Everything about the life of screen legend Lana Turner has been the subject of scrutiny, fable, infamy, gossip, half-truths, and the dreams of others that would love to be her. As Lana Turner's former personal manager and intimate confidant for ten years (1969 - 1979), I have offered the webmaster of the Diva Site a re-write of his background material on the lady we all love, and the one I had the pleasure of spending a decade with nearly twenty-four-seven. I worked with her, traveled with her, partied with her, and I loved her.

Let's begin with her birth date. She was born the only child of Virgil and Mildred Turner in Wallace, Idaho, on February 8, 1921. She was named Julia Jean Mildred Frances Turner and, thankfully, grew up as "Judy" Turner until the name was changed sixteen years later.

Her birth date was recorded in "Who's Who" decades ago as 1920, and that was an annoyance to Lana all her life. As she said, "If I was going to lie about my age, it wouldn't be by ONE year!" And, when she saw her age in print in being one year older than she actually was, she'd say "Don’t push me -- I'll get there soon enough." That's an example of Lana's innate sense of humor. God gave her the ability to see the funny side of everything. For the record, she said she had attorneys and many lawyers try to correct it, but 'Who's Who' wouldn’t budge on the issue

Lana never publicized her impoverished childhood, but we spoke of it many times in our quiet times alone. She told me her stories, and I told her mine.

She adored Virgil and delighted in watching him whirling her mother around the living room of the many places they called home. Virgil was a good looking, tall, lean, ne'er-do-well who had a fondness for gambling, which proved to be his undoing. Little Julia Jean thrilled at 'dancing' with her father by standing on the tops of his shoes as he whirled his precious daughter around the room as well.

I once asked Lana if the graceful movement of her hands was taught by MGM and was surprised at her answer. "No" she said "We were too poor for me to have toys, so my mother and I would play 'pretty hands' in front of a lamp, and that's been with me all my life."

Virgil Turner was playing craps the night of December 15, 1930 in a place across the alley from the San Francisco Chronicle Building. Mildred was separated from him at the time and living in Richmond, with Judy. Virgil was the big winner of the night, and took off his left shoe to place his winnings inside while all the losers watched. The last known words he said were "Now I can buy my little girl a bicycle for Christmas".

He was found later, bludgeoned to death in the alleyway, his left shoe removed, and empty. His murder is an unsolved mystery to this day.

Because of their separation, Mildred was forced to take a job in a beauty parlor and put Judy in foster homes. As an adult 'Judy' still remembered the harsh treatment inflicted on her. She told me about having to eat her food kneeling under the dining room table while the family enjoyed theirs sitting in proper chairs. Lana said to me on more than one occasion, "Marilyn used her childhood for sympathy. I kept my mouth shut about mine."

A widow now, and suffering from Bronchitis, a doctor advised Mildred Turner that the dry, balmy weather of Southern California would be better for her frail health and a good place to live. As it happened, Mildred had a long time friend, Gladys, who lived in Hollywood, in a white stucco duplex near The Hollywood Bowl. Gladys was delighted to have both Mildred and Judy move in with her until things settled down.

Judy was then sixteen years old, very shy and very much her mother's child, totally unaware of her natural beauty. She had a fully developed, perfect figure, and porcelain complexion (which she maintained throughout her life by herself, with no special creams or lotions. She used a product that still costs about a dollar today and never, in the ten years I was with her, visited a dermatologist).

I speak of how astonished I was at her stunning complexion during our first meeting in my out-of-print book, "Always, Lana". She never wore foundation or makeup unless filming or attending a gala function. All she used was eyebrow pencil, a little mascara, and lipstick. She wore that to many Hollywood parties I attended with her and drew vicious, hateful stares from the leading ladies of the day.

I was always amused when Lana made an entrance to any occasion. At five-foot-three-and-a-half-inches, she was very petite, but perfectly proportioned. Even major photographers often remarked that there was not one digit of her body that was not in ideal proportion to the rest of her. She was truly one of the most remarkably beautiful creatures that God ever allowed walking his earth.

At the age of sixteen Judy's natural hair color was a rich auburn and her eyes were sparkling Hazel. If she wore blue, her eyes turned blue. If she wore green, her eyes were like emeralds and sparkling -- always sparkling -- as if she knew something no one else did. She also had a perfect smile and teeth. Cosmetic surgery was unknown in the 1930's.

She was a flirt to be sure, later in life, but not the man-hungry sexual predator the press insinuated she was. The act of sexual intercourse was less important to her than the conquest of a handsome, somewhat available man. I have seen her drive men crazy with desire over her only to have her bedroom door shut ever-so-gently in their faces. Like all legendary flirts, she'd giggle and laugh like a schoolgirl after her conquest had gone in search of something else to ease his pain.

The 'real' Lana Turner was a romantic to the bone and that was her undoing. We are both born under the sign of Aquarius, she on February 8th, and myself on February 9th, 1940. Being born one day apart, we surmised, explained why we could spend so much time together and not become bored (although I confess to wanting to 'go out and play' many times while she chose to stay home).

