Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 27 August 1952 — Page 17
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Inside Indianapolis By Ed Sevola
{ SEVEN YEARS is a long time to save for a trip to Europe. And yet, a seven-year dream was realized today for Miss Barbara McDougall, 434 Berkeley Rd., when the luxury liner Queen Mary steamed out of New York Harbor at 10:30
| a.m. <
To travelers such as Margaret Truman, a Grand Tour is fairly simple. Last year it was my good fortune to interview Miss Truman at the White House before she left. We met again in New York aboard the America and exchanged pleasantries en route. Miss Truman was thrilled with her new experience. Yesterday it was my good fortune to talk to Barbara McDougall, who for the past seven years saved Christmas money, bonuses, insurance dividends, interest from her growing savings account and surplus from her wages at the end of each week. Barbara's enthusiasm outshone Margaret’s. 4» BARBARA has been asked repeatedly, “How can you afford w European trip?” Her answer, intended primarily for girls who find a two-week vacation difficult to handle, is a lesson in thrift, patience and industry. First, she said, a girl has to make up her mind about a goal. In her case it was the Grand Tour. She then decided that she would watch her wardrobe, A careful clothes allowance was maintained. Tough on girls. : She majored in sewing during her two years at Butler University. Being “nimble with the thimble,” as Barbara puts it, does wonders for the dollar.
oe 0 oe
A FEW months ago. Barbara took an extra careful look at her budget and saw where she could squeeze in a movie camera—if she made her traveling coat and hat. It meant many evenings had to be spent at home. Barbara had lots of advice and encouragement from her mother, Mrs. Josephine McDougall, and grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson B. Gorsuch. But when she sailed today. she had a movie camera and a lovely tweed coat and hat. The bank account will suffer after this adventure which will take Barbara through six
It Happened Last Night
By Earl Wilson
1.AS VEGAS, Aug. 27—-Always being much in advance of other people, I lost my shirt before I got to “Lost Wages,” as the comedians call this city.” I lost my shirts around St. Paul. They caught up in Hollywood. So I had some to lose in this amazing boom town where the population’s around 30,000 week days—and almost double that on week ends. . One-arm bandits greeted us at McCarran Airport. But we held off till we got to Wilbur Clark’s Desert Inn—as it was only 10 minutes away. Eighty-one slot machines choked the lobby. “Get away from that machine, I'm playing two of them,” a woman snapped when my Beautiful Wife picked out a modest nickel-eater there at the Desert Inn And we hadn't even registered yet. One of the bosses, Morris Kleinman of Cleveland, laughingly said, “Now if you want to shoot craps, the table's right over there...” “Gee, you're hospitable,” I told him. “You take us to our craps table before you take us to our room.” In no time at all, we had a sure-fire system, to wit: Don’t play them. When Ed Wynn was here, he said: “I got a jackpot the easy way—two cherries and an ax.” Ww Hb YOU MUST see this city to disbelieve it. How it's grown in a couple of years. It's pressing Reno on divorces and marriages. Wedding chapels are open all night. all lit up, like some of the newlyweds. Las Vegas is thinking of taking on Miami
They're
- Beach next.
“Just imagine,” drug tycoon Red Kuster of Monrovia, Cal., said, “if one of my customers threw down $5 and said ‘Don’t give me any merchandise—I just want you to have the money.’ That's the way it is with the slot machine spenders.” But you do get great entertainment. Herb Shriner, Billy Daniels, Spike Jones, Diosa Costello and Kalentan, the strip-teaser, ‘the toast of New Orleans,” are headlining here—and geeminy, the food bargains. de® WH ONE SPOT even gives you breakfast to keep you around the slots. Over at the Silver Slipper, they serve you an enormous steak for $1.99. Herb Shriner’d come over from the Last Frontier where he works, for two of the steaks— one for his wife.
