Judy Garland on Judy Garland (16 page)

But I've always said that I was born under a Lucky Star, somewhere Over the Rainbow—because that night Gus Edwards was in the audience and he came backstage and told my mother that my sisters and I should resume our trio singing—“With her ear,” he said, “nothing musical is beyond her.” I remember his exact words on account of how I thought he mentioned my ear because my ears were the only parts of me that were not disfigured!

It was soon after that that The Gumm Sisters got their first Professional Engagement at the Biltmore Theatre in L.A. Boy, did we celebrate! We always celebrated every Big, First Occasion at our house. That night we had ice cream and store cake and lemon pop and candy. We were Big Time! Well, sir, we even had a private dressing room
with maid service.
I kept asking the maid to go and get me ice cream sodas and chewing gum. I didn't know what else to ask her for. I still send people out to get me ice
cream sodas and chewing gum when I'm working. Well, we were all so happy and elated we didn't even think to ask what our salaries would be. Mom had bought all three of us new dresses. I remember them so well because they were our first
bought
dresses. And all our friends came to the theater. Mom and Dad sat in the front row of the orchestra to get the applause going. And we got a lot of it, too. Lovely waves of it!

I guess that was the first time I ever had a conscious, sort of
formed
ambition to Be Someone I never thought of going in movies, never once in my life. But I did think, I'm going to be a Singer! I did think, I'm going to have lots of pretty clothes someday and a lovely house and a red automobile! They always say “As a man thinks” … well,
I
say that “As a
little girl thinks”
because I have them, now, the pretty clothes, my own house, even the red automobile!

But Pride certainly goeth, at times, before an awful belly-whopper—for that night, when we opened our pay envelopes after the show, we found
fifty cents apiece, in each
! So that was my First Paycheck—FIFTY CENTS! And Mom had paid ten dollars each for our dresses. I said “Are we bankrupt?” And Daddy laughed and said, “No, but I guess Woman's Place is In The Home—and in school, for you three!”

Buddy West—well,
Mister West, I certainly remember
you
!
You
certainly belong among my Important Firsts on account of how you were the first boy I ever noticed, and
I hated you
! Maybe Dr. Freud and the psychologists would say that I was having an “overreaction” but I called it just plain hating you—in fact, I hated all boys after you, for ages, well, for
months—I
remember how, when Daddy would reminisce, saying “when I was a boy—” I'd say, passionately, “you weren't a boy, you weren't ever a nasty little boy!” You gave me my First Black Eye, Mister West, sir, if you care. You threw a stone at me and gave me the pip of a shiner! Mom laughed at me when I came home with the black beacon. She was very wise with me, my Mom, she always laughed off the little, hurtful things that happened to me. So that I wouldn't take misfortune, or myself, too seriously.

But the girls certainly knew how to make my life miserable. Whenever they wanted to tease me, they'd go around yodeling a little ditty they reworded. I can still remember every horrid word of it. It went like this:

“Frances is mad and I am glad,

And I know how to tease her,

A bottle of wine to make her shine,

And Buddy West to squeeze her!''

Ugh, I can get a cactus spine even now, when I think of it! But I got back at you, Mister West,
if
you recall. One day we were having a fire drill in school. I had an all-day sucker in my hand. We got in line and you tried to kiss me and I hit you in the face with the all-day sucker and it
stuck
there! Gosh, did
you
look funny!

I really had my First Heartbreak in Lancaster, too. I had quite a Hard Time there, really, in many ways. The kind of ways that hurt kids something fierce. When the neighborhood mothers heard that I'd been on the stage, that I was a “Theatrical Child,” none of the children would play with me. Gee, they were mean to me, awful mean. Like I had a lot of costumes up in the attic, of course, real stage costumes and lots of times, especially Halloween, they'd all come to my house, so sweet, sugar wouldn't melt in their mouths, and they'd borrow costumes from me. And then, when they'd got what they wanted, they'd ditch me, leave me sitting alone in my costume. It almost broke my heart.

