Sinatra

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  As the heartbreaking scene unfolded, I looked for some moment of closeness between Nancy, Tina, and Barbara, but there really wasn’t one, at least not one for public consumption. A photographer shouted out at them, asking if they would pose together for a photo. Understandably, Tina threw him a scathing look; this was obviously not a moment for posed photos.

  The day after Frank’s funeral, attorneys for the Sinatra estate filed a copy of his thirty-page 1991 will for probate in Los Angeles. There had been some confusion about the will. First, the family was presented with a will dated October 31, 1991. It was pretty much what everyone expected in terms of bequeathments. But then one of the lawyers told the Sinatra children that “there seems to be a second will.” One was produced that had been revised and signed four days later on November 3. The wills were mostly identical, except for a provision in the second in which Sinatra gave Barbara an additional $3.5 million. “It was something that had to be done,” said Eliot Weisman, who was privy to the negotiations relating to the will. However, by this time the Sinatra family was so emotionally spent and grief-stricken no one cared to even pursue a line of questioning about the additional clause in the second will.

  In the end, according to Frank’s final wishes, Barbara also ended up with all of the Sinatra residences, one each in Beverly Hills and Malibu, two in Rancho Mirage, and another in Cathedral City. She also received the rights to his Trilogy recordings as well as most of his material possessions, including all the silverware, books, and paintings in the homes, as well as a Mercedes-Benz and a Rolls-Royce. She would also control most of his name and likeness rights. Barbara also got 25 percent royalties from Sheffield Enterprises, the company Frank set up to license his name and likeness. Daughter Nancy was said to be chief executive of the firm.

  Frank Jr., Nancy, and Tina each got $200,000 in cash, as well as some stock. Their mother and Sinatra’s first wife, Nancy Barbato, received $250,000. Frank Jr. got the rights to his dad’s sheet music. Robert Marx, Barbara’s son from a previous marriage, got $100,000. In addition, the children received rights to most of their dad’s lucrative music catalog.

  It may seem to some observers that Frank’s children were short-changed in the will, but the bulk of Sinatra’s net worth—between $200 million and $600 million—was set aside in a living trust enacted before his death. Unlike the will, which is subject to a review in probate court and is therefore a public document, the contents of the trust are confidential. It is known that each child had a trust, but what is not known is how much was in it. Therefore it would be unfair to assume that their father didn’t see to it that his children were well taken care of. Sinatra’s attorney Harvey Silbert said, “There are very substantial assets in the trust.” (One little-known fact about Frank Sinatra, according to his official website, www.Sinatra.com, is that during his life he donated more than a billion dollars to various charities around the world.)

  With royalties of his music catalog going mostly to his children, the cumulative amount would have to be staggering considering the scores of posthumous compilations of Sinatra’s music that found their way to release after his death—some very good, some redundant of what had already been released.

  In October 2013, Frank Sinatra Entertainment—which is run by the Sinatra family alongside Warner Music Group—made an official announcement about a deal it struck with the Universal Music Group to have Frank’s classic 1950s Capitol and 1960s Reprise recordings combined for future compilations. The packages are being released on Capitol Records under the new “Signature Sinatra” imprint. “We today approach the Sinatra Centennial [December 12, 2015] with an opportunity to showcase our father’s prodigious body of work to a world of new and loyal fans,” stated Nancy, Frank, and Tina Sinatra. The first release under the new deal, Sinatra: Best of the Best, featured such Capitol classics as “I’ve Got the World on a String” and “Love and Marriage” alongside Reprise hits like “Strangers in the Night” and “That’s Life.” For the Sinatra loyalist, these sort of compilations amount to more of the same material just being reissued with new artwork, but for the more casual fan this sort of collection provided a novel way to hear a wide breadth of Frank’s material on a single CD.

  * * *

  In 2013, Frank’s daughter Nancy, then seventy-three years old, issued an album of previously unreleased material on her own Boots Enterprises Inc. label, which features her renditions of many popular songs from the 1970s, such as Neil Diamond’s “Holly Holy” and Jimmy Webb’s “MacArthur Park,” mixed in with show tunes like Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “A Cockeyed Optimist” from South Pacific (with its beautifully lush arrangement by Billy May). It’s an understated, artfully produced collection, well worth hearing.

