Tag Archives: Dick Wick Hall

“A Genius Passed Away”

Posted on by
Reply

Encouraged by her father’s success with his now syndicated Salome Sun and his stories in the The Saturday Evening Post, “little Jane” kept on scribbling. During the fall and winter of 1925 – 1926, more of her poems were published and her biography of a little colt– told from his point of view– came out in the Los Angeles Times on December 3, 1925. Jane had high standards for herself and those around her. In a new red leather diary for 1926, she gave herself marching orders for the year.

1. Don’t be so saucy to Daddy.

2. Be more conciderate. [sic]

3. Don’t primp so much.

4. Help mother more.

Within a few months, Jane’s efforts attracted notice outside Salome. On a fortuitous Friday in late March—the 26th to be exact– the Yuma Morning Sun proclaimed in a small headline on its front page: “ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD SALOME GIRL IS WRITER OF FAIRYTALE WITH MOST IMPRESSIVE MORAL; SHOWS GENIUS.” “Up in Salome—made famous by Dick Wick Hall–,” the editorial comment began, “where the desert is just a little bit more desert than anywhere else in Arizona, there seems to be something in the air that produces a peculiar type of genius.” Jane’s composition followed. “How My Wish Was Granted” is a first-person tale of a melancholy little girl who has gone swimming in a small cove. Suddenly, the voice of a mermaid barely three inches high interrupts her thoughts. The mermaid grants her one wish and a mere twelve seconds to decide what it will be. The girl does not ask for anything extravagant but for a wreath of coral just like the one the mermaid has in her “dark lustrous hair.” The mermaid is so pleased at this modest request that she adds the gift of perfect happiness to the wreath. The little girl reveals, ” . . .the heavy sense of depression that I had for the last few days left me, suddenly, and I felt perfectly happy.”

But the mood in the Hall household had changed at the beginning of April. Dick Wick Hall had gone to Los Angeles for some tooth extractions and run up against severe complications. On April 13 he typed a note to his wife from the Hotel Hayward. He was desperately homesick; his eyes brimmed with tears when he found a rose that Daysie had left in his bag and a sweet note from Jane in his typewriter. The next day, Dick’s doctors discovered that he had acute kidney disease. Jane, her mother, her thirteen-year-old brother, Dickie, as well as her uncle, Ernie,* were at his bedside at the small Angeles Hospital when Dick Wick Hall died on Wednesday, April 28 at about one in the afternoon.

There was no question about where Dick would be buried. On Sunday, May 2, eight leather-skinned pallbearers carried his casket to a modest garden next to the office in Salome where Dick and his daughter had worked so diligently for much of her childhood. And there he would lie for generations to come next to a tall Saguaro. In the coming months, friends erected a small obelisk out of quartz and other local stone for a man whose quirky characters, sage advice and wry humor had given them a reason to smile. The town of Salome still celebrates “Dick Wick Hall Days” every autumn. And Jane Hall – whose journey had just begun – paid homage to the most important man in her life in the way she knew best.

To Daddy

When the blossom graced the cactus

And the fields were sweet with hay,

When the birds were singing in the trees,

A genius passed away.

 

In the joyous month of April

Just two days from merry May,

A man who made the whole world laugh

My father, passed away.

 

Of all the mortals in this world,

Our Lord has picked the best,

For on the 28th of April

My Daddy went to Rest.

 

*Ernest Hall, Dick’s younger brother, was Arizona’s third Secretary of State and occasional acting governor between 1921 and 1923.

PLEASE USE CONTACT TAB FOR QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS.

How Did Salome Become Famous?

Posted on by
Reply

Thomas Lansing Masson (1866-1934)  Mentor to the Hall Family

In this age of social networking and instant access to information, it’s hard to imagine life 90 years ago when it took a lot of patience and more than a little luck to put a tiny town like Salome, Arizona on the national map. That’s what happened when “The Salome Sun” came across the desk of editor, author and humorist Tom Masson. Born in Connecticut, he lived in New Jersey and worked in New York for most of his life. That didn’t discourage him from helping out a maverick in Arizona who poked fun of Easterners and Wall Street types in his desert news sheet. His enthusiasm gave everyone in Dick Wick Hall’s family hope – including little Jane – at a time when their chips were down. And what nobody knew until now – I certainly didn’t until I found some letters he wrote to Dick’s wife Daysie – was that Tom Masson became a spiritual mentor to the Halls even after Dick was no longer on this Earth in the material sense (as Masson would put it).

