Joan Crawford Wrote it Her “Way”

 

"My Way of Life" feels more like a longing look back at Joan Crawford's
short-lived "happy ending" with Pepsi mogul Alfred Steele.

Joan Crawford, at a book signing for her lifestyle tome, "My Way of Life."

When Joan Crawford's lifestyle tome My Way of Life was published 50 years ago, October 8, 1971, the book’s best sales came from life-long Crawford fans.

In the past, partaking of Joan's edicts from everything to dress, manners, entertaining, public behavior, etc. made me think of her book as My Way or the Highway of Life.

As someone who is now 62, I recently found myself re-reading this book in a far more empathetic way, despite its pretensions and self-delusions. As I read between the lines, I recalled Joan’s ‘70s public outings. After ’71, Crawford acted just once more, in a TV episode of The Sixth Sense. Her tireless Pepsi promotions had slowed down and Joan was retired without notice on her “official” 65^th birthday, March 23, 1973. Joan even downsized her living situation once more, to her final and smallest apartment. Even talk show appearances dwindled. Unhappy about her physical appearance at an event for a publicist/friend in the fall of ‘74, Crawford pulled the plug on public appearances. By the end of ’76 Joan was quite ill. And on May 10, 1977, Joan Crawford passed away.

Joan Crawford was proud of her hard-earned Brentwood mansion, which she owned for nearly three decades, before making NYC her permanent home.

I wondered to myself while reading My Way of Life: Was Joan Crawford unconsciously writing her own obituary through rose-colored glasses? Looking at it from that point of view, I was suddenly overwhelmed with sympathy for the strong-willed star. It made me think of my own mortality, as I am just a few years younger than Joan was at the time, and have faced similar difficult life decisions.

As for my take on My Way of Life as a book, it’s a pity this lifestyle piece wasn't published at the height of Joan's marriage to Pepsi mogul Alfred Steele. It would have sold far better and been in step with the Mad Men era. The lowdown on Life: let the man have the career that counts while the woman maintains all at the home front, including entertaining his co-workers and clients, raise the children, and still be fresh and frisky at bedtime. And if you have a career on the side, like Joan, more power to you. But remember, HE comes FIRST.

As for Joan's "way of life" as written, her tips for multi-tasking and perfection
are easy to believe. But Crawford's culinary feats feel like very tall tales.

The tips on the perfect life for the modern wife were beyond passé by the early '70s. I don't think the Cosmo and Ms. generation of young wives were looking for ways to cut corners so they could surprise their hard-working business men with caviar! Stephen Sondheim, inspired by Joan to write the diva ditty “I’m Still Here,” wrote another classic tune. This one targeted Crawford’s Life audience: “The Ladies Who Lunch.” Frankly, they would have rather had another vodka stinger than ask how their man’s day was.

Alfred Steele and Joan Crawford on their wedding day, May 10th, 1955.
Ironically, Joan died that same day in 1977.

Some folks felt that Joan was tooting her own horn, letting Hollywood, Pepsi, and the world know that she was still here, and very BUSY, bless you. It all started with Al Steele’s sudden death in 1959, just days before his 59^th birthday. When I read about Joan's downsizing from her glory years, it reminded me of my own life. Crawford lived several decades in her hard-earned Brentwood mansion. I didn’t live in a mansion, but I did grow up poor, like young Joan. When Joan met Al, they instantly married and became a publicized super couple. They renovated a massive apartment on Fifth Avenue to modern perfection. This marriage and merger was supposed to be Joan’s happy ending, but Steele barely resided in it before he died of a heart attack. Joan lived there until 1967, until she reluctantly moved to Imperial House, a prestigious, but less deluxe apartment building. She downsized one more time, after Life was published, to an apartment at Imperial House half the size of her prior one, where she lived the last four years of her life.

Here was my hard-working businessman. Unlike our pets, I took a tip from Joan
and let Jigger relax when he got home!

My late partner, Jigger, an oil businessman, also suddenly died of a heart attack at home. He was just 46, and I was 35. Also dynamic and driven, living a businessman’s hard life, Jigger was most generous and left me our lovely Traverse City, MI home. Like Joan, I loved our life at that home and also lived in our modern house 10 more years. However, the main floor was 2,000 square feet and the downstairs nearly the same, with four courtyards and a yard. By the end, I had felt like a caretaker to a home and memory. I moved down the street of this fab fifties neighborhood to a house half the size. Along the way, I also got rid of about half of our possessions. After about five years, restless, I moved out west and rented out the small house. And I sold nearly all of my belongings. When I moved back, I sold the Traverse City house and moved back home to Upper MI. I bought a 1,100 foot stone cottage on Indian River. In the current crazy market, I am about to sell it at a great profit. Still another dream over, and I’m feeling bittersweet selling. I will wait out the real estate boom before buying my “forever” home. In Life, Joan Crawford said that she would like to move one more time, to the country, away from the smog and noise. This may have been a daydream on her part, but I still found it touching. Instead, she downsized to her final, five-room apartment. This all resonated deeply with me.

