Wednesday, April 30, 2025

James Burton Lenhart AKA Paul Gregory.

 James Burton Lenhart, Who Are You?

Recently, I came across a website discussing how Paul Gregory met Charles Laughton. It said, “Paul Gregory's life could have made an excellent movie, like the one by Frank Capra. A poor boy from Iowa, he became a successful Broadway and Hollywood producer through hard work and a little old-fashioned luck.”   It sounds like a description of a Rockwell painting, unfortunately. It was not painted by Norman; it was painted by Benny, who is a complete figment of my imagination.

Like every Hollywood dream story, there’s glamor, and then there’s reality. Take these missives for example: “Born in 1920, he was the son of a part-Cherokee mother and a father who was often unreliable. Gregory's father "disappeared after he had spent my mother's Indian money," Gregory recently recalled, and then "showed up along the Mississippi towns as a roving preacher," going from one small Lutheran colony to another.” Sounds tragic, doesn’t it? But guess what? That's not true, except for the 'born in 1920 part. Paul Gregory isn’t even really Paul Gregory. His real name was James Burton Lenhart, and he was born on August 27, 1920. His unreliable father was James Clifford Lenhart, and his poor mother was Esther May Taylor. The truth in this is only his parent's names. His “unreliable” father saved Paul, his mother, and his siblings from a gas leak in their home in 1924. Paul’s father went in so many times carrying them out he was overcome with gas as well but recovered. Paul’s part-Cherokee mother isn’t part-Cherokee either. 

The following section, as far as I can tell, is epic tomfoolery! I do not doubt that “Iowa was a tough place during the Depression.” It goes on to say, “It was tough, and with five children, Gregory's mother sent him to England to live with relatives. His uncle was a London solicitor, and the youth attended a school with embassy children.” If Iowa was so tough, where did the money to send Paul to England from Iowa? There is no record of Paul Gregory's passage under his birth name, and I can find no “uncle” who was a barrister in London—pure imaginative storytelling.

Furthermore, there were four children, and the unreliable father managed a Grocery business still in 1930 and owned their home. “Did I mention Paul? In true Hollywood fashion, Gregory underwent a sudden reversal of fortune. There were concerts, matinees, the ballet-- all the cultural riches London had to offer.” Also, a hard no. Paul studied dance in Des Moines, Iowa, and participated in at least two recitals. The first was in 1936, when he was 16, and the second was in 1941 when he was 20. 

 Then we get this: “Gregory returned home to finish high school.  He picked up a newspaper route and came to the attention of the boss, Mike Cowles, who hired him to read the Sunday funnies on the family's radio station. Mike was impressed with the youngster's polished accent. After graduation, Gregory headed west to seek his fortune.” Paul never left home at all. I can find no record of radio work. Paul didn’t “head west” until 1942. Between graduation and going to California in 1942. In Los Angeles he found work as a “soda jerk” while he pursued acting.

The fantasy in this story is worthy of Disney. “As a boy, Gregory's Cherokee aunt told him, "Always put away half of what you make." Back at the soda fountain, he took her advice. It was not long before the money proved handy. One day, a dancer, Ruth St. Denis, whom he had seen perform in London, wandered into the drugstore with her manager. Miss St. Denis was one of the pioneers of modern dance but was then out of the limelight. One thing led to another, and Gregory and the manager split the cost, renting a Wilshire theater to put on a local performance. The two-day show sold out, and the young impresario had found his calling.” Paul Gregory NEVER saw Ruth St. Denis perform in London, but he read voraciously. He knew who she was, and he used his looks to get her attention. As for a two-day sold-out show, there’s no record of it. 

 If the story is to be believed, which I seriously doubt,” A customer to whom he showed the Denis program turned out to be the director of the Hollywood Choir. Gregory was soon booking the group, which featured MGM actor Dennis Morgan. Gregory's activities came to the attention of Lew Wasserman, the mighty head of MCA. "Who's this guy handling our clients?" the chairman asked a deputy. "Get a hold of him." The emissary located Gregory at the drugstore. Instead of taking legal action, the company hired Gregory and placed him in its New York office.” The rise of Paul Gregory began someplace in this pile of half-truths and untruths.

The story goes like this: “One snowy night, as Gregory was about to leave a Third Avenue restaurant, “a big fat man came on the Ed Sullivan show and began reading from the fiery Book of Daniel. It was Charles Laughton, the famous British-born actor who had been in The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Mutiniy On The Bounty. Gregory was mesmerized by the performance. “Oh, my god,” he remembers thinking. “I can sell this all over the country.” The young agent “dashed over to the Mansfield Theatre” and arrived as Laughton was leaving with a female companion.

"I would like to speak to you," Gregory told the distinguished actor.

  "What about, old boy?" Laughton replied.

  I'd like to speak with you about booking you.

  "Speak to my agent," the actor responded, nodding to his companion.

  "I said I want to speak to you, sir," Gregory persisted.

 Laughton appeared uninterested, but the young agent was undeterred. "I knew this was my crown," Gregory notes, "and I was going to put stars in it."

  He told Laughton, "You're throwing away a million dollars."

