One more anecdote about Marilyn and Bobby comes from a Kennedy relative who requested anonymity, "because this is still such a sore subject with the family." She was married to one of the family members, though-she will allow that much. She says that she called Pat Kennedy Lawford in the spring of 1962 to ask if she had heard the stories about Marilyn and Bobby. "Okay, this has got to stop right here," Pat said, annoyed. "Either Marilyn is making up stories about Bobby in order to get Jack to change his mind about her, or she's doing it to show Jack what he's missing-or maybe both. Either way, it's adolescent behavior and I will talk to her about it. I asked Bobby very specifically if something was going on with Marilyn and Jack," she added. "He said he did not feel comfortable answering that question. I then asked him if anything was going on between him and Marilyn. He said absolutely not. And I believe him."

Of course, it can be said that for every person who believes the affair didn't happen, there are bound to be people who believe it did-including a number of FBI agents, it would seem.

Because of the ongoing contentious relationship between Bobby Kennedy, who as the attorney general was head of the Justice Department, and J. Edgar Hoover, director of the FBI, who considered the younger Kennedy an upstart and not someone he wanted to answer to, it is entirely possible that promulgating and perpetuating the "romance" between Bobby and Marilyn was a campaign of disinformation ordered by Hoover, a notorious lover of gossip, making it up and spreading it. Actually, some of the FBI's files on Kennedy and Monroe sound as if they were written by a lovesick schoolgirl, especially in that the key players are described by their first names. One missive, released in October 2006 under the Freedom of Information Act, notes that "Robert Kennedy was deeply involved emotionally with Marilyn Monroe." The relationship is described as "a romance and s.e.x affair." The paperwork reports that Bobby "has repeatedly promised to divorce his wife to marry Marilyn. Eventually, Marilyn realized that Bobby had no intention of marrying her." According to whom, though? The "former special agent" who wrote the report and whose name is deleted admits that he doesn't know the source for the information, nor can he vouch for its authenticity. However that didn't stop his report from being duly doc.u.mented in the FBI's files, on October 19, 1964.

Bobby: "The President Wants It and I Want It"

In May 1962, the relationship between Marilyn and the Kennedy brothers would take yet another strange twist. A celebration was being planned on May 19 for JFK's forty-fifth birthday-a big, overblown, televised spectacle that was to take place at Madison Square Garden. (His actual birthday would be on May 29.) It had been Peter Lawford's idea to have Marilyn Monroe sing "Happy Birthday" to the president. Of course, it was probably the height of arrogance that Peter felt he could get away with such a thing. It was almost as if everyone was so accustomed to getting away with so much where Marilyn was concerned, now they wanted to push the envelope and flaunt the relationship in front of the entire country-and on television!

One question that's never asked in regard to Marilyn's invitation to perform for the president is this: What in the world were Bobby and JFK thinking? What in the world were Bobby and JFK thinking? "This manipulation of Marilyn, already so sick, was as low as it got," said Jeanne Martin, wife of Dean Martin, who was costarring with Marilyn in the beleaguered "This manipulation of Marilyn, already so sick, was as low as it got," said Jeanne Martin, wife of Dean Martin, who was costarring with Marilyn in the beleaguered Something's Got to Give. Something's Got to Give. Jeanne was not only still a very good friend of Marilyn's but had also remained friendly with the Kennedys through the years. However, even she realized that the brothers had crossed a line. "This was shameful, it really was," she said. "There was no excuse for it." Jeanne was not only still a very good friend of Marilyn's but had also remained friendly with the Kennedys through the years. However, even she realized that the brothers had crossed a line. "This was shameful, it really was," she said. "There was no excuse for it."

Perhaps Marilyn needed the president in her life now more than ever. After all, she was rattled at this time by a series of events that had occurred just a month earlier.

In February, Marilyn had gone to Mexico to purchase furnishings for her new home. While she was there with Pat Newcomb and Eunice Murray, it again became clear that she was being followed by FBI agents. It couldn't have been a more ludicrous pursuit. The agents had it in their heads that she was involved with someone named Fred Vanderbilt Field, who had apparently served nine months in prison for not naming Communist friends. He moved to Mexico in 1953. Now, all these years later, a friend of a friend introduced him and his wife to Marilyn and-voila!-the FBI was tracking her every move in Mexico. For a woman who was already thought to be borderline paranoid schizophrenic by her doctor, such pursuit had to have been extremely frightening.

There are actually many allegations presented as fact in the FBI files concerning Monroe and Field, none of which appear to be true and none of which therefore are worth enumeration. In these same FBI files that detail her every move in Mexico, there is mention of her meeting with Bobby Kennedy in October 1961. She was definitely being watched-and she knew it.

At about this same time, Marilyn was in desperate trouble with 20th Century-Fox. In April and May 1962, as she continued to slip deeper into the darkest recesses of her mind, she placed the production of Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give in even greater jeopardy. It was impossible for her to begin rehearsals and camera tests for the film. She was constantly late, if she showed up at all. She always had an excuse, as she would for absences during the entire production, whether it was a cold, a sinus infection, or some other malady. All of it was true-she was a very sick woman. But she was also scared to death of George Cukor, and that didn't help matters either. Moreover, it was thought by most observers that Paula Strasberg, Marilyn's acting coach (who was being paid $5,000 a week), had become very intrusive. Sidney Guilaroff, who styled Marilyn's hair for the film as he had for many others, put it this way: "Dressed all in black, including a black gypsy scarf and thick stockings, Paula haunted the set-sometimes directing Marilyn with hand signals behind Cukor's back. Marilyn was so dependent upon her that she could barely read a line without Strasberg's specific brand of coaching." in even greater jeopardy. It was impossible for her to begin rehearsals and camera tests for the film. She was constantly late, if she showed up at all. She always had an excuse, as she would for absences during the entire production, whether it was a cold, a sinus infection, or some other malady. All of it was true-she was a very sick woman. But she was also scared to death of George Cukor, and that didn't help matters either. Moreover, it was thought by most observers that Paula Strasberg, Marilyn's acting coach (who was being paid $5,000 a week), had become very intrusive. Sidney Guilaroff, who styled Marilyn's hair for the film as he had for many others, put it this way: "Dressed all in black, including a black gypsy scarf and thick stockings, Paula haunted the set-sometimes directing Marilyn with hand signals behind Cukor's back. Marilyn was so dependent upon her that she could barely read a line without Strasberg's specific brand of coaching."