  Still in the public eye after all of these years, Nancy doesn’t shy away from controversy. As it happens, it can sometimes inadvertently pit her against Barbara, whom she hasn’t seen much of—if at all—since her father’s death. For instance, in November 2013, Mia Farrow, who was sixty-eight at the time, gave an interview to Vanity Fair and revealed that “possibly” her son, Ronan, could be Frank’s biological child. Nancy immediately came forth with the magnanimous statement that “Ronan is a big part of us, and we are blessed to have him in our lives.” But for her part, Barbara, who was eighty-six, said of the possibility, “I can hardly believe that. It’s just a bunch of junk. There’s always j unk written—lies that aren’t true.” She was also quick to note that Frank left nothing to Ronan in his will. (For that matter, Mia wasn’t mentioned in the will either, though she insists she and Frank “never really split up.”)

  In fact, Ronan was born in 1987, during Frank’s marriage to Barbara. Frank was seventy-one. Mia was forty-two. At the time, Mia was involved with Woody Allen (long presumed Ronan’s biological father). It seems unlikely that Frank and Mia would have secretly reunited nineteen years after their marriage to have a child together. But then again . . . who knows? In Frank’s baffling world where no relationship could be painted with a wide brushstroke, pretty much anything was possible. It’s more likely, though, that Mia was just teasing the Vanity Fair writer, Maureen Orth, with a provocative comment, and that the whole business just got blown out of proportion.

  To his credit, Ronan Farrow had the last word on Twitter: “Listen, we’re all ‘possibly’ Frank Sinatra’s son.”

  It’s been seventeen years since the day I crashed Frank Sinatra’s funeral, and today I’m glad I mustered up the courage to do it. Debbie Reynolds was right; some moments in history should not be missed. Certainly Frank never missed out on any of the big ones ofhis life. He seized each and every one and made the most of it. As he sang in his trademark song, “My Way,” he had his regrets, sure—“but then again, too few to mention.”

  After the ceremony, I walked out of the darkened Good Shepherd Church into the blinding glare of daylight. Before me, I saw what had to be more than a thousand onlookers standing behind endless yards of yellow police tape, representing Frank’s adoring public, many holding up colorful signs and banners with sentiments such as “We’ll Miss You, Ol’ Blue Eyes,” and “R.I.P.—The Chairman.” They were peaceful, orderly . . . respectful. Of course, there was also the mad crush of reporters and cameras, which reminded me that I too was supposed to be working, and that I had been derailed for more than two hours!

  Behind a long line of sleek limousines parked and waiting for celebrity passengers, I noticed some fans pointing upward and smiling. When I raised my head, I saw a small plane streaking across a vast, unblemished sky, skywriting Frank’s initials in sleek white contrails—an F and an S both elegantly written, beautifully succinct. One of Frank’s more pragmatic quotes popped into my head. “I’m not one of those complicated, mixed-up cats,” he had said. “I’m not looking for the secret to life. I just go from day to day, taking what comes.”

  As I watched the skywriters’ handiwork slowly fade into a vaporous haze, I was more than ever aware of the fleeting nature of life and the urgency of living
it to the fullest, like Sinatra did, with all his flaws and foibles and mistakes and misjudgments just as much a part of his life’s story as his joys, his passions, and his music. In fact, there will never be another man quite like him. Frank was one of a kind, an extraordinary man cut from a special kind of cloth, a character never to be duplicated. Not in this lifetime, anyway. Which, one might imagine, is exactly as he would have wanted it.

  —J. Randy Taraborrelli

  SOURCE NOTES AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ORIGINAL 1998 SOURCES AND NOTES

  While the following notes are by no means comprehensive, they are intended to at least give the reader a general overview of my research.

