MY FRIEND CECIL
by
Jan Alan Henderson
It could be said that Cecil Elliott
knew me before I was born. She and my mother were friends from
at least the early 40s, or maybe the late 30s. It's my understanding
that they met through a play Cecil was appearing in, in my mother's
home town of Detroit, Michigan.
Cecil's husband "Chop" (I still
don't know his first name!) Sinex was a World War II hero, having
had two destroyers blasted out from under him, and living to
tell the tale. As I recall, he had the same or a similar heart
condition to the one Eddie Mannix had. I remember him chopping
(pun intended) trees at their home and rental properties in West
Hollywood one day, and bedridden the next. This is a chronic
condition.
Their triplex in West Hollywood was
a veritable jungle land kiddie paradise with ferns, and bamboo
all grown to about ten feet, obscuring the sunlight. I spent
many hours getting lost in my imaginary tropical adventures,
hearing through Cecil's open windows her infectious laugh from
"The Evil Three." When I was very young and rummaging
around Cecil's jungle I hadn't yet seen "The Evil Three."
I had always been a little intimidated by Cecil and Chop because
they were, shall we say, slightly eccentric.
Cecil had been in a couple Hollywood
pictures in the 30s, and had been invited with a group to W.C.
Fields' house on Franklin Avenue for an afternoon soiree. Upon
their arrival at Chez Fields, the Great One offered a round of
libations and was informed that the group were teetotalers, except
Cecil. Fields asked all of the rest of the group to leave, and
Cecil was regaled by Fields stories, and imbibed in W.C.'s private
stock for the entire afternoon.
Cecil and Chop's house was small but
homey, and she was always cooking up a big batch of delectable
goodies for friends and family. The living room was the social
center, with the kitchen (which was paneled in dark wood) off
to the left and the bedroom over to the right. When Chop wasn't
feeling well, he would greet visitors from the dark, exotically
decorated bedroom.
One hot afternoon in the mid 50s, my
mother took me over to Cecil and Chop's for what she called a
surprise. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what possible
surprise would be waiting at Cecil's abode. Besides, she had
the habit of consuming an entire vanilla sugar cake a day, and
at least a pack of Pall Mall non-filter cigarettes. While I might
get a piece of cake, I couldn't see my mother letting me indulge
in nicotine at this tender age. I was baffled!
We took the red car (Los Angeles's original
mass transportation cable car system) over to Cecil's, and the
adults were quickly engrossed in conversation while I sat in
front of the television. I asked to turn on the TV, and was granted
permission. Channel surfing on the oversized set, I happened
on a Captain Midnight rerun. Ironically, the episode was a jungle
show, and Cecil's house was the perfect setting. When the show
was over, the television screen was filled with the usual car
commercials and whatnot. Cecil, checking her watch, walked over
to the set and changed the channel. The Superman theme music
blasted into the living room like a lion out of Cecil's backyard
tropical paradise. "Faster than a...", "More powerful
than a ...", "Able to leap tall...." and so on.
The title card read "The Evil Three," an episode I
had never seen before.
When I was a kid, we weren't allowed
to sit in front of the TV and watch all day like folks do in
this day and age. You were lucky if you got to see two or three
of your favorite shows a month. There were no VCRs or DVD recorders,
and "The Evil Three" was a show I had yet to see. To
my utter surprise, there on the TV screen was Cecil in a wheelchair,
cackling like a madwoman, and the real Cecil was cackling her
brains out watching her performance, in her easy chair in her
West Hollywood home.
My mind was blown. I actually knew someone
who was in The Adventures of Superman! Wow! Wail 'till I tell
all the kids at school! I asked Cecil in my fumbling way what
it was like to work with George Reeves, and much to my horror,
she told me she didn't have any contact with George. "How
could that be?" I asked. "We just saw you being carried
out of the Bayou Hotel." Cecil explained when she was carried
out in front of George, John, and Jack, she was too busy delivering
her lines to notice who was there. And that it was in the can
in one take. She mentioned that she still had her "Evil
Three" script around somewhere, and when she found it, she
would give it to me. If I wasn't flying that day, I don't know
who was!