It is true that Judy Turner was discovered at The Top Hat Malt Shop, just across the street from Hollywood High School where she had been enrolled for about three months. She skipped a typing class and had a nickel, which would buy a Coke in those days. The counter setup was the old U-shaped, so the counterman could work both sides and there was only one other patron in the place when Judy came in and slid onto a stool. She did not know that the man across from her was the owner of the very important trade paper, The Hollywood Reporter. Billy Wilkerson was his name and he was astonished with Judy's stunning natural beauty. He asked the counterman who she was, and was told "She's the new girl. Her name is Judy Turner". "Tell her I'd like to talk with her," said Wilkerson. Judy's eyes were cast down as she drank her coke and replied "I don't think so" to the counterman's message delivery. "I know who this man is", the counterman replied, "and I can vouch for him". "Well, if you say so" Judy replied "but you stand right there and don't leave me for one second." Wilkerson came around the counter, sat down beside her, and uttered the famous words, "How would you like to be in the movies?" Judy replied "I don't know. I'll have to ask my mother." Wilkerson gave Judy his business card and said, "Have your mother call me."

It took two days for Judy to summon the courage to tell her mother she had spoken to a stranger and showed his business card. Mildred knew nothing about Hollywood, so showed it to Gladys who exclaimed "Billy Wilkerson! He's one of the most important people in Hollywood! Call him, Mildred, right this minute!"

Judy never 'pounded the pavement' looking for work, nor did she have aspirations of being an actress. She had dreams of becoming a dress designer (and it shows, in all of her movies). Wilkerson introduced Judy to a series of agents: Henry Wilson, Zeppo Marx, and Solly Biano. It was Solly Biano who knew that the esteemed director, Mervyn LeRoy, had been interviewing every starlet in Hollywood for the pivotal role of a small town white girl in the South who gets raped and murdered in the first part of the picture. The movie was being made from the best selling book, "Murder in the Deep South". Mr. LeRoy was looking for an innocent, virginal, unsullied girl (which Judy was) and Solly Biano called him and said "Mervyn, I've got just the girl you're looking for. I'm sending her right over." Two hours later, Mr. LeRoy's secretary buzzed his office and said, "There's a Miss Turner here to see you." "Send her in" Mervyn replied, hardly looking up from his desk.

According to LeRoy's own book, the office door opened and there was a young girl of sixteen standing there, visibly shaking, wearing a well-worn cheap dress, with her hair looking as if it had never seen a comb. She could barely speak above a whisper, but Mr. LeRoy knew she was exactly what he was looking for.

The movie was "They Won't Forget" and proved to be a premonition of things to come. LeRoy eventually met with Mildred and Judy together and put Judy under 'personal' contract so that he could guide her career and keep her from becoming just another piece of flesh in the Hollywood mill. His movie was made at Warner Brothers and people flocked to the box office to see this isotope of femininity walk down the street wearing a sweater and small beret.

When MGM lured Mervyn LeRoy over to their ultra-glamorous studio, he brought the newly named Lana Turner with him. LeRoy changed her first name to "Lana" because she reminded him of a girl he once dated named 'Donna'. Lana later in life claimed that she invented the name herself, but she often changed little things like that in her mind to suit herself. If Lana Turner said it, it must be true. You wouldn't believe some of the whoppers I invented for her as her personal manager -- with her laughing approval.

I want to touch on the rumors that Lana was a heavy drinker. She could be, at times, but she was neither an alcoholic nor a drunk. It took me a few months to realize that the Lana Turner on screen had memorized pre-written dialogue and could repeat it, word-for-word in no more than two takes. She was known in the industry as "Two Take Turner". When it came to her day-to-day speech, however, it was different, as if her mind was going faster than she could speak. She therefore spoke with lots of pauses and changes from one idea to another. I realized that, in restaurants particularly, people would see Lana with her cocktail on the table, and hear her somewhat rambling speech, and conclude that she was drunk -- which she was not! When at home, she would fix a drink and sip it for five or more hours. Sometimes she'd have Carmen, her maid, throw the old ones out and I'd fix her a new one, which sat for hours as well. When it came time to go out in public and become the larger-than-life idol known as Lana Tuner, however, it took many hours of screwing up her inner fortitude, fortified with several vodka and tonics before she was ready to face the crowds. "I don't care if they 'look'" she'd say "but they can never seem to get close enough. It's as if they want to count my pores!" Imagine being hailed as one of the most beautiful people in the world and turning fifty while ordinary people expect you to look like you did when you were twenty or thirty. As Phyllis Diller says in her routine, "I wake up in the morning looking like Bernard Barruch and go to bed looking like Doris Day --- that's a hell of a lot of booze."

I have to insert this true story about Betty Grable, who, later in life did 'live' theater in the round. One day, onstage, she heard one old biddy say to another "Well, she certainly doesn't look like she did twenty years ago". Miss Grable turned to the two women, put her hands on her hips, and loudly said, "Madame -- who the fuck DOES?"

I'm drawing to a close now, because the statistics of Lana Turner's career are everywhere. I want you to know the lovely, funny, often exasperating, complex, defining ideal of the words, 'glamorous', and 'Movie Star'. As with Bette Davis, Rita Hayworth, and others of that era, there will never be another -- and Lana was the last.

If you enjoyed reading this, please let me know.
Humbly yours, Taylor Pero, author of the book Always, Lana

 

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