Harvey Bernstein once recalled a meeting he had with Marilyn at her home to discuss the script. She answered the door in hair curlers. There was no furniture in her living room, just a chair on which he sat while she sat on the floor. "Many of her ideas [for the script] were good for her and not so good for the story," he recalled. "But if I hinted at this, her face would go blank for a second, as though the current had been turned off, and when it was turned on again, she would continue as though I had said nothing.... Sometimes she would refer to herself in the third person, like Caesar. 'Remember you've got Marilyn Monroe, you've got to use her,' she told me.... I left feeling like a deckhand on a ship with no one at the helm and the water ahead full of rocks." * *

The last thing executives at 20th Century-Fox would approve of was Marilyn taking more time off to fly to New York City to sing for the president. Even though she had earlier been given permission, Peter Levathes reversed his position based on her poor attendance on the set of the film. He didn't want her to be distracted. In fact, the studio threatened to sue her if she took off for New York (and actually would file suit against her). When Bobby Kennedy heard of the possibility of a lawsuit against Marilyn, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He called Levathes to appeal to him that Marilyn's appearance for the president was very very im portant and would mean a lot to JFK. Levathes stood firm that he would not approve it. Annoyed, Bobby went over Levathes's head to his boss, Milton Gould. Gould has recalled that Bobby told him, " 'The president wants it, and I want it.' He was very abusive. I was surprised at his total lack of cla.s.s. I told him we were very much behind in our schedule and would not release her. He called me a 'no-good Jew b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' which I didn't appreciate. Then he slammed down the phone. I have to say I was surprised that they wanted her so badly that he was willing to humiliate himself like that." im portant and would mean a lot to JFK. Levathes stood firm that he would not approve it. Annoyed, Bobby went over Levathes's head to his boss, Milton Gould. Gould has recalled that Bobby told him, " 'The president wants it, and I want it.' He was very abusive. I was surprised at his total lack of cla.s.s. I told him we were very much behind in our schedule and would not release her. He called me a 'no-good Jew b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' which I didn't appreciate. Then he slammed down the phone. I have to say I was surprised that they wanted her so badly that he was willing to humiliate himself like that."

As it would happen, it didn't matter to Marilyn whether or not the studio approved of her going to New York. She'd made up her mind that she was going, and that was the end of it. Her priority was to be in New York with the Kennedy brothers. Twentieth Century-Fox could wait. At some point during this time, she apparently became melancholy about President Kennedy, because she painted a single red rose in watercolor on a sheet of paper. Then, in blue ink, she signed at the bottom left, "Happy Birthday Pres. Kennedy from Marilyn Monroe." She additionally signed and inscribed below the first signature, in black ink, this time mysteriously signing her name twice, reading in full: "Happy Birthday June 1, 1962/My Best Wishes/Marilyn/Marilyn." Of course, June 1, 1962, would be her last birthday, her thirty-sixth. (Decades later in 2005, this artwork would sell for $78,000 in a Julien's auction of Marilyn's possessions.) Marilyn left Los Angeles for New York on May 17, telling the media, "I told the studio six weeks ago that I was going. I consider it an honor to appear before the President of the United States." The cast and crew of Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give were stunned by her decision. "It was very surprising," recalled her stand-in, Evelyn Moriarty. "We all just felt like things couldn't get much worse. It was all so unpredictable and awful. But she did have permission, even if they took it away from her." were stunned by her decision. "It was very surprising," recalled her stand-in, Evelyn Moriarty. "We all just felt like things couldn't get much worse. It was all so unpredictable and awful. But she did have permission, even if they took it away from her."

Dean Martin's manager, Mort Viner, said, "That was poor form on her part. It showed where her priorities were, anyway, didn't it? But Dean told me, 'Hey, you can't blame her, Mort. Look, if Jackie Kennedy had asked me to fly cross country and sing Happy Birthday to her, I woulda gone.' "

New research now establishes, however, that perhaps the decision wasn't as easy for Marilyn as previously believed. She was conflicted, and she turned to her friend Pat Lawford for advice. According to people who knew Pat well, Pat told her that she now believed her brothers were being unfair to Marilyn, and maybe even trying to make a fool of her. This was likely not easy for Pat to admit. After all, she was a loyal Kennedy and almost always supported her brothers. However, as Marilyn's friend, she may have felt compelled to tell her how she truly felt about the matter. It's a testament to her, actually, that she was able to put aside her feelings of betrayal by Marilyn in order to help her friend achieve some clarity over the situation.

"She was worried about her," said a Kennedy family member. "She knew her brothers. She loved them, but she knew them well. She didn't think Marilyn could handle them. However, Marilyn thought that maybe if she went to New York, it would show the family that she was being supportive. She was putting her career on the line to do it, too. I mean, she was risking everything. There wasn't much Pat could say to that, I guess. It was a tough situation for everyone."

It also should be noted here that Marilyn no longer felt compelled to confide in her half sister, Berniece. Marilyn loved Berniece but had always felt that she had her own life and problems and was not necessarily a person she could turn to in times of trouble. What was Berniece to do on the other side of the country when Marilyn was in crisis mode? As a demonstration of the superficial nature of their relationship at this time, when the two talked about the upcoming Madison Square Garden appearance, Marilyn told her that her only apprehension was that she didn't feel she was up to the task of singing in public. She said that she felt her voice was not up to her standards. She didn't invite Berniece to the show, and apparently Berniece didn't ask to go.

"Happy Birthday, Mr. President"

Backstage at Madison Square Garden in New York City on May 19, 1962, Marilyn Monroe was extremely anxious, and with good reason. No doubt the gravity of the situation finally hit her. She was about to honor someone who had just rejected her, and he was the president of the United States. She had left Los Angeles against the wishes of her bosses at Fox, risking her starring role in a movie. Complexities most people could never imagine, yet this was Marilyn's life, for better or worse (and, lately, it would seem, mostly for worse).

