Ralph L Roberts.com

Rudy told me on the set that he nearly had a heart attack on the trip to the studio. Everything was peaceful. Marilyn and Paula were each sitting in silence, when all of a sudden Marilyn let out a scream that he almost drove off the street. Hid did stop, and turned around. Marilyn was clutching the new pages of the script, and screaming incoherently, tears rolling down her face. Paula trying to comfort her. "I know, my dear, I know, but it’ll work out all right." "How? I have no protection. Another page of the diary."

Fortunately Marilyn had practically nothing to do this morning. I think a scream from offstage. There was a lot of coming and going in her trailer, with a lot of wondering going on as to what had happened. It was a morning for screams. I was standing outside Gable’s trailer, talking with Frank Prehoda, when we jumped at the sound from inside. A loud "Damn, damn, damn." Then the telephone "George? Look I want a screening get up for nine in the morning of everything we have. I just read some new rewrites and they’re trying to mess up a good picture, and I’m not going to allow it."

He then went to Marilyn and when he looked at her, I know how you feel, kid. Everything will be all right. I’m telling them that this is my last day of shooting. You see, I have it in my contract that I don’t have to say any word I don’t want to. It’s something I always have, to prevent any unnecessary obscenity. But, it covers me here – I don’t want to say another word." "Oh Clark, please don’t let them change your mind. I can’t do anything. I don’t have any like that in my contract." He then told Huston and Arthur that this was his last day. Arthur, "But, Clark, didn’t you see the new rewrites? I think they improve the picture vastly." "I did, and disagree with you. I think you have a great picture as is. And I’m very proud and happy to have been part of it. But this is it." Marilyn asked me to move around the set, and try to find out anything going on, and the lay of the land. "Oh, please God, make Clark stick to his decision."

All Marilyn’s ‘group’ had been alerted to keep eyes and ears open for any hint of movements or tactics or even rumours. I saw Eli come sauntering in, being greeted by Arthur, and they went into Arthur’s ‘office,’ shutting the door. I slipped around to the back of it, and could hear Arthur telling Eli that Gable wasn’t buying the rewrites, and was adamant about he was finished shooting on the picture. I reported this to Marilyn, Whitey, Agnes, and Evelyn all came in with the news that word was spreading that we’d all be through within the next few days.

Finally Gable stopped by to say goodbye to her, with "take care of yourself, girl," went to his dressing room for some papers, said goodbye to Frank and me (we were standing outside is trailer talking), and was leaving, when he turned and said to me, "Oh, that picture for Maureen, I almost forgot." I replied, "You’re on your way, maybe another time." "No, it’s an honor." He went inside, inscribed one of his favorite pictures to "Maureen with love, Clark Gable." I told him she’d be thrilled beyond belief. The next few days a flurry of activity, getting final shots, packing. I packed the station wagon with my things, including the tape recorder, several bags Paula wanted me to take with me, four small Indian rugs Marilyn had bought in Reno, and went by Sunset Towers West to pick up a bag and typewriter that Arthur had asked me to take to NY. Arthur shook my hand said "Thanks, Ralph, and thanks for everything. Without you, the picture could never have been finished." I left from the studio later that afternoon after saying goodbye (and I’m notorious about never saying goodbye) to the ‘group.’ Marilyn said to please drive carefully, and asked did I need any money for the trip. Two days later, in the middle of the night, driving through Texas, I heard the broadcast that Gable had been admitted to the hospital for a heart attack. I pulled over to the side of the road and sobbed and prayed. When I finally started driving again, all of the millions of stars in the Texas sky seemed to be saying over and over what was emblazoned in my mind about the essence of the speech he’d had in the picture of ‘heading for the big star.’

I drove practically straight through, ears glued to the radio for news. One afternoon, when I stopped for a meal, I called Marilyn. She started crying, "I’m praying, I’m praying." I called Paula, who said that Marilyn was in constant touch with LA about Clark, and could think of nothing else. I’ve made the trip from LA to NY more times than I can remember, this one was the fastest. I saw her when I arrived, and the night he died, she called me, hysterical.