Medford mail tribune. (Medford, Or.) 1909-1989, October 05, 1958, Image 38

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    Donah
ho re: first lady of television
4 ' rT-
k. -y
,t
-
1. Jimmy Durante says he has never been treated at tenderly as he was by Dinah..
2. Even high-stepping dancers like Shirley MacLaine can't exhaust Dinah's pep.fc
3. Inhibitions? Dinah never met one, as these vaudeville-like high jinks prove.
Family Weekly, Oelober 5, 1954
by
Oo far this year Dinah Shore has
won two Emmies, Radio-TV
Daily's Award as "Woman of
the Year and Top Vocalist on TV,"
the Sylvania Award, the Peabody
Award, and the Downbeat Award;
and she placed No. 1 on more than a
dozen fan-magazine polls.
No one will deny that she is tele
vision's First Lady. It's a lot harder
to answer the question why?
Here are the explanations most
offered for Dinah's success:
"It's her voice." Yet Frank Sina
tra's records outsell Dinah's two-to-one
and his show was one of last
season's biggest flops.
"It's her appearance." She has
pleasing features, but she's no beauty
queen although she once had a fair
chance of winning the title, "Miss
Centennial Park Pool," in Nashville,
Tenn. When her father found out that
a picture of his daughter, clad only in
a bathing suit, would appear in the
daily paper he made her withdraw
from the contest!
"She's a shrewd business woman
and has a knack for getting the best
available talent on her show." The
talent available to Dinah consists of
the same people available to Steve
Allen, Ed Sullivan, and anybody else
willing to pay the price.
As for being a financial wizard, we
found only one person who was thor
oughly convinced of this. And he was
from the Internal Revenue Service
which as a matter of habit con
siders every citizen shrewd at trying
to save on his taxes!
His experience with Dinah occurred
a few years ago when she charged off
her television wardrobe as "a neces
sary business deduction," claiming
that her gowns, which cost between
$300 to $700 each, were not suitable
for personal use.
"Why can't you wear them to pri
vate parties?" the Internal Revenue
man argued when he called on her
at the NBC studio.
Peer J. Oppenheimer
Family
"You come to my house this eve
ning and I'll show you!" Dinah insisted.
A few hours later she gave one of
the most unusual fashion shows in
history proving that her television
clothes were so tight she couldn't pos
sibly sit down in them. She succeeded
in winning her deduction.
"But that," insists Dinah, "is more
female reasoning than business sense.
You just ask George."
She was, of course, referring to
her husband, actor-rancher-furniture
builder George Montgomery, who is
also financial head of the household.
trover
'pi f N?
"Dinah is right," George declared.
"She knows nothing about money. I
put her on a weekly allowance long
ago, but she can't keep track of that."
A few months ago Dinah went to
Texas on a personal-appearance tour.
Finding herself without money after
a couple of days, she tried to cash her
allowance check at the hotel. The
cashier's mouth dropped open when
he saw the date on it April 23, 1951!
So what's the real reason for
Dinah's success?
The answer was given by Bill
Powers, advertising manager for the
automobile company that sponsors
her show. "Dinah is our No. 1 sales
man," he insists, "I'm convinced she
could sell anything to anyone."
She could, and she did. Without
this ability, she would never have
been able to overcome her father's
opposition to show business.
riNAH's father, Sam Shore, owned
a small department store in
Winchester, Tenn., where his
daughters Elizabeth nicknamed Bes
sie and Frances Rose now better
known to fans as Dinah were born.
Dinah seems to have inherited her
talent from her mother, Anna Shore.
While her father was proud of his
wife's voice, he called it "nonessen
tial" and "frivolous" when he found
she was taking singing lessons.
When Anna Shore died at 45, Dinah
lost her staunchest supporter. That
she finally talked her father into giv
ing not only his approval, but also
financial support, proved she had al
ready mastered salesmanship.
The first hints that Dinah was a
little extrovert who needed an audi
ence were upsetting to her older
sister Bessie.
Bessie, now the wife of Dr. Maurice
Seligman of Los Angeles, remembers
a typical Saturday evening when she
was on the front porch with a boy
friend, looking at the moonlight and
feeling romantic. Suddenly, Dinah's
bedroom window flew open, and the
younger sister bellowed several verses
of "My Old Kentucky Home."
"I was so mad I could have kicked
her," Bessie recalls with a grin. "I
settled for her promise that she would
never do it again."
She kept the promise. The next time
Bessie entertained one of her beaus,
Dinah played the ukulele!
Dinah first began thinking of a
singing career while attending Hume
Fogg High School, after her family
had moved to Nashville. She even
took a few vocal lessons, but her
extracurricular activity as cheer
leader did not improve her voice.