Earlier in the month, producer Richard Adler expressed concern over what Marilyn might decide to wear to such an important, televised event. She told him not to fret. She said she planned to wear a sophisticated black satin dress with a high neckline that had already been designed for her by couturier Norman Norell. However, she secretly had other plans. She asked designer Jean Louis to design a dress "that only Marilyn Monroe could wear," and that's exactly what he did. "Marilyn had a totally charming way of boldly displaying her body and remaining elegant at the same time," he later recalled. "So, I designed an apparently nude dress-the nudest dress-relieved only by sequins and beading." Incidentally, the gown was not lined, and Marilyn did not wear undergarments-of course! She was actually st.i.tched into the dress by its designer. (This is the gown that sold at auction in 2007 for $1.27 million.) After she was introduced by Peter Lawford, he took her ermine stole from her and Marilyn went on to breathlessly sing "Happy Birthday" to the president. "She handled the lyrics well enough," said producer Richard Adler, "but you couldn't hear them anyway. For the crowd was yelling and screaming for her. It was like a ma.s.s seduction." Most people with even a pa.s.sing interest in Marilyn Monroe have seen footage of Marilyn singing "Happy Birthday" on this evening. Less seen was the rest of her number, a special tribute to JFK written by Adler and performed by Monroe to the melody of "Thanks for the Memories." Afterward, Marilyn had the audience join her for another round of "Happy Birthday."

"I was honored when they asked me to appear," Marilyn later told Richard Merryman of Life. Life. "There was like a hush over the whole place when I came on to sing Happy Birthday-like if I had been wearing a slip, I would have thought it was showing, or something. I thought, 'Oh my gosh, what if no sound comes out...' I remember when I turned to the microphone, I looked all the way up and back and I thought, 'That's where I'd be-way up there under one of those rafters, close to the ceiling, after I paid my $2 to come into the place.'" "There was like a hush over the whole place when I came on to sing Happy Birthday-like if I had been wearing a slip, I would have thought it was showing, or something. I thought, 'Oh my gosh, what if no sound comes out...' I remember when I turned to the microphone, I looked all the way up and back and I thought, 'That's where I'd be-way up there under one of those rafters, close to the ceiling, after I paid my $2 to come into the place.'"

Making her performance that night as provocative as possible was definitely an odd choice for Marilyn, especially if one considers her career up until that point. How many years had she spent complaining about her dumb-blonde image? How many fights had she waged against 20th Century-Fox for roles that would break her from the mold? How many years had she spent studying acting so that she could be revealed as a different kind of performer? Why, one has to wonder, did she decide to throw away any chance she would ever have of being thought of in a different way and appear on this very important, high-profile night as the very character she had worked so hard to bury? She certainly wasn't doing the "dumb, s.e.xy blonde" act in Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give, the movie she was currently making, so we know she was doing serious work. It was a choice. Most people in her circle were unhappy about it. During a rehearsal of her song, Paula Strasberg said, "It keeps getting s.e.xier and s.e.xier. If she doesn't stop, it will be a parody." In fact, Richard Adler, who had written the special lyrics for the "Thanks for the Memories" part of the medley, was so uncomfortable about Marilyn's presentation, he called Peter Lawford about it. Lawford called JFK and told him, "Marilyn's going to be over-the-top s.e.xy." JFK's reaction? "Sounds good to me." There was nothing anyone could say to Marilyn that would encourage her to tone it down.

Based on the footage we've all seen over the years from this evening, it would appear that Marilyn is extremely far from the president as she performs for him. Engulfed in blackness, she seems to be gazing into a great void. We've never actually seen whatever was in front of her. Actually, less than a foot away from her was the orchestra pit with about twelve musicians in it, all in tuxes and looking up at her with big smiles on their faces. Behind them was a walkway that was about two feet wide. Then, directly behind that, was the first row with the president sitting directly in front of Marilyn. In all, he's not more than about twelve feet away from her. According to people who were present, he at first seemed a bit thunderstruck by Marilyn's appearance, but then quite happy-not embarra.s.sed, as other accounts have had it. For his part, Bobby-in the third row-grinned like a Cheshire cat. Ethel-in the second row sitting in front of her husband-also looked happy. In fact, judging from photos of her as she watched Marilyn, she seems as if she couldn't have been enjoying it more. However, Pat, in these same photos, looks more concerned than anything else.

Jeanne Martin, seated in the VIP section of Madison Square Garden, says she watched with horrified fascination. "To be really honest, as much as I loved Marilyn, I thought it was the height of distastefulness," she said. "Nothing against Marilyn. She was being Marilyn, doing what Marilyn does. She couldn't be blamed for being herself.

"I remember squirming in my seat and turning away, but you also couldn't help but watch," said Martin. "It was such a spectacle. The footage we've all seen doesn't do it justice. In person, it was pretty shocking, especially for the times. For Bobby to organize this thing and for the president to sit there and allow it, well, I must say, I thought at the time that it was very disrespectful to the presidency, and also to the First Lady. I remember thinking, 'My G.o.d, what if Jackie sees this? What will she think?' "

Jackie was not present. Her absence made quite a statement. After all, she was the First Lady, it was the president's birthday celebration, and the event would be broadcast on television. That she decided to absent herself spoke volumes about how she felt about the situation regarding her husband and the movie star. She knew about it, and was annoyed by it. In fact, she told her Secret Service agent Clinton Hill, "I'm not going to sit and watch that. If you ask me, I think this administration is completely out of control with all of this Marilyn business." Hill had no opinion on the matter, or at least not one that he would think to tell the First Lady. After an awkward silence, Jackie may have realized that she'd gone too far by expressing her own view of the matter because she told him, "Forget I ever said that, please." * *

"I can now retire from politics after having had Happy Birthday sung to me in such a sweet, wholesome way," Kennedy said when taking the podium after Marilyn. Was he joking? Or being sarcastic?

"I hurt for her," Susan Strasberg said of Marilyn that night. "From what she'd told me, each time she caricatured herself, she chipped a piece out of her own dream." Susan's father, Lee-Marilyn's acting coach-must have known it would be difficult to sit through such a performance because he refused to attend.