The rest, as they say, is history or at least somebody's version of history. Gregory would go on to work with Laughton, and the resulting shows, including “Don Juan In Hell,” changed the history of theatre. For that, Gregory deserves to be lauded; however, you’re only as good as your cast, and his cast for Don Juan was beyond dynamite. He and Laughton assembled a cast that is arguably the best cast ever to grace multiple stages, and they created a world so vivid with their words that every person who saw it was watching something that allowed their imagination to take flight. Nothing like it had been done before, right? Except it had. By Gregory and Laughton in April, May, June, July, August, and September 1950. April and May were solo Laughton performances. June was Laughton and Boyer doing a reading together. July was Laughton, and August was the preview of “Don Juan In Hell” with Agnes. Hume Cronyn even got in on the act. So, as much as we’d like to believe Don Juan was the start of readers' theatre, it wasn’t. The fact is that the work done by Laughton, first on his own and then with Gregory, carved a path that allowed “Don Juan In Hell” to become the huge hit it was.

Paul continued producing after Don Juan. He was a creative man and had an eye for what would fly and what wouldn’t. He went on to steer Robert Gist away from Agnes by casting him in “The Caine Mutiny.” That went well, not. It seems Paul steered Agnes away from the disaster that was quickly becoming her marriage to Robert Gist. He was possessive of her. I’ve held in my own hands a note from Paul to Agnes that arrived with flowers that said “I love you. Paul” Was he interested? You can interpret his communication with her in several ways, and yes, love is one reason for looking at them, but Paul was a confirmed bachelor. Code for maybe gay or maybe bi, who knows! Long story short, Paul was incredibly protective of Agnes, and at the same time, he was able to tell her precisely what he thought, whether she asked for it or not. The incredible thing is he got away with it and lived to tell the tale.

The Confidential Trial and All The Lawyers

While Paul was riding high on all of his productions, a few little things happened.

In June of 1954, Gregory was sued by Dick Powell for the outrageous, cough,  act of removing Powell’s name as director for “The Caine Mutiny. Powell rejected an out-of-court settlement. The trial was scheduled for August. After that had come and gone, Gregory found himself at the center of another lawsuit, this time along with Charles Laughton, for breach of contract by a publicist named Russell Birdwell. Birdwell wanted $400,000 because Gregory and Laughton had failed to live up to the contracts they signed in 1952 for “The Caine Mutiny.” As if that wasn’t enough, Herman Wouck’s wife jumped into the suit demanding $75,000 in damages and 5 percent of the gross. Laughton’s portion was a mere $35,000. Everybody had their hands out. 1956 wasn’t one bit better, either.

Another suit was filed in April 1956 for $50,000, which Paul settled with Hal Gerard, and I’m sure he hoped he had put the whole sordid mess behind him. Life had other ideas, and it came in the form of a lawsuit, which was like a giant circus involving what seemed like most of Hollywood. It had to do with a magazine called “The Confidential” and oh my god, was it salacious! I’m not going to deliver every single detail because you can find it anywhere if you look, but what it did do was catch Paul Gregory in the wheels of justice, and so were Charles Laughton and Elsa Lanchester.

The magazine “The Confidential” routinely printed stories with zero grounding in reality when they couldn’t blackmail the subject of the said article into paying them to keep it out of the news. The problem was the victims began to fight back, and Gregory was one of them. Paul alleged that Mrs. Meaded told him it would cost $800 to $ 1,000 to keep a story out of the magazine that dealt with Paul’s client and friend, Charles Laughton, as well as Elsa Lanchester. Paul threw down the gauntly and joined with other performers to take “The Confidential” on in court. When Paul told the court that Meade had attempted to blackmail him, the defense brought up a judgment made against Paul by an unnamed widow for his having defrauded her after making love to her. I have searched through every single paper I could find using both Paul Gregory and his birth name, James Burton Lenhart; there is no judgment published anywhere, nor is there a record of any trial of any kind. Considering the source of this statement was Mrs. Meade and that many stars were successfully suing the magazine, I’m reasonably sure it never happened. The Confidential got slapped down and went under. Paul continued with his life, and then, in 1964, he made heads spin once again.

In 1964, Paul Gregory married Janet Gaynor in Las Vegas. It’s been called a lavender marriage, but in all honesty, I wasn’t there, so I cannot say that for sure. What I can say is that before marrying Gregory, Gaynor had been married to costume designer Adrian. The fact is that Adrian was openly gay. Hollywood knew it. Gaynor knew it, and yet they cared very much for each other. They even had a son. Nonetheless, this lends itself to the interpretation that Janet Gaynor was bisexual. The problem is that only the people who know the truth are dead and would never have told it publicly, even if they weren’t.

It’s worth noting that the only person Agnes saw before she boarded the train for what would be her final journey was Paul Gregory. She was honest with him and told him she would never see him again. Paul was deeply complex, but so was Agnes, and she trusted him with her career, her life, and her death. It says a lot about the man to me.




 




Monday, April 28, 2025

Jack The Little Man Who Wasn't There

 


Who Was Jack Lee?


I have read everything I can about Jack G. Lee and still haven’t figured him out. His parents' relationship was unusually peculiar, as his mother and father didn’t live together after the 1906 earthquake. Jack had no real role model to teach him how to be a man. He spent time with his father’s family, but mostly, it seemed like he was existing on the edge of his own life until he died six months after Agnes. Jack is a tough nut to crack, so I’m going to need a bigger nutcracker.  There are no archives left dealing with Lee, except for the small bit of information that still exists in Aggie’s voluminous archive. I find it odd that those exist at all because her divorce from Lee was so contentious. It's also peculiar that she kept the letters and cards given to her by Jack in her scrapbooks. He was a violent drunk who beat her regularly and, in 1939, hospitalized her. It doesn’t sound like anything I’d look back on fondly. Whatever the reason, Agnes kept cards and letters from Jack that offered a peek inside his personality. His bland, vanilla, forgettable personality. Fun reading.


