Paul Lynde - A Biography (19 page)

To Paul’s surprise, his box had been relocated to the desert, along with the rest of the seven-foot tic-tac-toe board. The daytime
Squares
had been cancelled after totaling 3,526 episodes, and which Paul believed was due to his leaving. The night time version would be filmed at the Rivera Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. The very first show back, a female contestant was asked to pick a star. “Paul Smith,” she said.

The host of the show looked puzzled and questioned her choice, “Paul Smith?…Oh you mean Paul Lynde,” Peter said, as he broke into laughter.

Paul looked disgusted and snarled, “Thanks for the welcome back.”

The night time version of
Squares
lasted only one year. The Rivera Hotel did not renew its contract with the show, and the producers decided to end it. Paul, by choice, was not a panelist on the final show, but he did do a walk-on for the audience.

In August of 1981, Paul realized the marriage he had to show business was in trouble. He had decisions to make. He called a few friends then packed a bag for himself and one for Alfred. He headed to Ogunquit, Maine, which was a pretty quiet town — that is until Paul arrived. He was greeted by his good friend Richard Perkins, who lived there. Paul hoped the serene town with its artistic shops and beautiful white sandy beaches would somehow guide him.

Richard and Paul headed to a restaurant in town called The Fan Club. At that time, it was run by Julianne Meade — Ed Sullivan’s niece — and her husband. The popular eatery had a view looking over Perkins Cove and always had a crowd. Paul entered, wearing his dark shades and a hat, followed by his dog on a leash. The waitress brought the pooch his own bowl filled with dog biscuits. On the table where they were seated, was an exposed blaring light bulb that was buzzing with wires surrounding it. Paul took one look at it and said, “Are we going to eat, or operate?”

After dinner, Richard said to his friend, “It must be nice being incognito and no one bothering you.”

“Want to change that?” Paul grinned with a bit of mischief in his eyes, “Watch this.” He let go of the leash and let his dog run loose through the restaurant. Then he called out, “Alfred.” That was all he had to say. The voice was unmistakable. In seconds, he was mobbed for autographs, and he basked in their response.

Each morning, Alfred and his master took a half mile walk around Perkins Cove. Helen Horn, a local, had just been at a party the evening before with Paul, and was talking to two women about it. She was in the photo gallery in town to pick up her portraits. Photographer Daphne Weld Nichols was attending her client, and her business partner, Diane Dalpe, was playing with the kitten they had just adopted when the phone rang. It was a friend who knew Daphne was a fan and whispered into the phone, “Paul Lynde is going to be walking down your street with his dog any minute.”

Daphne was so excited and told Diane, who put the kitten down. They ran outside to get a peek at the celebrity. Helen said to the girls, “I’ll get him for you.” She went outside and greeted the dog, “Hello Alfred,” she said ignoring his master.

Paul put his hand on his hip, “My name is Paul,” he chuckled.

Then he looked up and noticed a beautiful picture in the window. By now Daphne and Diane had walked outside. From afar he called out, “That’s a beautiful painting.”

“It’s a photograph,” Daphne politely corrected him.

The art lover replied, “Oh no, I know a painting when I see one.” Daphne explained it was a photo of her daughter that she printed on canvas. He couldn’t believe it and hesitated to go closer. He looked nervous about getting trapped if he stopped too long, he couldn’t resist and hopped-over cautiously to get a closer look. Meanwhile, Alfred spotted the kitten in the studio, he cut loose from Paul, and chased the little feline around the office until she ended up in a planter. Everyone was laughing at the chaos.

Daphne got up her nerve, “Why don’t you think of having your picture taken here?”

Paul shook his head, as he got hold of his dog’s leash. “I don’t have the right clothes and I need a haircut.” And off he went.

A few days later, Paul called the photographer and asked for a sitting. He arrived that morning with his hair freshly cut, and he was wearing a red sweatshirt, jeans, and fisherman boots. “I went to LL Bean and I just love this outfit,” he explained to the girls. “I want to be myself, and this outfit does it.” Daphne and Diane spent the entire morning shooting photos of Paul in the outdoors. Then they took him down to the beach, and by now the whole town knew this celebrity was there and had all lined up to watch the photo session. The photographers took him near the jetty, and their subject climbed the slippery rocks while the treacherous waves crashed behind him. They thought he was very brave as he stood close to the edge; just that morning, a little boy was whisked away at nearby beach and drowned. The crowd was multiplying, and the photographers asked Paul if he wanted to get away. “No,” he said, “These are my public.” He graciously greeted the onlookers and posed for pictures with them. Daphne and Diane were so touched by his sensitivity for his fans.