Americana By Robert C. Ruark
NEW YORK, Aug. 27—You may knock the British for a great many things, but generally speaking when they sit down to whip up a movie it comes out adult and worthy of watching by other than people who think that Martin and Lewis are hysterical and that Abbott and Costello constitute subtlety. The most fascinating suspenser since the early Alfred Hitchcock efforts is a thing called “Clouded Yellow,” which had me off the seat and sorely i in need of plasma most of the way, and was gently humorous as only the British can do it and tender in spots, besides. We may as well give up on mixtures of humor and terror and wry underplaying, here. The cousins across the way have got it cornered, and if they ran their empire as well as they make an occasional film we would not still be lending them money. I thought it impossible for anybody, too, to confect a believable, African picture that actually dealt with game and terrain and problems, but the British have done it again with a new one called ‘The Ivory Hunters,” a simple story devoid of blood and thunder and tumultuous heroines whose hair remains unmussed throughout elephant charges a cannibal attacks. ’ Ld THE PEOPLE who thrive on contrived situations won't like it, and the people who admire painted donkeys, got up as zebras, making phony charges, as in “King Solomon's Mines,” won't like it. But people who like color that isn’t glary and the best animal photography I can remember will see it twice or more. The thing opened the sther day with no heraldry to speak of. The standing line at the box office was a block long. My interest in the film was sort of personal, gince one of the professional hunters who kept the beasts from eating the talent is a friend of mine. Young Tony Dyer of Kenya was one of the double-rifie toters who stood guard over the photographers and the actors while they agitated the fauna on a game reserve for enough days to make all the animals angry. Protection of photographers is the toughest kind of body-guarding for a white hunter, bd: cause you have to keep the creatures in a stafe pf perpetual commotion while the guy with the camera gets his light right and his lenses ad-
justed. o H H
POOR OLD Dyer and Mr. Bunny Somebody, whose name I forgot, had a 6-day chore of keeping a herd of elephants stirred up to riotous wrath. There were over 200 elephants in the herd, and the photography was close, and Tony told me that he went through the last couple of days with a bottle of brandy in one hand and the .470 Rigby double in the other. “I have never been so bloody nervous in my life,” said the weedy protector of the poor, whose native name is tall, thin, and useless, “We are are shooting this picture in a reserve, and they
Barbara Takes Her Grand Tour
countries, France, Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Germany and England. However, it will not be the figure of her first bank account, established by her mother when Barbara was 11—$§1. ¢ > 2 ACCOMPANYING Barbara is a lifetime friend Betty Cramer, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. Edward Stilz, 460 W. 46th St. Betty is a schoolteacher in Delphi. Betty had a goal to reach, too, before going to Europe. Her father promised her the trip when she completed work on her master's degree. 8he won the prize. Barbara worked yesterday in the Adjutant General’s office at Ft. Harrison, where she is a fiscal clerk. Early last evenipg the two girls flew to New York. They'll be flying back from Europe Sept. 24, a dream ended but long remembered. Did that short junket this summer leave you disatisfied? Start saving, “You'd be surprised how money builds up when you strike a happy medium between fun and thrift,” says Barbara. hs < “BIG TEAM”-—On newsstands throughout the city and in the office of Crispus Attuck High School, a booklet appeared today. It's called “Athletics and Basketball at Crispus Attucks” by Ray Crowe and Junius A. Bibbs. Basketball Coach Crowe and Freshman Football Coach Bibbs deserve a pat on the back. If you've ever had any questions about Crispus Attucks and the boys and men behind the boys who make the school a great institution, you'll find the answers in the booklet. Besides plenty of. pictures and statistics, a reader finds plenty of food for thought . .. “The real core of the structure of the athletic program at Attucks was the constant uninterrupted ‘building in’ to the minds and hearts of the various coaches, of the various team players, of the teachers in the school. of the student body, and of the general community that no game is worthwhile unless the real spirit of true sportsmanship is used and portraved at all times notwithstanding anything to the contrary” . .. “It was not my job to build basketball teams with boys, it was my job to build boys with basketball teams.”