Weeks went by, and Cecil still couldn't
locate the script. Weeks spilled into months, and months into
years, and I got involved in other things like Rock 'n Roll,
acting, and girls, - and oh yeah, school.
One day years later, I was at Cecil's
helping her clean her attic. By that time George was long dead,
and Cecil's beloved Chop had passed on to the great beyond. By
that time, Cecil was taking in boarders, mostly actors. Pat Cranshaw
was one such gentleman who roomed on Cecil's living room divan.
He's the bank teller Warren Beatty tries to rob (whose bank had
failed three weeks before) in Bonnie and Clyde.
The attic was like an archeological dig - old tax returns, bills
of every type, phone books, shoe boxes, hair dryers, mouse traps,
and a pile of vintage 50s TV Guides. But no "Evil Three"
script.
There were tons of Christmas tree ornaments,
as that was Cecil's favorite holiday. Cecil loved Christmas so
much that she had to always have a natural tree, which she kept
up and decorated until July. My mother and Cecil's daughter were
constantly on her about the fire hazard, but it was the Fire
Department who finally put an end to a decades-old tradition.
One June, the fire engine was driving by, when they spotted the
lonely twig in the front room window of Cecil's house, resplendent
with decorations and lights, which were on day and night. They
inquired as to the age of the tree, and cited her. She was livid!
She tried moving the tree a couple of years, but the Fire Department
would always check up on her. Finally, she switched to an artificial
tree.
In the early 70s, Cecil began to lose
her eyesight. She never drove, so I became one of her friends
who drove her to auditions and shoots. Now, she had roles in
motion pictures as far back as 1934 (Secret of the Chateau Universal
1934) and was also featured in such films as The Killing (1956),
Rebel Set (1959 with my friend, Gregg Palmer), The Three Stooges
Meet Hercules (1962), and the classic noir Chinatown (1974).
Needless to say, I had some adventurous times driving Cecil.
I remember driving on to the Universal
lot in the predawn hours with Cecil in full hair and makeup,
and having coffee as the sun rose on the New York street set
used in The Sting; being in Hancock Park (a suburb of Los Angeles)
shooting a telephone company ad; Cecil taking a fall in front
of Dino De Laurentiis' office, which was completely glass windows,
wondering if anyone saw her pratfall (which I did my best to
cover up while everyone in the office looked on in horror). Through
the laughter and the tears, Cecil and I were always the best
of friends, and as she grew older she remained young in spirit.
One day around 1976, my mother asked
me if I had heard of a collector from New York who had been calling
Cecil, proclaiming to be her Number One fan. I hadn't, but I
was informed that this fan was promised an "Evil Three"
script. Was this my promised script? Well, to make a long story
short, it turned out that Cecil had two "Evil Three"
scripts, one that was hers, and one that she had borrowed from
John Hamilton. So her Number One fan got a personally signed
John Hamilton script, and I got her original signed to me as
well! Her Number One fan moved to Los Angeles and we became fast
friends, discussing and enjoying Superman reruns and trivia for
many years.
Time has a nasty habit of passing faster
than the brain can comprehend. The running commentary about Cecil's
health between my mother and myself in her later years was, "She
asked the doctor to give her a shot to make her feel sixteen
again." This actually worked for a few years, but sadly
in the spring of 1982, Cecil left this planet
Cecil's funeral was at the Hollywood Memorial
Cemetery in Hollywood, where she is to this day. She was a great
friend and mentor to me, as she gave me a glimpse into show business
without the harmful side effects.
As we left the chapel, Somewhere Over
the Rainbow was playing. This was her request, and it was a beautiful
California day with birds singing and a healthy amount of smog
- a fitting tribute to a grand lady of theater.
Postscript:
Eighteen months later, my mother passed away. After leaving the
hospital, my wife and I adjourned to the family home, accompanied
by a family friend, and someone turned on the television. Suddenly
we hear a familiar laugh. It's Cecil as Elsa, and it's "The
Evil Three." A moment frozen in time! A message in a bottle!
That moment hearkens me to my phone conversations with Jack Larson.
When he signs off he always says, "Onward and upward."
Well, if we look onward and upward, we may just find a ray of
hope. Cecil gave me, and everyone she touched, a ray of hope.
We move forward by coming from. |
