Hollywood's Unhappiest Endings: Legends Never Die Updated

by Les MacDonald

  Heather O'Rourke

  Beloved Daughter and Sister

  Dec. 27/75 - Feb.1/88

  Carol Anne - Poltergeist I, II and III

  Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle (1887-1933)

  Tears of a Clown

  Roscoe Conkling Arbuckle weighed in at a whopping sixteen pounds when he was born on March 24, 1887 in Smith Center, Kansas. The delivery almost killed his mother as you can well imagine. She would live on for twelve more years but was always in poor health. Roscoe's father William, a wheat farmer, was an alcoholic with a terrible temper who never missed an opportunity to blame his wife's ill health on his young son.

  William was having all kinds of financial trouble when a bad drought made things even worse. When Roscoe was only two years old the family was packed up and moved to Santa Ana, California. When things did not go well there William relocated himself to San Jose in effect abandoning his family. His fortunes would improve but he did not send dollar one back to his family. To help his mom Roscoe actually began doing odd jobs by the time he was five years old.

  School was not a happy experience for young Roscoe. He had continued to grow at an alarming rate and, well, kids can be cruel. He was nicknamed "Fatty" before he was out of the first grade. It was a nickname that he hated and he would quit school before completing grade two. While his mother thought he was attending school, young Roscoe was sneaking into theaters and watching vaudeville performers rehearse. When he was eight years old he was given a bit part in a vaudeville show in Santa Ana at fifty cents a week for three weeks. The players treated him with affection which was something that Roscoe had craved since being abandoned by his father. Roscoe's mother however was a very religious woman who questioned the morals of the "theater people." She made Roscoe promise to return to school and to stay away from the theater. It was a promise that Roscoe would keep right up until his mother died when he was twelve years old.

  When his mother passed away Roscoe was packed up and sent off to San Jose to reunite with his father. William, however, wanted nothing to do with his young son and promptly left town. Twelve year old Roscoe was all alone in San Jose. A hotel owner offered him accommodations in return for doing odd jobs around the hotel. One day a visitor to the hotel heard Roscoe singing while he worked and got the owner's permission to let Roscoe skip work so that he could perform in Amateur Night at the Empire Theater. Roscoe was an instant hit winning the five dollar prize. Word reached theater owner David Grauman who offered Roscoe a job singing at his Unique Theater in San Jose for eighteen dollars a week. The job came with perks as Roscoe also earned about ten bucks a night in tips as a singing waiter. It wasn't exactly a king's ransom but at the turn of the century it wasn't too shabby. Roscoe worked fairly steady through his teens earning enough to get by on and, more importantly, meeting and making connections with men like Grauman and Alexander Pantages.

  Then love came calling. Roscoe met Minta Durfee who was an eighteen year old with acting ambitions of her own. Roscoe was immediately attracted to Minta and worked her into some of his shows usually resulting in the pair singing together. The two were married on August 6, 1908. The following year Roscoe found work at the Selig Polyscope Company. One day he was walking through the Keystone Studios and ran into the legendary founder of the Keystone Kops, Mack Sennett. Sennett offered Roscoe some work but was generally unimpressed. It was Sennet's girlfriend, Mabel Normand, who stood up for Roscoe. In 1913 he would become one of the famous Keystone Kops. It was actually Roscoe and Mabel who performed cinema's very first pie in the face routine. A century later and a pie in the face still rates a good laugh. Roscoe was well on his way to becoming Hollywood's top comic with his only serious competition coming from Charlie Chaplin. He continued to make a successful series of one-reelers with Mabel Normand and Minta. By now his weight was fluctuating between two hundred and fifty and three hundred pounds but he was always able to move about athletically, shifting his weight with often hilarious results.

  By 1917 things were going very well and they got even better when Roscoe signed a five year contract with Joe Schenck that would end up being worth a million dollars a year. Don't forget, this was when the average wage in the United States was ten dollars a week. Roscoe negotiated the deal in secret without even telling Minta. Minta's name did not appear in the contract while she had thought that she would be appearing with her husband forever. Roscoe had now hit the big time and it appeared that Minta was not going to be invited along for the ride. It was around this time that Roscoe met Buster Keaton for the first time. The two would become fast friends and notorious pranksters. It would be Keaton who would prove to be Roscoe's biggest booster in the dark days still to come.