John Griffith Lee, aka Jack, was born on June 5th, 1902, in San Francisco, California. His father, Marshall Robert Lee, also known as Jack, was a jack-of-all-trades, and his mother, Susan Ping, was a homemaker. Marsh Lee was a peculiar man. At heart, an actor, he supported his family initially by being a decorator. That career came to a screeching halt when San Francisco was struck by a massive earthquake in 1906. Marsh struggled to support his family after that until he took his god-given talent for ventriloquism and hit the vaudeville Orpheum circuit just a couple of years after the earthquake. Susan remained at home, returning to San Francisco, where, without her husband's physical presence, she was thrust into the role of a single mother. For the majority of his young life, Jack was a mama’s boy. Women surrounded him; his mother took the lead, and his father’s sisters brought up the rear. Jack was never “taught” how to be a man and struggled with a feeling of inadequacy in that portion of his life until he died.

Jack was corseted to his mother with her apron strings. 


Considering his father's actions, it's not surprising that Jack had some unresolved issues. It's not easy for anyone to have their name taken by a parent going through a midlife crisis and adopting it as their stage name.


Jack's academic prowess was evident from an early age. He excelled in high school, laying the foundation for what should have been an excellent future. He was a good writer, winning at least one essay contest while in school at the High School of Commerce. The essay was about his hometown of San Francisco and was entitled “San Francisco: The Queen City of the West. ”  He participated in open-air theater and fledgling radio productions. He belonged to a club called “The Calpha Club,” whose dances made the San Francisco newspapers' society pages. Jack was regularly in the San Francisco newspapers, noting parties and dances he had attended. He was a member of what passed for high society in San Francisco. Jack was, believe it or not, a yell leader in high school. It meant he was a head cheerleader. Still, it was considered a position of prestige, and his regular appearances on the Society Pages contributed to his being well-known.  It seemed that Jack was on his way up in the world while his father was performing in vaudeville around the globe. Alas, it was not to be. Jack eventually went to New York, entering the American Academy of Dramatic Arts to study acting. From the time he graduated, his entire career was more akin to Atlas struggling to get to the top of the mountain only to fall and have to start all over again. Besides using his son's name as a stage name, Jack's father spent his later years running a skating rink in Mineola, New York.


Jack Lee’s acting career stalled and then restarted multiple times. His first choke was in 1923. He was nowhere to be seen in the Society Pages of the San Francisco newspapers. On the other hand, his father was performing in vaudeville shows, and the newspapers bear this out by listing “Jack Lee” in a vaudeville performance called “The Phony Recital.”  Jack’s father was very well known on the Vaudeville circuit as a ventriloquist.  


Jack began acting in earnest in 1925 when he performed in a series of plays as a member of “The Theatre Arts Club” that were presented at The Players Guild Theatre. The club gave the plays under the direction of Talma-Zetta Wilbur, and the company was described as progressive. This was a company of local renown who performed on both the stage and the radio. Jack Lee was heard playing the ukulele on the radio station KPO in July. He returned to the air on radio station KFRC in August in a series of radio plays produced by “The Theatre Arts Club” and broadcast for public consumption. Jack was in one called “The Trysting Place.” The particularly odd thing is that this play was written by Booth Tarkington, the same man who wrote the book “The Magnificent Ambersons.” As we all know, one of Agnes’ finest performances was in a movie based on that book.  Jack was there on the radio acting before Agnes ever sang on the air in St. Louis, so for the two of them, Jack’s link to broadcasting began long before the woman he would eventually marry. 


In 1926, Jack Griffith Lee, who added his middle name to differentiate himself from his father, still performed with “The Theatre Arts Club.” Again, the shows were a series of one-act plays performed at “The Players Guild Theatre.” But by 1927, there was no mention of him performing anywhere in San Francisco. I suspect this is when Jack decided to go east and enter the AADA, where he would meet Agnes Moorehead.


In 1927, a vaudeville performer named Jack Lee appeared in the New York newspapers. This man is Jack’s father. It seems that Jack followed his father or went with his father to New York. By September of 1929, Jack returned to acting with his first show in New York in the show “Subway Murder,” in which he played with great distinction a corpse. From this point forward, Jack’s acting career slowly slid toward nonexistence. His performances are spotty, few and far between. Jack was outshone his whole life except for his halcyon days in San Francisco, first by his father and then by his wife. Jack grew up in a privileged environment without instruction on stability in employment or relationships. His father and mother had not lived together for years, and his father would never return to his wife. Instead, he stayed in New York, first doing vaudeville and then running a skating rink in Mineola. Robert Marshall Lee died in a hospital in Nassau, New York, in March of 1938, and the obituary mentions that he retired from the stage in 1931. His son never made it as an actor and struggled with that for many years. Jack Griffith Lee could not outshine his father, nor could he outshine his wife. He was the little man who wasn’t there.


Jack Lee, whose claim to fame amounts to :

1. Being an outstanding corpse on stage.

2. Being an outstanding clerk in a candy store.

3. Being an abusive alcoholic smart enough to stay married for an extremely long time to Agnes Moorehead.


Hamilton Evening Journal

Hamilton Ohio

Friday May 23rd, 1930


Former Hamilton Girl to Wed In New York

Hamilton friends will learn with interest of the approaching marriage of Miss Agnes Robertson Moorehead, daughter of Reverend and Mrs. J.H. Moorehead of Dayton, to John G. Lee of New York, which will take place at the Little Church Around the Corner on June 5.

