josh pincus is crying

This week’s Illustration Friday challenge word is “sink”.

Born in Kingston, Jamaica, Frank Silvera immigrated to the United States with his family as a youngster. Determined to follow his dream of acting, he appeared briefly on Broadway before joining the US Naval Reserves during World War II. After the war, he returned to acting. He was featured in the Audie Murphy western The Cimarron Kid.  This was the first in his career of over seventy-five motion picture and television roles.

Frank was frequently cast in “racially indeterminate” roles. Because he was black with light skin tone, he regularly played Mexicans, Blacks, Polynesians, Indians, Asians and even the occasional white role. On Broadway, he played Ben Gazzara’s father in A Hatful of Rain.  In films, he was usually cast as criminals and other unsavory types, co-starring in Mutiny on the Bounty, Viva Zapata!  and Roger Corman’s take on The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.  Once he auditioned for a small role as an elevator operator. The producer told him “he wasn’t black enough”. Frank asked “Well, am I light enough for one of the white roles?” The amused producer gave him a part.

Frank founded The Theater of Being in Los Angeles, to help young black actors and actresses get a start in show business. He was also a vocal and active advocate for civil rights in the 1950s and 60s.

In 1970, Frank was attempting to repair a faulty garbage disposal under the kitchen sink in his home when he was accidentally electrocuted. He was 55 years old and a regular cast member on the popular TV western The High Chaparral  at the time.  His final film, Valdez is Coming,  was released after his death.

In 1973, The Frank Silvera Writers’ Workshop Foundation was co-founded by actor Morgan Freeman in Frank’s memory.

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My annual Christmas music compilation is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD for a limited time.
26 unusual songs and a custom full-color cover with track listings — all for you and for FREE!
Just CLICK HERE for “A Non-Traditional Christmas 2011.”
(You will be taken to a new window. Click the word “download” next to the title, not the big green “DOWNLOAD” button at the bottom of the page.)

Happy Holidays from your pal JPiC!
(Please contact me if you have trouble with the download.)

At quarter to six on the morning of March 22, 2011, Rebecca Coriam picked up the phone in a hallway of the Disney cruise ship “Wonder”, dialed an on-board number and, after speaking for a minute or two, began to cry. A fellow crew member, passing her on his way to who-knows-where, stopped to ask Rebecca if she was okay. She nodded in the affirmative and he continued on his way.

That was the last time Rebecca, or “Bex” as she was known to family and friends, was seen.

When Rebecca failed to show up for her morning shift as a youth activities counselor, Disney Cruise Line executives contacted her parents at their northwestern England home to say she was missing. Mr. and Mrs. Coriam were invited to Los Angeles to meet the ship when it made port at San Pedro. They were met by Superintendent Paul Rolle of the Royal Bahamas Police Force. Because the Disney Wonder is registered in The Bahamas, investigations of this nature fall under Bahamanian jurisdiction. The officer informed Rebecca’s parents that police had little to go on.

 Upon arrival in the Los Angeles suburb of San Pedro, Rebecca’s distraught parents hoped to talk to crew and passengers but, instead were greeted by an empty ship as preparations for the next scheduled cruise had already begun. They were able to talk with some crew members, but received only minimal information. They gathered Rebecca’s belongings - photos, clothing, rosary beads - and watched the short surveillance video of Rebecca on the phone in the hallway. They were given cold, vague answers to their numerous questions. The ship’s captain told them a pair of flip-flops, that may have belonged to their 24-year-old daughter, had been found in a private “crew only” area, but they couldn’t be sure. Soon, the bewildered and distressed couple found themselves standing on the San Pedro dock as the ship — emblazoned with the universally-recognized “mouse ears” — sailed off on another journey, leaving them to wonder if they’d see their dear Bex again or if anyone cared if they ever would.

Barbara Nichols was definitely “in on it”. For nearly four decades, she flaunted her way across Hollywood in small (even uncredited) roles as strippers, gold-diggers, prostitutes, gun molls and other assorted floozies. She played characters with names like “Lola”, “Brandy”, “Candy” and even “Poopsie”. She played her brassy, buxom, wise-cracking dumb-blond scene-stealer to its absolute limits. And she laughed all the way to the bank.

1957 was a banner year for Barbara. That year, she appeared in three hit films, Pal Joey, The Sweet Smell of Success and The Pajama Game,  alongside Frank Sinatra, Rita Hayworth, Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis, Doris Day and other top Hollywood stars of the day. Barbara was also romantically linked to dozens of Tinseltown’s eligible (and not-so-eligible) hunks. She was funny, talented and “on-the-ball”, unlike similar one-dimensional bimbos (like Diana Dors and Barbara Payton) to whom she was often compared. Unfortunately, she made some low-budget clunkers and, as the 1960s approached, her film career was shot. The always-resilient Barbara turned to television. She appeared in many TV sitcoms and dramas in the 60s, delivering her lines and slinking around the set as she had done in so many films so many times before. Her popularity among producers and directors made her a favorite guest star on The Beverly Hillbillies, Batman, The Untouchables  and The Jack Benny Program.