Daphne and Diane headed to the woods, and Paul followed with Alfred. The photographer had a particular shot in mind, and she crammed herself into an outdoor shower. Paul laughed and said he wished he had a camera to take a picture of Daphne trying to take his picture. Daphne was feeling more comfortable and confessed to Paul that when she was growing up she fantasized that he was her father and Maude was her mother. He shook his head and grimaced, “Couldn’t you do any better than Maude?”

Then he began to open up to the two females. He explained that he was here to get away from plastic Hollywood, and he wasn’t sure about his career. He said he had given up drinking alcohol and was trying to get on the right track. He was there to do some soul searching.

Daphne and Diane had him take a seat in a wicker chair with Alfred by his side. They handed him a Cove Cooler — a non-alcoholic drink containing orange juice — to hold in the photo. Paul hesitated; he was concerned his fans would think it had liquor in it. Daphne told him not to worry. Paul said he was thrilled in his outfit and loved that his photograph was taken outdoors. He said his PR shots were so stiff and superficial. After the sun had set and over one hundred pictures had been taken, it was time to end the day. The two girls did not want it to end, and their new friend seemed to feel the same way.

“This is the best photography shoot I ever had,” he told them. “I feel like I exposed my soul.”

Paul met up with Richard later, and he told him that he was lonely and asked if he knew anyone he could introduce him to. Richard knew someone in town who really wanted to meet Paul. At the end of that week, Richard gave a party at his home for Paul. He also had a belated birthday present waiting for him. “OK Paul, turn around and see your present,” Richard said. There, standing in front of the fireplace, was a tall, handsome, sweet-faced young man wearing a white suit. He looked like a model and smiled adoringly at the guest of honor. Paul turned his nose in the air and said, “Forget it.”

“What’s wrong?” a disappointed Richard asked, “Not your type?”

Paul answered, “I like them right out of prison.” The young blonde was crushed.

Chapter 15

“You have captured me in the way I want to be remembered.”

Paul Lynde

All throughout his adult life, Paul would cringe when someone said, “Good-bye,” and he would quickly tell them, “Don’t say good-bye, just say I’ll see you soon.” He was afraid of dying before his time, and he dwelled on it. “I hate death. It took three family members away from me in three months.” Paul’s parents were gone before he ever could prove himself. “One of the biggest regrets is that my parents did not live to see my success,” he said. “They would have never believed I would have been an achiever.”

At fifty-four years old, Paul surrendered his dream of ever being honored with an Academy Award. Instead, he pursed his new venture and made a decision to buy a Brownstown in the Big Apple. His plan was to live there most of the time and keep his residence on the west coast to fly back for projects. New York was where his heart had always been. He needed to return to the place that had always made him feel alive. He wanted to open a restaurant and call it East Lynde. He said he had more energy in New York and was always on the go. That is where Kaye Ballard remembers seeing her friend the happiest, when he did
New Faces,
“It was his first taste of success.”

Paul had been sober for a while. He used the same willpower he used to stop overeating. Paul had his reasons for stopping, he just never went into details of why.

In the fall of 1980, the unemployed actor was asked to look over a script to see if he would be interested in it: he was not enthused about it. He wanted something exciting to do. Then he heard Northwestern University was making plans for a spectacular event to be televised called
The Way We Were.
Over one hundred of its famous alumni, including Cloris Leachman, Patricia Neal, Charlton Heston, Charlotte Rae, and Ann Margret, would be appearing on the show. Paul was excited and waited for official notification, but never received any. He was sure there had to be some mistake, and then he learned he was deliberately not invited. That incident at which he insulted the professor at Burger King after having a few too many drinks had soured Northwestern’s opinion of Paul. He could not believe he wasn’t going to be a part of the university’s most successful attendees. During his career he had been insulted, spit on, and almost physically attacked, but he never called the newspapers or pressed charges. He thought the entire Northwestern incident had been blown out of proportion. The hurt was significant, but he did not take a drink.

He had also lost his friendship with Kaye. Over the years, they had shared many good times together both inside and outside the industry. They supported each other as they battled their weight issues and had lost and gained many pounds together. When Kaye was starring in the
Mother-In-Laws,
she had lost weight and thought she looked good, but Paul kept telling her that she needed to lose more. He knew his weight loss had made a big difference in his career, but he could be frank, like his father was, and if he had a few drinks in he could be merciless. Kaye had experienced this firsthand too many times, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She stopped socializing with him completely, but she still cared about him.

