Out Of The Frying Pan—Rita Hayworth & Dick Haymes

One of the most popular pinups in World War II was a photograph of Rita Hayworth. It showed her sitting up in bed, clad in a transparent nightgown. This pinup was plastered on bomb bays, block-busters, and barracks walls throughout the world. Rita Hayworth was portrayed as the most beautiful, glamorous, desirable woman on earth. Life magazine described her as the American version of the “love goddess.”

A few years later, when Rita was married to Aly Khan, a columnist for the New York Post spoke for the male sex when he wrote: “There is scarcely a man among us who on the occasion of this news does not suffer a sense of personal defeat.”

But today, Rita Hayworth is more often regarded as a typical Hollywood glamour girl who wears her heart on her lips. This change of the attitude of the public may be attributed to her recent marriage to Dick Haymes and the incredible circumstances surrounding it.

Earlier this year when Dick and Rita began going together, instead of acknowledging their friendship, they made a secret of it. Rita refused to talk to reporters. She refused to tell friends where she was. She refused to discuss Haymes in any light, whatever, Every question concerning Dick got one answer, “No comment.”

Haymes, a rather muddled character, behaved even more strangely. For long periods of time no one could find him. Not even his wife. Not even his lawyer. Servants at the Hayworth home answered questions with, “Dick Haymes? Never heard of him.”

Actually, there was no need for any of this furtiveness. Nora Haymes, Dick’s third wife, had told him that their marriage was finished. Some people say Nora fell in love with an agent who was once very close to Rita, and who promised Nora a great career. Others believe that Nora fell in love with a producer of the legitimate theatre.

Whatever the reason, it was she who decided that she wanted no more of her marriage with Haymes. They agreed to separate, and Haymes was a free agent. A man who chronically falls in love, he fell in love then with Rita Hayworth.

Instead of being proud of their mutual love, instead of admitting it, Dick and Rita made a mystery of it. When Rita took a train to New York, Haymes went along. For some reason, they felt it necessary to be so discreet that it became a kind of cloak-and-dagger performance.

No one could understand why. Nora Haymes was never in a position to name Rita Hayworth as a co-respondent in a divorce case, and Dick and Rita knew that. Were they ashamed of their love?

The plain, simple, appalling answer to their strange headline-making behavior is that they both occasionally have very poor judgment about their personal lives.

Look at the Haymes record. He was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in 1916. As a boy Dick was sent to school in Switzerland. He was admitted to the United States as a permanent resident in May, 1937, when he entered the country at New York City under his mother’s passport. At that time he made application for his first citizenship papers.

In 1939, when he was twenty-one and was singing with an orchestra, he fell in love with a girl who was singing in a Chicago hotel. They were married, and a few weeks after the marriage, Haymes requested a divorce.

Strangely enough, Haymes never told his third wife, Nora Eddington Flynn, about this first marriage. A few months ago, a reporter commented to her, “If Dick marries Hayworth, it will be his fourth marriage. That’s pretty good for a guy of thirty-seven.”

Politely Nora turned and said, “Dick has only been married twice, once to Joanne Dru and once to me.”

When the truth finally emerged at Haymes’ immigration hearing, Nora was shocked. “He never told me!” she exclaimed. “He never told me. I get more surprises every day.”

“Perhaps it slipped his mind.”

“Slipped his mind, my foot,” Nora said. “I’ll tell you this. He is not going to get a divorce in Las Vegas before I file for a divorce in California. He’s not going to do that to me. I’ve been pretty darn cooperative with him and Rita. If Dick tries to marry without my okay, he and Hayworth will be involved in bigamy.”

Nora meant exactly what she said. She wanted $8,000 in a cash settlement and alimony of $100 a week until she remarries, or she’d never even file for divorce. Haymes gave her what she asked for, anything to be free to marry Rita.

After his first divorce, an event which he blocked out of his memory, Haymes fell in love with an attractive young actress named Lacock, who later changed her name to Joanne Dru. She is the mother of his three children, currently aged eleven, eight and a half, and five and a half. And it was while he was married to Joanne Dru that he hit his stride as an entertainer, earning more than a million dollars a year for at least three years. During his career as a singer, Dick has grossed about $6,000,000 and spent every cent of it in taxes, expenses, alimony, and living.

