Nobodies Lambchop 1937
“I'm a woman of strong convictions.”
Jack Says
1937 came screaming into New York with New Year's parties and the exuberant joy in Times Square. This year would bring changes that would rock my world. My career was on fire, but my marriage wasn’t. On January 10th, a small article appeared in the newspapers. It’s an odd little thing, but it says a lot in just a few sentences. It says that my New Year’s resolution was not to wear green anymore because my husband doesn’t like it. If nothing else, it gave Jack the illusion of control of his home.
I had to be bent to the will of a has-been that never was and let it be published in a newspaper. I am considered feisty. I was an absolute scrapper when it came to my career but a pushover when it came to my marriage. I hated the inference, but I managed to endure it. Jack had been drinking since 1933. But the year is now 1937, and Jack made a resolution on New Year's Eve: drink until you can’t see. He was exceptional at fulfilling his New Year's resolution. He drank, and then he drank some more. When he was good and drunk, he’d pick a fight with me, then pass out just to wake up and do it all over again. I do not know what kept me walking away from my marriage right then and there!
The Childlike Man
When you can look at and read what remains of the correspondence between Jack and Agnes, you’re struck by several things. The first notable thing is that Jack, while he claimed to have a college degree that I have yet to find, was a childlike communicator. What existed in the 1930s was a series of cards and one full-on letter. I call it the Skowhegan letter. He wrote it while doing summer theater in Skowhegan, Maine. I find the letter odd because its tone is like a child explaining to his mother why he’s not hanging around with the troublemaker just as she warned him not to, and it’s punctuated with downright possessive phrases. I’m paraphrasing here, but it boils down to you belonging to me, and you should be here with me. Why?
The series of Christmas and Birthday cards is equally odd. The envelope of one names her as his “Angel lovin' lamb chop.” The interior of the same card is a wee bit racier: “Spanky Angel.”
Are you kidding me? “Spanky Angel!” Pet names are acceptable, but that particular one left me stunned. Far be it from me to be judgy about the sex lives of married couples, but in my experience, nicknames like that just do not belong on Christmas cards. They’re too personal. Then you have to stop and think that she saved it, not him, so again, why?
In the meantime, my career was going into overdrive. I started the year with a new show in which I was the lead. It was called “Joyce Jordan Girl Intern.” It is about a young woman who has chosen to become a doctor. In 1937, this was radical thinking. Sure, female doctors existed in 1937, but they were few and far between. Here was a show telling women they could be whatever they wanted. Don’t fear your future; embrace it and make it yours. I was hammering at the glass ceiling that held women back and putting cracks in it that, in the future, would become shards of the ceiling shattered by women.
Breaking Molds With Orson
Along with “Joyce Jordan,” I was also in Terry and the Pirates and another serial with a relatively new face to radio named Orson Welles. Then I landed the role of Margot Lane in The Shadow." I stepped up to the microphone beside Orson. We had an uncanny ability to play off each other. Our on-air chemistry was undeniable and palpable. As we boarded the ship of radio history, neither knew how much this partnership would elevate us both. I enjoyed working with Orson. I had a tiny crush on him, and he knew it. He used it to reveal Margot Lane’s soft, sensual side. This was Orson directing me without me even realizing he was doing it. He had an uncanny ability to bring out the best acting qualities in me. He understood me in a way that she didn’t even understand. This began a long association that would change my life forever.
Jack, Skowhegan, and the letter
Jack finally returned on the stage in 1937 at Skowhegan in a series of Summer Theater productions. Despite his difficulties with everything he tried, Jack finally found his footing in 1937, too, or so it seemed. Jack went to Skowhegan, Maine, to do summer theater in July. He worked in a show called “Boy Meets Girl,” and his reviews were decent; however, the role was described like this, “ Jack Lee, another new member of the Lakewood Players, will play the dumb cowboy “Larry Toms.” So great review, crappy part or maybe a wee bit of typecasting. Jack it seems he was “specially engaged” to play the dumb cowboy. He found his footing by playing dumb and appeared exceptionally good at it. Unfortunately, Jack ends up with the short end of the stick regarding his career. It did him some good, though, because, in November of 1937, he garnered a part in “Too Many Heroes” at the Hudson Theatre.
