John Springer, from the Arthur Jacobs Agency, and his assistant, Pat Newcomb, along with Aaron Frosch, persuaded Marilyn to divorce Miller on the day the press would be busy covering John F Kennedy’s inauguration. Marilyn and her crew flew into Dallas, Texas, then on to Juarez, Mexico, for a quickie divorce. Marilyn did not want to go to Reno, having just finished a film about a divorce there. She didn’t want to go to Las Vegas, where years before she had divorced Dougherty, so Mexico was the choice. On a stopover, the foursome caught the momentous occasion of John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s becoming President. Besieged by mostly European press, Marilyn deflected questions having more to do with her “involvement” with Montand than with Miller. Judge Miguel Gomez Guerra granted her a divorce on January 20, 1961, stating “incompatibility of character” as the reason.
Marilyn felt confident again as she flew back to New York, but her good spirits were suddenly dashed when she learned Arthur’s mother had died. Mrs. Miller had treated Marilyn more like a daughter than a daughter-in-law She had practically begged Marilyn to give the marriage with her son another try, but Marilyn refused her pleas. One more death, this time of a woman who had come to represent her long-lost mother, was another blow. Monroe called DiMaggio, but he was in Florida on business and couldn’t be reached. Having been increasingly intimate with DiMaggio over the last year, she had become dependent on him, too. His unavailability served only to renew her sense of abandonment. With her condition so fragile and still grieving for Clark Gable, her separation from Arthur, and then the sudden death of her ex-husband’s mother, Joe couldn’t fathom how to console her. His absence was a statement: he didn’t want her to be constantly dependent upon him. Overcome by still another abandonment, her total collapse was almost inevitable. Neither reason nor understanding could calm her. As a result, her sleeping-pill dosage had to be increased. More sleepless nights, more barbiturates, more drinking, and her own preexisting frailties, were a disastrous combination.
By early February, Marilyn’s anxieties had intensified to a level that caused her psychiatrist grave concern. In the throes of a nervous breakdown, she needed round-the-clock care, which her home life could not provide. One of her psychiatrists committed her patient to a sanitarium just ten blocks from Marilyn’s apartment near the East River. But the bars and cell-like accommodations at the Payne Whitney Clinic were not what Marilyn had bargained for. In a panic and with a resurgence of anger over her mother’s confinement, she made pleas to Lee Strasberg for rescue.
Dr. Kris has put me into the hospital... under the care of two idiot doctors. They both should not be my doctors. You haven’t heard from me because I’m locked up with all these poor, nutty people. I’m sure to end up a nut if I stay in this nightmare. Please help me, Lee, this is the last place I should be—maybe if you call Dr. Kris and assure her of my sensitivity and that I must get back to class so I’ll be better prepared.... Lee, I try to remember what you said once in class, that “art goes far beyond the science.” Please help me. If Dr. Kris assures you that I am all right—assure her I do not belong here! Marilyn. P.S. I’m on the dangerous floor. It’s like a cell. ”
Neither Dr. Kris nor Strasberg acted to remove Marilyn from confinement. But Joe DiMaggio knew what his ex-wife needed—constant love, especially in view of her debilitating series of separations. When Marilyn finally contacted Joe in Florida, he boarded the first flight out, secured her release, and placed her in a more suitable environment for rest. By the end of February, Marilyn was transferred from Payne Whitney to Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, where she stayed until mid-March.
She complained bitterly after her release about how much Payne Whitney was like a prison with bars, steel doors, and padded cells. She would stress, “The place was for real ‘nuts,’” the kind her mother was and the kind she was afraid she might become. The actress repeatedly thanked God for Joe’s rescue. Since her mother and grandmother had been diagnosed with serious psychiatric disorders and been institutionalized, Kris automatically presumed that confining Miss Monroe was completely justified. Marilyn had simply inherited her mental illness. The insecure actress was not about to accept the diagnosis that she had been cursed with irreversible madness. She preferred Joe’s remedy—unconditional love.