During World War II, Joanne Dru gave birth to a child. Haymes, who had been classified 1-A by his draft board, asked for a deferment. When it wasn’t granted, he filed an application on January 25, 1944, for relief from military service as an alien.

The following sentence is on that application: “I understand that in making this application for relief from military service as an alien that I will be barred from ever becoming a citizen of the United States.”

Haymes’ attorneys claim that the application which Dick signed was an incomplete document and was never acted upon by Dick’s draft board in New York.

The irony of it all is that after Haymes applied for exemption from military service he was notified to report for a physical examination by Draft Board 251 in Los Angeles. He was given a thorough going over and classified as 4-F, physically unfit. High blood pressure.

When that news was sent back to Dick’s original Draft Board 31 in New York City, the members couldn’t believe it. So Haymes was ordered to appear for another physical, this time in New York. He was shipped to Governor’s Island and held there for three days from August 13 to August 16, 1945 (the war was pretty nearly over by then) and again he was rejected for military service.

If Dick had never applied for a service exemption on the grounds that he was a citizen of a neutral nation, Argentina, or if he had waited until he had taken his physical, he would have been classified 4-F and exempted, anyway.

He doesn’t think matters through. Take this deportation mess. He didn’t even bother to tell his own lawyer about it until he was arrested. Then he called Bob Eaton one morning, and said, “Bob, they’ve got me here in the pokey. Come on down and get me out.”

The lawyer signed a bailbond for $500 and Haymes was released.

Dick Haymes first met Rita Hayworth in an Italian restaurant called The Naples. It is located a few doors up the street from Columbia Studios. Dick was working on Cruising Down The River. One noon he went to lunch at The Naples. So did Rita, who was also working at Columbia. When Rita’s companions saw Haymes lunching alone, they asked him to join their table. The crooner took one look at Rita, and wham!

From that minute on he began an ardent, tempestuous courtship. This was permissible since he was separated from his wife who was dating other gentlemen.

All of Haymes’ former wives agree on one thing, that Haymes is a good and golden and honorable lover. He is a man of loyalty and fidelity.

Rita liked that. Lonely, unhappy, depressed, suspicious, and doubtful, she suddenly found herself pursued by a tall, young, handsome crooner who wanted only to be with her, to love her, to marry her to make her his own.

Even more than most women, Rita needs he love. She appeared to receive little from husband number one, Ed Judson, who was twenty-five years older than she. From husband number two, Orson Welles, she got a daughter, Rebecca, whom she now supports, and a liberal education in fine arts, but again, little or no love. From husband number three, Aly Khan, she go a title, a daughter, Yasmin, whom she also supports, and here again, little or no love.

All three of these husbands attempted pro to improve Rita, to make her over, to play Pygmalion to her Liza. They thought she had potential but no polish. Haymes is the first of her four husbands to love her just as she is.

This unasking devotion is what won him Rita’s heart. It is also what lies behind his deportation trouble.

Earlier this year, when Rita flew to Hawaii for location work on Miss Sadie Thompson, Dick simply could not stand being away from his love. He had his agent arrange a concert for him on Oahu.

In fairness to Dick, this must be said: Before he left for Hawaii, he went to the office of the Immigration Department in Los Angeles. He said that he was an alien resident, that he had been born in Argentina, that he was not a United States citizen, and he asked if it was all right for him to make the trip.

He was given permission.

When he returned to Los Angeles, he told one of the Immigration men that he had lost his alien registration card.

The Immigration man was amazed. “How did you get out of the country in the first place?” he asked. He told Dick that under the terms of the McCarran Act, no man avoiding military service by claiming alien citizenship, could legally re-enter the United States once he had left the continental limits of the country. Hawaii was outside the continental limits, and Haymes was liable to deportation. Haymes had sixty days to prepare his defense.

Instead of taking up this matter at once with his attorney in Los Angeles Haymes secretly took off for New York with Rita. There he went to a legal firm which specializes in matters of immigration. These lawyers are said to have made an attempt to have Congress pass a private bill, granting him United States citizenship.