  Over a five-year period between 1991 and 1996, 425 people were interviewed for this work, either by myself or by my researcher, Cathy Griffin. Whenever practical, I have provided sources within the body of the text. Some who were not quoted directly in the text provided observations that helped me better understand Sinatra and his life and career.

  Some of the books and newspaper and magazine articles that I consulted are included below; however, there are simply too many to be listed in their entirety.

  Obviously, I viewed innumerable hours of Sinatra’s television programs, television specials, concerts, press conferences, and documentaries (as well as those relating to Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Peter Lawford, and other principal players in this story), and also hundreds of hours of radio interviews and other broadcasts in which Sinatra took part or of which he was the subject. It would be impractical to list them all here.

  Frank Sinatra has many fan clubs, but two in particular are amazingly well organized and informative: the Sinatra Society of America (headed by Charles Pignone, a longtime trusted friend of the Sinatras) and the International Sinatra Society (directed by thorough Sinatra historians Mary and Dustin Doctor in memory of the late Gary L. Doctor, who compiled Citadel Press’s excellent Sinatra Scrapbook). Through their newsletters and other forums, including invaluable Internet resources, I was able to confirm important details and add color to certain sections of this book. I also obtained historically important videotapes and recordings from the International Sinatra Society. Mr. Sinatra is fortunate to have these two fan clubs so devoted to preserving his legend and reputation.

  In writing about a person as powerful and influential as Frank Sinatra and about the Sinatra family, a biographer is bound to find that many sources with valuable information prefer not to be named in the text. This is understandable. Throughout my career, I have maintained that for a person to jeopardize a long-standing, important relationship for the sake of a book is a purely personal choice. Because I so appreciate the assistance of many people close to Sinatra over the years who gave of their time and energy for this project, I will respect their wishes for anonymity. Those who could be named are named in these notes. Also, some sources are named in the text but asked specifically not to be named in the book’s acknowledgments so as not to have their contributions singled out and held up to scrutiny by the Sinatra family. Of course, I’ve respected their wishes as well.

  1915–39

  “Unbelievable! I don’t believe that there’s [yet] another person writing a book about Sinatra,” said Nancy Sinatra Sr. to my researcher, Cathy Griffin, on May 30, 1997. “Nobody ever gets it right, and it’s just exhausting to me,” she said. “However, I wish the author well with it anyway. Maybe this one will make some sense.” Laughing, she added, “I just hope he does a good job, for his sake.”

  I would like to thank Mrs. Sinatra for her limited participation, for clarifying certain points of which I was uncertain, and for shedding light on other areas. A dignified, positive-thinking woman, she is not anxious to discuss the past, which is why I appreciate her time even more.

  “I refuse to say anything bad about anybody, any way or anyhow,” she said when pushed about one particularly painful memory, “because I have been hurt too many times through the years. Recently I was asked something about Ava Gardner and I said, ‘Look. It’s just too late. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, and it shouldn’t matter to anyone else. I’m eighty years old, and I’m just not going to get into that anymore, ever.’ And if people want to know how I feel, then tell them that, because that’s how I feel. I don’t mean to be rude, but this is my life, and I have a right to feel as I do about it. Don’t you agree?”

  I feel that Mrs. Sinatra’s candid comments speak volumes for the way she has decided to deal with her life’s history, and I admire her point of view.

  Over the last five years, I spent many hours in Hoboken, New Jersey, where a number of people opened their homes—and their scrapbooks—to me as they remembered young Frank. I am indebted to so many people who lived in Hoboken when the Sinatras did—many of whom live elsewhere today—and also to the sons, daughters, grandsons, and granddaughters of people who were friendly with Dolly and Marty Sinatra and whose memories of them, as relayed to them by their ancestors, remain intact. I was impressed by their affection for the Sinatras and appreciate their trust.

  I utilized the Park Avenue library in Hoboken to glean details of Hoboken’s history as well as the Sinatra family’s. My appreciation to all of its staff for their assistance. Regarding Hoboken’s history, I also utilized The Hoboken of Yesterday by George Long; The Italians by Luigi Barzini; Gritty Cities by Mary Procter and Bill Matuszeski; Beyond the Melting Pot by Nathan Glazer and Daniel P. Moynihan; Halo over Hoboken by John Perkins Field; and The Changing Nature of Irish-Italian Relations by Joseph A. Varacalli.