But even Columbia Presbyterian was sterile and impersonal, and Lena had a difficult time locating the actress’s room. Her housekeeper’s cherished dishes, including chicken soup, pasta, and chocolate pudding, helped to cheer up the ailing patient. Though pale and exhausted, Marilyn was surrounded by dozens of floral arrangements. Joe’s love and attention made it possible for her to detox from the addictive sedatives. Her doctors slowly diminished the doses until Marilyn was gradually sleeping without barbiturates. Lena continued visiting, bringing a variety of gifts, from homemade foods to pretty nightgowns. Marilyn announced to her that she had finally experienced a full night’s sleep without pills and nightmares. With Joe’s constant attention and trusty strong arm to lean on, she slowly recuperated.
Knowing that Miller had taken their dog, Hugo, as part of the divorce settlement (Marilyn kept the apartment while Miller kept the recently remodeled Connecticut home) and always having a good heart, Frank Sinatra wasted no time in giving her a white French poodle, as a token of his affection. Convinced that Sinatra’s friends looked like gangsters, and against his wish, Marilyn called the dog “Maf,” short for Mafia. Ultimately, Frank sportingly accepted Marilyn’s name choice, even if it did embarrass him a little.
DiMaggio continued seeing Monroe, but due to his ongoing commitment with the Yankees for openings and appearances, he could not spend as much time with his ex-wife as she wanted him to. She longed to be closer to him, perhaps moving in for a while until her life got back on track, she rationalized. But the reality was that she wanted marriage. Though she thought he would eventually change his requirements, he didn’t. He would remain her best friend and lover, but no more.
Fortunately for Marilyn at this time, her half sister, Bernice, came into her life. Mrs. Bernice Miracle and her husband had been living a quiet life in Gainesville, Florida. Like Marilyn, she had also been separated from her birth mother, only at a younger age. Still a youngster when her father fled with her and her brother (who would soon die) out of state, Bernice barely remembered any contact with her mother. Marilyn and she had their whole lives to catch up on. Initially Marilyn suspected Bernice was trying to cash in on her fame. But she soon realized Mrs. Miracle’s intentions were sincere. Actually it was her fame that allowed Bernice to find Marilyn in the first place. Soon, getting to know and love her only other family (other than their institutionalized “dead” mother) became the superstar’s highest priority.
The actress gave Bernice and her husband a whirlwind tour of New York City. Putting them up in an expensive hotel with a chauffeur to tour the Big Apple, she even set her sister up with all the privileges of stardom, including her very own Manhattan hairdresser, Kenneth. Recognizing some resemblance between the two, for fun Marilyn did her best to transform Bernice into her identical twin. Although Bernice was slightly shorter and trimmer, the two sisters did look remarkably alike. Still the glamour-queen makeover didn’t quite gel with the more humble sister.
Disheartened by DiMaggio’s inconsistency, Marilyn plunged into trying to establish a deep, lasting relationship with Bernice. Blood relatives had been virtually unknown to Marilyn. Though she continued sending substantial amounts of money to contribute to her mother’s care, just thinking of her made the actress sad and depressed. Now, identifying with her “normal” sister, Marilyn could finally become grounded. She set out to elevate Bernice’s standard of living, bestowing boundless energy, time, and money upon her. But the two felt uneasy discussing their mother. Both had been brutally separated as early adolescents, which resulted in permanent emotional damage. Neither had resolved her hurt and anger regarding their childhood feelings of betrayal by their parents. The fact that both women yearned so for their mother’s love and affection drew them
even closer together.
Grateful and appreciative of finding her “other half,” eventually Marilyn felt at ease and brought Bernice to the farm in Connecticut to show her the pleasures of a simpler life. Under the guise of retrieving her personal belongings, she, Bernice, and her masseur, Ralph Roberts, traveled to Miller’s home. She bragged to her sister how she had helped turn the place into the gracious farm it was (of course with her own money). Marilyn purposely downplayed her glamorous image in order to demonstrate to her sister that she, too, was “down to earth.” She had bought additional lots to enhance the privacy and value of the home and, like the generous woman she was, Marilyn gave her interest in the property to Miller, but she had some regrets as she had enjoyed the solitude and quiet of Connecticut.
