Hollywoodland

September 26 2025

ALL SLANDERS GREAT AND SMALL

Early Confidential left no stone unturned—including the ones its reporters were hiding under.

Despite the efforts of websites such as ours, time winnows out celebrities that were once considered important. In a dozen more years, save for massive stars, we suspect people won’t be interested in the stories of old Hollywood personalities at all. But what stories they are. As you may know, Confidential was the top gossip rag in the U.S. before it was neutered in the courts. That was in 1957. The issue you see here is from 1956, when it was still running riot through Hollywood.

Editors accuse Fernando Lamas of cheating on his wife Arlene Dahl, as well as popularizing the use among Hollywood insiders of a “drug store cold remedy” in sexual practices. The only thing the magazine won’t reveal is which cold remedy. But we figure it was Vicks VapoRub, which some people believed aided in erections. To give you a sense of how sneakily subversive Confidential was, consider the hint readers are given in the form of the alleged telephone exchange “granite.” That’s clever.

Moving on, Eddie Fisher is said to have bedded three women, one after another, in a room in Detroit’s Cadillac Hotel. We doubt Fisher complained about this tale. For one thing, it’s said to have happened in 1952, which was before he was married to Debbie Reynolds, and it makes him out to be a superlover: The girls sighed heavily. They’ll never forget him.

Confidential next tells readers that Bob Topping, aka Henry J. Topping, Jr., punched his wife—none other than Lana Turner—after she returned from having disappeared with singer Billy Daniels during a social gathering: Topping stood in a towering rage. He hit Lana with a left hook that caught her on the chin and knocked her across the room and onto a couch.

Readers learn that Anita Ekberg’s marriage to Tony Steel was more of a formality than anything else—the two had been shacking up for months before the wedding: As sizzling a test flight as any couple ever took. By the time they made it legal what they didn’t know about each other wasn’t worth knowing.

Star baseballer Jackie Robinson is said to have borrowed boxer Joe Louis’s apartment in the Sugar Hill section of New York City and called up a couple of beautiful girls one sweltering summer night. The enticement? Just like in The Seven Year Itch it was air conditioning, according to Confidential. Once there, Jackie convinced the girls to play strip poker. If the girls lost, they’d give up the goodies to Jackie and his two pals. If not, no dice. Down to the final hand between he and a blonde beauty, both clad only in underwear, Jackie lost.

We had doubts about this one. Why strip down to nothing only to leave? But the story has a fun detail: Everyone was naked at one point except Jackie and the blonde, who as mentioned were wearing only undies. Jackie won the next hand and thought he won the game and was about to hit the bedroom with her. But instead of shucking her panties she pulled out a removable rear dental bridge and said that counted as an article of clothing. Jackie gave in and lost the next hand. Feels real doesn’t it?

Confidential claims that Orson Welles, allegedly a practicing hypnotist, used his talents to seduce Francesca de Scaffa: Fat Boy grasped her by the arm and gave her the full treatment from his big brown blinkers. Then he said, “Come with me.” The story goes on to say he made her dance around nude in his hotel room and more, but who was the witness on this one? Did Confidential have a reporter at the keyhole? At least the Jackie Robinson story has a few plausible witnesses. Who revealed this tale? Welles? De Scaffa? Hmm…

The magazine goes on and on. Others stretched on the rack include Esther Williams, Joe Kirkwood, Cathy Downs, and William Wellman. As we said at the top, the names are fading into the mists of time, but the passions, the pratfalls, the loves, the rages, all make for fascinating reading. We enjoy doing our part to bring these old stories into the digital realm, and we hope they inspire you to make legends of your own. They won’t be remembered forever, but the fun is in living them. More scans below.

Vintage Pulp

April 19 2024

REST UNEASY

When there's a killer on the loose you'd better sleep with one eye open.

This poster for While the City Sleeps doesn’t impress with masterly art the way so many vintage promos do, but its simplicity is, in an oblique sort of way, we think, meant to echo tabloid covers from the era. RKO made a special poster in collaboration with Confidential magazine, which you’ll see below. The movie’s plot is pure tabloid fodder. A serial killer has slain women in New York City, leaving the cryptic message “Ask mother,” written on the walls of one murder scene. Vincent Price, owner of Kyne News Service, part of a media empire comprising ten newspapers, a wire service, and other interests, offers the position of executive director to three employees in order to draw them into cutthroat competition with each other. Soon it becomes clear that finding the identity of the “lipstick killer” is the winning move. Intrigue and subterfuge take over the office. Everyone gets involved, from senior editors to stringers to gossip columnist Ida Lupino, but the killer is too clever to be caught.