After the performance, there was a small party hosted by Arthur Krim, president of United Artists, and his wife, Mathilde, a scientist who would later be known for her work in the fight against AIDS. Marilyn, Bobby, and JFK were in attendance. Anthony Sherman was one of the Secret Service agents at work that night. He recalled, "Oh, boy! I'll never forget that night. I was a.s.signed at the checkpoint at the private home where the party took place. I remember the car pulling up very vividly and the door opened and out walked this unbelievably beautiful woman, Marilyn Monroe, with this older man [Isadore Miller, Arthur's father and Marilyn's "date" for the evening-a man she adored and called "Dad"]. She had on this dress-or whatever it was-it was more like a see-through thing-that she, apparently, had worn on stage. What a knockout. Everyone was stopped dead in their tracks as she got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. She walked up to me, I had a list of people who had been invited, and she said, 'h.e.l.lo, sir. I'm Marilyn Monroe.' And I stood there thinking, you're Marilyn Monroe, all right. We smiled and as I let her pa.s.s, I thought, wow. I was working for the president of the United States so every moment was history. But this? This This, for me, was history."

At the party, Marilyn walked up to the president and said, "This is my former father-in-law, Isadore Miller." Then, embarra.s.sed for a second, she said, "I'm so sorry. I should have said, 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President,' but I was so excited about Dad, I introduced him first." It was an odd encounter. It was that impersonal, as though Marilyn and Jack didn't really know each other at all. Marilyn spent maybe five minutes with JFK and Bobby, if that long. For the rest of the party, she doted on her former father-in-law. Seventy-seven years old, he was tired; she managed to get him a chair. "Sit down, Dad, please," she begged him. Then she knelt beside him to talk. He later recalled, "She was very beautiful."

"It's certainly her beauty I remember most," recalled Diahann Carroll, who performed at the Krim party. "As I sang, I distinctly remember being somewhat distracted by her gaze. Her tragic beauty, so vulnerable... so lost."

It has been reported numerous times over the years-thanks to the FBI's report of the evening in its files-that Marilyn spent the night with JFK at the Carlyle Hotel after the show. Even more sensationally, it's also been even reported that after JFK was finished with her, he sent her over to the room next door where she then had s.e.x with Bobby. Marilyn's actual itinerary that night was as follows: The show started at 8 p.m. Marilyn didn't get onstage until at least one o'clock, being the thirty-fifth of thirty-nine appearances made onstage that night. Then she went to the Krim party with Isadore Miller. Afterward, she accompanied him to his home in Brooklyn. She kissed him goodbye at the elevator and began to walk away. He recalled that just before he got into the elevator, she turned around and said, "Dad, come back to the coast with me tomorrow." He smiled. "Later, Marilyn," he promised. "Maybe in November." She blew him a kiss and walked away-and that would be the last time he would ever see her. She got home at about four in the morning, where she was met by her friend James Haspiel, who had earlier attended the performance. He recalled, "I looked at Marilyn, not knowing that this would be our last time together. Now she wasn't on stage, she was here just at arm's length away from me, and I could touch her. Her face was incredibly beautiful, movingly vulnerable. Her hair looked like white spun gold. My eyes descended to the rhinestone-like gems sewn onto her dazzling gown, now eliciting flickers of light, those beams bouncing off the flesh colored material encasing her magnificent body."

One might argue that somewhere between dropping off Isadore Miller and meeting up with James Haspiel, Marilyn could have slipped off for a quick interlude at the Carlyle with JFK... but all of my years of research indicate that this did not happen.

That said, Marilyn did not do a very good job of hiding her feelings for the commander in chief. Rupert Allan, who was present at the after-party, recalled, "When Marilyn finally moved close to the president, I suddenly realized that she had fallen in love with him. It frightened me because I knew Marilyn never did anything by halves."

Neither did Jackie Kennedy, apparently. In fact, multiple sources now report that Jackie made it clear to JFK that she was unhappy about the Madison Square Garden performance and that if he didn't a.s.sure her that it was truly over with Marilyn, she would take action. She threatened to file for divorce immediately before the next presidential campaign, thereby jeopardizing his chances of being reelected. "Oh, and she meant business," said George Smathers. "She wasn't fooling around. But Jack was already done with Marilyn, anyway, by that time. He had this other girl named Mary Meyer he was playing around with, and there was always Judith Exner... and there were others, one of whom was rumored to be [actress] Angie d.i.c.kinson. His view of Marilyn was that she was a very sweet girl, but to him sweet girls were a dime a dozen. There was no shortage of sweet girls in his life, and Marilyn was trouble. She began to ask for opportunities to come to Washington, come to the White House, that sort of thing. So, he told Jackie, 'Look, it really is over. It was nothing, anyway.' I don't know if she believed him."

PART NINE.

Sad Endings

Marilyn Fired.

When Marilyn Monroe returned to Los Angeles, she was scheduled to get back to work on the set of Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give. However, Dean Martin had a cold that day-May 29, 1962-and Marilyn felt that if she caught it she would not be able to work for the rest of the week, so she stayed home. "That, to me, was the funniest G.o.dd.a.m.n thing in the world," said Mort Viner, Dean Martin's manager. "This girl is home almost every day with some crazy sickness holding up the whole production. Then, the one day Dean has a cold, he goes to work anyway because he doesn't want to let the cast down-and she she doesn't show up because she doesn't want to catch his cold? That night, Dean and I had a good laugh about it. Dean said, 'She's got some nerve that one, you gotta hand it to her. When she doesn't want to work, she will find a way to not work.' " doesn't show up because she doesn't want to catch his cold? That night, Dean and I had a good laugh about it. Dean said, 'She's got some nerve that one, you gotta hand it to her. When she doesn't want to work, she will find a way to not work.' "

Marilyn did return to the studio the next day for what turned out to be an incredible day of shooting a nude scene in a swimming pool. It was the first time an American actress had ever done such a thing, and of course, it would be Marilyn doing it. The plan had been for her to wear a skin-colored bodysuit. However, she lasted a very short time in it until she took it off and decided to just be nude. The set was closed, however, with only those most required to be there allowed access. Footage from that day's work reveals her to be in good spirits. Her body, toned and voluptuous, probably never looked better. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, certainly not a woman on the verge of turning thirty-six. Monroe historian Charles Casillo astutely observes, "It was part of the schizophrenic, contradictory view she had of herself at the time. Part of her was ready, even eager, to move into serious roles, yet another part of her realized what was still expected of her. She'd have to transcend gradually into the new image while still having to occasionally play to the legend. So if displaying her calendar girl figure would add a little fire to a mediocre movie and keep the public interested-buy her some more time-then she was willing. G.o.d, she felt like she needed a hit."