Dick’s lucky break came at some point in 1922 when a literary-minded traveler stopped in Salome and picked up some copies of the mimeographed “Sun.” He mentioned Dick Wick Hall to Masson who had just taken over as Editor of the “Short Turns and Encores” humor pages in The Saturday Evening Post. Masson came to The Post after twenty-nine years as Literary Editor and then Managing Editor of Life –the general interest magazine that Charles Dana Gibson took over when Masson went to The Post– not the photo journalism magazine Henry Luce launched in 1936. By then Masson had written several stories, articles and books; he was something of a sage. In Tom Masson’s Book of Wit and Humor (1927) he recounts how he “got the Salome Sun man” for his column.

Karl Harriman, Editor of The Red Book, told Masson about his recent trip to Arizona one night over dinner in New York City. He said, “There’s a fellow out there who has a frog that has never had a drink, although he seven years old.’” (Actually, the frog had never had a swim and could not have survived in Salome without a drink.) Masson was intrigued. Harriman told him all about Dick Wick Hall and his quirky little hamlet. He could hardly believe Harriman’s tale but wrote to Dick who before too long (and after more than one request according to Dick) sent him a pile of his work.

“As soon as his humor was featured in the Short Turns page,” Masson wrote, “he was approached by a lot of magazines and is now – well, almost a national character.” Dick’s first contribution to the “Short Turns” page came out on August 12, 1922. That fall excerpts of varying length from “The Salome Sun” appeared every week but, because Dick was preoccupied with his mines, only two appeared in 1923. Fourteen excerpts turned up in 1924 and three in 1925. Dick often signed these nuggets of desert humor and philosophy “Dick Wick Hall, Editor and Garage Owner.” According to Dick, The Post paid him $.25 a word “to copy and run” the segments from “The Salome Sun.”

Pretty soon Dick’s luck got even better. In the Twenties readers everywhere clamored for good fiction and for a mere five cents they could have a lot of it — on slick coated high-quality pages. By 1925, under long time editor George H. Lorimer, The Saturday Evening Post was one of the top mass-circulation magazines in the United States with more than two and three-quarter million readers. The welcome publicity for Salome increased once The Post also accepted Dick’s short stories. The first of these, “Salome – Where the Green Grass Grew,” came out on January 3, 1925. He was paid well and in good company with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ring Lardner, and William Faulkner to name a few. (Who knew that one day his daughter Jane would write in the office next to Fitzgerald at Metro.)

Masson also gave himself credit for energizing Dick’s and Daysie’s marriage: “One of the funniest things he [Dick] ever wrote was a private letter to me in which he said that his wife somehow never seemed to have much respect for him, but the day his stuff came out in The Post [sic] she said that after all she guessed he did have brains. I know that Dick won’t mind my telling this, because I happen to know that they’re both crazy about each other.”

More to come on Masson and the Halls. But first we’ll take another look soon on Jane’s progress and the loss of her father.

PLEASE USE THE CONTACT TAB AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE FOR ANY QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS

 

 

 

 

 

It All Started in Salome in 1925

Posted on by

On summer days Salome, Arizona was so hot, dry and shade free in the midday sun that its sand hills seemed to be populated only by greasewood and saguaro. The would-be town, which had a population of less than two dozen people, still sits in a valley framed on its northern edge by the Harcuvar and Harquahala mountains. Devoid of much vegetation, their orange, violet and grey contours changed by the hour as the sun moved across a cloudless sky. Clear air, inspiring vistas and above all precious minerals drew miners to the southwest end of the Harcuvar Range. Salome was near a railroad track but its residents waited expectantly for a paved road from Phoenix to Los Angeles. Dick Wick Hall fought hard for this road and he was sure that someday the town would be “Some Place.” His daughter, Jane, was far more convinced than her mother, Daysie, that it would be for she was captivated by the desert and by her father’s imagination.

