Despite his immense wealth,
Barbara Hutton's son is a level
headed, serious-minded young
man, says his starlet girl friend
in this exclusive story.
Family Weekly
June 28, 1959
Lance R event low:
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by Jill St. John
I've known Lance Reventlow for three years.
We've dated steadily for nearly a year. But only
now do I feel that I understand him.
I don't think many people do. Certainly not the
newspapermen who refer to him as "Barbara Hut
ton's poor little rich boy." Not the phonies who try
to befriend him for what they can get out of him.
Not his father, Count Kurt Haugwitz-Reventlow, to
whom he hasn't spoken in 10 years.
Lance is envied and pitied for his money: envied
because people think he can spend any amount
whenever and however he pleases; pitied because it
has made him lonely and distrustful.
From what I can tell neither is true.
I've never asked him directly whether he really
inherited $1 million on his 21st birthday two years
ago, and can draw up to $500,000 a year in advance
on the $50 million to $100 million inheritance that
someday will supposedly be his.
If this is true it doesn't show in his living.
According to one recent story, he owns a $200,000
hilltop mansion in Beverly Hills, an airplane, three
expensive cars a Rolls Royce, a Ferrari, and a
Scarab has a cook and butler, and buys me pres
ents that would have made Diamond Jim Brady
look like an unemployed orange picker.
What the story failed to mention is that the Rolls
Royce is 23 years old and was a gift from his mother;
that he'll keep the Ferrari at least five years he
drove his Mercedes six before he turned it in; that
the Scarab was built by his own company for pro
fessional racing purposes; that the Cessna 310 is
used primarily to fly his mechanic -drivers from one
race to the next; that his cook and butler work part
time, and that the jewelry I wear was purchased
almost entirely by myself.
Don't get me wrong. Lance is no pauper. He
doesn't pretend to be. "Some people are born with
brown eyes! I was born with money," he once said.
He spends his money cautiously. A few months
ago, for instance, his company, the Reventlow Auto
mobile Corp. which builds and races his Scarabs
was invited to participate in a Honolulu competi
tion. When Lance learned the cost of shipping the
car to Hawaii, he refused to enter. ,
He runs his company on a strictly business basis,
although he is conscious of his financial advantage.
He is no hungry racer who has to accept any com
petition that promises monetary rewards, or take
chances in those he does accept.
Lance spends money on himself even more care
fully. Some time ago I practically dragged him to
hi tailor because he hadn't bought a new suit in
months. When I was at Lake Meade, Nev., as hostess
and queen of the Sahara Cup Races, he refused to
go near a nickel slot machine. He considers gam
bling a waste of money.
However, no matter how he feels about it, being
Barbara Hutton's tn makes him the object of
money -grabbing schemes. So far no one has put
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Jill St. John and Lance have dated a year amid speculation of marriage.
Lance Reventlow (right) and Gaston Andrey win race at Elkhart, Wis. Cm C L I Xlj ill J
Heiress Barbara Hutton and her son get together only rarely. !. 10..,.. 3$XZ-' '.LAZI
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anything over on him. I doubt anyone ever will. I
know from experience!
When I came back from Lake Meade, my heart
was set on Lance's buying a cabin cruiser. I kept
hinting how much fun some of our friends had with -theirs.
I even talked him into visiting the Sports
men's Show in Los Angeles. Just when I thought I'd
talked him into placing an order, he grinned. "I
can't afford a boat but I love the way you try to
talk me into it," he said.
Most of the schemes directed at Lance don't in
volve business transactions unless one calls mar
riage a business. Wherever we go, he's pursued by
attractive, marriage-minded girls and aggressive,
prospective mothers-in-law. The fact that I'm with
Lance deters few of either category.
When we first met, Lance used to shun any type
of publicity gathering, such as premieres. Grad
ually I persuaded him to change his attitude. For
the sake of my career, I need to be seen in public,
with or without Lance. Naturally the fact that I'm
with him makes people want to write more about me.
Lance realizes this, and while he'll tease me that
I don't really want to become an actress, just a
movie star, he now goes to publicity functions with
comparatively little grumbling.
I can't blame Lance for being somewhat wary of
the attention he attracts, and the motives for it. He
is never completely sure whether people are inter
ested in him as a human being, or for his social and
financial position. Despite this, he has a bigger cir
cle of friends than anyone I know.
His closest pal is Bruce Kessler, also a race driver.
Generally speaking, Lance is not impressed by the
Hollywood crowd. He once admitted sharing his
mother's opinion that "Hollywood society is like
going down a sewer in a glass-bottom boat." He
does associate with a few entertainers, though
Gary Crosby, singer Jimmy Boyd, anil George
Burns' and Grade Allen's son, Ronit, at whose
home we first met.
