Good Morning: A 50-year tradition

It's a GOOD MORNING for yours truly as I start the next 50 years writing the column. Did I ever tell you howcum I start each column with "GOOD MORNING"? I'll take you back with me to the early 1950s, when I was a leg man for columnist Harrison Carroll at the old Herald-Express. One week, I was in Las Vegas covering the showbiz action at the then five hotels, each one boasting a major star. At the Sands it was Danny Thomas. He would kill audiences with hysterically funny stories -- but he would also get serious to an enraptured house. F'rinstance, he said, "Every day you pick up your newspaper and the front page tells of a massacre in Africa, a hurricane in Hawaii, an explosion in Pittsburgh, a forest fire in Canada -- why can't you pick up the paper and find a headline saying, 'GOOD MORNING'?" … I went backstage to interview the seasoned performer Thomas. I brashly told him, "When I get my OWN column, I'll start it with 'GOOD MORNING.' " Of course, I neglected to tell him I might also start some columns with "It's NOT a GOOD MORNING" -- like Sept. 12, 2001 … And talking about being a leg man, in 1970, the Publicists Guild gave me their Press Award. Richard Burton made the presentation to me and in his remarks about my journalistic history, the gallant Burton said, "I didn't know what a 'leg man' was -- until I met his wife, Selma." Through the years, Richard afforded me many opportunities to write about him -- and, of course, Elizabeth Taylor. We had many laughs -- and eventually tears when I was asked to deliver his eulogy. It was not easy. Nor was I ready to put on a brave face when my friend producer Arthur P. Jacobs died. We, too, had so many laughs together -- like when he had me play an ape in full makeup in the original "Planet of the Apes." I got a great column out of it ... When Arthur died, we gathered at his house and it was decided that I write the eulogy and Roddy McDowall, his "Apes" co-star, would deliver it the next morning. In the middle of the night, Roddy phoned -- he was too overcome to do the eulogy. I replaced him -- with great difficulty. It was equally painful years later when I would have to acknowledge that Roddy was incurably ill and near death … I have written with a heavy heart on several other occasions -- when Henry Mancini called to ask me to let the well-wishers know that he, too, was fighting a losing battle. And recently when I was phoned and told that a life-support system would be removed from Robert Urich in a few hours … As Gilbert and Sullivan once wrote, "A policeman's lot is not a happy one."

DID I EVER TELL YOU about an interview I did as I knelt at the foot of the wheelchair of Lionel Barrymore? Or when I stooped down to interview a very young Macaulay Culkin or Dakota Fanning, or to "interview" Benji, Lassie or Won Ton Ton, "the Dog Who Saved Hollywood"? Or lying down to interview Madonna or Ava? Or how I chased a bike-riding Bing Crosby across the Paramount lot to get a quote or two. Or a last talk with Bogie when he knew his cancer was terminal. Or the joy to be on (below) the set with Jim Henson and his Muppets, or with Steven Spielberg on his great sets like "Jaws" or "Jurassic Park." Or with Francis Ford Coppola on his "Godfather" sets in Hollywood and in Rome -- believe me, it's more fun in Rome. Or the excitement I reported when standing on the same platform with a just-nominated presidential candidate John F. Kennedy -- and later writing Hollywood's reaction on the day he was assassinated. Or the fun of getting a story in the strangest way -- like sitting in a beauty shop in Beverly Hills and watching Jon Peters cut Selma's hair -- and learning that Peters was dating Barbra Streisand and had taken her to Disneyland. I remember the set of "Some Like It Hot" on the beach at the Del Coronado hotel, where Billy Wilder, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis and I waited in the broiling sun for Marilyn Monroe to show up … One unbelievable June week in 1958, I started out in London at the royal premiere of "The Key" with Bill Holden, next visited the London set of "Inn of the Sixth Happiness" with an unhappy Ingrid Bergman, who had been banished from Hollywood. Her sins don't seem so bad today, do they? The next day I was in Paris, meeting Darryl Zanuck and his "Roots of Heaven" company, back from Africa with John Huston and the swashbuckling Errol Flynn -- although by this time Flynn's buckle had lost its swash. And across the street in the Studios de Boulogne, I interviewed Brigitte Bardot. I told her my mother was French. She said, "Really? So was mine!" The next day I was off to Rome, where I stood in the center of the giant, 18-acre circus maximus built for "Ben Hur." Thanks to the great Yakima Canutt, I was placed at the far turn of the arena and, armed with my 8mm camera, I captured the race as Charlton Heston and Stephen Boyd raced by, smothering me in a cloud of dirt. A week later, I showed my footage to MGM executives in Culver City with my little projector. It was the first footage the studio had seen of the movie that was to become its blockbuster Oscar winner … I was the first newsman -- of any color -- to visit with Spike Lee on the set of "Malcolm X." I asked him about anti-Semitism and he asked me about Stepin Fetchit. Stay tuned … I love starting the Oscar ceremonies by announcing, "GOOD EVENING, MOVIE FANS!" and I continue to love starting our day together with GOOD MORNING.