Garfield And Friends Quotes

At her husband’s funeral, Jackie was an endless source of care and compassion to his grieving family and friends. When asked how she could be so strong, “Jackie said she received great comfort from three guardian angels: ‘my mother-in-law, my mother, and a lifetime friend who always said she was my guardian angel.... I always know they’re at my side, watching over me and praying for me.

Reggie’s was more complicated, as nicknames sometimes are. His first nickname started from me and a couple of friends back in Bako making fun of his big cheeks and big teeth by calling him “Gopher.” He obviously didn’t like that, so we made up this word, “Gar,” and to us it meant “Gopher,” so that’s what we started calling him under our breath. But then he found out what that meant. He was kinda fat back then, so we added “-field” to the end of it and started calling him “Garfield,” like the overweight cartoon cat. Eventually, the “Gar” got dropped and we wound up calling him “Fieldy.

Iris Whitney, a former showgirl that frequented Malachy’s bar on Third Avenue, became my friend with a story. The same year that I had graduated from High School, she had been frolicking with John Garfield in her two room Gramercy Park apartment. On May 21, 1952 Garfield was found dead of a heart attack, in her bed. When I first met Iris I didn’t know anything about this but even if I had, all I can say is that I enjoyed her company and survived the experience. Of course she denied having been intimate with the actor the night that he died and added that John had not been feeling well. When the police arrived and had to break the door down, her explanation was that she thought that they were newspaper men. Several years later, in Connecticut, I had the occasion to talk about old times and some of these events, to the popular stage and screen actor Byron Barr better known as “Gig Young.” Sitting with my wife Ursula and Young at the open bar alongside the Candlewood Theatre, in New Fairfield during the summer of 1978, everything seemed normal. Coincidentally I also knew his former wife Elizabeth Montgomery who was married to him from 1956 to 1963, since she was my neighbor living on the nearby Cushman road in Patterson New York,. On October 19, 1978, two months after seeing Young, I read that he had shot his wife Kim Schmidt and committed suicide only three weeks after their marriage. Apparently Young had shot his wife and then turned the gun on himself. They were both found dead in their Manhattan apartment but the police never established a motive for the murder-suicide. I knew that he liked to drink and this may have been a part of the problem, but he always seemed congenial and there was no hint that it would ever come to this.

At recess, my friends and I talk about eating our first pepperoni pizza like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, eating lasagna like Garfield, eating McDonald’s, watching the new Star Wars inside a theater with air-conditioning, eating “popcorn” with butter. I’ve never tried any of these things except for pizza from Pizza Hut, and that was last Christmas. “¿But