Paul was now waking up each morning with a clear head. He told some friends he felt more alive than he had in years. He missed working, but now had time to use the pool, keep up his tan, and enjoy his elegant home. When he lost his housekeeper that year, he made a call to the agency he used and asked them to send over a new one for an interview. The agency called a man named Tim Noyle and gave him Paul’s address. Tim arrived at the star’s residence for the part-time job and rang the doorbell. Paul appeared, took one look at him, and shouted, “The space ship has just landed.” Tim was hired and was paid twenty-two dollars per hour. He received a check each week from Paul’s financial manager.

According to Tim, he thought Paul looked like he lived in a jewel box with the way it was lavishly decorated. There were five bathrooms, and one bedroom to clean, but they were always immaculate and he found there was little to do. He asked his new employer if he could take Alfred out for runs some days. Paul and Alfred both liked the idea. Tim saw how attached the dog and Paul were and often heard Paul talking to his dog from another room. Alfred would sit by his master and listen attentively.

Paul was a voracious reader and liked to watch television when he was home. As Tim went about cleaning the star’s home, he sometimes overheard his employer talking on the phone. Joan Rivers had called to ask her friend what hotel she should stay in while in New York. His recommendation was, of course, The Pierre, where he paid $675 per night for his suite.

One hot afternoon, Tim saw Paul looking out his back door at his formal garden — he was watching the group of sweaty young men that he hired as they were working. Paul opened the door and shouted, “Take off your shirts, I’ll pay more.”

The doorbell rang, and Paul was handed a large package marked: “Do Not Bend.” He carefully opened it, and when he saw the photograph, he was overwhelmed with emotion. He immediately called his new photographer, Daphne, and said, “You have captured me in the way I want to be remembered.”

Paul had that photo made into a large portrait, which he hung in his home. Paul had copies made and mailed out as Christmas greetings to his friends and relatives. That Christmas Eve, according to Tim, Paul was hosting a dinner for a handful of friends and his sister Helen. He was anxiously preparing his food and running back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, when he was interrupted by the doorbell, and he panicked. He looked at the clock and became agitated, thinking it was a guest who had arrived early, which he frowned upon. He was a wreck, and in a huff he turned on the intercom from his kitchen and yelled, “Who is-s-s-s-s it?” He was answered by voices singing: “We wish you a Merry Christmas,” it was carolers. As much as he loved Christmas music, the perfectionism would not let it interrupt his dinner preparations. Paul frantically yelled to them, “You have to come b-a-a-a-a-ck, I’m too busy.”

As the New Year rang in, Paul’s phone did not. He had given a New Year’s Eve party, even though he never liked that holiday. He thought it conjured up too many heartaches if it was a lousy year, and this year was one of the worst for him. According to Paul Baressi, he was upset about his career at a standstill. Barresi would be turning thirty-three the following week and he was planning a celebration at his home with ten friends. The day before the party, Baressi’s phone rang — it was Paul. He told him he would be coming to his party and had bought him a birthday present, from Mr. Guys, a men’s clothing store on Rodeo Drive.

Paul Barressi’s party started and ended, Paul never showed. Barresi went to bed, but he kept tossing and turning because something did not feel right. He dialed Dean Dittman, a mutual friend of both Paul’s, who had been at his party earlier. He told him they should take a ride to Paul’s house to make sure he was okay. They arrived around after two in the morning, and as they walked up the driveway on North Palm Drive, the first thing Barresi noticed was the newspaper still lying outside. The house was dark and Alfred was barking nonstop from inside. They rang the doorbell, knocked on Paul’s bedroom window, and shouted his name. When Paul did not answer, Barresi became so worried that he decided to break in through the side door. This triggered the security alarms. He and Dean stumbled through the darkness. Barresi found the master bedroom and felt around for the light switch. When the light came on, their hearts sank. Paul was lying on his bed, he was dressed in his pajamas and bathrobe. It was evident to Barresi that Paul had tried to reach for the panic button next to the bed, but never made it. Alfred was confused and terrified, but relieved somebody had come to his master.

Paul died alone so an autopsy was performed. According to the newspapers, the police records showed two bottles of butyl nitrate were found on his bed stand. One was unopened, the other nearly full. A small trace of the over-the-counter substance was found in his system, but the doctor did not believe it was enough to kill him. The coroner listed the fifty-five year old actor’s death as a heart attack. After the autoposy report came in, Paul’s doctor told Jan that her friend had the heart of an eighty-five year old man.

