Barbara La Marr by Sherri Snyder;

Author:Sherri Snyder;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University Press of Kentucky
Published: 2017-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Cuddling her boy during a break in filming The Eternal Struggle. Photo by J. C. Milligan.

Spectacular views accompanied each residence, sweeping outward in all directions. Occupants gazed upon immaculately manicured lawns, lush shrubbery, and, in the distance, the gleaming Pacific Ocean. In planning for the vistas, telephone and power lines had been placed underground—an innovation in development. To maximize views of the glittering cityscape just beyond the foothills, the boulevards were lit each evening by the gentle glow of gas streetlamps.

By 1923, Whitley Heights was host to a colony of screen idols. Their glamorous lifestyles imbued the area with elegance; tales of their lavish parties grew to mythical proportions. It was rumored that a grand ballroom—accessible only through a secret passageway within various homes—existed inside one of the community’s hills. On a bright afternoon, a bus crammed with star-struck sightseers might be found looping along the hillside, the names of the neighborhood notables rippling through the air from a megaphone: Eleanor Boardman … Eugene O’Brien … Francis X. Bushman … Marie Dressler … Blanche Sweet … Rudolph Valentino …

Kingsley’s car stopped in front of a two-story sienna house, partly shaded beneath eucalyptus trees, at 6672 Whitley Terrace. It was the recently built home of one of the subdivision’s newer residents, Barbara La Marr. From the road, Kingsley descended the steps leading to the entry. It’s possible she noticed Barbara’s red Paige-Daytona convertible roadster—direct from one of the auto dealers Barbara met in Dallas—along the roadside.

The joyful pride Barbara felt for her house—the first true home she had known—was evident to Kingsley. The journalist hardly blamed her. “It’s a dream of a home,” Kingsley gushed.7 Inside the front entryway, a vaulted ceiling arched high above the living room. A fireplace and paintings adorned one wall. A domed window, inset with the letter “B” and French doors, extended across another. Through it, one could look down and see Valentino’s house; in another direction, gigantic letters spelling out HOLLYWOODLAND would soon be visible on the hill. The room was beautifully furnished, yet comfortably inviting. A baby grand piano stood in one corner, for the increasingly rare evenings when Barbara had time to play.

In keeping with the unconventional floor plans characteristic of Whitley Heights, three of the house’s four bedrooms were on the ground floor. Barbara’s bedroom was at the end of a hallway leading from the living room. Her haven after a trying day of filming, it was decorated in soft shades of blue and green. Her single bed was positioned beneath an airy window, and a chaise lounge—perfect for reading her books—rested at its foot.

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