Miss Moorehead formerly resided in Hamilton with her parents, her father, Reverend John H. Moorehead, who held the pastorate of the United Presbyterian Church.

**Again, it is worth noting that Molly likely wrote this release and made an attempt to set aside the questions surrounding Margaret's death and to present a regular face of her family to the people of Hamilton, to whom she was very attached. ** **


She was on time, and he was late. This set a precedence for their entire relationship, placing him second to her in everything. During the years that followed, Agnes quickly became a staple in radio. She also became well known for her sense of comedic timing, contrary to her mother's earlier prediction.



Marshall, The Bad Dad

Jack's father decided to pursue a career in acting and went on to join the vaudeville Orpheum Circuit as a ventriloquist. His career eventually led him to become involved in decorating, retail, and even managing a roller skating rink in Mineola, New York. Interestingly, Jack's career path mirrored his father's in many ways; he also tried various professions, including acting, radio acting, and working as a salesman and clerk, before settling down to start a family.


Throughout his life, Jack was greatly influenced by the women around him, including his mother, aunts, and eventually his wife. Despite his talents and ambitions, Jack often found himself overshadowed by his father, who even adopted Jack's name as his stage name. This led to Jack being referred to as "Jack G. Lee" to avoid confusion.


Marshall Robert Lee had a colorful life as a stage actor.  In fact, on the 1930 census, Marshall lived in the same hotel as Jack in New York and was working somewhere on the stage.


Marshall Robert Lee acted all over the place.  He has traveled to England many times and is listed on several arrival lists in Southampton, England.  He traveled to Cherbourg, France.  He worked on the stage in Chicago and was performing there when he filled out his draft registration form for World War I.  1908, he sailed from Victoria, British Columbia, to San Francisco.  I'm sure I have only scratched the surface of his travels.  In the 1916 voter registration list for San Francisco, his occupation is listed as "designer," but every other piece of identification identifies him as an actor.


Susan, The Quiet Mommy


Susan Slater Ping was born on April 22, 1881, to William James Ping and Hester Powell In Colusa City, California. Of course, the 1900 census says she was born in October 1880, but those records are notoriously unreliable when it comes to dates. She was the third of four daughters in her family. Her father was a Constable when she was born, but by 1900, the family was living at The California Home For The Care and Training Of Feeble-Minded Children. Her parents ran the institution. I can’t imagine it being an easy place to live at all, and doubly so for children like Susan who were still at home. How Susan and Marsh met was undoubtedly in San Francisco. They married in 1901 and lived together for about five years. Marsh hit the road after the earthquake and never came back. Susan never bothered to divorce him, so it was clear that she did need the money. Marsh supported her and little Jack financially, but emotionally, Marsh was somewhere else. Susan ultimately ended up living with a man named Harry O’Neil, claiming to be his border; however, the moment Marsh died, Susan married her landlord. Honestly, her love life seems to be the only place she colored outside the lines, and the result is she doesn’t have one single damning article in any newspaper. Whatever works, I say.



The Actor Who Never Was


Jack, like his father Marshall, decided to take up acting. The most significant difference between Big Jack and Little Jack is that Big Jack, also known as Marsh, actually had a career and supported himself, as well as Jack and his mother. Little Jack, not so much. By 1938, whatever career Jack may have had was gone. His drinking has been an issue in more ways than one. I have no doubt it dimmed whatever talent he had, and when you start using your wife as a punching bag while you’re bleeding drunk, it gets around. Jack was an actor who never was, and his wife was an actress who lit up everything she did like a flare.


His longest stint appears to be eight months, from September 1929 to May 1930.  I have been told he did, but I haven't been able to find any newspaper backup to document that.  If he did radio, it may have been uncredited.  I have been told that he did touring shows, and again, I can’t back that up with newspaper documentation.  If reviews and advertisements are the stuff of a successful acting career, neither man can be called successful.  I can find no record of a Marshall Lee ever performing on Broadway.  I did find a Robert Lee who started around the same time, but I need help proving that Marshall used his middle name as a professional name.  To have traveled as much as Marsh must have, one has to assume that he could support himself. However, the only proof I can offer is the family address in 1916, when they lived at 1633 Webster in San Francisco, California.  However, that same document also lists Marshall, as I mentioned before, as a decorator.  The only thing I can say with certainty about Marshall is that he was a registered Democrat.



Stiff Job

Havre Daily News

Havre Montana

October 5th, 1929

About New York

By Richard Massack


The acting plums this season go to the assorted victims of numerous stage assassins.  The crime wave in theatre means shorter work hours for several players and, in one instance, applause for the corpse...Others get similar breaks in several current dramas.  However, the loud outburst of appreciation at the end of "Subway Express" is a phenomenon experienced by no other actor but Jack Lee.



It is seldom that the victim of theatrical villainy gets a hand after his demise. In "Subway Express," however, Jack Lee is electrocuted at the outset and then must stay in his seat through three acts of rigor mortis. When finally he is lifted out of his seat, the audience applauds, although the corpse can hardly be expected to bow.


