In no time at all, my shy father realized that part of becoming a successful actor entailed creating and maintaining a high and glamorous profile. So, Dad became a player. . and there were no other places in Hollywood, with higher profiles for actors, than The Brown Derby on Vine St., Musso & Frank on Hollywood Bl. and the infamous Schwabs' Pharmacy, located on Sunset Blvd. near Crescent Heights. These were the happening places, close to studios. These were the places to do deals and be seen. My father, at any given time of day, could be found hobnobbing at these landmarks with his cronies. It was also where he started his drinking habit.
His favorite and least expensive haunt was Schwab's, as that was where one could really get discovered, it seemed, if the Lana Turner story was true. Schwab's sold medicines and had a counter serving ice cream dishes and light meals. The drugstore’s pharmacy, in the back, was where my blond bombshell of a mother, Paula Servetti, happened to work. She was very close with Jack Schwab, who hired her and took her under his wing, like a father. He babied her and bought her various necessities, clothes, and even a set of tires for her car, which were very hard to get in those days. One afternoon, she decided to sit at the lunch counter, instead of brown bagging it, which she usually did, for lack of finances. When my father spotted her, it was pretty much, all over for him. He wooed her, wrapped her up and ended his playboy days. Though Dad said she was "hard to get," they fell madly in love and in a very short time decided to elope. It seemed the most prudent thing to do, since the Goetten-Marlowe family did not approve of my mother, she being an Italian and from the poor side of town. A German woman of wealth was what they wanted for their son ~ of which my mother was neither.
Needless to say, that my when my father’s family, learned of the union, they became enraged beyond discription. Young and undaunted by the lack of their blessings, my stunning parents settled into the razzle-dazzle of Hollywood life. They were quite the couple about town. Dad was getting quite few acting parts and things were looking very good, indeed. After a few years of play, Mom gave birth to my sister Geraldine Naning, in February of 1944. My parent’s high times, however, came to a screeching halt when Uncle Sam pointed his crooked finger to my father and said, "We Want You!" Dad, an extreme pacifist, felt shaken to his core by the mere thought of entering the army. Having no recourse, he came to terms with the situation. He said that, "If I must kill the "Japs" for our country, then I surely will." In 1945 he entered the army and became a sergeant.
However, simultaneously, there was a monster loose in his beloved country of Germany, by the name of Adolf Hitler. Surely, they would not station him there! Fighting against his fellow men was unthinkable to him. My father's family stood firmly behind Hitler politically, in that they felt Hitler was a brilliant man, who was only building a stronger Germany, by restructuring the economy and expanding the territory. Like most every other German American, they were in denial of the atrocities that underlined the "Reich's" evil and maligning movement.
Though my father never went over seas, the effects of the war left him a despondent man.His spirit sunk even further when he returned home. He found that his movie career was shot. Fickle, Hollywood had passed him by. Now what was he going to do? Feeling deceived and downtrodden, he started drinking heavily and subsequently, wouldn’t or couldn't keep a job for very long. Being of an artistic and sensitive nature, he wasn't adept at bringing home a weekly paycheck from a boring job. He felt it was beneath him.
Thanx for serving to remind me about a day which I shall never forget, it seems--I sat at Schwabs counter in Summer of '67 one day when I was a little a run, run, run runaway from home, teenage runaway. I'm glad I did, it was surreal. The energy there was strong. Although, everywhere else in Hollywood in the mid-60's was shakin' and a quakin' everyday too, especially that Summer, that spot had to be at least a 7-pointer on the Richter. One had a sense of it there. As I recall, I was having a conversation with a customer about who I actually looked like the most. He said, I did not look as much like the "Shrimp", with reference to a magazine rack next to the counter/soda fountain, bearing a print of Jean Shrimpton on one of the magazine covers, that must have started it off, but rather more like Marianne, (the waif look). I didn't remember that Laurel Canyon intersects Sunset right there!/huh...interesting 2 no. (b sure and fix yer "oops" in the 3rd paragraph!) ha!(sorry).
You are right there. I always called upper Crescent Heights, Laurel. When in fact, it wasn't as for the "OOPS". . . that is how my father and others talked back then.
EASY TO BE HARD
Often, there was the question of how, when or where. What matters most is why...
They say there is but five degrees of separation between all of us.
This is my story and observations about growing up under the infamous Hollywood Sign, in the 50's 60' and 70's. This is also a story of my entering the fast lane, and finding that if I wanted to survive, I had to get off it, but... it wasn't that easy.
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