  Roscoe Arbuckle, who had grown up so poor, was now living large. A five-reeler titled The Life of the Party led to another feature The Traveling Salesman and then to Brewster's Millions. The public couldn't get enough so Roscoe plunged himself into his work completing two more feature films by January, 1921. Later that year he bought himself a custom built Pierce-Arrow. The car was huge and came with a complete bar in the back seat. Roscoe simply said that he needed a car that was four times the average size of a regular car because he was four times the size of an average guy. By now Roscoe needed a break from his hectic schedule and decided to throw a big party on the Labor Day weekend in San Francisco. Three rooms were booked at the St. Francis Hotel. On arrival in the city the group did some sightseeing and drinking. These were the days of Prohibition but bootleg booze was always available to anyone that was willing to pay for it. Roscoe was more than willing and able. At the same time Virginia Rappe and her friend Maude Delmont checked into the Palace Hotel in the same city. Virginia claimed to be an actress but records show that she appeared in nothing more than bit parts that went uncredited. It was common knowledge that Virginia was at the very least a part time prostitute. Her friend Maude claimed to be a model. A check of her past shows that she was more well known to the police than she was to any modeling agency. Her resume included fraud, bigamy and extortion. Trouble was brewing in San Francisco.

  No one took the credit for inviting Virginia and Maude to the party. It seems likely that they had heard about the bash through the Hollywood grapevine and decided to crash it. Both women drank heavily at the party. Delmont paired off with Lowell Sherman, a friend of Roscoe's. Meanwhile, Roscoe went to his room but could not open the door to the bathroom. That was because Virginia Rappe was on her knees in front of the toilet vomiting. Roscoe picked her up and carried her to the bed at which time Virginia started screaming in pain. Roscoe could tell that she had a fever and left to get some ice. By now Maude had finished her tryst with Sherman and heard the screaming coming from Roscoe's room. When she opened the door Virginia allegedly screamed out, "Roscoe did this to me." A hotel doctor was called and came to the conclusion that Virginia had just drank too much. The hotel detective checked out the party and, finding nothing amiss, he left. Roscoe then left the party himself. Another doctor was called in when Virginia woke up screaming again. This doctor gave her morphine for the pain and he also left. The next day Maude then called another doctor. Dr. Melville Rumwell knew both women and agreed to take over. When Virginia awoke she said that all she could remember was Roscoe carrying her over to the bed. The doctor found no evidence of any physical abuse. A nurse was brought in to sit with Virginia. A day later she left thinking that there was little or no use for her services. Roscoe and his entourage checked out of the hotel on Tuesday and took the ferry back to Los Angeles. It was on this ferry ride that Roscoe would meet Doris Deane who would later become the second Mrs. Arbuckle.

  Meanwhile, back in San Francisco, a second nurse was now tending to the ailing Virginia Rappe. She too departed when Maude refused to call Dr. Rumwell to come back. Rumwell did come back on his own the next day but the worst had already happened. Virginia was comatose. The doctor knew that Virginia would not survive an operation in her weakened condition. He treated her with large doses of antibiotics to fight th
e infection from what he now believed to be a ruptured bladder. He also gave her opium for the pain. The drugs were a classic case of too little too late. Virginia died on Friday, September 9. An autopsy concluded that Virginia had died from acute peritonitis caused by a ruptured bladder. Now here is where it becomes a bit of a sticky wicket. It was the good Dr. Rumwell, along with an associate Dr. Ophuls, who performed the autopsy illegally without consulting the San Francisco Coroner's Office. They also removed the uterus and the bladder and had them destroyed. By now Maude Delmont was telling her story to anyone who would listen. Her story was that Roscoe had brutally raped Virginia causing the injuries that resulted in her death. The SFPD turned out to be very avid listeners and within days Roscoe returned to San Francisco for questioning. Within days, and much to his shock, Roscoe was charged with manslaughter. One would think that things could not get much worse for Roscoe but one would be wrong. William Randolph Hearst controlled a massive newspaper empire from his San Simeon castle. He just loved a good story and with this one he smelled blood. Headlines began appearing condemning Roscoe and the court of public opinion turned swiftly against the comic. Theaters began dumping Arbuckle films and the studio moguls did their best to distance themselves from Roscoe and his troubles.

