Sinatra

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  He was thirty-four years old and his career was in a shambles: the movies, the records, now the voice . . . all in jeopardy. Frank said he didn’t know how he could take another breath if he couldn’t sing. However, he felt strongly that if he had Ava in his corner, he’d be able to survive anything. While in Miami, he desperately wanted to hear her voice, her laugh. But Louis B. Mayer was having her calls blocked so that she would not be distracted by him during filming. His interference made it impossible for Frank to get through to her. Frustrated to the point of despair, Frank made arrangements to charter a plane to Spain.

  Need

  By the time Frank Sinatra arrived in Barcelona on May 11, Mario Cabré was miles away in Gerona filming exterior scenes for the movie. Ava suspected that the director, Albert Lewin, purposely sent Cabré away on location shots after he overheard him announce that he would start trouble with Frank if they ever came face-to-face.

  As soon as Frank landed in Barcelona, the press was all over him about Mario. “Is it true that Mario Cabré is having an affair with Ava?” one asked him. “Who?” Frank said. “Never heard of the guy.”

  He rented a car at the airport and drove sixty miles north along the Catalan coast to the Sea Gull Inn in the resort town of S’Agaró, where he and Ava rendezvoused. Frank gave her a $ 10,000 emerald necklace, which he’d wrapped in toilet paper and stuffed in his back pocket. He also presented her with a case of her favorite soft drink, Coca-Cola, a gesture she found amusing. The charm of that gesture wore off, though, when she realized Frank was actually taking sleeping pills with the soft drink because he’d heard it made them work faster in a person’s system. He looked dreadful. Weighing less than 130 pounds, he was pale and weak.

  The next day, the two drove to the La Bastida estate in Tossa de Mar, where they had adjoining haciendas, though they only stayed in his. For most of the next week Frank was sick and seemed disoriented. One morning, when they went tuna fishing, Ava found a bottle of pills in Frank’s jacket and threw them overboard. She was determined to make him start sleeping unaided. However, Frank was thoroughly addicted to the pills, and he jumped in after the bottle and almost drowned. He had to be rescued by the boat’s captain.

  Things went from bad to worse when Ava finally got him back to the estate. There, they were greeted by a newspaper article about her and Mario Cabré, rolled up nicely on the doorstep of his hacienda. Frank had wanted a showdown with her about Cabré anyway. Now he finally had his chance. According to what Ava told Lucy Well-man, he grabbed her and shook her violently. As he throttled her, he wanted to know why she was so intent on flaunting the affair with Cabré. Didn’t she know how much he cared for her? Didn’t she realize what she was doing to him? “Help me,” he pleaded with her. “Help us.” Exhausted, addicted, and emotionally wiped out, Sinatra just couldn’t take any more. Ava demanded that he release her. She warned him not to put his hands on her, ever. “Don’t you manhandle me,” she exclaimed. Sinatra let her go. With tears in his eyes, he then said, “I’m begging you, Ava. Look at me, here. Jesus, can’t you see how I feel?”

  It was a defining moment. Frank had just done for Ava what he never did for any other woman: made himself vulnerable and needy in front of her. Perhaps it was poetic justice, then, that she would respond with the same callous insensitivity with which he had treated Nancy and so many other women before her. “You’re a fine one to talk,” she said. “You’ve got me, you’ve got Nancy, and who knows who else you have on the side? Buzz off, buddy. Don’t sing me your sad songs. I’m not falling for it.” Frank defended himself by saying that the only reason he ever saw Nancy was because he wanted to visit his children. Ava insisted that she and Cabré were just friends, but Frank didn’t believe her. “Don’t lie to me,” he told her. “What? All of a sudden we have a problem with lying?” she shot back.

  One thing was made clear during the showdown in Spain: Frank needed Ava more than she needed him.