Las Vegas Gives One-Arm Greeting
“It's a great bargain,” Herb said, “and the nice thing is my wife doesn't lose more than $20 in the slots on the way out.” Women customers bought the steaks raw, and stuffed them in shopping bags when the offer started. Now you have to eat your steak on the premises. : Just looking around Las Vegas, I saw Liz Taylor and Jane Powell, Glenn McCarthy, Nils T. Granlund, and Clara Bow’s husband, Rex Hall Milton Reynolds was here but was disappointed. The slot. machines wouldn't accept fountain pens. Real estate's booming. If you win 18 nickels, a guy wants to sell you a lot. Every night you hear of somebody winning or losing $20,000 to $50,000. The gambling house owners look at the hordes getting rid of their coin and they say, “Well, it's better for them to do this than to spend it foolishly.” Gb THE MIDNIGHT EARL IN N. Y.... The Vice Probers think they might get some of the accused gents on the Mann Act... for taking gals over the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey to go to a night club. Mrs. Kay Kyser (Georgia “I Carroll), who has two dtrs., expects her 3d baby any second ... Four of the six “Miss Rheingold” finalists are married . , . so mebbe it'll be “Mrs. : Rheingold.” Headlines say the Mayor wants a “Sewer Probe.” What else is the Vice Mess? . .. Winthrop Rockefeller's gal, divorcee Jeanette Edriss, is loaded. Her pop owns the Hotel Olympic in Seattle . . Singer Christine Garden, a Grace Downs model, tours Loew’s theaters this week. Hollywood restaurateur Dave Chasen & BW celebrate 10 years hitched here Sept. 13 ... Ted (Bevere Camera) Briskin, Betty Hutton's ex, is bringing out a revolutionary new still camera. And dating Marlene Hoyte, N. Y. and L. A. model. Flew here over the week end to see her. That's Earl, brother.
Miss Garden
Humor, Terror Films Cornered by British
ask naughty questions of you if you kill animals in a reserve, and between agitating the elephants and teasing the rhinos I wound up a nervous wreck in the bloom of youth.” Tony had to shoot one elephant, an infuriated old one-tusked bull who broke off from the herd and lit out after Tony and his camera-grinding friend. The elephant picked up 100 yards on the pair as they took off over the sands, and when Tony finally turned to shoot him, the old bull's trunk was grasping at Tony. eo HB TALL, THIN and useless stopped short, spun, and shot the elephant through the eye, or some such. When they measured the distance, the dead elephant’s last track was nine yards away from where Tony stood. The photographer, I might say, kept taking pictures throughout the crisis. Then they both went back to camp and shook and shivered. I digressed for a few hundred words, but what I was going to say was that it is possible to make a movie without really soiling the intelligence of people who know something of what they're seeing. “Ivory Hunters” was a delight in that respect, and I'm sure glad that big bull didn't trample old Tony. He has had enough trouble from buffaloes and leopards, already. He's weary of being trod on.
Dishing the Dirt By Marguerite Smith
QT would be pleased if you would advise me when it is time to set out some flowers for bloom next spring and summer. Mrs. J. Frank Wilson, Rushville. A—You can set out plants any time now for next season’s bloom. I'm a firm believer in fall planting for practically everything from roses to perennials to strawberries. The exact time, of course, will depend on whether you are replanting
Read Marguerite Smith's Garden Column in The Sunday Times
an established border or starting a new one. If you're replanting you can safely wait until frost kills the flowers you already have. But if you're making a new border, then get after it right away. Irish, for one, ought to get into the ground promptly now to insure bloom next season. And whatever else you neglect, do prepare that soil well: For in that lies about 90 per cent of your success or failure. More about how-to in a later column. Q—Can African violets be raised in a gasheated house? Myrtle.Fanchally, 5410 E. 19th.
A—Yes, they can. For more details on African,
violet culture readers who send a self-addressed stamped envelope to Dishing the Dirt will receive The TIMES free leaflet on this popular plant. ;
~ The | Indianapolis Times
-iv »
/
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27, 1952
Visits Hometown—
Fisherman Phil Displays His
By GEORGE McEVOY
“HAVE YOU heard about 'a place called Doo-Wah-Ditty?
“It's awful small but it's awful pretty” If -you haven't heard of Doo-Wah-Ditty, then call the mortuary and get in an early bid at the graveyard. You're dead, brother. Hoosier Phil Harris has been singing the praises of the mythical town in his novelly, “That's What I Like About the South,” since shortly after the surrender at Appomattox, or thereabouts. And, he'll be singing it tomorrow night at the Indiana State Fair. Phil Harris is an oddity in show business. He's one of the few performers who got to the top and stayed there. Not many actors do that. Born in Linton in 1906, Phil moved to Nashville, Tenn., when he was 10, hence the southern drawl. And in Nashville he bean his career as a drummer with “Phil Harris’ Dixie Syncopators.” (Try that on your old gramophone.) He's still a jazz fiend. Plays a la Dixie every
chance he gets. #” ~ .
type he portrays on radio and in films, he's soft-spoken, almost overly polite. Sort of a southern-gentleman type with Hoosier wit thrown in for spice. “I haven't conquered , (the world yet,” he says, “but wait until I shift into second, bub. Wait ’til I shift.” But he follows the crack with that infectious grin to show all is well with the world and Phil is just playing his radio role again.