Two near fatal car wrecks took a toll on Barbara’s health. Despite quick recoveries and an eagerness to return to performing, she suffered severe physical damage that was worse than she let on. She fell into a coma for several months and passed away from complications of a liver ailment in 1976. Barbara was 46.
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My annual Christmas music compilation is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD for a limited time.
26 unusual songs and a custom full-color cover with track listings — all for you and for FREE!
Just CLICK HERE for “A Non-Traditional Christmas 2011.”
(You will be taken to a new window. Click the word “download” next to the title, not the big green “DOWNLOAD” button at the bottom of the page.)

Happy Holidays from your pal JPiC!
(Please contact me if you have trouble with the download.)

In the early 1930s, Frank Churchill filled the void of house composer just after Carl Stalling left The Disney Studios to join Warner Brothers (along with Disney animator Ub Iwerks). Frank was a veritable music machine, cranking out “feel good” musical scores to accompany the cheerful antics depicted in Disney’s animated cartoons. His music and collaborative lyrics were featured in some of Disney’s most popular shorts, including The Tortoise and The Hare, The Robber Kitten,  several Mickey Mouse cartoons and, famously,  The Three Little Pigs,  which introduced the Frank Churchill-penned hit ”Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” Based on the popularity of his catchy tunes, Walt Disney asked Frank to score his upcoming full-length animated film Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs  in 1937. Frank scored the film and wrote eight songs, including “Whistle While You Work”, “Heigh-Ho” and “Someday My Prince Will Come”. The film was an undeniable hit and the songs became instant classics.

Frank became music director at The Disney Studios and continued to compose music for Disney shorts. His next major task was scoring Disney’s 1941 animated film Dumbo,  on which he collaborated with composer Oliver Wallace (who wrote “”Der Fuehrer’s Face” recorded by Spike Jones). Frank earned an Oscar nomination for the song “Baby Mine” from Dumbo and took home one of the coveted statuettes for his score from the same film.

Soon, he began working on the music for Bambi,  Disney’s planned release for 1942. Considering the happy, cheerful tone of his compositions, Frank was a solemn, reserved, troubled, and often depressed, man. While working on the score for Bambi,  he received negative criticism from Walt Disney on the direction in which the music was headed. That, coupled with the death of two close friends and bouts of heavy drinking, proved too much for Frank. On May 14, 1942, just two months after winning the Academy Award, Frank sat down at his piano and shot himself. His score for Bambi,  which was completed by colleague Edward Plumb, received an Oscar nomination.
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My annual Christmas music compilation is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD for a limited time.
26 unusual songs and a custom full-color cover with track listings — all for you and for FREE!
Just CLICK HERE for “A Non-Traditional Christmas 2011.”
(You will be taken to a new window. Click the word “download” next to the title, not the big green “DOWNLOAD” button at the bottom of the page.)

Happy Holidays from your pal JPiC!
(Please contact me if you have trouble with the download.)

Joyce Compton had an unusual Hollywood career (unusual, at least, as compared to the multitude of tragic Hollywood careers highlighted on this blog). Joyce starred in hundreds of uncredited roles in a career that spanned five decades. She was regularly cast as the quintessential “dumb blond”, playing the part in big-budget films and B-grade productions. Her portrayals of ditsy hatcheck girls, brassy flirts and sassy prostitutes usually consisted of one or two lines delivered in scene-stealing glory. The roles were one-dimensional and formulaic, but always an audience favorite. Joyce played supporting parts in Imitation of Life, Rose of Washington Square, They Drive by Night, Christmas in Connecticut, Mildred Pierce, Sorry, Wrong Number  and many, many others. She was featured alongside such big names as Barbara Stanwyck, Cary Grant, Al Jolson, Claudette Colbert, Humphrey Bogart and her good friend Clara Bow. Although she appeared in some well-known and revered films, she also worked on pictures with budgets so low, she wore her own clothes instead of lavish, wardrobe department-supplied costumes.

Around the time Joyce turned 40, Hollywood decided she was too old the play “the dumb blond” role. Offers came less frequently and Joyce’s star began to fade. So, at 40 years-old, Joyce became a registered nurse. She got a kick out of being recognized by patients at hospitals and was always eager to relate stories of her acting days and receive praise graciously.

Joyce retired to a life of gardening, painting and occasionally watching herself in an old film on late-night television. She passed away in 1997 at the age of 90. Her death went virtually unnoticed by the press.

This week’s Illustration Friday word is “round”.