  The trial began with the prosecution having a major problem. Maude Delmont was the main witness against Roscoe but the trouble was that she never told the same story twice. Eventually the district attorney decided against even having her testify. Roscoe was the last witness called and took the stand in his own defence. It looked good for the defence but the jury could not reach a unanimous verdict. The jury voted 10-2 in favor of acquittal but were hopelessly deadlocked. For reasons known only to the prosecution, they refused to give up and re-filed the charges. There would be a second trial with a new jury. The defence, for some strange reason, changed their tactics and in the second trial they attacked Virginia's character. They claimed that she was a heavy drinker, had a very low moral standard and had attempted to sleep her way into a movie career. All of this was undeniably true but attacking the victim backfired with the jury. This time the new jury voted 10-2 to convict but were once again hopelessly deadlocked. The unfortunate comic would have yet another dance with the California justice system.

  At the end of the third trial the jury deliberated for all of ten minutes. That has got to be some kind of record. The jury foreman read a statement lamenting the injustice that had been done to Roscoe saying that there was absolutely no evidence to suggest that he had committed any crime. Years later a version of the events came to be regarded as pretty close to the truth. Dr. Rumwell, who had been acquainted with the two women well before the party, had performed several abortions on Virginia. Let's just say that he was not the most skilled abortionist and that one of his hatchet jobs likely ruptured Virginia's bladder. This would explain his speedy, illegal autopsy and the destruction of the organs which would have cleared Roscoe and shown the doctor's own culpability.

  While Roscoe may have been a free man, the blacklist remained in effect. Thirty years before the infamous Hollywood blacklist by the House Un-American Activities Committee, Hollywood was blacklisting one of their own. Minta, who had returned to support Roscoe during the trials, now lobbied for him to be able to return to the work that he had loved. He was able to work in a few nightclubs but was still denied work by the studios. Roscoe and Minta attempted a reconciliation but their time had come and gone. When the divorce became final he married Doris Deane, the woman he had met on the ferry on the way home from the infamous party in San Francisco. Buster Keaton, who had stood up for Roscoe during the trials, now stood up for him again as his best man. Unfortunately, the marriage did not last. The pressure of trying to rebuild his career proved to be too much. Doris didn't blame Roscoe. Once again Roscoe faced a divorce but remained friends with Doris just as he had with Minta.

  In 1932, eleven years after the death of Virginia Rappe, Jack Warner called Roscoe. Warner wanted him for a series of two-reelers which, if successful, would return Roscoe to feature films. Finally it appeared that all was forgiven. Roscoe made two successful films, Hey Pop and Buzzin' Around. Roscoe was back and the sky was the limit. He even found love one more time, marrying Addie MacPhail. Things were certainly looking up for the comic but fate would have none of it. Roscoe and Addie went out to celebrate. The next morning, Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle did not wake up. He had suffered a massive heart attack during his sleep. His great friend Buster Keaton said that Roscoe had died from a broken heart. He was just forty-six years old.

  Roscoe's first wife Minta appeared in films in seven different decades in a host of bit parts. Her last appearance was in 1971's horror flick Willard. She died in 1975 at the age of eighty-five. Doris Deane, the second Mrs. Arbuckle, quit the movies altogether when Roscoe died. Her last movie was Marriage Vows which was directed by Roscoe. Roscoe's third wife, Addie MacPhail, lived to be ninety-seven years old. His friend and fellow comic Buster Keaton had a steady career with his last movie being A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum. He died in 1965 at the age of seventy.

  Roscoe was cremated and his ashes were scattered in the Pacific Ocean.

  Gig Young (1913-1978)

  It Hurts Everywhere

  We have all heard the old saying about money not being able to buy happiness. Well, it would appear that Oscar can't guarantee it either. This is the story of Academy Award winner Gig Young and the demons that eventually contributed to another one of Hollywood's Unhappiest Endings.