As I pointed out earlier, his career has slid downhill into a series of inconsequential roles in various things after this.  When Agnes divorced Jack, she stated that Jack had been drinking heavily for at least 15 years.  If you do the math, he started drinking in about 1935.  If you do the research, you will see very quickly that by 1935, Agnes was a well-established name on the radio, while Jack was still an unknown.  I'm not saying he didn't work because he did, but he was reduced to performing at baseball games:


June 24th, 1935

The Helena Independent

Performing at the game tonight is Jack Lee, a well-known entertainer.


Another researcher had told me that Jack was "on tour" in 1935. It is possible that the performance mentioned above was one he booked outside his tour for a little extra pocket money, but it is likely only some of that.  Helena, Montana, was a small town in 1935, and it is unlikely that there was an itinerary on the books for any kind of roadshow, whether it was a live show or a radio show.  It has been said that Jack worked at a candy store in New York as a salesman.  I can only assume that's so true because I don't have any documents to prove it.  What is apparent is that the money in the household was earned by Jack's wife, Agnes Moorehead, and Jack was mainly what we would call a house husband.  For a man in the early half of the 20th century, this was the most emasculating fate that could have been met. He turned to alcohol to soothe his wounded ego.


That it was hard for Jack to live in the shadow of his wife goes without saying, especially given that his father could earn some sort of a living as an actor even if he weren't famous.  I found evidence that Jack himself performed publicly as early as 1920:


Jack was more of a vaudeville performer than a serious actor.  He did nickel and dime shows.   His only rave review was for playing a corpse that sat completely still for three acts.  His career was hardly the status dreams are made of.  He was doomed from the get-go because he was marrying a dynamic woman with limitless talent and a flawless work ethic.  She knew how to work a room and play an audience, whatever the situation.  Agnes was destined to be limited only because she could lie in many places at once.  Jack was destined to be limited by his limited ability.


In 1941, the good folks of Cambridge, Ohio, were witnesses to the only DUI I could find on Jack, so was he drinking? Yes, indeed, he was. By this point, Jack appears to be a full-blown Alcoholic, unable to cope with his wife’s fame. He was utterly lacking in self-confidence, and when looking for it in a bottle then, he kept right on swimming in bottles, trying to make up for his shortcomings with violence and foul language. He couldn’t even manage that. When Jack’s mother died in 1943, Jack was rudderless and drunk. Jack’s star never rose, and his career was flat as a cut tire. By


The gaps in Jack's employment are a testament to his difficulties.  In 1942, Jack took a year-long "leave of absence" to renovate the farm in Ohio:


February 6, 1942

The Times Recorder

Zanesville Ohio

See Muskingum Graduate on the Screen

Her radio actor and scriptwriter husband, Jack Lee, is taking a year's leave of absence from radio and is renovating the farm. 


I am still looking for an indication that Jack ever wrote a script.  No credit was given if he did, but he has done many things that went uncredited. Jack got used to not trying to accomplish anything and hated himself for it.  He chose to take it out on Agnes in drunken fits.  Agnes decided to seek affection and attention elsewhere.  Jack did the same publicly after their separation but could not shake Mr. Agnes Moorehead's moniker.







November 15, 1949

Walla Walla Bulletin

Walla Walla, Washington

Hollywood 

(NEA)

Jo Ann Robinson, a blond cutie, is helping Jack Lee forget Agnes Moorehead.  They were watching Arthur Blake's impersonation of Agnes at the Bar of Music.


He can't even go to a bar for a drink with a blond bombshell without being reminded that he needs to forget Agnes by watching a female impersonator impersonate his wife, Agnes.  For those who don't know Arthur Blake, let me introduce you.  Arthur Blake was a flamboyant actor specializing in female impersonations of famous women and male impersonations of famous men.  He was a ruthless satirist, and oddly enough, a good many of the women he impersonated were rumored to have been bisexual or lesbian.  


They were:

Barbara Stanwyck, Eleanor Roosevelt, Katherine Hepburn, Ethel Barrymore, Tallulah Bankhead, and Agnes Moorehead.

Blake also had issues with Orson Welles and relentlessly lampooned Welles when performing.  He also took on Noel Coward, among others.  I find it ironic because Blake himself was hopelessly effeminate and frequently poked fun of.  He was also known for his outrageous clothing.


But I digress.  Poor Jack disappeared from most records around 1957.  I know he remained in Los Angeles because I obtained his Social Security records, and he began drawing his Social Security in 1967 at the age of 65.  He died on October 19, 1974, within 11 days of the date of his former wife, Agnes Moorehead.  I haven't found a record of his remarriage to anyone yet, but somebody did collect his death benefit from social security; alas, they don't tell you who.  His biggest claim to fame comes from his marriage to the "Fabulous Redhead."  If you put his name into Google, all two or three items will concern Agnes.  He is forever doomed to wander the halls of entertainment history as Mr. Agnes Moorehead.


Jack married Agnes Robertson Moorehead on June 5, 1930, in New York City, New York. He then married Joanna Jayne Johnson, and they had four children together. He died on October 19, 1974, in Los Angeles, California, at the age of 72. His death was separated from Agnes by a little less than 6 months. It seems odd when you think about it that they should die so close together. 


Jack was a weak man, and I have been told by folks who were his neighbors after he married Joanna that he was an angry bully who terrified the neighborhood children when they tread on his grass. Think of Clint Eastwood yelling at kids in his front yard, and you find the core of who Jack was and who he became. They thought he had promise, and he didn’t. Agnes thought he would be a good husband, and he wasn’t. Joanna gave him children, but he actively terrorized the neighborhood children. Jack was an angry man wearing the face of a happy one. 