Nevertheless, Skowhegan made it to the scrapbook. I was very happy for him and scared to death at the same time. He was likely to come home, be extraordinarily happy for twenty-four hours, then open the liquor cabinet and drink. When I came home, I was just as likely to get punched as I was to get a hello.
This is what the review I clipped says about Jack:
“Jack Lee, a newcomer to Lakewood, quickly won the audience's hearts with his work in the part that had been assigned to him. As a somewhat temperamental star who was forced to do just about what his agent told him, he produced some of the best laughs of the evening. He hopes to be with the company for future productions.” July 22nd, 1937, in the Morning Sentinel in Waterville, Maine.
Meanwhile, Jack's father Marsh was in the newspapers further south in Manteo, North Carolina. He played the historian in the production of the Lost Colony. I clipped the article that goes on to talk about Marsh’s career. It covers where he has been, including Europe, and details his life in the entertainment industry as well as his family members who participate in the same sector:
“Mr. Lee is not the only talented actor in the family. His daughter-in-law Agnes Moorehead is a very talented actress ... .Jack G. Lee, another relation, plays a leading part in Warden Lawe’s program on the air.”
I don't have to talk about the slap in the face this was to Jack, but I didn't count on that it would also be a slap in the face to me. Jack began drinking heavily; I can forgive him for it this time. Who puts their daughter-in-law in a position of more importance than their flesh and blood? I’ll tell you who: somebody who has no apparent interest in his son, that’s who. Jack was crushed, wouldn’t you be? It was as if Marsh was mocking Jack by mentioning me before him. I would be paying the price for it, not Marsh. I had to live with the man. Marsh Lee could go merrily on his way without listening to the grumbling.
Unfortunately, Jack ended up with the short end of the stick regarding his career. It did him some good, though, because, in November of 1937, he garnered a part in “Too Many Heroes” at the Hudson Theatre, which was exposure and a paycheck as Agnes told him. He was not amused. By the way, he never played football he just thought it made him sound, well, butch! Life was becoming a ballet of chaos at our place. I have danced ballet, but this was something new.
The New York American
April 14, 1937
Dinty Doyle
Few know that John ( Jack ) Lee, the competent actor, was an All-American Halfback who never got the rating because he was at the University of California in the heyday of Andy Smith’s Wonderteam.
Marrying, Burying, and Music.
The year proceeded in Columbus almost precisely as Mother and Father intended. Mother went to Reedsburg to visit with Grace for a while. Papa stayed in Columbus, insisting his flock desperately needed him. Mother was a creature of habit and would have none of canceling any trips to Reedsburg or anywhere else. Father did wedding after wedding, followed by funeral after funeral, and brought up the rear with many babies who needed baptizing. In other words, both my parents were more than satisfied with how they lived. This is the year I threw in the towel, deciding my parent were adults and would be happy if I butted out of their business and let them exist the way they wanted to.
In a turn of events I did not see coming, her Aunt Cam stepped into the spotlight. She had agreed to play the piano at a ministerial meeting in New Concord, and the next thing you knew, she had signed up to accompany the “New Concord Quartet” on KDKA in the metropolis of Pittsburg. I was beside myself with joy. Aunt Cam played beautifully, and hearing her on the radio gave me a sense of massive pride.
Let Go And Forgive 1938
“Ohio pastor dies as choir sings Safe In The Arms of Jesus.”
Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph
May 23, 1938
Safe In The Arms Of Jesus
Just as 1927 and 1929 were filled with grief and loss, 1938-1939 would be the same. My father loved his many churches so much. He dedicated his life to being the shepherd of many different flocks. He preached the word of God with a fervor driven by complete compassion for every living thing, and he believed with his whole heart that he would meet his maker with pride when his time came. That time arrived on May 22nd, 1938. mother and the choir sang “Safe In The Arms Of Jesus.” The church members sang along. Papa was sitting in his chair next to his pulpit. When Mama looked down at him, she saw his color wasn’t right, and no sooner had she thought it than Papa closed his eyes and grabbed his chest, falling forward out of the chair. He died in front of his entire congregation. Mother was the first one to his side, second only to the doctor seated in the congregation. The doctor indicated to Mother that Papa was dead, and she, in her somewhat stoic fashion, said she was happy that he had gone home to be with Jesus. As Agnes wept for her father, she reassured herself that he had died in the place he felt most at home in the world, the House of God. The time of his passing was 11:00 a.m.
