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July 25, 2008
Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner's Wonderful Time
Ava Gardner, publicity photo for The Killers
The love affair between Ava Gardner and Frank Sinatra—and I'm using that term loosely—was a legendary tsunami of high drama. Both stars were emotionally immature with little impulse control. Both stars were alcoholics. And both had a history of affairs with equally unstable partners.
And so it should have been no surprise that The Voice and The Shape would meet and fall into a mad, torrid relationship punctuated by unbridled passion and equal doses of violence.
In Autumn of 1949 Gardner and Sinatra, not yet lovers, were both at the Palm Beach home of producer Darryl F. Zanuck. The liquor flowed, and the two stars locked in on each other like lethal missiles.
Ava said, “You're still married.”
Frank responded, “No, doll, it's all over. It is done.”
For hours they drank and flirted. Ava's career was going through the roof. Her smoldering role as the femme fatale in The Killers—one of the best noir movies ever—catapulted her into the Hollywood stratosphere.
For a shoeless farm girl from North Carolina with no father and little education, Hollywood stardom was a dangerous perfume. In a few short years Ava went from being a sensitive, prim and proper virgin to a notoriously loose, hard-drinking, hard-hearted woman.
Sinatra's career was in trouble. His records were not selling as they used to and MGM was anxious to let him go as his box office appeal faltered. Sinatra did not help himself by being obnoxious and hostile to the media.
Sinatra and Gardner exited Zanuck's party with a bottle of booze in hand. They clambered into Sinatra's Cadillac and putting pedal to metal, Sinatra roared into the night.
Driving along they passed the bottle back and forth.
Like two crazy kids, they were going nowhere fast.
Soon, they ended up in the small town of Indio. Sinatra pulled into the main street and parked. There he and Ava kissed and groped under the stars.
Taking a break from their make-out session, Ava tipped back her head for another long gulp of hooch. Sinatra leaned forward, opened the glove compartment and pulled out two .38 Smith & Wesson pistols.
Sinatra took aim at a street light and fired. Glass exploded. He aimed at another street light and hit it on the first shot.
Ava, a country girl who grew up around hunters, cried: “Let me shoot something.”
Sinatra grinned and handed her the second pistol. Whooping like a Confederate soldier Ava Gardner aimed at the twinkling stars and blasted away.
Frank stared at Ava, mesmerized, and knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he had finally found his soul mate. Here was the most beautiful woman in Hollywood, shooting up the inexplicable universe.
Ava downed more liquor, sighted down the barrel of the Smith & Wesson and fired into the window of a hardware store.
Ava shot the chambers empty and continued to shriek the rebel yell.
Sinatra put the huge Caddy into gear and headed back to Palm Springs. They didn't get very far before they heard a police siren.
Two small town cops approached with guns leveled.
Sinatra said to Ava: “Christ, what do these clowns want now?”
A few hours later, as Ava lay unconscious on a wood bench in the police station, a publicist from Los Angeles arrived by chartered plane with a big black bag that he handed over to the cops.
Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner were released. There was no paper trail and no publicity.
The two small town cops enjoyed a prosperous retirement.
In the morning, back in Palm Springs, Ava Gardner's sister, Bappie, was up having breakfast when Ava returned all rumpled and haggard and smelling like a speakeasy.
Bappie wanted to know where Ava was all night.
Ava replied: “I went out with Frank Sinatra. We had a wonderful time.”
Ava Gardner and Frank Sinatra party hard
My main source for this anecdote is Lee Server's excellent biography Ava Gardner, Love is Nothing.
Legal Disclaimer: Seraphic Secret does not condone or recommend this style of dating. We strongly support coffee and conversation in the lobby of your local mega hotel, respect for private property, and oh yeah, firearm safety.
Karen and I wish all our friends a lovely and inspirational Shabbat.
Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner's Wonderful Time
Joan Crawford Untouched, Retouched
Evelyn Keyes: Scarlett's Younger Sister
Notable Hollywood Eyebrows Part I and Part II
Cyd Charisse: Dancing Dynamite
Lana Turner: Bad and Beautiful
Hollywood Goes to War
Lillian Gish: Dying for Her Audience
Ricardo Cortez: Hollywood's Latin Lover or The Kosher Butcher's Son
Hollywood's First Western Hero: Billy Broncho, A Jewish Kid Who Couldn't Ride a Horse
Sylvia Sidney Replaces Clara Bow
Douglas Sirk Directs Linda Darnell
Less Dialogue is More: Mervyn LeRoy, Vivien Leigh, Robert Taylor and Waterloo Bridge.
Alla Nazimova: Desperately Exotic
Charlton Heston: A Moment of Silence
Lilyan Tashman.
Carmel Myers: The Rabbi's Beautiful Daughter
Colleen Moore: The Stars and Stripes
Colleen Moore's Wedding Night
One Hairstyle, Three Memoirs: Alma Rubens, Colleen Moore, Louise Brooks
Theda Bara: The Vamp Adopts the Troops
Movie Magazines: They Don't Print 'em Like They Used To
Alma Rubens: Dope Fiend, But Not a Jewess
Wallace Reid: Hollywood Shooting Star
Olive Thomas: Hollywood's First Suicide
Mary Pickford: The Greatest Movie Star
Seraphic Secret Chats with Actress Coleen Gray about John Wayne, Howard Hawks, and Stanley Kubrick
Susan Peters: The Great Unknown and Tragic Actress
The Blond Machine Gun: Jean Harlow
Peg Entwistle & The Hollywood Sign
Brigitte Bardot & Sean Connery in Shalako—Sorta
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at July 25, 2008 10:36 AM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
What an incredible story! I especially like the disclaimer. :)
Posted by: Katie B. at July 25, 2008 01:26 PM
Loved this Robert. There has never been or will ever be a voice like Sinatra's. Don't care what kind of person he was...just give me that voice.
Posted by: cruisin-mom at July 25, 2008 04:55 PM
Katie:
The disclaimer, well, must protect Seraphic Secret from readers anxious to sue.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.seraphicpress.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at July 25, 2008 06:25 PM
Cruisin' Mom:
Glad you enjoyed the post.
Sinatra was often hostile and he could be a terrible bully, but he was also intensely loyal to his friends, and was known to be incredibly generous and kind.
Frank Sinatra was a staunch supporter of Israel, and secretly funneled money to the Haganah.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at July 25, 2008 06:32 PM
Love it!
Linked to my typepad blog; couldn't figure out the typekey thing, though.
I do think this is why dating doesn't seem quite the same to me now days...
Posted by: jeannie at July 26, 2008 10:57 AM
Jeannie:
Thanks so much for the link. The typekey thing is a mystery to yours truly too.
So, do you yearn for the good ol' days when pistols and gin and speeding Cadillacs were the, ahem, norm?
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at July 26, 2008 09:11 PM
Some guys used to say that the measure of a good date was based upon whether you got to first base or not.
I knew better. My rules were simple. If you couldn't kill a rat at 50 paces the date was a waste of my time. ;)
Posted by: Jack at July 27, 2008 06:23 PM