Here was my "dream house" with my late partner, on Traverse City's Boughey Hill,
 much like the Fifth Avenue apartment was for Joan with Alfred Steele.

Later, I downsized down the street, to 1621 East Lane, in Traverse City, MI

There's two ways of looking at downsizing. One is letting go, keeping only what you need, and moving forward. It can be liberating. Still, people can feel diminished by having to live smaller and sell belongings, out of necessity. Especially if their lifestyle was a big part of whom they are. I think Joan may have felt that way, when she had to leave the palatial apartment she shared with Al Steele. Designer Carleton Varney, who oversaw both of Crawford’s Imperial House moves, remembered that he and Christina had to help steady Joan after she fainted, while attempting to visit the new apartment the first time. I can tell you that when I held my estate sale before moving west, I also swooned, seeing some of my most beloved possessions that I inherited from Jigger fly right out the door.

As a Michigander, who remembers Detroit gossip columnist Shirley Eder?
Usually, Eder played softball with her "shirlebrities," but occasionally threw a curve!

 Crawford’s book editor, Michael Korda, later wrote about his time with Joan. He grew up in the filmmaking Korda family. Some of Korda’s comments go glibly against Joan, but he's mostly on target, saying Joan wrote My Way of Life as how she wished to see her life, as opposed to how it really was. He also noted that, despite her proclamations of living for tomorrow, Joan Crawford seemed stuck in the past. A then-young Carl Johnes, who later wrote of his friendship with Joan, said that despite token efforts to keep up, Crawford railed against current mores: jeans as casual wear; men in suit jackets instead of dinner jackets for nights on the town; and demanding limos for dinner and business meetings.

Although Joan Crawford performed tirelessly on behalf of the "Pepsi Generation,"
 she often seemed out of step with the times, for several generations.

I'm sure other old-school stars felt the same way, but were smart enough to keep quiet, to appear current. Crawford's caustic comments about the “younger” generation go back to the '50s! Imagine what Joan would think of today's celebrity culture and youth. But Joan had enough collective goodwill from the older generation to stay on the general public's good side, much like when John Wayne, when he started sharing his political views.

Joan would have been ideal for any number of '60s & '70s TV appearances. 

If you look at Joan’s filmography, it drops drastically after Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte. I've wondered, why didn’t Joan guest star on The Big Valley with her old pal Barbara Stanwyck? Why didn’t she join BFF Cesar Romero as a fellow guest villain on the ‘60s Batman phenom? Or appear on Marcus Welby with long-time leading man Robert Young? Later, why didn't Joan appear on The Waltons, with a favorite past co-star, Ellen Corby? Crawford also loved Little House on the Prairie and I’m sure Michael Landon would have invited Joan to guest-star.  

All dressed up and nowhere to go: Joan Crawford on the "Charlotte" set.

Why the drop-off, then? I really feel Joan’s way of life changed in 1964 & ‘65. Crawford’s Achilles’ heel was overplaying her cards when feeling her oats. When Joan chose to try to one up Bette Davis on Oscar Night 1963, she paid for it dearly the next year. Bette made it clear that their Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte rematch would be a grudge match. After nine days on location, Joan became “ill” and was eventually replaced. The following year, Crawford got another payback from a professional adversary, Pepsi’s Donald Kendall, who Joan dubbed “Fang.” He was just as tough and ambitious as Joan, and was Al’s right hand man. Joan treated him like a flunky. When Al died, Kendall took over, and do you think Joan let up? Nope. He was infuriated by Crawford corralling all the publicity, along with her ongoing demands. When Kendall made a major coup merging Pepsi and Frito Lay, he created a new board. And guess who was not invited? Joan’s acting jobs and Pepsi tours started dropping off and she had only herself to blame. Given her age, it wouldn’t have been easy either way, but pitting herself against two far more secure opponents did not extend her professional shelf life.

My “what if?” wish for Joan is that she would have opened up her wide eyes to the writing on the wall by ’65. It was two years before any more film offers came her way, both from Britain. Her appearances on The Lucy Show and The Secret Storm were publicized and watched, but furthered more unflattering gossip. Sadly, the British producer of Berserk and Trog had to extract a promise from Joan not to drink during the workday.

Tangling with the taskmaster of "The Lucy Show" seemed ill-advised after recent rounds with Bette Davis and Pepsi's new CEO, dubbed "Fang" by Joan. 

By this time, Joan Crawford seemed increasingly like a queen in self-imposed exile. Hollywood held too many ghosts for her, Joan said. I can see that. I could never live in Traverse City again for the same reason. If she had gone onstage starting in the ‘50s, Joan Crawford could have extended her career in quality work. Yes, she claimed stage fright. But Joan was also once terrified to fly, until she married Al Steele. So was I, until I met Jigger, who loved to travel. Then Crawford traveled the world for nearly two decades. Joan was a workhorse and I think she might have thrived on Broadway.