TALKING TO Phil, one is " pleasantly surprised. Instead of the brassy, eager-beaver
Phil is mighty thankful to radio. For years he played the tough one-night-stand circuit with his band, touring for a considerable time in Australia. “I never voted until recently,” he said, “because 1 never had a permanent address. Then, my mother and father both trouped with tent stock companies and dad played with circus bands. I didn't see much of them as a kid. I don't want »smy--Kids to be deprived of knowing their folks." n u n PHIL. REALLY is quite the family man. He and his wife, Alice, are proud of their daughters, Phyllis, 9 and Alice,
10, and spend much of their time with them. Of course Phil's commitments keep him on the road in the summer when his radio program is off the air. Right now the children are in camp like thousands of others, while Alice is in [{ollywood awaiting Phil's return from Indiana. “This has really been a treat getting back to Linton,” Phil said. "Seeing all my relatives and bovhood friends kept me busy and happy. 1 stayed with my uncle, Charley Perry, while there and we did a lot of fishing and hunting and just hanging around gabbing with old pals.” Besides being an avid woodsman, Phil has been bit hard by the golf bug. He won't say what his score is, but we know he's considered one of the best in Hollywood. He plays hard, too, just like he works. That and plenty of talent may be the secret of Phil's success. He is one of the hardest working men in" show business. One of the most astute businessmen, too. He's a perfectionist with his show, directing
definite
PAGE 17
kill
BOYHOOD CHUMS—Hoosier Phil Harris fishing in Sunset Strip Fishing Pond, Linton, with old pals, Bob Griffith” (center) and Tom McQuade.
proceedings with a mild but manner of getting things done. » » ” LATELY HE'S been thinking about going on television, He
has a 10-year contract at NBC, s0 he'll be on TV sooner or later. In typical Harris style, though, he is planning carefully before embarking in the
KINFOLK—Phil flashes the old personality smile, with uncles, Charley Perry (center) and Fred Perry,
Con Man....
OME three hundred cons, quartered in cell block “B” listened silently but nervously into the night for the grapevine to bring them the word on reprieves and pardons for the eight men scheduled to die in the chair.
Gerald (Big Boy) Jennings, who was pulling a flat 20-years, sat hollow eyed as he chain smoked his last pack of butts. Perspiration was standing out like goose pimples on his face and naked back. Presently he arose and tiptoed to his cell door, He stood there a couple of minutes to make sure the coast was clear. Then in a muffled voice he whispered, “Cell eight, you still awake?" “Yeah, I'm awake. What's on your mind?” came the soft reply. “You don’t have to answer, but, well, have you ever talked to the guy upstairs?” he inquired slowly. = ” ~ “WHATSAMATTER with you? Have you flipped your wig? We're on the top tier and there's no one over us.” “Yeah, I know that. but I'm talking about God. Have you ever asked Him for help in any way? Have you ever tried to find Him when you really needed help?” asked Big Boy. “Go to sleep punk. You've slipped a gear. I'm doing life. There's plenty of time left for me to hunt Him up, That is if He's needed.” Here the man in cell eight started to say something, but interrupted his conversation by, “Nix, here comes ah” u After the officer had walked slowly past, Big Boy shoved his mirror through the cell bars, making sure the guard was out of hearing distance before he spoke again. “Hey, eight,” he whispered, “I'll bet the guys over in death row are praying now. Do you reckon any of them will beat
This is the third of a series of short stories written by convicts in the Indiana Reformatory in Pendleton. The stories have been named winners in a contest held by The Reflector, newspaper at the prison. Names of the authors have not been used. They will be identified only by number.