I never learned—hopefully I'd take the kids to Dad's theater night after night, for free. I'd buy them all candy and gum, Vera Shrimp, her little sister, Ardis Shrimp, Muggsy Ming, Laurana Blankenship (did you ever hear such names!) and the others—and they'd grab the candy and the tickets and then they'd scuttle in and leave me standing there, alone! Those little SHRIMPS! I'd think, fiercely, and never know how funny it was.

And of course I remember my First Fashion Show. Daddy was putting on a Fashion Show at his theater and Mom made me a frilly costume and fixed up an enormous frilly hat box which was to be carried out on the stage with me in it. I was to come out, all bowing and smiling, but—my “friends” had turned up and they gave me the Bronx Cheer and what I mean is, they put their hearts in it! I started to cry, right then and there. You and the girls were out front, Mom, making signs to me not to mind. But I did mind. And Daddy was
furious.
No one could make me cry when
he
was around. I was such a “Daddy's Girl”—so he just walked down the aisle of the theater and announced that “the rude, young people would
please get out of the theater, get their money refunded at the box office from the cashier, and stay out!”

Then there was the time when I was going to the Professional School—Jimmie and I. Frankie Darro was in my class and that mortal boy spent every mortal minute whispering to me. One day the teacher grabbed Frankie by the back of his neck, while holding a croquet mallet in her hand. I piped up, “Atta girl!” and she hit me over the head with the mallet! I don't know what she was doing with a croquet mallet and I don't know why she hit
me
when I was taking up for her! But she did. And Jimmie was furious. She took me home right then and there and I never did go back!

Of course, I had
some
fun in Lancaster—now and then the two Shrimps would come over, or some of the others, and we'd play my favorite game of Kick The Can, in our backyard. I was a tomboy sort of a little girl, I guess. I never much cared how I looked. I was too busy kicking the can and ringing doorbells to care about clothes—we rang doorbells
every
night, whether it was Halloween or not. But just the same, I
do
remember my first Party Dress. Blue chiffon it was, accordion pleated, with little rosebuds just growing all over it!

I believe that when I changed my name, or rather when Mr. George Jessel changed it for me, that was the first real turn of the Wheel of Fortune for me! I believe in numerology. And I believe that the name Judy Garland is right for me—so I date my Beginning As An Actress from my Second Christening. Of course, there were to be a few Grim Detours, but nevertheless, I was On My Way.

Well, it was not so very long after our “financial crisis” at the Biltmore Theater that a theater manager in Chicago offered “The Gumm Sisters” an engagement at the Oriental Theatre in Chicago, with, he said, our names in electric lights! That's what got us, especially me! Applause and electric lights—yummy! Daddy didn't want us to go but after lots of coaxing and teasing he finally consented; the family exchequer yielded new dresses again, and The Gumm Sisters accompanied by their mother set forth to conquer the world!

I remember how I could hardly
wait
to get to Chicago to see our names in electric lights. That's all we talked about, all the way across the country. On opening night we got to the theater an hour and a half before opening
time just so we could stand there and GLOAT! What's more, we took a
taxicab,
feeling that no extravagance was too great for this Great Moment. But when we got there, it wasn't “The Gumm Sisters” we saw, winking at us over the marquee, but—“The GLUM SISTERS!” The adjective “glum” was certainly appropriate to our mood for the rest of that evening.

But, once again, my Lucky Star did its stuff—this time it brought me a new, good friend and a new name. George Jessel was playing on the bill with us. George Knew How It Was. He tried to comfort the forlorn, sort of damp little trio that we were. He took me on his knee and told me I was “as pretty as a garland of flowers”—and then I remember how he stopped dead in his verbal tracks, so to speak, and exclaimed “Garland! Garland is a lovely name for you, little one, and they can't kick it around—how about changing your name to Garland?”

I said, “Yes. And Judy, I want Judy for a first name—let's name me Judy Garland!” So that very night, then and there, backstage, “Baby Frances Gumm” became Judy Garland.