Michael Larson was flat broke, unemployed and had few possessions. He did, however, have a lot of time. And he used his time wisely. With no job, he began watching game shows to combat his boredom. One show, Press Your Luck,  piqued his interest.

Famous for its simple general knowledge questions, big money payoffs and the irrepressible Whammy character, Press Your Luck  was one of the more popular game shows. Contestants answered questions posed by host Peter Tomarken and were rewarded with spins on the “Big Board”. The “Big Board” was made up of 18 lighted squares, each briefly displaying a prize of dollar amount in five distinct flashing patterns. Interspersed among the prizes were Whammies, little cartoon devils whose job was to wipe out a player’s accumulated winnings. From the privacy of his home, Michael watched intently (and later videotaped) episodes of Press Your Luck.  He stared and focused on the patterns of flashing lights and prizes on the “Big Board”. Soon, he realized that two squares never showed a Whammy. He figured if he could memorize the patterns, he could surely gain an unbeatable edge and never hit a Whammy. Of course, he would have to be selected to appear on the show, but to Michael, that was a minor detail.

In May 1984, after weeks and weeks of intense preparation, Michael used the last of his savings to travel to Hollywood from his native Ohio for a tryout. Executive producer Bill Carruthers was happy to have Michael as a contestant despite contestant supervisor Bobby Edwards’ distrust and reservations.

In the first round of his appearance, Michael only accumulated three spins and compared to his competitor’s combined fourteen. He even hit a Whammy on one of his spins. The second round was a different story. Michael refocused, answered several questions and finished the second round with seven spins, more than he needed.

When his turn began, his demeanor from Round One changed drastically. He grew silent and stone faced. Ed Long, another contestant, called Michael’s state “trance-like”. Michael furrowed his brow and, with the precision and concentration of a surgeon, he stopped on a square illuminated with a high money amount and an award of an additional spin. He repeated this action over and over again. Over the course of a regulation game (that CBS broadcast over two days, due to the length of Michael’s turn), Michael racked up $110,237, the highest single-day win in game show history (to that date). He also passed the CBS “winnings cap” and was not permitted to return, although he was the reigning champion. CBS didn’t want to pay Michael, accusing him of cheating. The rules were scoured and a clause could not be found prohibiting memorization of the patterns of the board.

Michael divided his winnings, setting aside a portion for taxes, placing some in a bank account and investing the remainder in real estate. He later discovered that his real estate deal was an elaborate ponzi scheme and he lost his entire investment. Then, Michael heard about a contest being run by a local radio station. A random serial number from a one-dollar bill could be matched for a $30,000 payoff. Michael began withdrew the remaining funds from his bank account in one-dollar bills. He would sit and carefully check the serial numbers of each bill, intending to re-deposit the bills if a match was not found. In December 1984, Michael and his wife attended a Christmas party. While they were out, their home was broken into and $40, 000 in bagged one-dollar bills were stolen. Michael accused his wife Teresa of having been involved and their already-fragile marriage ended.

In 1994, when the film Quiz Show  was released, interest in the Press Your Luck  scandal was reignited. Michael, recently diagnosed with throat cancer, appeared on Good Morning America  to discuss his brief infamy. A short time later, Michael became involved with a nationwide lottery fraud scheme and went into hiding. He passed away in central Florida in 1999 and it was only then did his family learn of his whereabouts.

E. Mason Hopper, a prolific director of the silent film era, saw young Edwina Booth in a stage production and was taken by her performance. He offered the actress a small role in an upcoming film starring Marie Prevost. Impressed with Edwina’s ability, MGM cast her in the studio’s new big-budget jungle adventure Trader Horn.  The cast and crew were sent on location to East Africa. Trader Horn  (1931) was the first major motion picture to be shot in Africa. (Prior efforts were small travelogue films.) MGM hoped the realism of a location shoot would increase the film’s appeal and success.

The production of Trader Horn  was plagued with difficulty. The crew was poorly prepared and poorly equipped to film in Africa. MGM decided, at the last minute, to film with sound. Edwina’s role as “The White Goddess” required her to perform in a skimpy, next-to-nothing, costume. During the long working hours and extended production time, she was overcome by the jungle heat and unfamiliar insects. Edwina contracted malaria and was out of commission (and the movie business) for six years while she recovered. She sued MGM, claiming she was provided with inadequate clothing, inadequate shelter and forced to sunbathe in the nude. Her lawsuit asked for one million dollars. Fortunately for MGM, Trader Horn  was a success. Unfortunately for Edwina, she settled for a reported $35,000.

When Edwina was ready to re-enter show business, the reputation of her lawsuit preceded her and no studio wanted her services. She managed to make two very low-budget adventure serials that met with little fanfare and little success. When Trader Horn  was re-released in 1938, Edwina Booth was a forgotten name. She completely withdrew from the public eye and became very active in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, although she received fan mail for the rest of her life. After years of false rumors about her death, Edwina passed away quietly and in obscurity in 1991 at the age of 86.

