson.

  In 1950 Chandler was cast in the first of several Native American roles (as Cochise) in Broken Arrow, starring Jimmy Stewart. Chandler was Oscar-nominated for his three-dimensional performance. As a Universal contract player, he plowed through several action pictures. Along the way, he developed a real screen magnetism and played opposite several smoldering leading ladies: Jane Russell (Foxfire, 1955), Jeanne Crain (The Tattered Dress, 1958), and Susan Hayward (Thunder in the Sun, 1959).

  Jeff Chandler showing his serious side in a publicity pose from the late 1950s. Courtesy of JC Archives

  Always ambitious, Jeff was constantly proving himself. Having shown he could play a range of roles on camera, he broke into the recording industry and signed a contract in 1954 with Decca Records, completing several singles and an album. In May 1957, he appeared at the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas as a vocalist. In addition, Chandler, who played the violin and wrote music, started his own music publishing company. Likewise, as many stars in the 1950s did, he formed his own movie production company to produce films such as Drango (1957).

  Jeff had married actress Marjorie Hoshelle in 1946, and they had two daughters (Jamie and Dana). The couple separated in 1954 but then reconciled. In late 1957, Jeff and aquatic movie star Esther Williams (herself recently divorced) costarred together in Raw Wind in Eden (1958) and became very good friends. They saved most of their passion for off camera and, in 1959, Hoshelle sued Chandler for divorce. Ironically, by 1960 when the decree became final, Jeff and Esther had drifted apart.

  Chandler continued to turn out movies and went on location to the Philippines for Merrill’s Marauders in early 1961. When he returned to Los Angeles, he underwent surgery on May 13 for the slipped disk. Following the relatively uncomplicated operation, he suffered internal hemorrhages and infection. During an emergency seven-hour follow-up operation to repair a ruptured artery, he was given 55 pints of blood. He survived that and further surgery, but another hemorrhage and subsequent additional infections weakened him. He took a turn for the worse on Friday, June 16, and died the next afternoon of a generalized blood infection further complicated by pneumonia. This needless tragedy was the talk of Hollywood.

  After funeral services on June 19, 1961, at Temple Isiah in Los Angeles, Chandler’s body was taken to Hillside Memorial Park for private interment. Among the pallbearers were Jeff’s baseball pals Hoby Landrith and Bill Rigney, as well as actor Tony Curtis. On behalf of their children, his ex-wife brought legal action against the hospital where Jeff had been treated. Eventually, an out-of-court settlement was reached.

  With Chandler’s passing, Hollywood had lost three major leading men in the course of a few short months: Clark Gable (November 16, 1960), Gary Cooper (May 13, 1961), and Jeff.

  Decades passed, and thanks to television and video rentals, Jeff Chandler’s many movies continued to entertain new generations of fans. Then in September 1999 came Esther Williams’s 416-page autobiography, The Million Dollar Mermaid. It was filled with dish about her former MGM bosses and costars, as well as anecdotes about her welcomed (Fernando Lamas, Victor Mature) and unwanted (Johnny Weissmuller) amours. Esther’s hefty tome caused the most sensation with its revelation that she ended her long-ago romance with Jeff Chandler when she discovered that he was a crossdresser. (According to her, she cracked to the bewildered actor, “Jeff, you’re too big for polka dots.”) Whatever the truth of her recollections, this published “exposure” infuriated the old guard of Hollywood—as well as many young enthusiasts of the late star—who felt this outing should have been left in the closet.

  Laird Cregar

  [Samuel Laird Cregar]

  July 28, 1916–December 9, 1944

  Maybe if there had been a Jennie Craig Weight Reduction Clinic or a Richard Simmons video in the 1940s, six-foot, three-inch, three-hundred-pound Laird Cregar would have lived to a ripe old age. He was a talented screen performer who became obsessed with his obesity and embarked on a crash diet. His Gandhi-like starvation routine was too much for his system to take.

  He was born in Philadelphia in 1916, the youngest of six sons of Edward M. Cregar. Like his father had, Samuel Laird attended school at Winchester Academy in England where, during summer vacations, he worked as a page for the Stratford-upon-Avon Players, sometimes allowed to be a walk-on in their productions. These experiences whetted the boy’s appetite for acting as a career. After further schooling, he took up full-time acting in local stock companies. He won a scholarship to the Pasadena Community Playhouse in 1936 where he spent two years honing his craft. He recalled later, “Whenever I went to a place for a job they seemed scared of my size.”

