ss1947

Here’s one from Silver Screen magazine in 1947. This article seems to be the result of the author’s editor saying, “We need a story on Gable!” and the author couldn’t, or didn’t have time to, have an interview with Clark so instead hashed together a bunch of random anecdotes to prove their point that Clark’s still the King of Hollywood. Well, it’s interesting anyway.

…there was one character in England who wasn’t in the least awed by Captain Gable’s efficient tone and manner. This was a tom cat named Freddy. Freddy was about two cats long and three cats high, with the coat of a silver fox, and the courage of a bill. He had to be tough because he was in full charge of the local rat situation, which almost got out of hand when the rats, in pairs, began to carry off foot lockers.

Freddy made few friends among military personnel on the premise that he was the sworn enemy of rats so he couldn’t be too careful. However, he came marching up to Clark one day, making noises like a Model A on a 20 degree grade, and rubbed his back against the Captain’s O.D.’s. Clark leaned down and expertly rubbed the back of Freddy’s ears, following this with a Swedish massage along Freddy’s backbone.

That did it. From then on Freddy slept on the foot of Clark’s bed, a colossal boon during the bitter winter months.

 

Cute little story. He really was an animal person. What a lucky cat…

Clark Gable’s salient trait, immediately pointed out by his best friends, is his great personal dignity. He is one of the few world-famous people who can go to New York without suffering a contused person and a tattered wardrobe. He never gives autographs, a fact so widely known among the pen-scream-and-notebook clan, that he is never pestered. He can stroll out of a hotel lobby and wait for the doorman to call a taxi without having his way blocked and his plans halted for hours, but he does it with such reliance upon the decency of his fans that they love him more than ever for his courteous aloofness.  

Um…that is completely false. Clark was always gracious about autographs and would give them out pretty much to anyone who asked, as long as they didn’t invade his personal space and was polite.

Still told with relish in Hollywood circles is the story about Clark Gable and the rest of the “Gone with the Wind” cast stopping at a metropolitan airport on their way to Atlanta for the picture’s premiere. The airport was mobbed by thousands of howling, screaming fans, fighting for places from which they could glimpse a billion dollars worth of acting talent.  The tour supervisor, blanching at sight of the roaring mob, closed the plane door with the stark statement, ‘We don’t dare get out of the plane. We’ll be torn to pieces.”

“I want some coffee, and I’m going to get it in the terminal,” said Rhett B. Gable. He stepped to the plane door, cupped his mouth, and said, “Folks, we have just ten minutes to get a cup of coffee, before we have to take off. Now you aren’t going to keep us from getting a cup of coffee, are you?” A path through the throng opened up as if dissolved by a ray gun, and the cast had their coffee, unmolested, in the terminal lunch room. Incidentally, there was more coffee in the saucers than in the cups because of the waitresses’ excitement.

Well, this story isn’t true. Clark and Carole arrived on a plane by themselves after the rest of the main cast.

A neighbor of the Gables, who moved into a nearby ranch after Clark had gone to war, likes to tell this story. Mr. Gable, Sr., struck up a friendship with this neighbor, who is also a camellia-fancier. The whole thing happened so casually that only first names were exchanged, along with slips for different plants.

One Sunday the householder met Bill Gable at the local drugstore and commented on the war news, saying, “My wife and I worry a good deal. Our boy is in the South Pacific.”

Bill Gable nodded understandingly. “My son’s in service, too,” he acknowledged. “Eighth Air Force in England.”

After that the two fathers exchanged occasional war notes. The neighbor’s son was given rest leave in Australia. Bill’s boy went up to London. Came the day when the neighbor announced that his son was being reassigned. Answered Bill Gable, “Well, my kid’s home, finally. I imagine you saw his picture in the paper this morning. He’s going to be discharged as a major. Yes sir, Major Clark Gable.”

The neighbor felt like one of those comic strip characters whose eyes become crossed, and whose feet disappear out of the picture accompanied by exclamation points.

That’s too funny. Clark’s father never really approved of his profession, but he was most proud of his son’s military service.

Read the article in its entirety in The Article Archive.