John Garfield Quotes

But he had always believed in fighting for the underdog, against the top dog. He had learned it, not from The Home, or The School, or The Church, but from that fourth and other great moulder of social conscience, The Movies. From all those movies that had begun to come out when Roosevelt went in. He had been a kid back then, a kid who had not been on the bum yet, but he was raised up on all those movies that they made then, the ones that were between '32 and '37 and had not yet degenerated into commercial imitations of themselves like the Dead End Kid perpetual series that we have now. He had grown up with them, those movies like the every first Dead End, like Winternet, like Grapes Of Wrath, like Dust Be My Destiny, and those other movies starring John Garfield and the Lane girls, and the on-the-bum and prison pictures starring James Cagney and George Raft and Henry Fonda.

Of an entirely different order is Brennan’s magnificent performance as Pop Gruber, an aging grifter in Nobody Lives Forever (November 1, 1946), starring John Garfield as a con man, Nick Blake, who eventually goes straight after falling in love with Gladys Halvorsen (Geraldine Fitzgerald, in the prime of her beauty). The script by W. R. Burnett, one of masters of film noir, provides not just Brennan, but also George Coulouris (Doc Ganson) with more dimension than is usually accorded heavies in crime dramas.

Even before the war ended, in late 1863 and early 1864, Representative James M. Ashley (R-OH) and Senator John Henderson (D-MO) introduced in Congress a constitutional amendment abolishing slavery. The Thirteenth Amendment was, in important ways, revolutionary. Immediately, it moved responsibility for enforcement and protection of civil rights from the states to the federal government and sent a strong, powerful signal that citizens were first and foremost U.S. citizens. The Thirteenth Amendment was also a corrective and an antidote for a Constitution whose slave-owning drafters, like Thomas Jefferson, were overwhelmingly concerned with states’ rights. Finally, the amendment sought to give real meaning to “we hold these truths to be self-evident” by banning not just government-sponsored but also private agreements that exposed blacks to extralegal violence and widespread discrimination in housing, education, and employment.8 As then-congressman James A. Garfield remarked, the Thirteenth Amendment was designed to do significantly more than “confer the bare privilege of not being chained.

He was horribly neglected, forgotten, pushed aside. It was almost as if Hollywood was so ashamed of what was done to him that they almost made him disappear.

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.