Miller was happy to receive the spoils of their marriage. With a large sum of money in the bank from The Misfits, he was able to “retire” in comfort. The remodeled house and expanded acreage made his property much more valuable as well. Living in financial security, he was still hoping for a movie career as a screenwriter, fantasizing that The Misfits would be respected as Academy Award fare.
Though the siblings’ relationship endured awkward moments of pain and regrets from the lost years of separation and distance, both had admiration, respect, and understanding for the other and were delighted to learn that blood was stronger than they had imagined it. The long-buried dream of having “real” family was coming true as the sisters discussed Bernice’s possible move to New York. The two could share Sunday night dinners or trips to the movies like other typical American sisters. Their reunion offered Monroe the impetus to regroup and start life anew without Arthur Miller. Even with her thirty-fifth birthday approaching and the painfully hard knocks of the past year still fresh, the maturing sex queen’s newfound bond instilled vigor and promise that life was indeed hopeful.
15
Bahia de Cochinos
To endure an exhausting campaign while suffering from a bad back and Addison’s disease, an adrenal gland disorder, Senator Kennedy was forced to rely heavily on a New York physician, Dr. Max Jacobson. Friend and confidant Chuck Spaulding introduced both John and wife Jackie to the former German refugee after being “saved” from a furious bout of mononucleosis. Bedazzled by his impressive list of celebrity patients, including Judy Garland, Billy Wilder, Yul Brynner, Eddie Fisher, Truman Capote, Alan Jay Lerner, Van Cliburn, Mickey Mantle, and Stavros Niarchos, as a true believer Kennedy was glad to be on such a privileged client list. A week prior to the first nationally televised presidential debate, JFK submitted to the first of countless treatments at the hands of Dr. Feelgood, as Jacobson came to be colloquially known around New York City. At about the same time, Jackie went to Jacobson for relief from the torturing headaches and depression she had developed after the caesarean birth of John, Jr.; to cope with the daily strains of post childbirth, becoming the First Lady and the anxiety-inducing loss of privacy, Jackie joined her husband in a search for deliverance from pain.
In his plush Manhattan office at 155 East 72nd Street, the guru of medicine would first inject himself with his mysterious cure-all before shooting another trusty vial into one of his famous patients. The dark-haired dogmatic doctor touted his secret serum as the perfect elixir for a total health system. His patients admired his seemingly boundless energy, confidence, and wisdom.
After several meetings with Dr. Jacobson, Jack Kennedy was convinced that the treatment had helped supply the energy needed to sustain his inhuman schedule. But nothing could have been worse for a man who suffered so many ailments. In addition to Jacobson’s concoction, Kennedy was also using the painkiller Demerol and cortisone for the Addison’s disease. The combination of drugs (now considered contraindicated) undoubtedly worsened his condition by lowering his adrenal function. Even against Jacobson’s advice to discontinue the Demerol, Kennedy persisted, injecting himself with the painkiller on top of the usual two or three shots a week from Jacobson.
When Jackie discovered Jack’s vials of Demerol in the bathroom, she repeatedly ordered him to stop. But the addicted President vehemently defended his use of the drug, citing his chronic back pain, the Addison’s disease, and the horrendous burden of being America’s commander-in-chief during a time of crisis.
With all the drugs taken simultaneously, the president underwent long stretches of intense highs and then severe lows, the highs characterized by grandiose overconfidence in his abilities and a vastly increased sex drive. Jack had become insatiable.
After months of his brother’s having injections, Bobby grew alarmed over Jack’s condition and subsequently sent the vials for laboratory investigation. The serum was found to contain high levels of amphetamine, steroids, hormones, animal cells, and a lesser amount of vitamins. Many unsuspecting clients would enjoy the treatment until later they would suffer from acute memory loss, depression, anxiety, weight loss, hypertension, paranoia, hallucinations, and other debilitating symptoms. Ultimately, the New York City Medical Examiner’s Office determined that one of Jacobson’s patients had died from “acute amphetamine poisoning” and, fortunately for public safety, the doctor eventually lost his license to practice medicine.