  Nancy Files for Separation

  In June 1950, Frank Sinatra was back in Los Angeles, his voice now mostly restored as a result of rest and the strong throat medication he had been taking in Spain. Dolly and Marty were so concerned by what they were hearing in the media and from what Ava was telling them in telephone calls that they took a train to Los Angeles to talk to Frank. The three of them sat down at the kitchen table and tried to figure it all out, almost as if they were back in Hoboken as a family. Frank was too exhausted to explain himself to his parents, though. From one account, he told his mother he just wanted to be happy and that Ava was the one who made him happiest. Dolly wasn’t convinced. “You sure don’t look happy to me,” she told him. There were no wisecracks from her this time, though. Marty suggested that Frank go back to New Jersey with them. He said that maybe they could work these problems out together, as a family. He reminded Frank that at the center of his life was his family, and that he could always turn to them in times of need. “That’s what family’s for,” he said. But Frank felt that Nancy would be very upset with him ifhe went to Jersey without her and the children. “Then bring them,” Marty suggested. “Maybe it will be good if we can all be together far away from all of this bullshit. Don’t you think?” Dolly disagreed. She thought it made no sense to be taking family vacations with Nancy when it was Ava Frank wanted, and that leading Nancy on would be unfair. It didn’t matter; Frank didn’t want to go anyway. He needed a couple of weeks of bed rest, he said, and then he had to fly to England for an important engagement at the Palladium. The Sinatras went back to New Jersey disappointed that they’d been unable to make any sort of positive impact on his life.

  Though the idea of engaging in a new battle with Nancy right now didn’t appeal to Frank at all, he did want to see his children. Nancy agreed to let him spend the weekend at the house; he would sleep in the guest room, of course.

  Frank left feeling rejuvenated, having enjoyed the time with his children, but Nancy was sadder and more depressed than ever. She wished she hadn’t even made the offer. It wasn’t worth the pain.

  She called Frank the next day to reach out, but not to change his mind. “We love each other,” she said, “and we want what’s best for each other. So, I’m not going to fight this thing anymore.” In fact, she was worn out; she didn’t want to battle with him any longer. She said she loved him enough to let him go. “We’re your family,” she told him. “No matter where you go or what you do, you will always have this family.” Frank so appreciated her words, he broke down and cried.

  On July 10, Frank flew to London, where, by coincidence, Ava was filming “pickup” (insert) shots for Pandora. Frank moved into an expensive apartment in Berkeley Square, where he would stay for the next two months.

  The Palladium engagement would turn out to be successful. Ava was front row center, amazed—and relieved—to find that an audience of mostly teenagers responded to Frank in much the same way the youth in the States used to back in the early days. While sipping tea onstage to soothe his throat, Frank performed a concert of classics that included “Embraceable You” and “I’ve Got a Crush on You.” A reporter for the Musical Express wrote, “I watched mass hysteria. Was it wonderful? Decidedly so, for this man Sinatra is a superb performer and a great artist. He has his audience spellbound.”

  In September 1950, Frank and Ava returned to New York and continued their romance, now in a very open, public manner. They then attended the Joe Louis-Ezzard Charles world heavyweight championship bout at Yankee Stadium, where they were photographed, all smiles and arm in arm.

  The next day, on September 28, Nancy made an appearance at Santa Monica’s Superior Court in her bid for a legal separation and separate maintenance. Shaking and practically being held up by her sister Julie, Nancy pled her case to Judge Orlando Rhodes. Her marriage was over, she said. “On numerous occasions, he would go to Palm Springs for weekends without me,” she said of Frank through her tears. “He also stayed several days at a time. This happened many times. When we had guests, he would go off by
himself and not feel like talking. This made me terribly nervous and upset.”

  The proceedings had to be halted several times so that Nancy could compose herself. Nancy estimated Frank’s 1949 income as having been $93,740 and assessed the value of their community property at $750,000. She was granted $2,750 a month in temporary support.

  Even with all of the work he was getting, Frank couldn’t possibly make the court-ordered monthly payments to Nancy. He’d even recently had to borrow money from Columbia Records just to pay back taxes. He told Ava, “I won’t have enough bucks to buy you a pair of nylons once Nancy is through with me. I just have to keep working. Whatever they throw at me, I’m just going to have to take it.”

  “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” Ava said. “After all you’ve given her!”

  Of course, Ava had no idea how much Nancy was suffering. “I would see her faint into her plate at dinner from the stress,” Nancy Jr. would recall of her mother. “Sometimes it was heart palpitations, sometimes a cold, sometimes fatigue. Until then, she had never been sick. She was in pain. And, though I wasn’t aware of it, her pain was exacerbated by the scandal. She was deeply in love and terribly hurt. I would hear her crying quietly at night while I was going to sleep. She would never show it in front of us, never, but my room was next to hers and I would sometimes tiptoe out and I’d listen at the door and she’d be crying. Sometimes I would go in to her and just put my arms around her.”