Dick’s rustic office was a one-room adobe building with a mission-style desk and a Smith Premier typewriter that had “lost a Lot of Its Teeth.” There, when he was not writing to potential investors or urging Yuma County to Salome-Where She Dancedimprove the roads, he created unforgettable characters out of local personalities and creatures: horned lizards, Gila monsters, coyotes, jack rabbits, snakes, scorpions, and centipedes. A seven-year-old bull frog who could not swim and wore a canteen on his back would become the town’s mascot. (Even today the high school football team is “The Salome Frogs.”) When he had time, Dick used these characters in a compilation of local “news,” humor and philosophy spread out over two sides of a legal-sized mimeographed sheet and decorated with his rough sketches. He did this at first for his own amusement and certainly that of his children. His “Salome Sun” is full of anecdotes that poked fun at Eastern tourists, bankers, Wall Street, high society folks, Democrats, and even the town and its environs.

“Salomey Jane,” as he called her, often came into her father’s office to draw and write poems and stories of her own. She was delighted when her father brought her ink so she didn’t have to do all her work with a pencil. Soon he would teach her to use a typewriter and how to send out work that appealed to the editors of magazines and newspapers.

Outside in the sprawling desert landscape of the Arizona Outback barely a handful of buildings made up the town. One of these was a modest one-story wood house with a garden and porch on one side and a postage-size patch of green in the front. This was home to Jane and her small family. Behind the house, stretching twenty-three miles up into the mountains was her father’s one-of-a-kind “Greasewood Golf Lynx” that took 46 days to play with caddies on horseback—if you were lucky. For Jane this make-believe course was primarily a place to ride “Sunny Boy,” aka “The Killer,” a Cayuse pony that belonged to Mrs. Lillian (“Mike”) Thomas who was her “best friend” in the desert.  When she was not in the saddle, Jane played a fierce game of cards, excelled at miniature golf and loved to roast spuds and marshmallows. A fearless little girl, at least fifty percent tomboy, she took great pride in a brown leather pencil case embossed with the words “Outlaw Jane Salome Arizona.”

In 1925 her father’s work had become popular– excerpts from his small town news sheet and his stories were now featured in The Saturday Evening Post, one of the most successful magazines in America. But “Little Jane” was not about to be outdone by the father she adored. She’s joined the Junior Club of The Los Angeles Times which brought out work by young writers every Sunday on “Aunt Dolly’s Page.”

That summer she sent in her first story,”Bill’s Greatest Victory.” The protagonist is an eleven-year-old boy who learns to control his temper. But Jane was impatient. As she tells it: “Picture a little girl who was always scribbling away on a piece of paper, trying to write a story; but hardly ever succeeding, then imagine her sending a story to ‘Aunt Dolly’ and waiting, and waiting” for months with no word. Then suddenly the “most thrilling moment” of her short life occurred. The train from Los Angeles brought her a letter from The Times with a money order for $2.50. Her story came out on November 8; for ten-year-old Jane, the possibilities seemed endless.

See the Gallery for images of Dick’s Frog and The Salome Sun. The town is in the McMullen Valley in what is now La Paz County.

From Tomboy to Glamour Girl

Featured

Posted on by
Cosmopolitan Oct 1939
Jane Hall and Kate as pictured in “Beauties” by Bradshaw Crandell. Cosmopolitan Magazine, October 1939 (Copr. Hearst Publications)

WATCH FOR “NANCY GOES TO RIO” ON TCM . The film is a remake of ”It’s A Date” which Jane worked on in 1939. She kept her story and screen credit.

Here’s a bit of background for the posts and images in the  Salome to Hollywood Blog and Gallery. (Posts began on 11/16/2011.)  So who was Jane Hall and why is her journey of interest today?

“I was a candle on the President’s birthday cake!” On January 30, 1934 Jane Hall was exuberant as she whirled around the ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria at a pageant in honor of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s fifty-second birthday. For nineteen-year-old Jane, this Depression Era ball and other glamorous evenings like it were not just fun – they were research. Jane’s roots in Arizona and California had not prepared her for this world of eastern glitter. Just four years earlier she had been an orphan who knew what it meant to be heartbroken and hard up. But once she arrived in the nation’s cultural capital to live with her aunt and uncle, her life was transformed.