My initial impreaekm ccmAnmd vhat I'd been
told: he seemed cold, shy, dietanl It took me quite
while to find out that he wa simply reserved.
I'd heard a lot about Lance's diult childhood:
the headlined custody battle his parents fought over
him; the endless stream of stepfathers (after Bar
bara Hutton divorced Lance's father she had pre
viously been married to Alexis Mdivani she be
cam the wife of actor Cary Grant, Prince Igor
Troubetzkoy, Porfirio Rubirosa, and Baron Gott
fried von Cramm); the years in boarding school as
a ward of the court when his parents couldn't reach
an agreement about who should raise him.
Except for a resentment against his father be
cause of the custody battle and the financial settle
ment he received from Lance's mother Lance has
developed no feeling of insecurity, harbors no bit
terness or disillusionment. He looks at his mother's
many marriages with deep concern for her.
Of all her husbands, the only one he cares for is
Cary Grant, who has no obligation toward him yet
treats him like his own son. Whenever Lance is sick,
and he has been plagued by illness since childhood
mostly asthma, which kept him out of the Army
Cary always calls or visits him.
Lance considers himself fortunate in also having
found a second mother. Like Cary Grant, she has no
obligation toward him, yet Bruce Kessler's mother,
Nina, is probably as close to him as I am. Certainly
she is with him whenever needed like the morning
he underwent minor surgery last Summer to relieve
a sinus condition. The operation was scheduled for
8 a.m. I figured if I got to the hospital by 10, I'd be
there before he came out of the anesthetic.
Nina Kessler arrived at 7:30 and stayed all day.
Every time Lance is ill and doesn't call her
promptly, she'll lovingly bawl him out, no matter
who's around, and he loves it.
In spite of seeing little of his own mother, Lance
is extremely fond of her. I could tell when we met
not long ago. , -
I was in New York to help publicize "The Remark
able Mr. Pennypacker" when Lance came into town
from Nassau where he had just won the Interna
tional Grand Prix as well as the Governor's Cup
the first time in 30 years this has been done by an
American. He told me his mother was staying with
his cousin, Jimmy Donahvie, on Long Island. He
wanted us to get acquainted.
Never in my life have I Uh more scared than
during the hour drive to H. Donahue's home. "Do
you think she'll like ?" I kept asking Lance.
"Of course, she will," ht assured me repeatedly.
When I persisted, he finally burst out, "Oh, be quiet
and stop worrying!"
I found JBarbara Hutton to be a warmhearted,
charming woman. And I think she approved of me.
If she didn't, she put on a most convincing show!
She treated Lance like somOon her own age,
rather than as a son. And when h way with her,
Lance appeared far more mature than his 23 years.
One reason Lance has become a well-adjusted
young man is that despite everything that's hap
pened he has developed a marvelous sense of humor.
He has told me many times, "If you can laugh at
yourself, you can laugh at anything."
Another reason is a degree of self-sufficiency that
makes him independent of others. He can work all
day on his cars, by himself. He will read for hours,
on every possible subject but particularly medicine.
As a result, he's acquired a good education al
though he attended only two months of college at
Pomona which he considered a sort of "Western
Ivy League." He's the brightest boy I've dated.
For someone supposedly born with a silver spoon
in his mouth, Lance is extremely capable of looking
after himself. The most wonderful room in his hill
top home is the kitchen, which he uses expertly.
One night we had a steak at one of Los Angeles'
better restaurants which served a flaming, peppery
kind of sauce that looked like Bearnaise, but wasn't.
Lance tasted it, smacked his lips, and wondered
aloud what ingredients it contained. The next time
he cooked dinner for me at his house he almost
always cooks, I never do we had steak with the
identical flavorful sauce.
Lance is pleasant to be with for many reasons.
He's tall, handsome, doesn't get drunk, seldom loses
his temper, and when he cusses he does it in a
foreign language!
His anger blows over quickly. Usually he feels
sorry afterward and tries to make up for it with a
gift. But contrary to what's been reported by the
press, Lance has never given me an expensive fur
coat or a 20-carat diamond ring. His presents have -included
a huge stuffed dog with a card addressed,
"to a big child," a watch, and a car hi-fi set which
he took from his Ferrari.
What are my own feelings toward Lance?
They should be quite clear, considering I haven't
dated anyone else for months.
However, we have never discussed marriage ex
cept once when a columnist reported mistakenly,
as usual that Lance would inherit $5 million the '
day he acquired a wife. "Why don't you marry mm
for your money?" I teased him.
Replied Lance with a grin, "For that much money
IH do anything but marry!"
If he ever changes his mind, there's little doubt
that he would make a wonderful husband with or
without his money.
0
O family Weekly, June it, J959
Family Weekly. June tS, 1959