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 Donald O'Connor 1925-2003 |
Glitz didn't surround him,
not our Donald O'Connor!
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Movie legend Donald O'Connor died on Sept. 27 at the age of 78. Andy Murcia wrote this column with the help of his wife and colleague Ann Jillian, who pooled their memories of Donald O'Connor. |
By ANDY MURCIA
with the aid of ANN JILLIAN
of TheColumnists.com
Being married to Ann Jillian has afforded me the opportunity--and, in a few instances--the misfortune of meeting many Hollywood Stars. You name them, I've most likely met them. Most had their own way of showing the world that they were "stars." Most dressed the part to excess, the best threads that money could buy. They drove the most expensive, attention getting automobiles, surrounded themselves with a group of ankle biters, like press agents, managers, agents, and flunky go-fer’s, who mainly yes'ed them to death.
The only star I met who did none of those things was Donald O’Connor.
About 1983, Ann was invited by Bob Hope to join him in Palm Beach, Florida, where he was going to put on a show to raise funds for the JFK Hospital there. Nobody would get paid, but Bob would see to it that all the first class expenses were picked up. We all had ocean front suites at the great Breakers Hotel there with an open tab. As Ann's manager, I said, "Sure, Bob, we'll do it." (Bob let me know after the fact that the tab for all this was being picked up by Gene Pope, then owner of the National Enquirer. Had I known that in advance, I’d have responded differently.)
Bob told me that all Ann would have to do is perform one song with the orchestra and a duet with Bob. He said "it'll be great." She would also sit on a dais and sign autographs and pose for photos with the "old money" folks, most of whom could buy and sell most of the stars. Bob said "it's so cute, really," as these wealthy folks would walk up to the star of their choice and point with their diamond-dripping hand where they wanted them to sign.
There was a rehearsal on the afternoon of the performance date in the hotel ballroom. Each star was given a rehearsal time. Ann and I arrived a bit early. I noticed Hope was still rehearsing his cue card readings, and there was a slight-built fellow sitting on a bare wood table. The waiters were setting the other tables, but this small man just sat there watching Bob.
At first I thought he must be one of Bob's fans. The guy was casually dressed in slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. As I got a better look at him, I knew at once it was Donald O’Connor. While Ann was blowing kisses to Bob, I ushered her over to where O’Connor was sitting. He spryly jumped off his table, and said "Hi, Ann!"
Holy cow, Donald O’Connor knew my Ann by name! Both she and I felt extremely honored. Donald offered Ann a seat on top of the wood table by patting the wood and comically saying; "You're most welcome to join me in my box." Ann hopped up next to him, and me next to Ann. They chatted about Bob and what numbers each of them were going to be rehearsing. He spoke modestly, with no affectation of any kind. We could have been talking to the guy next to you at work. The only difference was this man was a multi-talented giant!
Ann's rehearsal time was
scheduled right after Donald's, but he insisted she go first
when he said to me, "It's not nice to keep a lady waiting."
Ann tried her best to resist, but Donald insisted by adding,
"Besides, I love the way she sings."
Man, I was liking Donald O’Connor more and more. I was speechless.
Here was this big star who made me laugh out loud as a kid with
all those "Francis The Talking Mule" movies and who
thrilled everyone with his dancing in "Singing in the Rain."
For my money, Donald had no problem at all keeping up with the
great Gene Kelly in those legendary dance numbers. Keep in mind
that Kelly was a trained dancer and I've been told that O’Connor
was an "intuitive dancer."
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He was a very unpretentious guy, being so gentlemanly to total strangers. As Ann sang the great love song, "More Than You Know," she got to the lyric, "lately I find, you're on my mind, more than you know" and she pointed to Donald O’Connor. With a blush, he smiled and good naturedly pointed her to me, as if to say "you mean your husband." What a guy!
When Ann finished her song, Donald hopped off the table, went over and gave her a hug and kind words of appreciation. Ann and I stayed to watch Donald rehearse and he played his number right to her. I just loved it all.
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greatest film, 'Singin' in the Rain' |
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Soon, we said our goodbyes from the rehearsal, and after the show that evening, we all went our separate ways. But, Donald O’Connor left Ann and I with a bunch of good feelings.
For one thing, he was totally genuine--a real person. He was a first class gent in every respect, never a showoff. Over the years, every time Donald O’Connor’s name came up, someone would always say nice things about him, so we knew he was nice to everyone, as he was to Ann and I that afternoon. I think a man has done well in his life when not just some, but everyone speaks highly of him.
This was the case with Donald O’Connor. I'm sure he made his God proud to have made him. Donald O’Connor was a very rare find in a place called "Hollywood," as a "star," but, more importantly, as a person. May he rest in peace and be treated nicely just like he treated all of us who had the honor to meet him. The world lost a good human being in Donald O’Connor and we will all miss him.
©2003 by Andy Murcia
and Ann Jillian Murcia. The caricatures of Andy Murcia and Ann
Jillian are ©2003 and ©2000 by Jim Hummel. The photos
of O'Connor are courtesy of the official Donald O'Connor website.
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