Her friend the acting coach Michael Shaw, twenty-two at this time, saw her at the Fox studio and his comments show that Marilyn, when she did manage to get to the studio, was a pro: "I was studying with [acting coach] Sandy [Meisner] on the 20th lot and Marilyn came up to me in the parking lot, and said, 'Peaches'-that's what she called me-'why don't we meet and have lunch,' " he recalled. "She was wearing a pair of pedal pushers and a pair of flat shoes and a scarf and n.o.body paid her the slightest bit of attention because she looked like she was fourteen! She went to her dressing room, and said, 'Well, time to put her together.' She went into her dressing room and about forty minutes later... Marilyn Monroe Marilyn Monroe walked out. It was just a total transformation. walked out. It was just a total transformation. * *

"So, we walked into the commissary. She stood in the doorway as we were waiting to go into the private section of the dining room. All of a sudden there was total, complete silence. People were in the process of eating. They had forks of food halfway up to their mouths and they stopped. She was such a knockout. She looked so great. She had lost weight, in the best health that I had seen. We had lunch. She seemed very excited about Joe DiMaggio again. I wanted to meet him. I had met him very informally. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I was a big DiMaggio fan. She said, 'Well, then, we've got to have you over for dinner when I'm cooking...'

"Then, I guess it must have been a week or so later, a few of my cla.s.smates, we were at lunch in the commissary. Marilyn came in. She was wearing pink-and-white Capri pants with a matching top with a little white lace eyelet around the neck and the sleeve. She also had on white ballet slippers. She came over and greeted me with 'Peaches!' And she pulled me back in the chair, planted a big one on my mouth, and said, 'I love love this guy!' Of course, I felt like a half million dollars! And, that was the last time I ever saw her." this guy!' Of course, I felt like a half million dollars! And, that was the last time I ever saw her."

On Monday, May 28, Marilyn called in sick, again. Apparently, she'd had a very difficult weekend. It's not known what happened, but any hope that she would be able to continue the kind of good work she'd done the last time she was at the studio was dashed. When she returned on Tuesday, she was in terrible shape, not really able to concentrate. Her thirty-sixth birthday was on June 1. There was a birthday cake for her on the set, which she appreciated, and that afternoon she made a charity appearance at Dodger Stadium. When she went home that night, things spiraled further downward. Later that night, Marilyn showed up at the Greensons' home in such bad shape, his children didn't know what to do with her. Dr. Greenson and his wife, Hildy, were on vacation in Rome.

"This woman was desperate," Greenson's son Danny recalled. "She couldn't sleep and she said how terrible she felt about herself, how worthless she felt. She talked about being a waif, that she was ugly, that people were only nice to her for what they could get from her. She said life wasn't worth living anymore."

The doctor that Greenson had asked to cover for him while he was out of town rushed over to the house and felt that Marilyn was suicidal. He attempted to confiscate any pills she had and hoped she would be okay long enough for Dr. Greenson to return, which he did as soon as he heard how poorly his star client was faring.

After she missed yet another day of work, the cast and crew of the film were pretty much finished with her. Dr. Greenson met with the Fox executives to tell them that Marilyn would do whatever he wanted her to do, and he could guarantee that she would return to work. He wasn't believed. On June 8, Fox fired her from the film and then filed a half-million-dollar lawsuit against her. Some thought it was George Cukor the studio should have gotten rid of, and perhaps with him gone Marilyn would have shown up for work. It was difficult to say, though, because she was so removed from reality at this time-especially off her Thorazine-that all bets were off. For instance, she wanted Cyd Charisse's hair dyed a darker color since, in her view, there should only be one blonde in the movie and Charisse "unconscious wants it [her own hair] to be blonde." Even more outrageous, Marilyn viewed the rushes of a bedroom scene between Dean Martin and Charisse, wearing a revealing negligee. She accused the actress of padding her bra and threatened to walk off the picture if the padding was not removed. It was another instance where Monroe's paranoia surfaced; Cyd Charisse's bra was not padded. In the end, Marilyn had showed up for only about a third of the movie's production days thus far. The film was a million dollars over budget.

Naturally, Marilyn was upset about being fired. In her view she had been loyal to 20th Century-Fox for sixteen years and was now being treated without regard for the legitimate problems she faced in her life. In Fox's view, those had not been sixteen good years. Yes, she made a great deal of money for the studio-and, truly, was underpaid in a way that even today seems shocking-but almost every movie she ever made caused so many problems for everyone involved that some people had begun to wonder if she were worth it. Of course, the same could be said for Elizabeth Taylor and practically every other actor and actress working in the business at that time. That said, Marilyn was a woman whose aspirations had always been very basic. All she ever wanted was to be an actress and to be good at it. Oh... and she wanted to be famous. That was about it. There was never a monetary motivation. Money and prestige meant pretty much nothing to her. The modest house she'd just bought is evidence of her simple and, really, very charming taste. How her dreams got so screwed up was probably beyond her comprehension at this time, especially given her mental illness.

Marilyn wouldn't take it all without a fight, though. As soon as she was dismissed, she began to orchestrate a major campaign to make sure the public knew she was alive and well. Her public relations venture included a cover story in Life Life magazine that was, no doubt, the best and most thought-provoking interview she'd ever given. Richard Merryman had told her that he wanted to discuss not only the legend of Monroe, but also the woman. In what now seems like an eerily prescient moment, Marilyn quipped, "The legend may become extinct before publication day. Not the woman, but the legend." magazine that was, no doubt, the best and most thought-provoking interview she'd ever given. Richard Merryman had told her that he wanted to discuss not only the legend of Monroe, but also the woman. In what now seems like an eerily prescient moment, Marilyn quipped, "The legend may become extinct before publication day. Not the woman, but the legend."