The police found no foul play in the actor-comedian’s death. Tim, the housekeeper, was asked to stay at Paul’s house to keep an eye on the place. He walked around the empty house. It was strange to be there with Paul gone, and not even Alfred was there to greet him. According to Tim, the master bath, which Paul never used and only reserved for guests (as he never wanted to mess it up) looked untouched. Tim felt a need to talk to someone, but felt bad that there was no significant person in Paul’s life he could call. “No close friend that he talked to every day,” he said.

There were two services held. One was at the Westwood Village Memorial Chapel, in Los Angeles, California. There friends, family, relatives, and his peers, totaling over 250, attended to pay their respects to the great artist. He was cremated, and there was another service held in Mount Vernon, where another large crowd gathered again, including some fans. It took place on a Sunday afternoon, at the church he attended as a boy: St. Paul’s. His ashes are buried at the Amity Cemetery, in Knoxville County, Ohio, alongside his parents and two brothers. Paul was born in 1926, however, his headstone mistakenly reads 1927. He relatives do not know why.

Alfred went to Paul’s niece Nancy, where the poodle lived a long, good life and had her children to play with. Helen, his sister, was so distraught over her brother’s death that she hired someone to help with all his antiques, paintings, and belongings. Paul’s nieces donated his memorabilia to the Knoxville Historical Society County Museum in Ohio, which is on display there today.

Kaye Ballard was furious with him for drinking so much and said he didn’t need to die. He knew his father had died young. She had cared very much for her friend. She thought he had such an innately funny sense of humor, however, he was unhappy and complicated. “He never believed.” According to Kaye, part of his unhappiness was that he didn’t get into the movies, and that was his heartbreak. Although Paul had done many movies and some of them did very well, he would just say, “I did eleven bad ones.”

Cloris Leachman was heartbroken at the news of the death of her very good college friend. She had been at his house not too long ago and had a wonderful time. She was amazed at his relationship with his poodle and got a kick out of the fact he had mirrored floors in his guest bathroom. “Paul was the most original brilliant man I’ve ever known,” she told columnist Shirley Edner. She did not see her friend as bitter, and she added, “He couldn’t use his excellence and that itself was kind of death.”

Richard Perkins was shocked by the news. He had just recently made plans with Paul to come out to his home for a visit. Richard would be bringing a friend who wanted to meet Eve Arden. When Richard mentioned this to Paul, he said Eve was his neighbor, and he would have a dinner party and make sure she was there.

Meredith Asher, Bill’s wife, remembered how Bill adored Paul. She occasionally still runs into Jack Jones, singer of
The Love Boat
show’s theme song and Grammy award winner. He still brings up to her that one of the funniest nights, and the most laughs he ever had, had been with Paul and Bill. Meredith has a picture of Paul “drunk as a skunk,” where he fell on top of Bill and they were both laughing.

Reginald Adams had the flu when he heard of his good friend’s passing, and the stress of the news made him sicker. He thought about the alarm on Paul’s nightstand that was installed while he was working on his home — it was so close to his bed where he was found.

Paul Barresi slowly unwrapped the silver paper that covered his birthday gift. It was a blue cashmere pullover sweater, from Mr. Guys, that Paul had picked out for him.

Charlotte Rae was filming an episode of
The Facts of Life
when she heard the news. She and several of Paul’s closest friends gathered at Alice Ghostley’s home after the funeral. To this day, she says she will never forget those skits she did with Paul during their four years at college together when they were known as Lubotsky and Lynde, or his naughty wit. “There will never be anyone as brilliant or as incredibly talent as Paul was,” Charlotte said.

His peers, friends, and so many felt the same way. Dick Van Dyke once said, “Paul was one of the five most inherently funny guys in the country.”

“He never had a clue what a big star he was,” Peter Marshall said. He had recently bumped into Paul at the airport, and he thought Paul looked great, and they had a pleasant conversation.
The Hollywood Squares
family felt deep sadness. Rose Marie lost her buddy.

Jan heard the news in her car on the radio: she lost her best friend. She keeps his Emmy Award at her home on her mantel, and she treasures the box full of letters he wrote to her. So many people who had worked with Paul in the business felt the loss of a great artist, along with millions of fans.

According to archivist Kevin B. Leonard, Northwestern University is hoping to collect Paul’s papers: his business and professional records, scrapbooks, photographs, and clippings.

Long before all of this, a little boy from Ohio found a gift within himself and he was generous enough to use it. He made us laugh until our sides ached. On January 10, 1982, the world lost the most original comedian and actor there ever was, or ever will be…And, as Paul would say,
“That’s
disg-u-u-u-sting.”