Thursday, April 24, 2025

Bob's Lies

 Bob’s Lies


Military Misteps

On January 28, 1941, Robert Marion Gist enlisted, stating that he had a four-year college education. He is identified as a Branch Immaterial Component Selectee, an enlisted man. Robert had registered for the draft in 1940, so he was likely drafted. From that point forward, it is anyone’s guess as to what happened, but I have a few facts, according to Gist et al., that I will put here and let you make your own decision:

  • December 6, 1942 Chicago Tribune

Lieutenant Robert M Gist, son of Mr. and Mrs. Marion Gist, 7930 Rhodes Avenue, who had a part in Abraham Lincoln before he entered the Army, is now stationed at New Orleans, Louisiana…For a year and a half after he entered the Army in January of 1941, he was assigned to Fort Custer, where he helped direct plays. Later, at Fort Benning, he received his wings of a parachute jumper and his commission.


  • In 1940, Robert registered for the draft listing of his employer as NBC. He was working in radio and had appeared in “Li'l Abner” and “Captain Midnight.”  In October 1941, Robert traveled the country in a civilian company, lecturing students about working in radio. He was in Texas and Arkansas in 1941 doing these lectures. Then, a little more editing, and in December 1942, he was a Lieutenant stationed in New Orleans. When he first entered, according to the paper, he was assigned to Fort Custer, where he helped direct plays. He then went to Fort Benning, where he received his wings as a parachutist and his commission. His story continues improving because, by 1944, he was a Gunnery Officer at Guadalcanal, where he got malaria. The Battle of Guadalcanal began in August 1942. According to the newspaper, he was stationed in New Orleans, where he became a paratrooper. It ended on February 9, 1943, and he was in Chicago healthy as a horse and getting married on August 18th, 1943, not lying in a military hospital suffering the lingering effects of malaria. Not to mention that there is no record of him being evacuated or lying in an army hospital. So we go from enlisting to touring the rural areas of Texas and Arkansas lecturing about the pure joy of radio to being stationed in New Orleans and then Fort Benning where he hurled himself out of planes as a parachutist to Gunnery Officer at Guadalcanal who contracted malaria but was miraculously cured in time to apply for a marriage license six months after the battle ended. I'm pretty sure that never happened, ever. Yes, he enlisted, but there is no record of him participating in overseas action.


None of the dates listed below are anywhere near Fort Benning, Georgia. So the aforementioned wings and commission, um, not so much. Fort Custer is in Augusta, Michigan, so exactly how did he direct plays there and do radio schools out of uniform in Arkansas and Texas?

  • February 27, 1941, Radio School Canyon Texas

  • On September 17, 1941, in East Helena, Arkansas, Gist is listed as performing in a series presented at Helena High School. Robert

  • October 23, 1941, Radio School Austin, Texas

  • November 6, 1941, Austin, Texas: Robert is mentioned again in the “Canyon High” series. 

  • November 24, 1941, Radio School Wichita Falls, Texas

  • November 25, 1941, Austin, Texas: Robert is mentioned again in the “Canyon High” series.

  • May 14, 1942, Radio School Canyon, Texas

  • August 18, 1943, Robert Gist marries Louise Van Dyke in Chicago Cook County, Illinois, and I can find no record of a divorce. License 1785171


On April 23, 1961, on page 132 of the Tampa Bay Times called “Robert Gist, One-Man Band. The article details Robert’s acting in a production while directing it. Standard fare, if you will. But there is one section of immense interest, and it goes like this:

“Gist got his start as an actor in his native Chicago at Hull House settlement house operated by the celebrated Maude Adams.  World War II interrupted his career, and he served as a paratrooper in the Philippines, suffering a head injury that required insertion of a metal plate into his skull.” All this time, we have been told malaria, and now he has a plate in his head?


Then we move on to March 4, 1948, and the engagement announcement of Jane Van Duser and Robert. “During World War II, he served as Captain in the Army, having been with the 11th Airborne Division in action in the Pacific. He holds two Presidential Citations.” Are you kidding me? For what exactly did he receive not one but two Presidential Citations? I’ll tell you what others received them for the liberation of the Philippines, which we have already established Robert was absent from because he was in New York doing summer theatre and “Harvey.” Stolen valor. The name given to the 11th Airborne Division was the Artic Angels because they were based in Alaska, and Robert was never part of it. Epic storytelling, Bob, but your research is horrendous.


The Battle of Guadal Canal was from August 7, 1942, to February 9, 1943. The Battle of the Philippines happened from October 20, 1944, to August 15, 1945. While Guadalcanal is possible, he left no record whatsoever, and the battle for the Philippines occurred after he was already in New York, doing summer theatre. So he had no plate in his head from a parachute mishap in 1944 because he was nowhere near the Phillippines. There are no records in the National Archives that verify any of Robert’s service zero. He enlisted, and that was that.


Robert was not buried with military honors. If he had served in the places he claimed, he would have deserved military honors, but he didn’t serve the way he claimed. There was a Robert M. Gist in New Orleans, but here's the problem: he was a Marine and African American. Stolen valor again.



I’m A Tough Guy, See!


Moving right along in Robert's fantasy bonanza, we’re going to look at his “tough kind from the southside” schtick. 


Here are the truths.