Reading the article today, one senses that Marilyn was such a nice, decent person, it makes her travails all the more tragic. She certainly wasn't one of those celebrities who resented her success or her popularity. About her public, she told Life Life magazine's Merryman, "In the morning the garbage men that go by 57th Street when I come out the door say, 'Marilyn, hi! How do you feel this morning?' To me, it's an honor, and I love them for it. The workingmen-I'll go by and they'll whistle. At first, they whistle because they think, oh. It's a girl, she's got blonde hair and she's not out of shape, and then they say, 'Gosh, it's Marilyn Monroe!' And that has its-you know, those are the times it's nice, people knowing who you are and all of that, and feeling that you've meant something to them." magazine's Merryman, "In the morning the garbage men that go by 57th Street when I come out the door say, 'Marilyn, hi! How do you feel this morning?' To me, it's an honor, and I love them for it. The workingmen-I'll go by and they'll whistle. At first, they whistle because they think, oh. It's a girl, she's got blonde hair and she's not out of shape, and then they say, 'Gosh, it's Marilyn Monroe!' And that has its-you know, those are the times it's nice, people knowing who you are and all of that, and feeling that you've meant something to them."

Of course, Marilyn being Marilyn, she also couldn't resist the dramatic "exaggeration," like this one: "Some of my foster families used to send me to the movies to get me out of the house and there I'd sit all day and way into the night-up in front, there with the screen so big, a little kid all alone, and I loved it." That likely never happened. But it's a nice image, anyway.

However, regarding her feelings for Fox, she was very clear: "I think that when you are famous, every weakness is exaggerated. This industry should behave like a mother whose child has just run out in front of a car. But instead of clasping the child to them, they start punishing the child. Like don't you dare get a cold-how dare you get a cold! The executives can get colds and stay home forever, but how dare you, the actor, get a cold? You know, no one feels worse than the one who's sick. I wish they had to act a comedy with a temperature and a virus infection. I am not an actress who appears at a studio just for the purpose of discipline. This doesn't have anything to do with art. I myself would like to become more disciplined within my work. But I'm there to give a performance and not be disciplined by a studio! After all, I'm not in military school. This is supposed to be an art form not just a manufacturing establishment. The sensitivity that helps me to act also makes me react. An actor is supposed to be a sensitive instrument. Isaac Stern takes good care of his violin. What if everybody jumped on his violin?"

She would also do her first layout for Vogue Vogue, with excellent photos by Bert Stern. It must have rankled her, though, that he wanted her to pose nude. She was trying to break away from that cheesecake image, or so she kept saying. Was she really, though? After the skinny-dip scene in Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give... maybe not. It's clear that she was very confused at this point as to what her image was to be, and where she should draw the line. Some of the partially nude shots she took with Stern are stunning, though. Others, not so much. In those, she definitely looks exhausted, troubled, and not well. She even looks older older, and that that was unusual for her. She ended up doing more shots for was unusual for her. She ended up doing more shots for Vogue Vogue, these in high-fashion wear and in moody black-and-white. However, even in that sitting, Stern somehow managed to get her to take off her clothes for more nude shots, this time draped with a sheet in a hotel bed. In the end, Vogue Vogue chose to publish the black-and-white fashion shots-a very wise (and gracious) choice. chose to publish the black-and-white fashion shots-a very wise (and gracious) choice.

As for the movie? The studio decided to replace Marilyn in Something's Got to Give Something's Got to Give with actress Lee Remick. "That was the end of it as far as Dean was concerned," said Mort Viner. "He called me and said, 'Get me the h.e.l.l out of this movie. Jesus Christ, this is the biggest three-ring circus in show business and I'm the clown in the middle of it all.' So we referenced a clause in his deal that said he would only work with Marilyn. And he quit the film saying, 'No Marilyn. No Dean.' It was bulls.h.i.t, really. The real reason is that he didn't want to start over with another actress and do all that work, again, on a movie that was not that great to begin with. He felt bad for the crew. A lot of people worked hard on that G.o.dd.a.m.n movie. It was a shame. But it was jinxed from the start. On the very first day she didn't show up for work, the very first day, Dean said, 'That's it. This picture will not get made.' " with actress Lee Remick. "That was the end of it as far as Dean was concerned," said Mort Viner. "He called me and said, 'Get me the h.e.l.l out of this movie. Jesus Christ, this is the biggest three-ring circus in show business and I'm the clown in the middle of it all.' So we referenced a clause in his deal that said he would only work with Marilyn. And he quit the film saying, 'No Marilyn. No Dean.' It was bulls.h.i.t, really. The real reason is that he didn't want to start over with another actress and do all that work, again, on a movie that was not that great to begin with. He felt bad for the crew. A lot of people worked hard on that G.o.dd.a.m.n movie. It was a shame. But it was jinxed from the start. On the very first day she didn't show up for work, the very first day, Dean said, 'That's it. This picture will not get made.' "

In 1995, Dean Martin recalled, "I met Marilyn in 1953, before she met Frank, before she met Peter, before she knew any of us. I met her before she was all screwed up, so I knew what she was like then and what she had become, and I felt badly for the kid. At the same time, I was a little tired of all the bulls.h.i.t. There was only so much you could take. In fact, no one had an easy life. We were all screwed up in our own ways. We all had problems. We were all doing drugs, let's face it. I was no saint, either. But I showed up for work. You had to show up for work. That was the priority. You had to be glad you had a job and you had to show up for work. I'm not saying she wasn't sick all of those days. Who knows? I wasn't following her around like the FBI, I was just sitting on my a.s.s waiting for her to show up at the studio. So, when I had my chance to get out, I did. However, the few scenes we did, I enjoyed, but getting to them... oh my G.o.d, I mean, the takes, one after the other, it would drive any man crazy. But... look... I liked her. She was a good kid. But when you looked into her eyes, there was nothing there. No warmth. No life. It was all illusion. She looked great on film, yeah. But in person... she was a ghost."