The Immigration Department in Washington keeps abreast of all private bills of this nature. When they learned of this there was more trouble. By then, Dick and Rita were back in Hollywood.

One morning, early in August, Haymes was driving along Sunset Boulevard when the Federal boys pulled up alongside him Ford. “Pull over,” they said. Haymes was taken downtown and arrested.

Through all this, Rita Hayworth said absolutely nothing, but she went to work behind the scenes. She had her lawyer Bartley Crum, fly out from New York Ostensibly, Crum’s trip was in connection with the financial settlement Aly Khan was offering to make on his daughter.

Crum had a conference with Haymes attorney, Bob Eaton, and later told Rita that Dick was in good legal hands. Eaton moved to have the deportation proceedings dismissed on the grounds of an old reciprocal treaty between Argentina and the United States. The judge said the matter merited further study.

One Dick began to make the headlines he suddenly became a valuable boxoffice attraction. For years he had been sliding steadily. Overnight he became, a the agents say, “red hot—a curiosity attraction.”

He was booked by the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas for $7,500 a week. His lawyer began to receive offers from London, Paris, New York, Philadelphia, and they went as high as $15,000 per week.

Things were picking up for Dick who currently is reported to be in debt to the extent of some $200,000.

Simultaneously, Rita Hayworth decided to bare her feelings. “I love Dick Haymes,” she announced. “I’m leaving for Las Vegas to marry him. I am behind him 100%.”

At the time, Dick still had plenty of problems. His second wife was suing him for back support, an agent was suing him, the Bureau of Internal Revenue was prepared to attach his salary, and his wife, Nora, wanted cash on the line before she would consent to a divorce.

After she filed for divorce, Nora suddenly decided not to sign the waiver granting Haymes permission to marry Rita Hayworth in Nevada.

The next day, she changed her mind. “I just wanted time to read the paper. I wish Rita and Dick every happiness.”

Two days later, Haymes, in Las Vegas with his bride-to-be, filed for divorce. The trial took about seven minutes.

“It was just general incompatability,” Dick told the judge. “My work takes me out of town a lot, and she didn’t want to come with me. We grew further and further apart.”

“You mean,” interjected Dick’s lawyer, “that she actually refused to make a home for you on the road and live with you as your wife?”

“That’s right,” Dick said.

“And what effect did that have on your health?”

Haymes mopped his brow. “I couldn’t tackle my work with a clear head. I lost weight.”

The judge nodded. “Judgment granted the plaintiff.” And that was that.

An hour later, Dick returned to the courthouse with Rita. Two dozen photographers and reporters followed them into the marriage license bureau. Rita was exceedingly nervous and unusually cooperative with the press. Beads of perspiration broke out on Haymes’ face, but he remained calm.

Half an hour later, the couple sat for an interview. “Do you plan a honeymoon?” they were asked.

“No,” Haymes said. “I’ve got to go out and earn some money.”

“If you’re deported, will Rita go with you?”

“I’m not going to be deported,” Dick said flatly. “I’m going to beat this case.”

At eleven-fifty A.M. on Thursday, September 24, they were married. After Dick kissed his bride, someone whispered, “He’s too nice to be deported.”

So far, no disposition has been made of the deportation case against Haymes. Some lawyers say that eventually he will be deported, that it may take years, but in the end, Dick will have no official residence in the United States. Others point out that even if Haymes should be deported, he could enter the country on a visitor’s visa and as the husband of Rita Hayworth, who was born in New York.

Dick, before his marriage to Rita, signed an agreement which prohibits his possible inheritance of her money, property, or worldly belongings. He also stipulated that she is in no way to be held liable for any debts previously incurred by him.

The future looks good to Dick and in a short time, he hopes to be free of his debts. All Rita Hayworth wants from him is his undying love.

Right now, that’s all Dick Haymes has to offer. Tomorrow, however—well, in a Rita and Dick’s philosophy, tomorrow never comes. It is always today. They live each day as if it were their last.

THE END

—BY WILLIAM BARBOUR

 

It is a quote. MODERN SCREEN MAGAZINE DECEMBER 1953