Robert was not a tough street kid. How do we know this? Look to the Calumet High School yearbook in 1935 for answers. What you’re going to see is that Robert Gist was a very dedicated student. He was a member of the Public Speaking Cub, ACCL, Welfare Delegate, Law Club, Fencing Club, Student Forum, Civic Forum, Mixed Chorus, Orchestra, Thespians, Track Team, and the Boys Glee Club. He also played basketball. Doesn’t sound like someone you’d expect to find being a juvenile delinquent, does it? No, it doesn’t at all, and that is because he wasn’t. I have never met a “bad boy” who was this involved in every single aspect of his high school. When you have a pedigree in high school like the one above, the bad boys do not want you hanging with them. You’re a nerd, not a thug.

Furthermore, the Southside News, on July 13, 1934, reported that the picnic of Lawn Presbyterian Church and Sunday School at 62nd and St. Louis Avenue was held at Ryan’s Woods on Saturday, July 8th. Attendee: Robert Gist. Again, church picnics are not something a juvenile delinquent would make a point of attending, and you will notice that the church throwing the picnic was a Presbyterian Church. Whose father was a Presbyterian Minister? Yes, that’s right, Aggie was the daughter of a Presbyterian Minister. Robert had far more in common with Aggie than anybody realized. With a pedigree like this and his theatre experience, Agnes was going to fall for him, lock, stock, and barrel. He was everything Jack wasn’t, including Presbyterian, and he essentially was practically custom-made for Agnes. Unfortunately for her.


Robert attended Calumet High School and graduated in February 1936. There is no evidence to support the story that he ended up in Hull House because he was a delinquent. He ended up there because Maude Adams was involved with it. Robert acted in Goodman Theater productions until 1940, when he is said to have transitioned to radio. I have yet to see his name listed, so he wasn’t a star performer, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and agree that he may have been a supporting actor or voice-over man.  The juvenile delinquent stuff was likely to add color to what appeared to be a genuinely average life in middle-class Chicago. He lived on the Southside because his father was an engineer, which made it easy for him to commute to and from work. The neighborhood they lived in was not crime-ridden at all. In 1930, his family lived at 7816 Paulina Street. This is a lovely brick three-apartment building built in 1920. When Robert lived there, it was only 10 years old. All of the surrounding buildings are brick-built around the same time. It's not the hood, and even today, it isn’t run-down.



Long story short, Robert Marion Gist was a chameleon with an overinflated sense of self. He made up colorful stories to pad out his extremely average young life. He continued to spin those yarns his whole life, embellishing them and failing to thoroughly research them. Can I prove he didn’t have malaria? Yes, he was never on any military hospital list. Again, there is a Robert M. Gist who was there, but as I said before, he was a Marine and African American. He’s the only Robert M. Gist who ended up in the hospital. Can I prove he wasn’t the tough, troubled kid he claimed he was? Yes, his high school yearbooks prove that. Was he a womanizer? Yes, ask the six women who lived with him. I can’t prove his reasoning for it all, but in the end, what matters is that he was never who he claimed to be. Smoke and mirrors that is all his personal life was. I have to admit, though, he was talented, and that's frankly the truth.






Bob's Women

 Bob’s Women

If I have learned one thing from studying Robert Gist, it is that he was a womanizer par excellence. I have gone through his life with a fine-tooth comb, and from the late 1930s, during his time with The Goodman Theatre, to his last marriage, Robert went through women as most people go through food. Robert appears to have been the kind of man who planned, and by that, I mean he had his next woman lined up before he moved on from his current wife or girlfriend. Admittedly, it would be impossible to know the absolute depth of his womanizing, but there is more than one that you can readily find information on.


Louise Van Dyke

Louise Van Dyke was born on the 23rd of August 1919 in Chariton, Iowa. Her parents were Byron Van Dyke and Lois Brown. Her father, Byron, worked at a bank, and her mother, Lois, was a homemaker. Louise had three sisters: Ruth, Helen, and Margery. Her life in Iowa was very sedate, and I do not doubt that Louise believed she was meant for something more.


After graduating from High School, Louise decided to head to the big city of Chicago. She went there to attend the Chicago Institute of Art, and by 1940, she was in her second year there. Louise was the manager of “The Goodman Theatre,” which is part of the Chicago Institute of Art. It was during her tenure here that she met Robert Gist. Something that I am positive, in the end, she wished she hadn’t.


Louise married Robert on August 18, 1943, in Chicago.  At this point, Mrs. Louise Gist goes off-grid. There is not one single mention of her with or without Robert. By July 1944, Robert is performing in summer theatre in New York with the Chapel Theatre Company in Great Neck, New York. Louise is nowhere to be seen. If you trust the newspapers, less than a year after they married, Robert has taken off, and Louise has left to pick up the pieces. By 1950, Louise was living with her parents in Chariton, Iowa, and the census lists her as divorced. Either she never changed her name, or she changed it back legally to Van Dyke. Marriage number one was in the archive. Louise went on with her life, and by November 28, 1950, she married Robert Sedore. He teaches music, and ultimately, in 1954, in Tallahassee, Florida, where Robert teaches at Florida State University (FSU), they put on a show. In this show, the part of The Narrator is played by Louise VanDyke Sedore, and she uses the incantation of the “Witch of Endor.” 


 Robert M Gist was married before Agnes in 1943 to Louise Van Dyke, and I can find no record of a divorce. However, Louise died in Tallahassee, Florida, in 1981 and is listed as Louise Sedore. Louise is listed in the 1940 census as the "partner" of Evelyn Lucinda Graves, a trained nurse. The term didn't mean then what it does now, but that they are recorded as partners is a fact.