Gladys: "I Don't Say Goodbye"

When she first moved back to Los Angeles from New York, Marilyn was excited to rebuild the life she once lived in the sunnier, more tranquil locale. Yet there were elements to her life that had drastically changed since she last resided in California. Certainly, the difficult times she endured in recent weeks had made her even more famous than ever before-but for the wrong reasons. The public had already been made aware of her admittance to the mental hospital in New York, and now, as a result of her being fired from the movie, there was growing interest in her emotional state. Worse, her daily trips to see Dr. Ralph Greenson were now being noticed by some members of the press and even fans who had begun following her every move.

Her time with Dr. Greenson-controversial as it was, even back then-had begun with a certain amount of frustration. While in New York, and under the care of numerous physicians there, Marilyn had come to believe that a certain pharmaceutical had been helpful in stabilizing her: Thorazine. It had begun to represent hope to her that she might be able to regain control of her often chaotic thought processes. Yet when Dr. Greenson heard Marilyn's request for Thorazine, for some reason, he refused. Greenson had quickly become the one doctor Marilyn would trust and speak with openly, and he served that purpose well. Yet he knew all too well that Marilyn would at times have her own agenda when it came to her chemical treatment. It may have simply been that she was asking for more than he would have recommended, or that he didn't want her to take it at all-but it was clear to her that she would need to find this wonder drug elsewhere, especially when her Los Angeles physician, Dr. Hyman Engelberg, also refused to prescribe it to her. Therefore, Marilyn continued her doctor-shopping ways with medics she had seen previously, most of whom had been starstruck by her and had given her whatever prescription drugs she requested.

"She was waiting in the lobby," recalls one of the doctors to whom she had paid a visit during the summer of 1962. "I guess she had her head down in a magazine as the last client of the day left, and then she just walked right into the office. She was a knockout-lots of teased-out blonde hair... red lipstick. I remember she was wearing a cream-colored coat that looked like satin to me. She had on a white dress and I specifically remember that she was wearing white stilettos. I mean, she was dressed to kill in all-white. Very impressive... very movie star."

Though Marilyn would address this doctor by the name of his previous employer-making it clear that she had so many doctors she didn't even remember what they looked like!-it would quickly become apparent that he was a total stranger to her. Indeed, the man who had previously treated Marilyn had died and the one who now stood before her was his protege and successor, the much younger Dr. Schwartz. * *

"I knew her immediately, of course," says the doctor, "and I even knew that she had seen [the deceased doctor] for a time. I had only been an intern for a short time before he died. There was no one to continue his practice, so his wife asked me to stay on and at least help some patients through the transition.

"She wanted Thorazine," explains Dr. Schwartz. "I was wary of taking her on as a patient. Most doctors were afraid of treating a famous patient who had been suspected of attempting suicide. No one wants to be mentioned in a patient's obituary as their last doctor."

Though Marilyn persisted in trying to convince the young doctor that her experience with Thorazine had been a positive one, he was still reluctant. "When you're fresh out of med school you're under real scrutiny," he explains, "overprescribing could get you into all kinds of trouble. Not with the authorities so much, but it can leave a doctor with a bunch of drug-dependent patients. Some doctors would like that, because it kept people coming back-but I didn't [like it]."

Marilyn spent some time detailing her need for confidentiality -which made it easier for this young doctor to help her. While he refuses to detail what financial arrangements the two made, he doesn't deny that he was compensated for the services he would provide. "There were a bunch of old prescription pads [from the deceased doctor]," Schwartz explains, "and since she wanted them [the prescriptions] written to a pseudonym anyway... I just did it. I wasn't just doing it for the money, though. She actually seemed to be making sense to me. She convinced me it was in her best interest."

The young doctor was rightfully anxious about his dealings with Marilyn Monroe, and so when he received a phone call from her a few weeks later, he was leery of further involvement. Despite his concern, though, she seemed to be doing well. "She said she felt better than she had in ages, and asked how much I charged for a house call," explains Schwartz. "I told her I wouldn't visit her at home but she said that she didn't want me to. She wanted me to go with her to see her mother."

Marilyn's mother, Gladys, was at this time still being cared for at Rock Haven Sanitarium in La Crescenta, about a thirty-minute drive from Marilyn's home and Schwartz's office. Marilyn wanted the doctor to meet her there to try to convince Gladys, and also her doctors, that Thorazine could be an effective treatment for her. Again, after an undisclosed financial arrangement, Schwartz agreed to meet her at Rock Haven.

"When I got to Rock Haven, the front desk was empty, which is unusual in such a place," Schwartz recalls, "then I turned and looked down a hallway and all of the staff seemed to be congregated in one area. I knew she-Marilyn-was already there."

As odd as it may seem, Marilyn was actually early for the appointment. Schwartz found her-cloaked by a black-and-white scarf and wearing black-checkered pants-sitting across from an administrator and two doctors on staff. She seemed upbeat and hopeful-at least at first. (Note: These well could have been the "famous" black-and-white-checkered JAX pants worn by Marilyn in countless photos. She owned them for at least twenty years-even in photo sessions as Norma Jeane-and wore them very often.) "Guess what? She's already taking it," Marilyn told Schwartz as he approached. "Thorazine," Marilyn added with a big smile. "Mother has been on it for a while."

"She's being given given it, anyway," clarified one of the physicians present. it, anyway," clarified one of the physicians present.

"What does that mean?" asked Marilyn.