At least until intrepid Pulitzer Prize winning television reporter Dana Andrews airs a scornful and taunting broadcast, deliberately setting up his own fiancée as bait. He doesn’t even ask her permission. Well, he does, but only after arranging to publish their engagement announcement in the New York Sentinel right next to a story about the killer. Reckless? Yes. Presumptuous? For sure. There are intertwined plotlines here, but Andrews using his true love as a lure was the most interesting aspect for us. He isn’t the only heel on display. The movie is ostensibly about a serial killer, but is really a framework for exposing backbiting and cynical ambition in the big city. Director Fritz Lang, in what was his penultimate U.S. film, explores the cruel banality of what, these days, some call “hustle culture,” and brings the production to a conclusion that’s, in the words of Thomas Mitchell’s character, “Neat, but nasty.” Our words are: a mandatory watch. While the City Sleeps had a special world premiere today in 1956.

Edit: Vintage movies are excellent windows into bygone customs and practices. There’s a great moment in this one. Rhonda Fleming and James Craig are chatting in her apartment late one night when the doorbell unexpectedly buzzes. They look at each other confused for a second, then Fleming says, “It’s probably the drugstore. That was the last bottle of Scotch.”

You know, there were a lot of things wrong with the mid-century era. But there were a few things right too. Getting the all-night drugstore to deliver booze has to be one of the most right things we’ve ever heard of, so we give thanks to While the City Drinks—er Sleeps—for clueing us in, and suggest you call your congressional rep immediately and ask for a law allowing pharmacies to deliver alcohol. If not for yourself, do it for the children.

New York City, RKO Radio Pictures, Confidential, While the City Sleeps, Dana Andrews, Rhonda Fleming, George Sanders, Howard Duff, Vincent Price, John Barrymore Jr., Ida Lupino, Sally Forrest, Fritz Lang, poster art, cinema, tabloid, movie review

Hollywoodland, Intl. Notebook

January 26 2022

CONFIDENTIAL TAKEDOWN

The king of tabloids sets its sights on the Queen of Greece.

Every month when Confidential magazine hit newsstands, we imagine Hollywood celebrities receiving the bad news that they’d made the cover, and going, “Shit.” This issue published in January 1964 features Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, Frank Sinatra, and Jill St. John. The first three members of that group probably took the news in stride, since they were all tabloid staples by then. St. John wasn’t quite at their level, but her links with Sinatra kept her in the scandal sheets for a while too.

A person who wasn’t used to Confidential‘s attentions was Frederica of Hanover, who at the time was Queen Consort of Greece—which is just a fancy way of saying she was married to the King of Greece. Confidential says she was a Nazi, a pretty serious charge, needless to say. Was she? Well, her grandfather was Kaiser Wilhelm II, as a girl she was a member of Bund Deutscher Mädel, which was a branch of the Hitler Youth, and she had brothers in the SS. Also, back in 1934 Adolf Hitler wanted to link the British and German royal houses, and tried to pressure Frederica’s parents into arranging for the seventeen-year-old girl to marry the Prince of Wales, Edward VIII. And as Queen Consort she made a habit of meddling in Greek politics in ways that made clear she was not a fan of democracy. None of that is a particularly good look.

She had defenders, though, who believed that for a person in her position it would have been impossible not to have been a member of certain groups and to have socialized with Nazis. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how the rich and powerful always benefit from a special set of excuses? People can’t really expect her to have made a stand, can they? But the excuse is hollow. As a high ranking royal she could have avoided anything she wished. Membership in organizations when she was a little girl is one thing, but as an adult she could have denounced Nazism with damage to her reputation the only potential result. A damaged reputation is no small thing, but if we expect resistance from people who’d have been imprisoned or shot for doing so, we should probably expect the same from people who would have suffered mostly dirty looks.