Helen Jane Van Duser

Miss Helen Jane Van Duser was born in Rome, Pennsylvania, on the tenth of April 1935 to Harry Cleveland Van Duser, a salesman, and his wife Marie Hetrick. Jane, as she was called, grew up an only child who wanted for absolutely nothing. She attended Carnegie Mellon and graduated with a degree in theatre. Specifically, Jane was an actress. The newspapers in her hometown are packed with her achievements from first grade to college graduation. Such is the burden of being an only child - I speak from experience. Your life is lived under a microscope because you are the be-all and end-all of your parents. 


After college, Jane entered the professional acting merry-go-round and plucked the brass ring. Jane secured a spot in the South Shore Players in Indiana, Pennsylvania, and remained there for three years. It was during her third year that she played opposite the great Ethel Barrymore in “The Corn is Green.” Jane made her way to New York, where she was cast in the Broadway production of “Harvey.” It was during this production Jane met Robert, who had also been cast in the show. They worked and played together for four years. Then, on March 29, 1948, every newspaper in Pennsylvania announced the engagement of costars Helen and Robert. Her engagement announcement states that “ Robert retired from the Army in 1946; Captain Gist served with the famed 11th Airborne Division, which saw action from Burma to Corregidor and which holds two presidential citations.  No date has been set for the wedding.” A very fanciful description indeed, but Robert, as far as the military was concerned, never became a Captain. 


Jane was proud and very much in love; however, her relationship with Robert was doomed by 1948. Robert went to Hollywood, and on December 2, 1948, Jane moved to Hollywood to be with Robert, her loving fiance.  Then, in typical Robert style, everything fell apart. You see, Jane didn’t move until December, and that was the second fatal error she made. The first was trusting Robert to be faithful. You see that filming for the upcoming film “The Stratton Story,” in which Robert had a part, began during the summer of 1948. This movie literally broke Jane’s relationship with Robert. It was during the filming of the movie that Robert met Agnes, and by August of the following year, they were a couple. As for Jane, she stayed in Hollywood until January of 1950, when she went home for a week and stayed. In February, she returned to New York, and in September, her mother died. Talk about a pile-on. She had been Gisted and jilted.


Jacqueline B Mickles

Jacqueline Mickles was born in Westmount, Quebec, Canada, on April 1, 1927, to Lovell Grant Mickles and his wife, Marie Liette Fortier. Jacqueline was Catholic and was baptized in 1929. Her father was a salesman for the coal industry, and she grew up wanting nothing except stability. Jacqueline’s mother was married twice. First to Lovell Grant Mickles an American industrialist and then to William Henry Jarvis a financier. Jacqueline grew up in wealthy homes. It has been said by myself and others over the years that she was a Labatt Heiress. I can find no record of this. By 1975, her mother was forced to sell her home and all its contents. They were auctioned off. It should be noted that Jacqueline worked as a real estate agent in California for many years.


Jacqueline met Robert the same way his other women had in the theatre. By October of 1953, Jacqueline was cast in a Broadway Review. In June 1954, Jacqueline was in a musical and played the part of Miss Cucumber Pickles. That same year, Paul Gregory took his production of “The Caine Mutiny” to Broadway under the direction of Charles Laughton to the Plymouth Theatre in New York, where it ran for a year. Robert, never one to obey the rules of monogamy, clearly enjoyed his pickles. Agnes was shelved, jarred, and pickled as Jacqueline, the young, beautiful, blond, rich girl, pickled Robert and put him in her pantry. Agnes put all her eggs in one basket and dropped the basket. 


Robert married Jacqueline on September 9, 1959. Their first child was born on April 1st, 1958, and their second on July 24, 1960. They wasted no time. The first few years seemed happy enough in print, but I cannot speak to what happened behind closed doors. In 1965, Robert and Jacqueline separated, and by July of 1966, they were divorced. The reason, that’s right, is another woman whose name appears linked with Robert in August of 1966. Her name was Irene Tsu, and by December, Robert was running to Florida to “see his girlfriend.” Irene had the good sense not to marry him.


Edwina Muehlberger

Edwina G. Muehlbeger was born on the twelfth of October 1929 in New York City. Her father, Edward O. Muehlberger, a Canadian, was a salesman for beverages and poultry. Her mother, Laura Emma Beck, was a homemaker. Edwina had two sisters, Norma and Laura. While not wealthy, the family managed to fare well enough. Her sister Norma emigrated to Brazil and became a permanent resident. By 1950, Edwina was a dancer working in nightclubs in New York City. By the 1960s, Edwina had made her way to California and turned out to be Robert's perfect match. When I say perfect I don’t mean hearts and flowers I mean literally his match. Edwina could wed them and shed them just as quickly as Robert. 


On January 23, 1951, Edwina married Jack Lewis in Queens, New York. The date of their divorce is not recorded. The next husband was Albert Henderson Pegram. They were divorced in October of 1967. Husband number three was Robert. They married on April 19, 1969. By 1973, Robert and Edwina divorced. Husband number four was Michael Arthofer, and they married on April 4, 1973. The date of their divorce is unknown. Husband number five was a complete surprise because his name was Robert Gist. That’s right, folks; she married him twice and was still married to him when he died in 1995. Edwina was the ultimate winner of the brass ticket named Robert Gist.







The Oddest Note?

A letter of a sort written by Bill Marshall.  September 29, 1950 Dear Agnes, Listen, sexy one, this is to add to your sexy note to Ray Milla...