The doctor then explained something that Marilyn already knew, that Gladys was a very stubborn woman. It seemed that the staff had often caught her attempting to avoid taking her medication. Marilyn said that she didn't understand how that was possible. She thought a nurse would have stood in front of Gladys and waited while she took her pills. It turned out that a member of the staff would would witness her pop the pills into her mouth, and would even wait while she drank a cup of water. Gladys would even be told to open her mouth to show that it was empty. However, she seemed to have mastered the ability to quickly tuck her pills between her teeth and inner cheek. That was at least what the staff a.s.sumed, since she seemed relatively unaffected by any of the drugs she was supposed to be taking. "She can't do that," Marilyn said, "you just can't witness her pop the pills into her mouth, and would even wait while she drank a cup of water. Gladys would even be told to open her mouth to show that it was empty. However, she seemed to have mastered the ability to quickly tuck her pills between her teeth and inner cheek. That was at least what the staff a.s.sumed, since she seemed relatively unaffected by any of the drugs she was supposed to be taking. "She can't do that," Marilyn said, "you just can't let let her." The doctor told her that it happened all the time. When he questioned Gladys about it, he said, she told him that the one or two times she actually took the medication, it stopped the voices in her head, "and then she missed them." Therefore, she wouldn't take the medication, and, he concluded, "if someone doesn't want help, they won't her." The doctor told her that it happened all the time. When he questioned Gladys about it, he said, she told him that the one or two times she actually took the medication, it stopped the voices in her head, "and then she missed them." Therefore, she wouldn't take the medication, and, he concluded, "if someone doesn't want help, they won't get get any." any."

That statement angered Marilyn. "She isn't well enough to know know she wants help," she said. "Why don't you give her injections of it? She can't spit those out." she wants help," she said. "Why don't you give her injections of it? She can't spit those out."

The doctors seemed to find that proposal absurd. Marilyn was told that the staff did not administer drugs intravenously at that facility. If a patient needed that kind of care, she was told, then she needed to be somewhere else. "Then she will will be," Marilyn threatened. "Just tell me where to take her." be," Marilyn threatened. "Just tell me where to take her."

It was then that one of the other doctors told Marilyn that Gladys had indeed been moved to other facilities numerous times, after episodes of extreme violence or threats of suicide. However, once her mother showed improvement, after having been given intravenous medication for a few days, she would always be released back to Rock Haven. He said he was surprised that Marilyn didn't know about this. Perhaps he was referring to Gladys's recent suicide attempt. "Not as surprised as I am," Marilyn said, now very upset.

"You wouldn't want her spending the rest of her life in a hospital, would you?" he asked.

"What do you call this?" Marilyn shot back.

"To your mother," he answered, "it's home."

Marilyn didn't know how to respond to that.

According to Dr. Schwartz's memory, Marilyn was most unhappy with the staff's blase att.i.tude about Gladys's avoidance of treatment. Also, it's likely their description of a couple of her stays in two other facilities reminded Marilyn of her own experience at Payne Whitney. The last thing she wanted to do was make Gladys's life more difficult. Therefore she decided that she would not remove her mother from Rock Haven but would instead at least make an attempt at personally convincing her to take her medication.

Marilyn and Dr. Schwartz were then led out to the grounds by a nurse. He remembers the facility as being surprisingly bucolic, with sprawling, well-manicured lawns and numerous oak-tree-shaded areas in which patients could relax and roam. They found Gladys sitting at a picnic table, wearing a fur stole around her neck. She was a small-boned, frail woman now, with silver hair pulled back from her face and tied in a small knot with what appeared to be a simple rubber band. The doctor recalls thinking that she looked very much like what he might imagine Marilyn to look at age sixty-two. Moreover, he would also recall Marilyn later confessing that when she laid eyes on her mother she experienced a strong and unexpected feeling of bittersweet nostalgia sweeping through her. A large purse sat in front of Gladys on the table. It appeared as if she was searching inside it for something. Marilyn approached carefully. "Mother?"

"I'm here," Gladys said rather loudly, as if a nurse was taking attendance.

Marilyn sat across from her mother. "Mother, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine," she said. "This is Dr. Schwartz."

Dr. Schwartz distinctly remembers Gladys pulling her purse closer to her for a moment.

"You're new," Gladys said, eyeing the visitor suspiciously. Then, turning to her daughter, she said, "I don't know him."

Marilyn then explained to her mother that she and the doctor had come to tell her something very important. She looked to the doctor and said to him, "She won't listen to me, so you tell her."

There was an awkward moment as Marilyn waited for the doctor to tell Gladys why she should take her medication. "It was a little bizarre," he recalled, years later. "I wasn't a psychiatrist, I wasn't even her doctor, but [Marilyn] seemed desperate, so I did my best."

The doctor then spoke to Gladys about the importance of taking her pills, but it was mostly for Marilyn's benefit. As he spoke, Gladys continued rummaging through her purse. When he was finished, Gladys looked up at him and asked him if he were a doctor. He nodded. "Well, I'll say a prayer for you and you can say one for me," she said pointedly. "That's more powerful than anything. Norma Jeane knows that."

"No. Mother, no," Marilyn insisted. She then explained that perhaps they'd all been wrong about Christian Science since neither of them had thus far been healed by the religion. She said that she now believed they needed more than just faith-they also needed medication. Then she briefly explained that she too had lately endured some very difficult times-she was probably referring to her stay at Payne Whitney-and that she now truly believed that both of them would benefit from Thorazine.

Gladys listened intently until Marilyn stopped talking. Then Gladys looked at Schwartz. "I don't know what you've been filling this child's head with," she said, according to his memory of the conversation, "but Norma Jeane knows that the path to heaven is through prayer and devotion."

"But maybe these drugs are are an answer to your prayers," Marilyn said. " an answer to your prayers," Marilyn said. "Our prayers." She continued pleading with her mother so vehemently, so pa.s.sionately in fact, that she soon began to cry. "Can't you listen to me, just this once?" she said through her tears. She said that "after all of these years" she now finally realized how truly torturous Gladys's life had been and that she wanted to help her. "Please, I never ask you to do anything," she continued, "but I'm begging you now." prayers." She continued pleading with her mother so vehemently, so pa.s.sionately in fact, that she soon began to cry. "Can't you listen to me, just this once?" she said through her tears. She said that "after all of these years" she now finally realized how truly torturous Gladys's life had been and that she wanted to help her. "Please, I never ask you to do anything," she continued, "but I'm begging you now."

Gladys watched her daughter with a distant gaze. Finally, she asked Marilyn exactly what it was she wanted her to do. Marilyn said that all she wanted was for Gladys to take Thorazine for at least a week, or maybe even a month, if possible. "I know you'll feel better," Marilyn said.

"And then then what?" Gladys asked. what?" Gladys asked.

"Then you can leave here," Marilyn answered, "and get your life back."