Confidential focuses on Frederica’s July 1963 visit to England. The visit was no big surprise—Frederica, her husband King Paul of Greece, Queen Elizabeth, and her husband Prince Philip, were all related. They were all direct descendants of Queen Victoria. Monarchy is a funny thing, isn’t it? The visit triggered a protest of about three thousand British leftists that was violently broken up by five thousand police. The protestors carried banners that said, “Down with the Nazi Queen.” After mentioning this fiasco, Confidential delves into Frederica’s history, some of which we’ve outlined above, then loops back to the protests, which she blamed on the British press. But she had already reached a level of notoriety that usually brought out protestors who loudly booed her, particularly in Greece. She eventually retreated from public life, became a Buddhist, and died early at age sixty-three.

Confidential’s unexpected exposé on Frederica wasn’t out of character for the magazine. It was the top tabloid dog in a very large kennel. It had an expansive staff, serious reporters, hundreds of informers spread across the U.S. and Britain, and published stories about heavy hitters from all sectors of society. It had a regressive political agenda, as its article filled with terrible slander against gays and lesbians makes clear, but even with its rightward slant it took pains to keep its reporting framework factual. That makes it a priceless source of contemporaneous info about public figures, particularly of the Hollywood variety. We doubt we’ll ever stop buying it, because we never know who we’ll find inside. Twenty-plus scans below.

Musiquarium

May 29 2020

ANGELINA JOLLY

If you're happy and you know it drop your shirt.

Here’s a historical curiosity. Above are two pressings of an album from Angelina, aka Angelina the Singing Model, released in 1957. Sharp-eyed readers may notice that the sleeves use the name and title font of the iconic mid-century tabloid Confidential. The platters were put out by Davis Records, owned by recording entrepreneur Joe Davis, and try as we might, we uncovered no connection between him and Confidential publisher Robert Harrison. Anything is possible, though. They were both New York based, were both publishers—though of different media—so we bet they knew each other. Did Harrison have any idea his font had been borrowed? There’s no way we can know.

During the summer of 1957, when this album was recorded and hit stores, Harrison was deeply involved in the libel case that would lead to him selling Confidential. The trial was in L.A., and he stayed in NYC, refusing to appear in court out west, but even so the proceedings kept him plenty busy. Too busy to notice that a novelty album infringed on his logo? We doubt it. Someone, somewhere in Manhattan, would have said, “Hey, Robert, have you seen this new record that uses the font from your magazine?” For that reason we can’t help feeling there’s some link between Davis and Harrison that led to the look of these LPs, but for now that will have to remain a mystery.

Moving on to the singer, Angelina was actually New York City-based Joyce Heath, who later founded Joyce Heath and the Privateers. These platters, unlikely as the possibility seems, may have actually helped launch her career. As we said, they came in 1957, and Heath’s first recordings under her own name were in 1959. Maybe she kept her semi-topless starring role on the cover of Confidential quiet, but we think it more likely she embraced it. While she does show her breast on the second cover, one little boob, after all, was not that big of a deal post-Monroe and Mansfield.

The album had either a repressing or was initially released with two sleeves. Since there are two levels of explicitness, we suspect the latter. Davis probably wanted a suggestive cover, and one that was even more risqué. On the other hand, the change in Heath’s hair color suggests the former possibility—two pressings at different times with a change of hairstyle between. Both albums have 1957 copyrights, though, which means little time would have elapsed. Alternatively it could be that Heath wasn’t the model for both covers. But we think she was. The second sleeve says in white lettering across her red shirt, “This is Angelina.” So there you go. And the first model, if you look past the hair color, resembles Heath strongly. At least to us.

And now we get to the music. You want to know whether it’s any good, right? Well, it’s a joke record, with double entendre songs like, “All the Girls Like Big Dick,” “Shake Your Can,” and “He Forgot His Rubbers.” We gave it a listen and all the tunes are cabaret style, pairing piano and vocal with no other accompaniment. Twelve tunes of that ilk would begin to sound similar anyway, but in this case, they really are all the same song. Same key, same tempo, same mood, etc. We have it on good authority Heath recorded this in one afternoon and what we heard sure lends credence to that assertion. Still, limited as the music may be, it’s pretty fun. If you want to know more about Joyce Heath, check the blog whitedoowopcollector at this link.