Two weeks after her first lesson,
Dinah and her singing teacher came
to an amicable parting. "That was the
sum total of my formal voice instruc
tion," she says. "My original lyric
soprano had changed to a contralto."
Then she turned to dramatics for a
spell. Long before she became a
member of the high school's dramatic
society, she had demonstrated her
capabilities with Saturday afternoon
recitations in her father's store.
Dinah appeared in a number of
high-school plays and during her
sophomore year at Vanderbilt Univer
sity sang herself into a quarter-hour
program of her own at a local radio
station, WSM. For this she earned
$2.50 per show. True to form, she
often left the checks in her purse or
between the pages of a book for
months, upsetting the composure of
the station accountant.
The initial showdown with her
father came when Dinah wanted to
appear with a local Summer stock
company. In addition to his objec
tions to show business in general, he
felt she was too young to travel alone
for performances in nearby cities.
The best way to get him to change
his mind, Dinah reasoned, was through
her older sister. Although already
married to Dr. Seligman, Bessie
offered to accompany Dinah on all
out-of-town engagements. Her father
gave his consent.
It was during her senior year in
college that Dinah really became
anxious about her career. As presi
dent of her sorority, she was sent to
Vermont for a convention. On the way
back, she visited a friend in New
York City where she managed an
audition at radio station WNEW.
She,, had no trouble selling the
manager on giving her a job particu
larly on a sustaining show, which
meant she worked for nothing. How
ever, Dinah gained some valuable
experience and, what proved to be
more important, an even more valu
able friend. Martin "Ticker" Free
man, an accompanist who was work
ing at a music publishing house at
the time, played for her audition. He
is still her accompanist, friend, critic,
and idea man.
Her New York sojourn ended
abruptly when her father made her
come home to Nashville to finish
college. Before she did, Dinah had
won at least a limited victory his
promise that once she got her degree
he'd allow her to return to New York.
Twelve months later, with a degree
in sociology, she was back in
New York, comfortably settled
in a medium-priced hotel with $250
she realized from selling some of her
camera equipment.
Dinah was in a number of sustain
ing shows which gave her experience,
but no money. As her funds dwindled,
she kept moving to cheaper quarters
until she finally shared a one-room
apartment with four other girls. She
was literally down to her last dime
when she called her father for help.
Only this time she used reverse
psychology telling him she was
ready to quit and come home.
There is no record of exactly what
was said during the phone conversa
tion, but before it was over Bessie
had gotten into the act; and by the
time Dinah hung up, Mr. Shore had
promised to send Dinah enough money
to keep her going as a singer until
she got a paying job.
She did before long, and a short
time later got her big break in the
form of a two-week engagement at
the Strand Theater.
On opening night, she not only sold
herself to one of the country's tough
est audiences, but to her father as
well. When the show was over, he was
so outspokenly proud of his daughter,
one would have thought show busi
ness had been his idea!
Dinah's next big sales job was al
most Machiavellian. But then, the
bait was more elusive, the stakes
higher, Dinah more determined.
The subject was matrimony. The
victim was tall, handsome, romantic
actor George Montgomery.
Her campaign started on a hot
Sunday afternoon in Atlantic City,
N. J., where Dinah was a featured
singer with the Milton Berle show.
As she strolled along the boardwalk
on the way to the Steel Pier, she was
fascinated by the "Coming Attrac
tions" poster at the Boardwalk The
ater more specifically, the star of
the next feature, "The Cowboy and
the Blonde." She insists that one look
at George's picture made her decide
she was going to marry him.
Dinah's more immediate desire was
to get the picture. Since the poster
was the only one available, she talked
the theater manager into giving it to
her. By the time she met "Corporal
Montgomery" at the Hollywood Can
teen where she worked as a hostess
twice a week during World War II
it had become the most widely trav
eled advertisement in the world.
They became a steady twosome who
saw eye-to-eye on everything but
matrimony. Dinah wanted to get
married; George didn't, particularly
not after he received orders to pro
ceed to Alaska to test equipment un
der Arctic conditions. George helped
prove that GIs could survive but in
his case, not too well. He caught
bronchial pneumonia and came down
from his normal 185 pounds to 165.
Meantime, Dinah pursued several
methods in her matrimonial campaign.
She started with emotion-packed love
letters, switched to no letters at all,
and finally, in a last desperate attempt
to make him jealous, treated him as
"one of the boys in the service" but
slipped into her notes to him refer
ences to imaginary boy friends who
took her out night after night and
asked to marry her.
George finally caught the bait, and
proposed by mail. But the letter ar
rived two months 'after they were
married on Dec. 5, 1943.
Family Weekly, October 5, J95