We wired Daddy that night. I signed the wire “Judy Garland” and he wired back, “Have you lost your mind?” and I said to Mom, “Wire him back and say ‘No, but I've found a name!'”

But the Fates are pretty funny old girls, I guess, and not very quick at doing a right-about-face. It took them quite some time to realize that they shouldn't treat Judy Garland quite so disrespectfully as they had been treating Baby Frances Gumm. The new name on the marquee didn't save us. For when our engagement at the Oriental was over, Chicago just didn't seem to know that we were there. We didn't want to write Daddy for money, having come against his wishes. Just in time we got an offer to appear at the Chicago World's Fair. But when our concession closed, our salary checks were held and, for the first time in our lives, we were penniless! And that was, also, the first time I ever bearded a manager in his den. I guess I wasn't a very good bearder, though, because although I demanded our money in loud, ferocious tones, he just turned on me and said, “Put up and git!”—and he looked so much like a gangster that we “got!”

So then I had my first and, I am happy to say, my only experience of Facing Starvation With A Smile! Mother and the girls were out canvassing the agencies and it was up to me to perform a miracle with the two
eggs and the one aged piece of bread, which was all that remained to us of this world's goods. Well, sir, I just scrambled those eggs, to make them go farther, and I dried that bread in the oven, dryer than it
was,
I mean, and when Mom and the girls got back we had a celebration out of
that
little snack on account of how they'd landed us a job and it would mean enough money to get us home!

We got home. Dad didn't say anything. But he had that “Woman's Place Is In The Home” look in his eyes again, and back to school we went. We did do our act occasional weekends. But when audiences in the Valley Theater in Lancaster and the Strand Theatre in Long Beach tittered at our imitations of the Brox Sisters and when a smart-aleck boy in the balcony threw an orange at us one night—well, our weekends were spent at home, too!

I had my First Crush on a boy at about this time. I was getting over being allergic to boys by now. His name was Galen Reid and I think he must have “conditioned” me for my crush on Mr. Gable because he looked sort of like him, in a small way. Anyway, he sent me a Valentine on Valentine's Day. And that was not only my First Attention from A Boy but also it was the
fanciest
valentine of any girl in the school! He later confided to me that he had paid
twenty-five cents
for it and I was simply Overcome. I think it was then that I first began exercise my Feminine Wiles, like washing my hands now and then, you know, and combing my hair, and even putting some very white powder on my nose when Mom wasn't looking. Also, I would let Galen ride me home from school every afternoon on the handlebars of his bike. And as our house was directly across the street from the school, it took a little maneuvering. I always pretended I had turned my ankle or that the street was muddy or something so it wouldn't seem
too
silly.

Well, the next Momentous Occasion in my life was my First Meeting with Mickey! It took place in the corridor of Lawlor's Professional School where, after Suzanne was married and Jimmie was Keeping Company, I was enrolled. Mickey had been sent out into the hall for punishment. So had I. I sort of stuck around, eyeing him—and I saw that he was combing his hair and that he had got the comb stuck in his mop. Always the helpful type, I offered to help him get the comb out, and I nearly scalped him!

Oh, and my First Love Note was from Mickey! He sent it to me in the classroom. It said, “I love you. Do you love me?” I was almost fainting with excitement, with the Drama of It All! And I wanted to make the most dramatic answer possible. Just the night before, it so happened, I had seen the picture,
Silver Dollar,
and I remembered, word for word, the lines the heroine spoke when the hero told her he loved her. So I wrote them down on a piece of paper, made a spitball of it and threw it to Mickey. Then I waited, my pulse in an uproar. Then I saw him look at me, but—
with icy contempt in his eyes!
At the noon hour, he just brushed past me in the hall. “Oh,” he sneered, simply
sneered,
“so
you
saw
Silver Dollar,
too, did you!” Well, you may
imagine
what came next!

Judy Garland's new contract, recently filed in Superior Court, shows that Judy will receive $2,000 per week for the next three years, $2500 for the following two years, and $3,000 for the last two years. That gives her a total salary of $680,000 for seven years.
—(EDITOR'S NOTE.)