New York City, Confidential, Angelina the Singing Model, Joyce Heath, Joe Davis, Robert Harrison, album art, tabloid

Hollywoodland

May 28 2019

CONFIDENTIAL REPORT

Everybody who was anybody was fair game in Harrison's Hollywood.

In independent journalism there’s a battle raging at all times, as those with power attempt to intimidate the press, make its work difficult, control its narrative, restrict its access, redefine what constitutes journalism, or even cast individual members of the press as public enemies. It’s a battle that never ends. Confidential magazine was an important soldier on the journalistic battlefield. For ages anything that appeared in Hollywood gossip magazines was carefully crafted and groomed by the studios, which maintained power by denying access to all but officially accredited press outlets.

Maverick publisher Robert Harrison was a visionary who realized the public would open their wallets and pay for the lurid truth—even if the rush to get startling scoops meant the truth was sometimes only half-correct. Confidential appeared in 1952, and had the studios quivering in their boots by 1954. The issue you see here came later, this month in 1963, in what is acknowledged as the magazine’s later, tamer period, a defanging that came about thanks to numerous lawsuits launched by Hollywood stars, backed by powerful California politicians.

Confidential still managed to entertain, even if its stories were of a less invasive nature than before. But notwithstanding the new rules of engagement, some targets received particularly scathing treatment. Liz Taylor and Richard Burton were among them. The magazine says their legendary affair on the set of Cleopatra began as a studio publicity stunt, which backfired when Taylor actually fell for Burton—and into his bed. That may be true, but failure can be relative. On one hand Taylor’s squeaky clean image was ruined forever, but on the other the story of her affair generated immense amounts of free press for Cleopatra.

Other celebs who get cooked on the rotisserie include Joan Collins, Anthony Newley, Rex Harrison, Vince Edwards, and pioneering trans entertainer Christine Jorgensen. The magazine also tackled the issue of street prostitution in New York City and an epidemic of glue sniffing among American teens. We have a set of scans below and—stop us if you’ve heard this before—an entire tabloid index with thirty more posts about Confidential, to be found here.

New York City, Confidential, Robert Harrison, Liz Taylor, Richard Burton, Joan Collins, Anthony Newley, Rex Harrison, Vince Edwards, Christine Jorgensen, Sybil Burton, Buni Baker, Eddie Fisher, tabloid, lgbt, prostitution

Hollywoodland

November 14 2018

A BITE OUT OF HOLLYWOOD

Confidential sinks its teeth into the juiciest celebrity secrets.

Confidential magazine had two distinct periods in its life—the fanged version and the de-fanged version, with the tooth pulling done courtesy of a series of defamation lawsuits that made publisher Robert Harrison think twice about harassing celebrities. This example published this month in 1955 is all fangs. The magazine was printing five million copies of each issue and Harrison was like a vampire in a blood fever, hurting anyone who came within reach, using an extensive network spies from coast to coast and overseas to out celebs’ most intimate secrets.

In this issue editors blatantly call singer Johnnie Ray a gay predator, spinning a tale about him drunkenly pounding on doors in a swanky London hotel looking for a man—any man—to satisfy his needs. The magazine also implies that Mae West hooked up with boxer Chalky White, who was nearly thirty years her junior—and black. It tells readers about Edith Piaf living during her youth in a brothel, a fact which is well known today but which wasn’t back then.

The list goes on—who was caught in whose bedroom, who shook down who for money, who ingested what substances, all splashed across Confidential‘s trademark blue and red pages. Other celebs who appear include Julie London, Jack Webb, Gregg Sherwood, and—of course—Elizabeth Taylor. Had we been around in 1955 we’re sure we would have been on the side of privacy rights for these stars, but today we can read all this guilt-free because none of it can harm anyone anymore. Forty panels of images below, and lots more Confidential here.

Hollywoodland

November 27 2016

DIVORCE DE SCAFFA STYLE

Hah hah, I'm free! Drinks for everyone! My ex-husband's paying!

Why is this woman laughing? Because she’s just been granted a divorce. She’s actress Francesca de Scaffa and she was married to actor Bruce Cabot until today in 1951, when the photo memorialized her cheerful unfettering. Why is the man laughing? He’s Hollywood super lawyer Jerry Giesler, and he’s probably thinking about the fees he collected.