As a child, little Sue Hamilton had aspirations of becoming a farmer, but sometimes things change. And things changed for Sue.

After high school, Sue began modeling. A photographer with whom she worked sent a sampling of her pictures to Playboy.  The magazine was impressed and contacted Sue. She was elated -never believing that, at just under five feet tall and weighing in at 98 pounds, she was Playboy material. A date was set for a photoshoot and Sue (posing under the name “Sue Williams”) became Miss April 1965. She was one of the shortest Playmates in the publication’s history, as well as the first with breast implants.

When the brief fame that the Playboy  appearance brought died down, she returned to her job as a secretary at a film processing company in Burbank, California. A scout from American International Pictures (AIP) saw her pictorial in Playboy,  sought her out and signed her to a long-term contract. Her debut role in the beach party romp, How to Stuff a Wild Bikini  (Frankie Avalon’s last beach movie), gave her two speaking lines. She went on to make four more films under the directorial guidance of AIP mainstays William Asher (husband of Elizabeth Montgomery and creator of Bewitched)  and Norman Taurog (Oscar’s Best Director in 1931).

In 1965, Sue, along with other AIP contract actresses, went on a publicity tour for the auto racing comedy Fireball 500.  During the course of the tour, she was interviewed for a newspaper article about dieting. Sue confided that despite her tiny stature, she strictly avoided butter, potatoes, sauces, gravy, and dessert. Dinners, she explained, were a small sliver of meat and several peas.

Sue continued modeling for four more years, until she committed suicide in 1969 at age 23.

In the month following the capture of the Chinese capital of Nanking by the Japanese during the second Sino-Japanese War in 1937, thousands of Chinese civilians and disarmed soldiers were murdered and up to 80,000 Chinese women were raped by soldiers of the Imperial Japanese Army. As the years went on, many Japanese nationalists have disputed the severity of the incident and have dismissed the numbers as exaggerated. Some have even denied the occurrence at all, claiming the stories were wartime propaganda. Iris Chang, the granddaughter of escapees of the massacre, devoted her life to uncovering the truth.

For two years, Iris conducted extensive research. She gathered information, interviewed survivors, travelled to Nanking and pored over numerous chronicles and personal diaries. In 1997, she published The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II.  Her effort was met with much praise and an equal amount of criticism. She was heralded as bringing previously hidden accounts to light. However, she was condemned by others for what was called “seriously flawed [research] full of misinformation and harebrained explanations”.  After publication of the book, Iris solicited the Japanese government to apologize for its troops’ wartime conduct and to pay compensation.

Her next book, The Chinese in America,  was a history of Chinese-Americans. She presented them as perpetually on the outside of society, despite their indispensable contributions.

While preparing for her fourth book focusing on the Bataan Death March, she suffered a nervous breakdown. Lack of sleep coupled with the ongoing depression she experienced during her research for the Nanking book were determined to be the cause. A colleague helped her to check into the Norton Psychiatric Hospital in Louisville, Kentucky. There, doctors diagnosed her with brief reactive psychosis. She was given medication and observed for signs of bipolar disorder. Her ordeal in Nanking had left her physically weak and mentally drained for years.

On November 9, 2004, Iris was found dead in her car by a county employee on a rural road south of Los Gatos, California. She had shot herself through the mouth with a handgun. Later, three handwritten notes were discovered, one of which read in part: “I promise to get up and get out of the house every morning. I will stop by to visit my parents then go for a long walk. I will follow the doctor’s orders for medications. I promise not to hurt myself. I promise not to visit Web sites that talk about suicide.”

Iris was 36 years old.

Ten-year old Jay R. Smith made his debut as part of the “Our Gang” comedy group in Boys Will Be Joys  in 1925. He was brought on by Hal Roach as a replacement for the popular Mickey Daniels. Freckle-faced Jay stuck with Roach Studios for five years, appearing in over thirty short films, until he called it quits from the movie business in 1929.

As a young man, he served his country in World War II. After the war, he moved to Hawaii and started a retail paint business from which he enjoyed great success. In the 1990s, Jay retired to Las Vegas. He regularly traveled to California where he was a frequent guest at the Hollywood Collector Show, where he met fans and signed autographs. He said “Looking back, [filming “Our Gang”] was a very pleasant time in my life, and as I grow older, it gets more valuable.”

In 2002, Jay befriended Charles “Wayne” Crombie, a homeless man. Crombie performed odd jobs around Jay’s home in exchange for the use of a shed to sleep in. On October 5, 2002, Jay’s body was found in the desert, 25 miles north of Las Vegas. He was a victim of robbery and had died of a result of multiple stab wounds. Crombie was eventually tried and convicted of Jay’s murder and sentenced to two consecutive life terms.