the’ chair? We should have had word on it by now.” ~ » n THE MAN in eight replied sarcastically, “Look, punk, 1 don’t care to hear that Sunday School stuff, and if you can't talk on any other subject, take your head away from the bars and stick it in the jack.” Big Boy paused briefly, then went on as though he had not heard the other's remark. ‘I've done my time in stir, and I guess I am as rotten as the next guy, but I've never killed anyone —only financially, but I've been sitting here trying to imagine what those guys are thinking about, how they feel and so forth. I'll bet they wish they had never seen a rod or shank. “We count the days until we get out of prison. They are counting the days until they will go—someplace. I'll bet you my next interview that they are all praying this very minute—and maybe reliving their whole life. It’s a pretty deep subject for guys like us, but there must be an answer some-
place,” eoncluded Big Boy. ” » . “YEAH,” said the other
~yolce, “guess there is ‘an an-
new field. “TV is rough on performers,” he said. “You have to come up with a knockout script every week or they start saying ‘What ever happened to so-and-so?’ “Alice and I may do some guest shots this fall, hut at my age and with a family to support, I can't rush into a deal like television without being well-prepared.” It seems silly for Phil to worry like that. He's at the top in radio, movies, and personal appearances, like his show here at the Indiana State Fair, He's one of the most sought-after artists in the country, and England and Australia always assure him packed houses, But Phil Harris didn't want to talk much about show business. The Indiana air got him and he was in a mood for hunting and fishing. “Sav,” he commented, “you should see some of those babies I hooked down in Linton. This long.” He stretched his arms out to indicate the size of a fair-sized
manta ray or porpoise. " LJ »
ALSO, HE was lonely for his wife and family. After 17 years of band-troup-Ing, Phil has settled down in a big way. He joined a country club and bought a home with eight acres of land. Now he doesn’t like to wander too far from the fireplace. But tomorrow Curly Harris and his band will be wowing them at the State Fair just as he has everywhere else. He'll start their heels clicking with “Darktown Poker Club” and “The Thing.” But there is one
By No.
kind of
“thing” most of the fans won't know, The busloads from Linton will know, but “they ain't talkin'.” However, I am. Being a natural-born heel, I'll reveal the one, big, dark secret of Phil Harris’ life. His real name is—now get this—Wonga Phil Harris. Yeah, he was named after an Indian. Wonga-—oh, brother.
PERFECT HARMONY — Phil and Alice.
36374
(Serving 1-10 years for assault and battery with attempt to rape.)
swer, but I've never been taught what it was. I guess those guys are going through hell over there. It's a big problem I reckon, when you try to study everything out.
“Somebody took care of us before we were born, someone made us and is taking care of us now; so I guess it's right to guess that someone will take care of us after we die. I guess
there really is a God. I've never talked with anyone like this before. In fact, I never gave religion a second thought. I always figured the other man could take care of that.”
“That's exactly what I mean,” interrupted Big Boy. ©41f God doesn’t think a man is guilty, then I don’t see how he can die, even though he goes to the chair and is volted out of life. 1 think he will stick
around some way. Maybe, in another form or something.” " » " “EIGHT,” he went on, “the guy in-cell one at death row is one of the grandest guys you would meet, He's friendly, generous and loyal The two of us grew up togeth-
er. He was the oldest, and he always looked out for me. This is his first time to be in trouble. The only difference bhetween us is that he pulled the
ever
trigger and I didn't. I don't know why I» didn't. I was plenty scared when the cops
got us cornered. “Now they are going to take his life. I've been sitting here praying for him and the other guys since the lights went out. I've never prayed before, but I know there is a God to help me. If this man dies, I don’t believe 1 could stand it. “1,” but Big Boy didn't continue, for suddenly the soft taps of metal on water pipes could he heard. The grapevine had the news. Soft beats of hands beating all walls also helped to tell the population that someone had been granted -something. Ld » n BY MOUTH the news ran down one cellblock and up the next one, as Big Boy paced his cell awaiting the story. At last,
whispered
what seemed eternity, all eight got the news whispered. ‘Seven, some guy named Jennings, same. as yours, got a last minute reprieve. No other action taken.” “Now I know there is a God. He saved the guy in cell one,” cried out Big Boy. “Good for him. Say is cell one any relation to you?” “Didn't I tell you? He's my brother and God has answered the prayers of a con man.”
v