  In October, Ava returned to Hollywood to begin work on the MGM film version of the Hammerstein and Kern musical Show Boat. Meanwhile, Frank had begun working on his own television series, The Frank Sinatra Show on CBS, to be broadcast on Saturday nights. It was a major break for him when the show went on the air on October 7, 1950. Though the ratings were never strong—and some were astonished that the network had even given him a show considering his recent career reversals—the series would struggle along for a couple of years. At the same time, Frank would star in a weekly CBS radio program, Meet Frank Sinatra, on Sunday afternoons. He was doing everything he could to keep his name and talent in the public eye, and also to make a living. But his personal life was still a shambles and guilt was starting to set in where Nancy was concerned.

  Frank went home to think about his future and how he should proceed. His roots were in Hoboken; it was still where he felt most grounded. Over drinks at a local bar, Marty said that he definitely was not a fan of Ava’s, unlike Dolly. He said that he didn’t appreciate the way she had come between his son and Nancy. However, he understood that Frank loved her. “Don’t feel guilty about loving someone,” he told Frank. “It’s the only thing that matters. Loving someone.” Marty didn’t say much, but when he did speak it was always from the heart. Frank needed to hear his words; he would never forget them. “Thanks, Pop,” he told him. “You’re right. I’ll try not to.”

  “But maybe don’t marry her right away, son,” Marty hastened to add, looking at Frank squarely. “Maybe take a minute and think this thing through. It’s no good having two bad marriages, Frankie.”

  Frank nodded. He put his head on his father’s shoulder and sighed deeply. “You’re right, Pop,” he whispered. “It’s no good.”

  1951

  The following year, Frank Sinatra—now thirty-five years old—was still as captivated by Ava Gardner as ever, and still conflicted about his life and career. On March 27, he gave one of his most emotional performances in the studio when he recorded “I’m a Fool to Want You,” a session that marked a defining moment in the development of his interpretative skills. The anguish he felt over his relationship with Ava is clear in every note in this recording (which, incidentally, was not a hit and remains obscure, except to Sinatra aficionados). So overcome by grief was he when he first tried to record it that he left the studio in tears. He had to return later to complete the song.

  “That was one of the finest recordings he ever made,” observed his daughter Nancy. “It’s enough to tear your heart into pieces, it’s so beautiful. As a matter of fact, we played it on Thanksgiving night [1996] at his house. We were sitting at the table listening to it in the background, and he said, ‘My God. That’s good.’ ”

  Sinatra cowrote “I’m a Fool to Want You” with Jack Wolf and Joel Herron. He would rerecord it for Capital Records six years later; although the remake was a stunning performance, it didn’t have the same emotional intensity as the original.

  At about this same time, Frank filmed a new movie, Meet Danny Wilson, for Universal with Shelley Winters. In the film, he portrays a shady nightclub singer who is involved with the underworld—a little too close to home, but he was just happy to work; he was paid $25,000 for the film. Though it was unsuccessful at the box office when finally released, it showcased some memorable songs, including “All of Me,” “She’s Funny That Way,” and “I’ve Got a Crush on You.”

  His next movie, Double Dynamite, was a comedy costarring Jane Russell and Groucho Marx. It was a disaster. Double Dynamite had actually been filmed the previous year, but had been shelved temporarily. Steve Stoliar, Groucho Marx’s former secretary, said, “Groucho told me Sinatra was often late to the set, stuck in his dressing room going over racing forms. Groucho went up to him finally and said, ‘If you’re late one more time, you’re going to have to act opposite yourself, because I’m not going to show up.’ Sinatra was on time after that.”

  On July 17, 1951, Frank and Ava attended the premiere of Show Boat at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood. Ava never looked more stunning, wearing an emerald green-and-black satin and lace evening gown courtesy of the MGM costume designer Irene. A striking diamond necklace, an expensive gift from Frank to commemorate the occasion, adorned her neck. Famed Hollywood stylist Sydney Guilaroff did her hair. From the expression on his face, Frank was proud to be with the woman described by one television reporter as “a true Hollywood vision.”

