Spencer Tracy_ A Biography - James C. Curtis [4]
The late Millard Kaufman was an indefatigable champion of this book long before the first lines were written, and he followed its progress closely. Besides sharing his own memories of Spencer Tracy, Dore Schary, and the making of Bad Day at Black Rock, Millard put me in touch with several important figures from the period, and was always at the ready with both help and advice. The same can be said in spades for Scott Eyman, who was with me throughout the difficult period when it looked, at first, as if this book would happen, and then again when it seemed for sure that it would not. I’m certain his ready presence at the other end of the phone kept me sane on the long road to this book’s completion, and, as always, he has my deepest appreciation.
Victoria Wilson, senior editor and associate publisher, cleared the way at Knopf for this book to be written, and was always intensely interested in its development. I could not ask for a more supportive or knowledgeable editor, and that this book exists at all is a testament to her judgment and determination. My agent, Neil Olson, has likewise been a rock-solid source of support and advice, and shall always have my thanks for taking this on.
Most of all, my wife, Kim Geary, made it possible for me to take the time to research and write this book. She has my gratitude for the essential role she played in its development, and my love for the essential role she plays in my life.
James Curtis
Brea, California
November 2010
CHAPTER 1
General Business
* * *
The first time she saw him was in profile. He was seated halfway back in the car and she noticed him as he stood. His was a strong Irish face, lined and ruddy, jaw square, eyes blue, hair sandy brown, thick and jostled by the movement of the train.
There was no clue as to who he was, the work he did, or exactly what he was doing on the nearly empty Westchester bound for White Plains, the last stop on an electric line that began at the Harlem River and glided northward through the Bronx, Mount Vernon, and New Rochelle on a fifty-minute trip to the suburbs.
She collected her things from the seat beside her and was depositing her ticket in the chopper box when it occurred to them both that they were the only two people on the platform. He asked if she’d care to share a cab. And when he told her that he was headed for the Palace Theatre on Main Street, she knew at once that she had not only made an acquaintance but met a colleague as well.
The Palace was six blocks west of the station, a big barn of a place that had opened promisingly but fallen on hard times. It started with stock and traveling shows and event recitals, went through two name changes and a spell as a movie emporium, and was now home to the freshly minted stock company of one Leonard Wood, Jr.
Wood was something of a local celebrity in that he bore the name of his father, military governor of Cuba, army chief of staff, and current governor-general of the Philippines. He had worked a deal for the theater on a percentage basis, brought in Kendal Weston, the “Belasco of stock,” to direct, but then lost his leading woman to a contract dispute before the dusty seats of the Palace could be warmed by paying customers. With the company’s opening set for April 9, 1923, Weston was sent scrambling, and it was then that he put in a call for Louise Treadwell.
Louise had appeared under Weston’s direction in Manchester, where her long brown hair,