Like an undercover agent, she brought keen eyes and ears from the wide-open West into what appeared to be (but of course was not) a dream world. In his definitive history of Depression Era culture, Morris Dickstein refers to the “split personality” of the era as Americans confronted disaster and sought to “create art and entertainment to distract people from their trouble. . .”* Jane Hall did just that in her stories, essays and screenplays as she came to terms with the tragedies in her life.

Named a “literary prodigy” by at least two papers by the time she was fifteen, Jane’s work frequently appeared in print between 1925 and 1942. Her sharp wit and superb ear for authentic dialogue soon caught the notice of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. In October 1937 Metro offered her a contract as a scenarist and over the next five years she worked on several films. In August 1939, “These Glamour Girls,” which also became a book length novel for Cosmopolitan, opened in New York City – it was “the best social comedy of the year” according to the New York Times. And the film gave Lana Turner her first starring role. That same month Hall’s feature-length article about her visit to the set of “The Wizard of Oz,” received high praise from the editor and staff of Good Housekeeping . It seemed she was on her way.

Jane’s journey from a desert hamlet in Arizona to Manhattan’s Café Society and then to Hollywood is a story of resilience that is often exhilarating and always captivating. Her father, Dick Wick Hall, Arizona’s best-loved humorist in the mid 1920s, was the dominant influence on her until an unexpected illness cut his life short in April 1926. By then “Little Jane” had already decided she must become a writer; her work first appeared in the Los Angeles Times when she was ten.

As she reached twenty, literary magazines such as Good Housekeeping, The Saturday Evening Post and especially Cosmopolitan began buying her stories on a regular basis. In the middle of the Depression, Jane  wrote fiction with a twist of satire about the romantic predicaments of her socialite contemporaries. As editors soon learned, she was as much fun as the characters in her stories. But she had agonizing choices to make and kept a unique record of her professional and emotional journey. Through her diaries, sketches, photographs, telegrams and hundreds of letters, we will travel across America with this articulate young woman as her small-town values were tested and she made decisions that would affect her for the rest of her life.

Return Address– A Letter from MGM

A critical turning point for Jane came between 1938 and 1940 when she “belonged only to Louis B Mayer.” She worked long hours, often six days a week, in the Writers Building at Metro – for much of the time in an office next to F Scott Fitzgerald’s – (see Gallery) and still managed to dance with the stars at night. Her voice from Culver City is candid, refreshing and at times disturbing as she describes her adventures and the creative process at MGM during its Golden Age. (She also did some contract work for Universal Pictures and RKO. )

In weekly posts (that began on November 16, 2011) we will follow this self-conscious, sturdy tomboy as she matured into a sophisticated, glamorous young woman and, in October 1939*, became one of Cosmopolitan’s iconic cover girls.  Her complexion is flawless, the features perfect, but the expression in Jane’s green eyes is wistful.  Always unsure of her looks as a young girl, by 1939 her sense of who she should be had been redefined by Hollywood and by cover artist Bradshaw Crandell. The image is symbolic; the world of glamour was seductive but it came at a cost.  Her aunt and uncle — her guardians–had been hard-hit by the Depression and felt enormous relief when Jane became engaged to Robert Frye Cutler, a handsome theatrical producer who was thirteen years her senior and could provide some assurance of financial security. Though unforeseen complications that followed her marriage distracted her from writing, she left a priceless record of the years between 1925 and 1942 when she helped create –and assess– the vibrant culture of a tumultuous era.

The images in the Salome to Hollywood  Gallery also tell a story – click on the image for a larger view and additional information. We own the original of this Bradshaw Crandell cover pastel of Jane and Kate; it is currently on loan to Poplar Springs  (now an Inn and Spa) where Jane spent much of her life after 1930. Cosmopolitan is published by Hearst Publications but it is no longer a literary magazine.  

This post is Number 1 in a series. For an easy way to follow the story go the Blog Tab at the top of the home page, click “Salome to Hollywood” and you will have all the posts on this topic, starting with the most recent.

PLEASE USE THE CONTACT TAB AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE FOR ANY QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS.

.