Published Manuscript
We are entertaining the idea of publishing a first edition of Ralph's manuscript
in book form. This would be a hard bound limited print first edition with the complete manuscript
(around 100 pages) and pictures. At this time we are trying to gauge
interest. If you think you would be interested in a copy of this book, should we
publish it,
Draft pages will be posted here so
you can get an idea of what it contains. Page 1 Page 2
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26 Posted - July 05, 2005 Somehow or other, the moment came, and we all got to the airport.
On the plane, Marilyn and Paula sat together, May and I sat behind
them. I saw Monty slip on the plane, hiding his face, and talking to
the pilot. I then saw him slip on an attendant’s jacket and cap.
He caught my eyes, winked and made a gesture of taking tickets. And
sure enough he started down the aisle, taking tickets, and when he
got to Marilyn and Paula, Marilyn looked at him, turned to May, who
had the tickets, did a double-take and screamed with laughter,
"MONTY!" He joined us and the trip started to the
accompaniment of much hilarity, conversation, and excitement. The
memory that came to my mind, as being most like the undercurrent
among that group of people, was the flight I took from Bhamo, Burma,
when the Combat Command was dissolved at the end of the War, and a
group of us, who had been through two years of the jungle together,
were suddenly on our way to Shangri la. We were all together,
leaving the scene of battle, en route to what we hoped would be
"home." An exaggerated comparison. Reno was no
battleground, it was not World War 2, but anyone who was ever gone
through a group effort- making a movie on location, or even going
through a boarding school, has that same sense of highness. This
sense of highness is what I remember about the next two days and
nights. The notes I scribbled in my appointment book have that same
feeling of never-never land, and, as the events are remembered by
me, are jumbled together, one on top of the other to reach the final
climax when we took the plane back to Reno. Settling in the Huntington, ordering Champagne, and Paula, trust
her, had brought her usual Care Package of goodies and in no time at
all had fixed a spread of hors d’oeuvres. I don’t like
champagne, but I hardly ever make a move without having a bottle of
vodka, so we toasted each other, made plans to meet each other
later, and went to our separate rooms. Marilyn wanted a massage, and
asked Pearl if she could do her hair in forty minutes. Agnes and her
husband wanted to treat the whole gang to dinner at a restaurant
they knew - the time was set. Monty wanted to take everyone to hear
Ella Fitzgerald who was performing at the Fairmont. The only thing I
remember about the dinner is that a photographer took a picture of
Marilyn and Monty, which was published in the papers later, and
started off a whole raft of rumors about the two. The Ella show was
marvelous, and when Marilyn asked if I liked Ella, facietiously I
replied, "yes, she’s no Janice Mars, she’s neither a
Gertrude Niesen." For the next two years that became something
of a comparison reference. On the scale of one to Janice Mars or
Gertrude Niesen, how does something rate. After the concert, Marilyn and Monty went up to Ella’s suite
for about half-hour. Agnes and her husband went out on the town.
May, Paula and I wandered around the lobby, waiting for Marilyn.
Paula became restless and, or, tired and left for the Huntington.
Marilyn came down and the three of us started walking to the hotel,
which was only across the square, when Marilyn said she wold love to
take a walk. This suited both of us fine and we turned towards down
town. We came to the start of the cable car, and May exclaimed,
"Oh, can’t we take it?" Marilyn said she’d never been
on it, during the whole time in SF. Needless to say, we hopped on
and went on a trip that was unlike any other I’ve ever taken. It
was a mixture, to me, of (the Laurette Taylor play) and of the
panorama of SF, the lights and darkness and of being absolutely
alone, surrounded by the panorama. None of us talked, the Cable Car
was pratically empty, and nobody recognized Marilyn. When we got to
the bottom of the ride, we helped turn the car around, the
restaurant there was letting out and more people got on, and we rode
back, again lost in our own thoughts. Marilyn later said she
completely understood for the first time STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, and
it gave her an insight into Blanche Dubois, and she couldn’t wait
to talk to Lee Strasberg about the scene she had done with John
Strasberg, and how differently she would have played it. Manuscript property of the estate of Ralph L. Roberts. Do not
copy without permission.