Ralph L Roberts.com

The next morning started with Marilyn having a massage (in those days along with the bottle of vodka, I never made a move without the portable massage table---- you never know). Then we all met in her suite for coffee, and she made the suggestion that we all spend the day doing our own thing, to meet in late afternoon to compare notes as to how we spent the day.

That afternoon we met. I had spent the day at the old silent movie store, then lunch, back to the hotel where I called a licensed masseur listed in the yellow pages, and had a massage for a change. Marilyn said she had walked down to the wharf, gone to the DiMaggio restaurant, had a wonderful talk with Joe’s brother and sister. Joe was, I think, in New York. She then walked to Lefty O’Doul’s restaurant. Lefty had been best man at their wedding. After blocks from the restaurant, she became aware that a young sailor was following her, and obviously was trying to get up enough nerve to talk to her. She also knew that he had not recognized her, and she was flattered that in spite of the kerchief over her hair, the dark glasses, the loose blouse and pants, the sailor, young enough to be her son, found her attractive. He followed her into the restaurant, but quickly ducked out when Lefty let out a scream of welcome to her. She said she had a wonderful talk with Lefty, who kept saying to her, "you’ve got to come home again."

Marilyn, May, Paula, Agnes, and her husband, and I went to the Blue Fox for dinner. The hostess threw her arms around Marilyn, practically crying with joy. She was a sister or cousin of Joe’s and she and Marilyn had been very close during the time there. It was very pleasant evening and then Monty came, we’d left word where we were going, and said that he’d made reservations in my name at Finochio’s. We got there, everyone wearing dark glasses, and with the agreement that if either Marilyn or Monty was recognized, we’d all rush out, leaving Frank to pay the tab, and meet us later. We were seated at a big table in the second row and amid much giggling and anticipatory enjoyment, ordered drinks. Finochio’s is a famous nightclub featuring female impersonators, many impersonating famous females. One of the first performers was dressed and made up like the movie Marilyn, and had captured the mannerisms, voice, and movements to an incredible degree. We were mesmerized, and she seemed at first to direct her [ ] to our table but then moved around the thrust-stage. Marilyn whispered that it was almost like looking at herself in one of her movies. The performance continued, and we found it quite enjoyable and the tension of possibly being recognized eased. At the curtain call, after the individual calls, the impersonators all lined up for a company call and the man who imitated Marilyn happened to be really looking at our table, for some reason, and I’ll never forget the electric shock that came into her eyes when she really saw and recognized Marilyn. We saw her whisper to the one next to her and the word spread like wild fire. Luckily, we were all ready for departure, Marilyn threw her a kiss, and we were out of the place before the blaze reached us.

We walked around for a while, and then made plans for the trip back to Reno.

All I remember about the trip back was that we were in something like a lounge on the plane. We had had a wonderful trip, but there was a feeling of lassitude, almost a reluctance to return to the final few days of shooting there. Marilyn put her feet up on my knees and I massaged them for most of the trip, none of us talking.