Strangely, Wikipedia lists de Scaffa and Cabot as divorcing in 1957, but we found wire photos stating unambiguously that they split in 1951. However, we also found references to the 1957 divorce. We can only guess the two remarried at some point, a supposition that makes sense considering we also found a photo of the two dining in December 1951 captioned in part, “Last night, guess who took [de Scaffa] night-clubbing? Right! Bruce Cabot.” The point of the caption being that divorced couples are not often seen out having a night on the town together.

It lends credence to the idea that they married twice, but don’t quote us on it. We will find out, though, because we’ll probably revisit de Scaffa a bit later—she’s true pulp material. Among her many exploits were acting as an informant for Confidential magazine, a liaison with the Shah of Iran, marrying a Spanish bullfighter, running afoul of Mexican officials who tried to deport her, two suicide attempts, and more. As far as her marriage(s) with Cabot go(es), we’ll put it(them) in the mystery file for now.

Mexico, Iran, Hollywood, Confidential, Francesca de Scaffa, Bruce Cabot, Jerry Giesler

Hollywoodland

January 17 2016

HOLLYWOOD HOME INVASION

Confidential climbs the stairs and creeps down the bedroom hall.

This January 1958 issue of Confidential, with Anita Ekberg and Gary Cooper starring on the cover, was released in the magazine’s prime, during the heyday of its special brand of slash and burn journalism. You can really see why Hollywood focused its efforts on neutralizing the publication—celebs and important figures get knocked down like ducks in a shooting gallery. Examples: Tita Purdom is caught cheating by her husband, Kim Novak got into movies with the help of a sugar daddy, Lili St. Cyr tried suicide twice and both times was saved by her husband Paul Valentine, and millionaire Bobby Goelet is dropped from the Social Register for dating a non-white woman. We’d like to get into each of those stories, but while we do have time to read them all, sadly we don’t have time to write about them all.

Because we have to pick and choose, we’re limiting ourselves today to Confidential‘s domestic violence stories. This was a regular focus of the magazine, and a very good example of just how untouchable

publisher Robert Harrison thought he was. First up is Rita Hayworth, who allegedly walked out on husband Dick Haymes because he beat her. Here’s scribe Alfred Garvey: “Haymes’ favorite form of assault was to grab Rita by her world-famed tresses and slam her head against a wall until her sense reeled. And the brutal beatings were part and parcel of their schedule wherever they went.” We should note here that Confidential was in no way a defender of women—the magazine published anything that made a celebrity look bad. It didn’t publish this story to expose Haymes, but to expose Hayworth. She’s the star—the reader must be left asking what’s wrong with her.

For evidence consider the story that appears a bit later in which Confidential accuses actor Jack Palance of beating women. “You can’t win all your fights, though, even with dames. One talked, and squawked, after a bruising evening with the ungentlemanly Jack and the result has been a tide of whispers [snip] literally a blow-by-blow report of how he conducted at least one romance.” The text goes on to describe the

assault in first-hand detail, but even though the writer seems to know every word spoken in that closed room, he never names the victim. This is not because Confidential cares about protecting her identity—if editors can name Hayworth they certainly can name a random aspiring actress—but because she doesn’t matter. Her identity would distract the reader.

The point to absorb is merely that Confidential had no compass, no aim at all except to generate terrible publicity for the famous. Some may have deserved it, but moral justice was never the goal. If the two previous stories weren’t enough, Confidential hits the trifecta with yet another domestic violence story about Bob Calhoun and big band singer Ginny Simms. In this one Calhoun gets a co-starring role—he was rich, thus worthy of mention. “Grabbing his shrieking bride by her pretty unmentionables, Calhoun yanked her off their nuptial bed and, in the same swift movement, uncorked a right that spun Ginny across the room like a rag doll.”

As far as we know nobody mentioned in any these stories sued. Confidential was impervious—at least for the moment. Celebrities just hunkered down and hoped the stories would fade. But Confidential‘s

circulation kept growing. Soon it would be one of the most widely read magazines in America, the indisputable king of tabloids. Hmm… king of tabloids has a nice ring to it. We’re going to use that—Pulp Intl. is the king of tabloid websites. You can work your way through more than three-hundred individual tabloid entries here.