  “It gives me a great pleasure and pride to be able to escort Ava to a public premiere,” Frank said happily. “I’ve cared for a long, long time. I’m very much in love with her and it’s wonderful to know we can be seen together without hurting anyone. There’s no ill feeling about it anywhere—with anyone.” He seemed anxious.

  As the glamorous couple exited a stretch limousine and walked down the red carpet to the theater, devoted fans screamed out their names in unison: “Frankie!” “Ava!” “Frankie!” “Ava!” Flashbulbs popped all about them. It was a mad scene, but exhilarating. A party was planned later at Romanoff’s, but Frank and Ava bowed out because he had to be at work early the next morning, at RKO on the set of Meet Danny Wilson.

  Shortly after the premiere, and after a quick vacation to Mexico, Frank announced that he and Ava were officially engaged to be married. On August 11, he was booked at the Riverside Inn and Casino in Reno, Nevada. While there, he decided to use the opportunity to establish a Nevada residency so that he could file for divorce. His filing would involve his having to stay in Nevada for at least five weeks. He rented an estate there.

  “Come on up here for the Labor Day weekend,” Frank told Ava on the telephone. “We can have some fun.” Ava agreed. She and her maid, Rene, jumped in her Cadillac (with her Corgi dog, Rags) and sped off from Los Angeles to Reno. About halfway there, they hit a deer on the road, violently shattering the windshield. Nobody was hurt, but both women were quite shaken and the car’s engine died. “Maybe we can still drive,” the plucky Ava suggested. “Without a windshield?” Rene asked. “Well, I don’t see why not,” Ava said as she got out of the car.

  Ava lifted the hood of the vehicle and fiddled with the engine for a few minutes as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Then she got back into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. “Damn!” she exclaimed when the engine wouldn’t start. “Okay, fine,” she decided. “This calls for a drink.” Rene reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of brandy, uncorked it, and handed it to Ava, who took a couple of deep swigs. Then the two women got out of the vehicle and started hitchhiki
ng along the deserted highway—Rene carrying Rags, Ava with her thumb out—before being picked up by a no doubt astonished passing driver. They were driven to Carson City, where they called Hank Sanicola. He met them there and drove them the rest of the way.

  Frank thought it would be even more fun for Ava if she and Rene—along with Hank Sanicola and his wife, Paula—took a side trip with him to the Cal-Neva Lodge in Lake Tahoe.

  The Cal-Neva Lodge, located exactly on the California-Nevada border, boasted a beautiful showroom (where the same performers who frequented Las Vegas—Frank’s friends, for the most part— appeared), an enormous dining room, plus about twenty furnished cottages that cost about fifty dollars a day. The luxurious gambling casinos were located on the Nevada side of the compound. It was advertised as “Heaven in the High Sierras.” Frank owned the largest interest in the Cal-Neva, 36.6 percent. Along with Frank were investors Dean Martin, Hank Sanicola, and Paul “Skinny” D’Amato, the charismatic owner of the 500 Club in Atlantic City.

  Nancy Sinatra recalled, “Dad liked Cal-Neva because it was unpretentious but glamorous, homey but exciting. He had the final say on every employee, choosing people who were honest and hardworking and who would turn the lodge into a wonderful getaway destination. He reveled in the fun of hotel, casino, and stage ownership, throwing countless parties, even chartering planes to fly in friends, such as Lucille Ball, to share his enjoyment at ringside.”

  “We thought that was just a swell idea,” Ava later said of their intention to visit Cal-Neva. “We were wrong.”

  The Suicide Attempts

  On the afternoon of August 31, 1951, Frank, Ava, Rene, Hank, and Paula took a yacht out onto the water for a peaceful afternoon on the lake. After spending about two hours in the hot sun drinking copious amounts of champagne, everyone was feeling pretty drunk. As often happened when they were drinking, Frank and Ava got into a heated argument. Because Frank wasn’t paying attention to his job as captain, the boat crashed into something—rocks, presumably— and suddenly the front half was on shore and the back half in water. Alarmed and too inebriated to think straight, everyone just jumped off the boat into the water and swam to shore. Everyone but Ava. “You’re gonna drown, you dizzy broad,” Frank hollered at her as the ship started to sink. “Jump, Ava!” Ava went into the bathroom, found a supply of toilet paper, and starting flinging the rolls at Frank. “Stop telling me what to do,” she shouted back at him.