Medford mail tribune., June 19, 1960, Image 39

By QUENTIN REYNOLDS
Q Back in the 1920t, the wage scale for re
porters on New York newspapers was about
that enjoyed by cotton pickers in the South.
If you had the temerity to ask your city edi
tor for a raise, he would look at you re
proachfully and say, "We can't give you any
more money, son, but after all look at the
interesting people you meet."
Like many cliches, this one is absolutely
valid in the writing business, you do meet
a lot of very interesting people. Since I was
first able to peck away (four-fingered meth
od) on a typewriter, I've made my living
writing about saints and scholars and scoun
drels, and many of these were the kind of
people you never forget.
Who were the most interesting persons of
all? They aren't necessarily the greatest, nor
- did all of them make a tremendous conrribu
tion to society, but I can say that I found
them likeable and interesting.
In alphabetical order, they are:
Mini I WO
Marlene Dietrich
The adjective "glamorous" usually pre
cedes any mention of Marlene Dietrich. The
untranslatable German word gemutlich fits
her just as well. That strange word, for
which we have no equivalent, means warm,
friendly, comfortable and Marlene is all of
these things.
One has only to meet Miss Dietrich three
or four times to realize that this is one of the
most fascinating and interesting women in
our land. Like Humphrey Bogart, she refused
to conform to the Hollywood pattern; she
always insisted on having a private life.
During World War II, she literally would
go anywhere to entertain GIs, even if it hap
pened to be within rifleshot of the front. This
didn't bother Marlene. I doubt that any per
former ever worked before warmer and more
receptive audiences than did the indefatigable
Marlene Dietrich.
Playwright Moss Hart and his wife, Kitty
Carlisle, are great friends of Marlene. They
live in a New York penthouse which has a
large terrace. One summer day I dropped
in to see them. Marlene and Kitty were
stretched out on deck chairs enjoying the
sun. Neither Moss Hart nor I could get in a
word because Kitty was talking about her
children, and Marlene was talking about her
grandchildren. Kitty asked Marlene if she
would stay for dinner.
"Not a chance," Marlene laughed. "To
night I am having my grandchildren all to
myself. Maria and Bill are going out and I am
baby-sitting. You know, the one thing I can
do is cook, and Maria is letting me cook for
the boys, give them their baths, and put them
to bed. I guess," she added , "I'd rather do
that than anything else in the world."
Fabulous? Glamorous? Gemutlich? I truly
think the word "wonderful" describes Mar
lene Dietrich better than any other.
Ernest Hemingway
Others can judge the eventual place in literature
which belongs to Ernest Hemingway. I have known him
for 25 years and have never spent a dull moment with
him. But he has one blind spot fishing.
Years ago, he owned a house in Key West, Fla., and
I spent a week with him there. To my dismay, I found
that I would have to go fishing with him every day. But
if you are a guest of Hemingway, you have no choice.
The first day we went out, Poppa gave me explicit
instructions on how to land a sailfish.
"When the sailfish strikes, let your line run out," he
said. "The sailfish will think he has killed the bait; he
will back away, then rush for it, then swallow it You
count 10, then jerk your rod high to hook him real good.
Then reel in. You will lose the first few," he added com
placently, "but after that you may get the hang of it."
We were about 15 miles off Key West, and mighty
rough it was, when a fish struck my line. I forgot every
thing Poppa had told me. I just reeled in, and soon there
was a sailfish nearly six feet long lying in the boat.
'That's no way to catch a sail!" Hemingway said angrily.
"Well, I caught him," I defended stoutly. "There he is.
Can we have him for dinner?"
"You don't eat sailfish," he said wryly.
"What do you do with sailfish?" I asked.
"You can have it mounted," he said sourly. "It will
cost you 10 bucks a foot"
'Then throw him back."
We fished all afternoon and ended up with 10 barra
cuda, several kingfish, six mackerel, and one wahoo.
Hemingway was excited about the wahoo. "You don't
get them often," he said. "They are great eating."
"We'll have it for dinner then?" I asked.
"Oh, no," he shook his head, "I always give whatever
fish we catch to the crew."
I admit that it was fun, but then it's always fun being
with Hemingway, whether on a boat, in a saloon, or in
his own home.
Leo Durocher
Leo Durocher has been a controversial
baseball figure all his life, but if you get to
know him well, you realize he is much
more than a former ballplayer and man
ager. Even his enemies in baseball will say
with reluctant admiration, "You have to
admit the guy has a lot of class."
When he was managing the New York
Giants and the team had an off day, Leo
and his then-wife Laraine Day used to
travel to Westchester where I had rented
a house. Invariably we played canasta
for a quarter of a cent Durocher hates
to lose at anything and more than once
he'd keep us playing until 3 a.m. to get
back the three or four dollars he and
Laraine were behind.
Durocher is a creature of paradox. He
never in his life avoided a fight. He once
tried to take on Babe Ruth, who out
weighed him by 100 pounds. He can be
caustic, cynical, and hard except when it
comes to children. , Once when Leo was
visiting us, publisher Bennett Cerf, a
neighbor, asked us to lunch. We arrived
early. The two Cerf boys, Chris and Jona
than, were awed at meeting their hero.
Durocher was just as impressed with them.
The three seemed bored with the rest of
us; finally they disappeared. They didn't
show up until five hours later.
"Sorry," Leo said, "but I was having so
much fun I forgot how late it was. Chris
and Jonathan introduced me to their gang,
and we went to the field where their team
plays. I've been trying to teach the kids
how to hit a curve ball."
"You're a great one to teach us to hit,
Leo," Chris piped up. "You never hit more
than .240 in your life."
"You're right, Chris," Leo admitted,
"and I never could hit curve balls."
Well, that's the Leo Durocher I know.
For Beatrice Lillie, please turn page