  Gig was born Byron Ellsworth Barr on November 4, 1913 in St. Cloud, Minnesota. His father James was the owner of J.E. Barr Pickling and Preservation Company. James threw himself into his business and had little time for his son. His mother Emma was always sickly and tired. What young Byron perceived as a complete lack of affection from his parents would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  The prosperity of the 1920's gave way to the Great Depression and the poverty of the 1930's. The J.E Barr Pickling and Preservation Company, like so many others, fell victim to the times. Gig's brother Don was employed in Russia while his sister Gen found work teaching in Motley, Minnesota. When his father accepted a job in Washington, D.C. it was left to Gig to look after his ailing mother. In 1932 James Barr summoned his wife and son to join him in Washington. Byron was doing odd jobs here and there and was growing into a handsome young man. He was encouraged to audition for an amateur theatrical troupe known as the Phil Hayden Players. Byron enjoyed the attention he was receiving and it was here that he first began thinking about Hollywood. It was also around this time that Byron survived a testicular cancer scare. The price of survival was a vasectomy that was performed in 1938.

  With his parents seemingly doing better, and with their best wishes, Byron hitched a ride from Washington to California. He arrived in Hollywood as a very insecure young man. His unhappy childhood had him craving for acceptance. The two things that Byron had going for him were his good looks and the raw determination to make it in Hollywood. He would soon learn that Hollywood could be a most unforgiving mistress.

  Byron was introduced to Bill Grady who was a casting director at MGM. Grady put him into an actor's workshop which led to work at a playhouse in Pasadena. It was here that Byron met Sheila Stapler. Sheila adored Byron which seemed to be a perfect tonic for his insecurities. The two were married on August 2, 1940 in Las Vegas. A scout at Warner Brothers had seen Byron in a few plays and arranged a screen test which was conducted by Sophie Rosenstein who was the drama coach at Warners. A name change was needed as there was already a Byron Barr listed in the Screen Actors Guild so Byron Barr from St. Cloud, Minnesota was reborn as Gig Young. Gig signed a standard contract with Warner Brothers and small roles followed in movies such as Dive Bomber and They Died With Their Boots On. In 1941 Gig landed a role in Captains of the Clouds with James Cagney. Cagney was impressed with Gig's determination and the two became friends. By this time World War II had been raging for two years with the United States
sitting on the sidelines. That all changed on December 7, 1941 when Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japan. Gig was drafted and spent two years with the Coast Guard. When the war ended Gig thought that his career would take off. He was cast in a few small roles and then was casually dropped by Warner Brothers. With the downward slide in his career came troubles at home. Gig and Sheila began to argue and Gig began spending time with his old drama coach, Sophie Rosenstein, who was herself married.

  Gig and Sheila were divorced in 1949 and he immediately began pressing Sophie to do the same. She did and Sophie married Gig on January 1, 1951. Friends and Hollywood in general were stunned by the romance. To put it nicely Gig was an attractive man while Sophie was quite plain. Many expected the marriage to fail quickly but they were in for a surprise. Although Gig had found domestic bliss in 1951, his career was in free fall. He desperately needed a quality vehicle to show off the talent that he knew he possessed. Sophie pulled some strings and got him a screen test at MGM for a good role in another Cagney film Come Fill The Cup. During the early filming Gig's insecurities were showing through in his performance. The studio was not pleased and openly talked about replacing him. When this news reached Cagney he was fit to be tied. He promptly went to the producers and told them that if Gig was canned he would walk. He then took Gig aside and told him that when it was his turn in a scene that he had better take it or he would be blown right off the screen. The result was a bravura performance from Gig that would earn him an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor. Gig lost out to Karl Malden, who won for his performance in A Streetcar Named Desire, but the nomination alone would boost his confidence and make Hollywood take notice. Just as things were turning around for Gig in his career, tragedy would strike in his personal life. Just a few months after their marriage, his beloved Sophie would be diagnosed with cervical cancer. If Hollywood had questioned their romance, Gig's actions during her illness silenced his critics. He doted on Sophie and did everything in his power to make her comfortable during the final year of her life.