Finally, after the John Springer book party September 23, ‘74, Joan saw unflattering photos of herself and Rosalind Russell the next day. Crawford closed the books on public appearances: “If that's how I look, they won’t see me again.”

Other great female stars have faced this dilemma. “Old age ain’t no place for sissies” was one of Bette Davis’ pet sayings. Yet, Bette and Elizabeth Taylor soldiered on publicly with guts. Lana, Ava, and Marlene were some of the legends who chose to hide away. 

While there were certainly unflattering pics of Joan Crawford & Rosalind Russell that 1974 evening at the Rainbow Room, I love this warm shot of the two MGM greats! 

In her memoir, Helen Hayes wrote about her long-time friend: “Joan was an extraordinary figure in the movie world, and I was fascinated by her. Most people thought she was hard as nails, like the characters she portrayed in pictures. But some of us sensed there was a vulnerable, insecure woman behind the tough mask. She had fought hard to escape impoverished beginnings, and I supposed she never stopped struggling to stay on top.”

I’ll go a step further. Behind that sometimes fearsome façade of Joan Crawford remained Billie Cassin, the abused, impoverished girl who feared that the painstakingly crafted persona she created would slip away.

In Crawford’s post-Steele era, Joan began sharing much positive wisdom, which even in the final years ran counter to her actual behavior. I’m sure Joan read many books on serenity and spiritual thinking, but I know first-hand there’s a huge difference between learning something and truly believing it. Crawford’s last friend Carl Johnes first visit with Joan was to help her sort out her many books, and he observed Harriet Craig in action. Joan’s houseman bumped a table while cleaning and sent a glass bowl flying with a crash. Joan came stomping into the living room with a cigarette clenched in her mouth: “WHAT’S the damage?!” Perhaps Joan should have taken time out to read one of her favorite poems of uplift, Desiderata!

Alanna Nash, a show biz writer, got to know Joan when Nash was a student at Stephens College. Nash covered Joan’s honorary degree for their school paper. One of Joan’s famous thank you notes ensued, of course. Nash’s observation was that Joan’s temper and ongoing tensions were caused by her need for order and perfection, not cruelty. And that’s why those close to her often stayed on.

A meaty role for latter day Joan Crawford, as the rich, domineering NYC woman
in a "Night Gallery" episode, "Eyes," directed by young Steven Spielberg.

There were positive moments, too: Joan’s stellar stint on Night Gallery in ’69 was directed by young Steven Spielberg. John Springer’s Legendary Ladies retrospectives showcased Joan in late ’73 and the reception was incredible. Joan should have toured with it, like Bette Davis with hers. And Joan’s professional appearances were greeted with great affection, from fans and fellow celebrities alike. After a bad fall in her apartment at the end of ‘74, Joan stopped drinking cold turkey. Not long after, she continued to surprise by quitting smoking, as well.

Joan’s many pontifications were aimed to please fans, but there’s one that I think she was serious about: Crawford’s insecurity over her lack of formal education. Joan Crawford had a life-long hunger to improve and educate herself. I’m a life-long learner, too. The only higher education Joan got was a brief stint at Missouri’s Stephens College, where she got in on a scholarship. The problem was Joan spent most of her time as a cook and maid there, with little time for study. Crawford’s life-long mentor, Dean James Wood, later wrote and researched about women who gave up their education for marriage. And how there was a need to be met for these women. Wouldn’t it have been inspiring if Joan had elected to attend one of the colleges in NYC and write about the experience, instead of what vegetables look best together on an appetizer tray? I think her fellow students would have learned much from Crawford, too, with her five decades of on-the-job training.

Joan Crawford receiving her honorary degree from Stephens College.
Her short time there as a student was mostly spent scrubbing, cooking,
and doing laundry. I bet this was a bittersweet moment for her.

But the reality was that Joan’s existence became smaller in the ‘70s, with occasional happiness. Once she became ill with stomach cancer, sometime in ’76, it was just a matter of time. By May of 1977, those close to Joan knew was ready to go when she gave up her beloved Shih Tzu, Princess Lotus Blossom. I actually misted up reading this, recalling my farewell to my beloved Cockapoo Ginger last summer.

Joan Crawford's last portrait sitting, with her beloved
Princess Lotus Blossom. Joan was already ill when this photo taken.

Like Joan Crawford, I just want one more home, in the country. Mine will be in my hometown of Manistique, Upper MI. I want a home base that will be smaller but cozy, easier to care for, and open to anyone who wants to visit me. And among my movie stuff, I just might hang a picture of Joan Crawford, contentedly enjoying one of her homes.

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

I'll be selling my Upper MI house soon. Like Joan wished for herself, I want to move just one more time, to my "forever" home.