From New York without Jack.
I made my way to Columbus without Jack. His drinking had become such that I feared having him anywhere near Mother. He would surely open his mouth, and Mother would verbally tear him apart. My mother didn’t need that to deal with this on top of everything else.
In my eyes, Papa had been reunited with her sister Pegg less than nine years after her death. Less than a year later, Aunt Cam died of the very same thing—another unexpected phone call or telegram and another unscheduled trip to bury a beloved family member. I lost every member of her immediate family except for my mother, Grandma McCauley, my Aunt Agnes, and my Uncles Mark and Alfred. They and I were the last of the family now. You don’t realize how much you miss them all until they’ve left to go home to God.
Orson and Dracula
Despite the losses I experienced in 1938, my career was still burning up the airwaves.
I had great success on her hands with “The Shadow.” I also landed a twenty-six-week series with Lou Holtz. I narrated Beauty and the Beast. I was privileged to join “Cavalcade of America,” a highly respected show that was broadcast all across the country. I was heard in the serial “Grand Central Station.” This year, I joined the Mercury Theatre On The Air at the behest of Orson. I also became a regular on The Campbell Playhouse.” Job after job only added to my popularity. I was finally a recognized radio star. People around the country sent questions to the papers about who I was and what I looked like. I performed with the Mercury group in Orson’s adaptation of “Dracula.” Again, Orson coaxed a fantastic performance out of me in her role as Mina Harker. Orson announced I was on fire and burning up the airwaves. Oh my lord, I was so embarrassed, and I knew when Mother heard Dracula, I would be in for a lecture because of my sultry sighing.
Author's Observations: Lion or Cougar
Tommie and Howie
On February 9, 1938, an article in the Chicago newspapers indicated that Tommy Hutchinson and Howie Page were feuding over Agnes. Tommy Hutchinson was a professional boxer. This article is ground zero for her deteriorating marriage with Jack. It’s the first time in any newspaper that she is mentioned as a love object for not one but two prominent men. This would not happen again for eleven years when she split from Jack and had her little tete-a-tete with Robert Gist. The men are never mentioned together with Agnes’ name again. She was controlling the romantic narrative of my life. She didn’t have a word to say about Tommy and Howie. Agnes was no tattletale!
Jack’s father dies
Jack had a horrendous year in 1938 as well. Like I did, he lost a parent. His father died in Long Island on March 27, 1938, in the Nassau Hospital of pneumonia. His obituary in Brooklyn Eagle is touching, naming Jack as his son and Susan as his widow. Marsh and Susan hadn’t lived together since the mid-1910s. The lack of bliss in his parents' marriage contributed to Jack’s unstable relationship with me. On the bright side, if there is one, Jack and I finally squeezed in a honeymoon. Frankly, it was just more of the same, except in Bermuda. Jack drank. I swam, read, and slept. We had been married for eight long, arduous years and just got around to it. Neither of us was desperate enough when we married to go on a honeymoon because we both chose work over romance. I suppose I should have known better. My work was always everything to me, and this pretend "Honeymoon" did not help things one bit. If anything, it made it worse.
Molly unleashed
Mother's last trip to Reedsburg was just three months before Papa died. The next time Mother returned to Reedsburg, she did so as a widow. She went to Reedsburg in November with Grandma McCauley. For obvious reasons, Grandma McCauley never spent much time at our home when Papa was alive. It began with Mother, and then he primary fracture occurred in 1930 when Grandma overstayed her welcome after Pegg’s death. But no,w Mother was free to take her mother anywhere she wanted. Since Mother was the beneficiary of Papa’s will, she was well looked after. Immediately after Papa’s passing, Mother spent several months in a lovely hotel in Columbus. I paid for it as my mother transitioned from a minister's wife to an average widow. She was still in a state of shock.
The best and the worst happened in 1938. I pushed through it and came out the other side in 1939. I didn’t know then that 1939 had some serious surprises for me. Some were tremendous, and one was incredibly bad!
Now I'm really curious about Jack's letter, could you please post it? (I apologize if you've already posted it somewhere on the blog, but I can't seem to find it.)
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