  Discouraged, he went east in 1938 to work at the Federal Theatre, but later returned to California to appear at the Pasadena Playhouse in The American Family. Despite decent reviews, no film company took notice of this massive actor. Realizing he must wangle his own showcase, Cregar found backing for a Hollywood production of Oscar Wilde and starred in it. The drama was a hit in both Los Angeles and San Francisco. Finally, the movie studios wanted him.

  Laird Cregar, the star of Hangover Square (1944).

  Courtesy of JC Archives

  After a few screen bits, he accepted Twentieth Century-Fox’s offer of a contract. Cregar was a brawling fur trapper in Hudson’s Bay (1940). In Jack Benny’s farce Charley’s Aunt (1941), Laird displayed an excellent flair for comedy. Fox cast him next as the jealous, sinister detective pathetically in love with a murdered girl in I Wake Up Screaming (1941). His performance was so effective that it sealed his fate as an actor—he would play screen villains forever after.

  Cregar played a conniving nightclub owner dealing with pint-sized Alan Ladd in This Gun for Hire (1942). Commenting on this splashy assignment, Laird confessed (tongue-in-cheek), “I didn’t like it because it’s a mammoth man who is afraid of violence. You’ve no idea how much physical work it requires of a large man to quake like jelly.” In Rings on Her Fingers (1942), the studio wardrobe department had the challenge of constructing a bathing suit for the hulking Cregar to use as he dove into a swimming pool on camera. Never slowing down (and compensating for his lack of a conventional social life), the homosexual Cregar found time to work at the Hollywood Canteen as a busboy and to play Sheridan Whiteside in an L.A. stage edition of The Man Who Came to Dinner. His greatest movie success came in the Gothic thriller The Lodger (1944) as a wily Jack the Ripper. The movie was so popular that Fox immediately repeated the formula with Hangover Square (1945). This time, the corpulent star was a schizophrenic composer who commits murder and obsesses over the beautiful Linda Darnell.

  Having completed Hangover Square in late 1944, Laird zealously pursued his dieting. He dreamed of becoming a more traditional leading man. After losing one hundred pounds, his system rebelled, leading to abdominal surgery. A few days later, on the morning of December 9, 1944, the 28-year-old Cregar suffered a fatal heart attack. He was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California, in the Court of Freedom. The film industry had lost a major talent to a diet mania.

  Linda Darnell

  [Monetta Eloyse Darnell]

  October 16, 1923–April 10, 1965

  If any celebrity ever had a strange premonition of her disastrous future, it was the gorgeous Linda Darnell, star of Forever Amber (1947). She had a lifelong fear of fire. In Anna and the King of Siam (1946
), her screen role required her to be burned at the stake. The sequence terrified her, but it was necessary to the plotline. While shooting it, she was injured slightly, and she later told reporters, “Never again. Next time I prefer being stabbed or shot. At least that kind of dying is painless.” Nineteen years later—in real life—this great natural beauty was burned to death in a horrible inferno.

  Linda’s mother, Maggie Pearl Brown, had grown up in Clifton, Tennessee, always dreaming of becoming an actress. Those plans were discarded for the practicality of marriage. She had two children with her first husband before they divorced. In 1915, 20-year-old Pearl married Roy Darnell, a postal worker from Dallas, Texas. In the next 14 years, the couple had four children. Their second, Monetta Eloyse, was born on October 16, 1923 (studio press releases would state that her birth year was 1921 to make the teenager seem older). The frustrated Pearl—the name she preferred—soon settled her show-business aspirations on Monetta. By age 11, the pretty teen had physically matured enough to pass for much older and thus was able to obtain department-store modeling jobs, including work at Neiman Marcus.

  When her daughter was 14, a Twentieth Century-Fox talent scout passed through Dallas and Pearl badgered him with photos of Monetta. He brushed the woman off, but she followed him to Hollywood with Monetta in tow. The studio felt Monetta was too young and sent mother and daughter packing. At home in Texas, Pearl engineered Monetta’s entry into a talent contest and soon they were in Los Angeles again. But the RKO studio let the young girl sit out the option period without any work, and it was back to Texas once more.