Confidential, Anita Ekberg, Gary Cooper, Robert Harrison, Ginny Simms Bob Calhoun, Bobby Goelet, Lili St. Cyr, Tita Purdom, Edmund Purdom, Paul Valentine, Kim Novak, Rita Hayworth, Red Sanders, Jack Palance, Frank Sinatra, Walter Chrysler Jr., Gloria Green, Lynn Merrick, tabloid

Hollywoodland

July 16 2015

CONFIDENCE GAMES

Liberace experiences tabloid wrath at its most merciless.

It was in this July 1957 issue of Confidential that journalist “Horton Streete’ infamously outed cover star Liberace in the most vicious and dehumanizing way with an article entitled “Why Liberace’s Theme Song Should Be ‘Mad About the Boy’.” We’ve talked about it before. Streete willfully attempted to damage the singer’s career by spinning a shocking tale of how he attacked a young, male press agent. The article refers to Liberace as Fatso, Pudgy, Dimples, and other, less flattering monikers.

Here’s a rule you can count on—when a journalist or on-air personality constantly refers to someone by other than his or her name or title, it’s a hit piece. Liberace was horrified and sued Confidential. California Attorney General Pat Brown had already managed to win an indictment of the magazine two months earlier. Owner Robert Harrison was about to spend his entire summer in court. He took these legal threats to heart and publicly promised to stop publishing stories about the private lives of Hollywood stars.

Up until then Confidential had been as reckless as a magazine could be. This issue accuses Gary Crosby of punching a woman in the face, and Eartha Kitt of trapping her friend’s boyfriend in her penthouse. An extraordinary story about boxer Jake LaMotta suggests the he got a bum

rap in his morals trial. LaMotta was serving time for bedding a 14-year-old. Prosecutors had convinced a jury that the incident with LaMotta was a primary cause of the girl later becoming a prostitute. Confidential rides to the rescue, claiming that the girl’s father had already deflowered her, therefore LaMotta could not have had any influence on the girl’s fate. How’s that for a principled stand?

These early issues of Confidential are a cesspool of journalistic ethics, no doubt, but they’re also a visual treat. Using black, red, blue, and yellow, plus the white of the pages themselves, the designers put together a bold and gaudy package that would influence every other tabloid on the market. The layouts on Kitt, Liberace, Alan Dale, and Lex Barker are among the most eye-catching we’ve seen from the period. Elsewhere you get Anthony Quinn, and a host of other stars. We have a bunch of scans below. Remember, you can always see more from Confidential and other tabs by visiting our tabloid index at this link.

California, Confidential, Robert Harrison, Anthony Quinn, Liberace, Lex Barker, Gary Crosby, Jake LaMotta, Pat Brown, Alan Dale, Camille LaLonde, Jeanne Carmen, Broderick Crawford, Frances Langford, trial, tabloid

Hollywoodland

June 30 2015

PAYTON’S PLACE

No matter how far she ran dissatisfaction followed close behind.

This gold colored June 1963 cover for Confidential magazine is entirely given over to actress Barbara Payton, whose self-penned hard-luck story appears inside and details her life troubles. The tale is well known and is one we’ve touched upon before—early marriage and early motherhood, followed by stardom, romances, and riches, followed by booze, drugs, divorces and crime. Confidential being Confidential, the editors neglect to mention that the story here is not an exclusive, but rather is excerpted from I Am Not Ashamed, Payton’s painfully revealing autobiography.

I Am Not Ashamed did not sell especially well, and was pretty much forgotten a few years after its release. But it reappeared by chance two decades later when Jack Nicholson famously lent a rare copy to Jessica Lange to help her prepare for her femme fatale role in The Postman Always Rings Twice. Today the book is widely available. Just a few seconds reading Payton’s words conjures the suspicion she had a ghostwriter, and indeed, it was the king of lowbrow literature Leo Guild who gave shape to the prose, which reads like gutter level sleaze fiction.

For example: “He hated what I had been [but] loved me for what I was. He tortured himself. Every part of my body reminded him of another man.” And this bit: “I had a body when I was a young kid that raisedtemperatures wherever I went. Today I have three long knife wounds on my solid frame. One extends from my buttocks down my thigh and needed I don’t remember how many stitches.” Payton’s anecdotes are cringe worthy, but they read like she’d gotten a grip on her life. No such luck. After four more long years of drugs, drink, and disaster she was found dead on her bathroom floor in 1967.

