FEAST OF TABERNACLES 2013
"WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW IS LOVE SWEET LOVE"
(words from an old song)
MARILYN IN ENGLAND.....for "The Prince and the Showgirl"
From the book "Marilyn Monroe - Private and Confidential"
There was indeed a lot for her to do, and one of those things was meeting a young man called Alan who was chosen to work at Parkside House as Marilyn's rehearsal pianist: 'Iwas a music student and used to work during vacations. My agent provided temps for the theatre and I had done a couple of jobs for him, but one day he rang me up to tell me about an interesting job, that I'd be a nitwit to turn down.' Apparently Marilyn wanted a pianist for singing practice and as she was limited on the amount of non-British people she could use, she had asked her New York agent, who rang someone in London to find a personal pianist for her.
'I was summoned to Parkside and told, "Mrs Monroe-Miller will see you now." It was like being sent to see the Headmaster and I was rather apprehensive and more than a bit nervous. I had met actresses before and knew they could be fearsome, so what on earth would such a great Hollywood star be like? I need not have worried. Marilyn was sitting on the sofa with her legs tucked up under her. As I went in she gave me that wonderful smile, uncoiled gracefully and came towards me. She put out her hand, took mine and said softly, "Hi, I'm- Marilynl" Her manner was so sweetly shy and modest that I felt instantly, at ease. She was such a pleasant and thoroughly nice lady.'.......
MARILYN GETS FLOWERS.... AND GIVES BACK APPRECIATION
.......'The envelope just had "Miss M. Monroe" written on it. I remember we had to jump over the gates (about four to five foot high), as they were locked., and walked up to the house. Upon reaching the house we rang the bell, the door was opened by a maid and I said, "Would you give this letter to Marilyn please?" She then shut the door, and we waited.
'Shortly after the door opened again, and we were confronted by Arthur Miller. He enquired as to how we got in, and who the letter was from. I answered that we had jumped over the gates and that a man had given us the letter. He then told us to go back the way we had come. His actual wording I cannot remember, but it was loud, abrasive and in words that I had heard adults use before.
'We hastily retreated down the drive, and I do recall being photographed as we hurdled the white gates. The reporters then took details of what had happened and gave us half a crown each..As far as I am aware, a short report of the incident appeared in a national paper.'
Another fan with a delivery for Marilyn was fifteen-year-old Michael Thornton, who went on to become a highly successful author and critic. Michael was staying with friends during the summer holidays when he heard that Marilyn had arrived. After some initial research he discovered her address and set off on his bike, complete with some hand-picked roses strapped to the handlebars: 'On arrival in the tiny village of Englefield Green, my breathless enquiries to highly suspicious locals - already alienated by the descent of countless Fleet Street reporters elicited the information that Parkside House was in Wick Lane, which I eventually found. The house was white, with tall white windows and white chimneys, extremely attractive and very secluded, with a long drive through trees and hedges. I parked my bike opposite the main entrance, undid the rapidly wilting roses, and waited ... and waited ... and waited.
'In all, I think I must have been there for several hours, until finally a large black car drove up and turned into the drive. Inside I saw two men in the front (one the driver), and another man and two ladies in the back, one wearing a headscarf and large dark glasses. I later learned that next to the driver was a plain-clothes detective, that the man in the back was Arthur Miller, and the second woman - rather plain, round-faced and dumpy -was Paula Strasberg. The figure in the headscarf and dark glasses was Marilyn.
'I moved up the drive, into a position where they could all see me standing with my bunch of wilting roses. The policeman detective came towards me, waving his hands, and said, "This is private property. You cannot come into the drive." At that moment, the lady in the headscarf and dark glasses divested herself of both and became instantly recognizable as the devastating siren I had only lately seen in The Seven Year Itch. In her unmistakably breathy voice, she called: "Hey, don't send him away."
'She came trotting forward in a rather tight dress and white high heels, moved around the police officer and said: "Hello, honey, are you waiting to see me?" (in a tone that suggested that was the most unlikely thing in the world). I was conscious of blushing, and stammered nervously: "Miss Monroe, I just wanted to say, 'Welcome to England, and to give you these," and I handed her the wilting roses.
'The expression on her face and in her eyes was as if I had handed her something priceless from Cartier. "Oh sweetheart, that is so lovely of you." I noticed that her blonde hair was rather dishevelled - possibly the result of wearing a wig - and that her face and eyes had traces of screen make-up that had not been entirely removed. There was nothing grand or standoffish about her. One might have thought she had never been given flowers before in her life, and her simplicity of manner certainly did not suggest that this was the most famous woman in the world.
'Behind her I saw her stern-faced husband, in heavy hornrimmed glasses, glowering and frowning at this encounter. He then called out to her in a very autocratic voice: "Will you come into the house now please?" "How old are you honey?" she asked. "I'm fifteen' I said. "Fifteen? And you went to all this trouble to bring me these? I'm going to go and put them in water right away. Thank you, my darling."
'She turned towards the detective, then turned back, and to my amazement, she planted a very gentle kiss full on my lips - the sort of innocent kiss a child might give. "Bye bye honey," she called as she walked away, leaving me in a state of surreal disbelief.
'The detective said: "Don't go telling your schoolfriends where the house is, will you?" I promised I wouldn't.'.....
WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS IS MORE DOWN-TO-EARTH FRIENDLY LOVE GIVING AS MARILYN OFTEN GAVE OUT TO PEOPLE AND ANIMALS.
JUST THINK WHAT THE WORLD WOULD BE LIKE IF PEOPLE GAVE OUT LOVE AS MARILYN GAVE IT OUT.
THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES PICTURES SUCH AN AGE TO COME. PEOPLE WILL APPRECIATE OTHERS, BE THANKFUL TO OTHERS, BE LOVING TOWARDS OTHERS, BE GIVING TOWARDS OTHERS.
OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL AGE THAT WILL BE!
THANKS MARILYN FOR SHOWING US WHAT TRUE APPRECIATION IS ALL ABOUT.
THANKS MARILYN FOR SHOWING US WHAT TRUE APPRECIATION IS ALL ABOUT.