  My thanks to Tina Donato for her insights and for taking me to all of the pertinent Sinatra sites in Hoboken, allowing me to enjoy the atmosphere and ambience and to get a sense of what it must have been like for Sinatra and his family in the 1930s and ’40s. Doris Sevanto, who no longer lives in Hoboken but took the time (and incurred the expense) of returning there after twenty-five years to assist me, was invaluable to my research. I am grateful for her amazing memory, good cheer, and hospitality. Thanks are due those who submitted to interviews, including Tony Martin, Tom Gianetti, Rocco Gianetti, Thomas LaGreca, Debra Stradella, Delilah Lawford, Tom Raskin, and Salvatore Donato. Thanks also to Lisa’s Italian Deli on Park Avenue in Hoboken.

  My special thanks to Joseph D’Orazio, a friend who was close not only to Sinatra but to Hank Sanicola and Emmanuel “Manie” Sacks. He and I became pals during the course of my five years of research, and I thank him for so many hours of interviews. “Joey Boy” is one of a kind.

  I was deeply saddened by the recent death of Nancy Venturi, who, even though she was quite ill, spent hours sharing vivid memories of young Frank. I will miss her.

  Thanks to the staff of the Hudson County Courthouse for its assistance in locating certain arrest records and other court documents relating to Sinatra’s arrest on morals charges vital to my research. My thanks also to the staff of the Hudson County Records Bureau. I also reviewed editions of the Hudson Dispatch to confirm other details.

  Throughout this book, I culled quotes from many published and televised interviews with Mr. Sinatra as well as from radio broadcasts. Most helpful to the early years was “He Can’t Read a Note but He’s Dethroning Bing” (Newsweek, March 22, 1943); “Sweet Dreams and Dynamite” by Jack Long (American Magazine, September 1943); “The Voice” (Newsweek, December 20, 1943); “Phenomenon, Parts I and II” by E. J. Kahn Jr. (New Yorker, 1946); “Star Spangled Octopus” by David G. Wittels (Saturday Evening Post, 1946); “The Nine Lives of Frank Sinatra” by Adela Rogers St. John (Cosmopolitan, 1956); “When Ol’ Blue Eyes Was Red” by Jon Wiener (New Republic, 1986); “Here’s Why Sinatra Is a Camp” by David Hinckley (Daily News, March 13, 1994); “Frank Sinatra Had a Cold” by Gay Talese (Esquire, April 1966); “Lauren Bacall—’Be Open to Whatever Happens’” by Dotson Rader (Parade, May 18, 1997); and Dark Victory: Ronald Reagan, MCA, and the Mob by Dan E. Moldea.

  Frank Sinatra gave a lecture at Yale Law School in May 1986 for the Zion Lecture Series. The transcript of thi
s lecture proved an excellent source of information.

  I also referred to “The Un-American Activities in California—the (California) Senate Fact-Finding Committee on Un-American Activities, Third, Fourth and Fifth Reports” (Sacramento, 1947), which is on file at the Margaret Herrick Library of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills.

  I reviewed the personal papers and files of columnist Sidney Skolsky and the files of the Production Code Administration, also on file at the Margaret Herrick Library.

  Nancy Sinatra’s two books, Frank Sinatra: My Father and Frank Sinatra: An American Legend, were both helpful in forming a time line. I was careful to independently verify her material, however, and found that her work is accurate. Where points of view differ as to the Sinatra family’s opinion on certain issues and the views of others, I attempted to present both sides. I also studied the authorized television miniseries Sinatra, produced by Frank’s daughter Tina, to glean details of the official family viewpoint, and studied the narration by Frank Jr. of his oral history and musical study of his father, As I Remember It.

  I also made judicious use of Kitty Kelley’s Sinatra biography, His Way, in order to establish a framework of Sinatra’s life, but was certain to independently verify information from her research before incorporating any of it into my own.