Late during his administration, President Eisenhower had planned a secret CIA mission to overthrow the newly installed Castro government. The fact that the tiny Marxist regime posed such a serious danger to the United States delighted archenemy Russia. With the constant threat of deployment of long-range missiles directly from Cuba, the U.S. government planned to oust Fidel Castro once and for all. Even before the election, Kennedy had his father briefed by John Foster Dulles, the CIA director who was instrumental in the planning of the secret invasion. A few days before the televised debates, the following statement was released from Kennedy headquarters: “We must attempt to strengthen the non-Batista, democratic, anti-Castro forces in exile, and in Cuba itself, who offer eventual hope of overthrowing Castro. Thus far, these fighters for freedom have had virtually no support from our government.” The senator would later claim that he had not ever seen the release. He may well have been too wired on all the drugs to even notice or recall such a potentially damaging and embarrassing statement.
Recognizing the national security threat caused by Kennedy’s inept remark, Nixon cautiously covered for his opponent during the debate, branding his proposal as “dangerously irresponsible.” Nixon went on to successfully argue that the loss of Latin America and United Nations support would simply serve as an open invitation to Mr. Khruschchev to engage us in a civil war with Latin America and possibly “worse than that.” Privy to the covert operations for arming the anti-Castro exiles at their training base in Guatemala, the vice president was disgusted with Kennedy for jeopardizing the secret plan solely for his own political gain. Nixon went on the air presenting a soft stance on communism (the complete opposite of his actual beliefs), meant to cover for the senator’s strategic faux pas. The overamped, drug-ridden candidate denied the accusations as an “honest miscalculation.” Ted Sorensen rushed to Jack’s defense, explaining that during the briefing the senator had not been made aware of the invasion plans. In later efforts to further explain away the incident, Richard Goodwin declared that Kennedy had indeed been briefed, but that by the time the statement was written, he could no longer be reached for approval at the Carlyle Hotel in Manhattan. Instead, at Goodwin’s request, the Secret Service had not disturbed the President, who was supposedly sleeping at the time.
By the following day, Kennedy was busy clarifying his position on Cuba, ultimately declaring: “I have never advocated, and I do not advocate, intervention in Cuba in violation of our treaty obligations.... We must use all available communications—radio, television, and the press—and the moral power of the American government, to let the forces of freedom in Cuba know that we are on their side.” The change in positions clearly affected the candidate’s perceived strengths, with Nixon appearing soft on communism and Kennedy coming across tough. But Nixon preserved and protec
ted the operation. In October 1962 Kennedy would reckon with the Cuban Missile Crisis—the direct consequence of his misinformation blunder. After learning of the plan, in self-defense, Castro enlisted Khrushchev’s assistance against the United States invasion and assassination attempts. When nuclear missiles were subsequently installed in Cuba, U.S. reconnaissance aircraft photographed their presence. After an even closer call, Khrushchev would finally agree to dismantling the missiles in exchange for a U.S. commitment never to invade Cuba.
An aide would later reveal that Kennedy’s head was clearly somewhere else during the debates. Ninety minutes before airtime, Jack was in his hotel room with a call girl. Then just after the debate, JFK was asking, “Any girls lined up for tomorrow?” The drug therapy was pumping his appetite to unprecedented heights. Jack would later boast that he had to have sex before each of the debates to ensure his confidence and victory in the election.
During the early months of his presidency, Kennedy was well aware that the mob was holding sufficient cards in the covert operation. Its gambling and vice activities in Havana had been stopped abruptly during the Castro takeover and the mob was angered.
The CIA had opportunistically enlisted the Mafia’s assistance in its proposed attempts to overthrow Castro’s government. A great deal was at stake for the Cosa Nostra. Castro had cost their “tax free businesses” hundreds of millions of dollars. Even after contributing millions and promising a cut to Castro in the hope that he would eventually allow the casinos to reopen, they could only stand idly by. Castro remained undecided, continuing to hold Santos Trafficante, a Cuban-American gambling czar, in jail. Jack Ruby, who would a few years later murder Lee Harvey Oswald, JFK’s alleged assassin, was assigned the task of negotiating for Trafficante’s release. Concerned about losing his drug-smuggling operations, New Orleans crime boss Carlos Marcello soon participated in arming a group of Cuban rebels for the operation.
Crypt 33 Page 21