Payton post-mortems usually describe her problems as self-induced, but that’s simplistic. In the 1950s famous men did anything they wished, but women had to be careful not to be seen doing the same. Still do today. That’s the part Payton had problems with. Even so, she had several happy periods during her life. One of those was the stretch she spent in Mexico married to a young fisherman. About this time she says, “We fished and I caught big ones, and we loved and for a couple of years it was beautiful. My big problems were what to cook for dinner. But it was inevitable the ants in my pants would start crawling again.”

We like that passage, because nearly all the stories about Payton declare, or at least suggest, that everything that happened after Hollywood stardom was part of a terminal plummet. That’s pretty much the default setting in American journalism—anything other than wealth and fame is by definition failure. It’s an idiotic conceit, even a harmful one, and Payton reveals that in Mexico she landed someplace solid and safe, and got along fine without money or recognition. Two years of happiness is nothing to take lightly. But she just couldn’t sit still—not because of where she was, but because of who she was.

And the spiral continued—cheaper and cheaper forms of prostitution, physical confrontations that resulted in her getting some of her teeth knocked out, and more. In all of these tales there’s a recurrent theme of lowly types taking advantage of her, but we can’t help noting that she was paid a mere $1,000 for her autobiography, an absurdly deficient amount for a former top star with a crazy story to tell, which suggests to us that guys in office suites take as much advantage—or more—of a person’s hard luck as guys in alleys. We have some scans below, and Payton will undoubtedly appear here again.

Mexico, Confidential, Barbara Payton, Franchot Tone, Leo Guild, Jack Nicholson, Jessica Lange, Glenn Ford, Linda Christian, Joan Crawford, Rocky Crawford, Gloria Grahame, Anthony Quinn, Susan Hayward, Catherine Deneuve, Jane Fonda, drugs, deaths, tabloid

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HISTORY REWIND

The headlines that mattered yesteryear.

November 15

1920—League of Nations Holds First Session

The first assembly of the League of Nations, the multi-governmental organization formed as a result of the Treaty of Versailles, is held in Geneva, Switzerland. The League begins to fall apart less than fifteen years later when Germany withdraws. By the onset of World War II it is clear that the League has failed completely.

November 15

1959—Clutter Murders Take Place

Four members of the Herbert Clutter Family are murdered at their farm outside Holcomb, Kansas by Richard “Dick” Hickock and Perry Smith. The events would be used by author Truman Capote for his 1966 non-fiction novel In Cold Blood, which is considered a pioneering work of true crime writing. The book is later adapted into a film starring Robert Blake.

November 13

1940—Fantasia Premieres

Walt Disney’s animated film Fantasia, which features eight animated segments set to classical music, is first seen by the public in New York City at the Broadway Theatre. Though appreciated by critics, the movie fails to make a profit due to World War II cutting off European revenues. However it remains popular and is re-released several times, including in 1963 when, with the approval of Walt Disney himself, certain racially insulting scenes were removed. Today Fantasia is considered one of Disney’s greatest achievements and an essential experience for movie lovers.

November 12

1912—Missing Explorer Robert Scott Found

British explorer Robert Falcon Scott and his men are found frozen to death on the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica, where they had been pinned down and immobilized by bad weather, hunger and fatigue. Scott’s expedition, known as the Terra Nova expedition, had attempted to be the first to reach the South Pole only to be devastated upon finding that Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen had beaten them there by five weeks. Scott wrote in his diary: “The worst has happened. All the day dreams must go. Great God! This is an awful place.”

November 12

1933—Nessie Spotted for First Time

Hugh Gray takes the first known photos of the Loch Ness Monster while walking back from church along the shore of the Loch near the town of Foyers. Only one photo came out, but of all the images of the monster, this one is considered by believers to be the most authentic.

November 12

1969—My Lai Massacre Revealed

Investigative journalist Seymour Hersh breaks the story of the My Lai massacre, which had occurred in Vietnam more than a year-and-a-half earlier but been covered up by military officials. That day, U.S. soldiers killed between 350 and 500 unarmed civilians, including women, the elderly, and infants. The event devastated America’s image internationally and galvanized the U.S. anti-war movement. For Hersh’s efforts he received a Pulitzer Prize.