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Lili and Errol – the BIG question did he or did he not?

17 Feb

 For Kathleen and RobertIs he on his way to get hitched or not? 
 Is it 1935 or is it 1938 – 1939?


 Close up picture – cropped from Kathleen's picture!

 Now compare the above picture with the four pictures below!
 Below Errol in 1938 – 1939
!

   
                           Pictures made by George Hurrell!
  
                                                                This is a wonderful mask 1938

I think this what Errol looked like in 1935 – agreed?


 Who is going to win the price?

— Tina

 
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Tina look what I found . . .

16 Feb

Oddly, the glamour of 1930s Hollywood became a part of the ASTC experience. Andy Devine, who had attended the college in 1926, often returned to campus with “intriguing” young starlets. He took time from his movie career and Jack Benny's NBC radio program to select the La Cuesta yearbook queens from photographs. One lucky queen, Julie Osborne (1938), received a personally guided tour of Universal Studios from Andy. In 1939, Erroll Flynn [sic] and Randolph Scott, who were filming Virginia City near Flagstaff, selected Alice Moore as queen

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Taken from:  I REMEMBER
Depression-Era Students at Arizona State Teachers College

 

 

Errol just seems to be found in unexpected places.  I am reading Airframe by Michael Crichton and on page 77 . . . “She walked down the corridor, past the photographs of famous Norton aircraft from the past, with a celebrity posed in front: . . . Errol flynn, with smiling girls in the tropics, in front of an N-5 . . . .” !!!!

— Kathleen

 
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Errol and Olivia

15 Feb

www.filmsite.org…

A view of “pornographic” kisses and our stars share the spotlight three times!

— Kathleen

 
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What became of Errol's sister 'Rosemary'?

15 Feb

Dear Fellow 'EF' bloggers, It never ceases to amaze me,the broad stratum of info out there on Errol's life and times. With your 'super sleuth' ability it would seem that we all enjoy a new thread in the rich fabric of Errol's life on a weekly basis. Playing on those averages then , Im second guessing that someone knows something about Errol's sister ? After marrying an 'Airforce Officer' by the name of 'Warner' ( how ironic) and moving to the 'States' her trail seems to go relatively cold. I'd really like to know if Errol had any nieces or nephews??  Well I have every faith that one of you knows something and would greatly appreciate any notes you would care to share.

Travel well . Best&Kindest, Chris

— Chris

 
 

February Docklines – The Errol Flynn Marina Newsletter!

15 Feb

February2010Docklines.pdf The Official Newsletter of the Errol Flynn Marina, Port Antonio, JA

— David DeWitt

 
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The Rockitt Magazine for February!

07 Feb

Hallo, Chums! You should check out The Rockitt Magazine's February issue for the latest Flynn article called “From Hobart to Hollywood”, a continuing series. The magazine is top notch aside from the Flynn connection, too! You can use the index button underneath the Main Pages  view to choose thumbnails of the pages and click on them to enlarge them or just use the two buttons at the edges of the magazine to scroll the pages. Great work from our pal Pete, at the Rockitt Magazine!

— David DeWitt

 
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Navy Island in Happier Times

06 Feb

Dear Errol Fans,

      I've managed to dredge up some photos of the Navy Island resort,the Admiralty Club at full swing, the interior of one of the cottages(with good friends) and even a copy of the brochure. These are all circa 1980 or so. It was called 'Vagabond Villa's at the time and the way you see it here it is how I will cherish it in my memory until the day I die. I hope you enjoy them. Note: The location of my “ghostly encounter” was(on IMG 0001) just before the 'bridge' across from 'orchid pond'. The interior photos of the cottage are of the 'Lookback House'. (so-called because when it was time to leave, you always looked back and wished you could stay)

                                                                John

— john

 

The Ghost of Navy Island

06 Feb

Dear Errol Fans,

        I want to relay a true story that I originally told to Steve and Genene Randall (the authors of the 'Tassie Devil' website) some years back, and they were kind enough to post it on the site.

       As I have said, I have been to traveling to Port Antonio since about 1979 and one of my favorite spots was the Admiralty Club at the now abandoned Navy Island resort. In those days, the place was a small paradise. There was a lovely little pocket sized beach on the W. side with a pier and a beach bar. You could dive off the pier, swim about 50 ft. and there the water became very shallow and there was a spot about 40 ft. in diameter where the water was only 3 or 4 inches deep with dazzling soft white coral sand underneath. You could lie down and feel the hot sun and cooling water at the same time. There were no waves larger than an inch or so and the view of the Blue Mountains in the distance was strikingly beautiful. I often said that was my most favorite place in the whole world.(And I have yet to find a better one.)

     A man named Harry Eiler owned it and lived in one of the Polynesian style cottages with a lovely view of the Titchfield peninsula. The Club had an 'Errol Flynn Room' full of posters and memento's, and even rare photos of Errol at the first Port Antonio Blue Marlin Tournament. (I've never seen it anywhere else or since) The restaurant and bar were top notch and the view was also first-rate. I took some friends I had met who were from Edinburgh, Scotland (Aiden and Charlotta Daye) to lunch there, followed by a day at the beach and they were very impressed.

     The next time I traveled there, everything had changed. The resort was closed down and a Hurricane had wreaked havoc on most everything. I walked up the stairs to the club to find the door wrenched open and walked in. It was heart breaking to see the Errol Flynn room stripped of all photos, trash strewn everywhere, windows broken, etc. Not wanting to see more, I left quickly and took the opportunity to try and find the 'Errol Flynn House' I had heard was on the E. side of the island. The road was still passable and I started walking.I took my time and looked into the now vacant cottages and marveled at the construction. They were basically large, round thatch-roofed huts with a telephone sized pole in the center holding up the roof. They measured about 30 ft. tall and 40 to 50 ft. in diameter. Partitions separated the living spaces and it looked like a very pleasant, spacious design.

          I continued on, basically gawking like a regular tourist, not knowing what I was looking for but looking anyway. At this point I came upon what looked like an outdoor church with an alter and pews set in the grass, opposite there was an enormous cottonwood tree and a large grass covered field beyond. It was at this point that the most uncomfortable feeling came over me that I have ever had. It was a terror, a chill that went right up my spine. The fact that it was sunny and calm made it all the more terrifying. I then noticed that I did not hear any birds chirping or any other sound.(which was very unnatural in that part of the world.) I tried to shake it off and continue, but two steps into it another wave even more (much more) powerful hit me with an almost physical force and I stopped in my tracks. This time I was afraid, very afraid. I felt chilled. I could not see anything but something was RIGHT THERE. I think it was almost like cold Death or something damn near like it. The hair on my entire body felt as if it was on end, and there was nothing I could do about it. I remember the overwhelming feeling of 'helplessness' I had, even today. Now note that I am not a superstitious man and I'm used to being on my own so this was not at all normal. After being frozen in place for what seemed to be an eternity, I turned around very slowly and started walking back the way I came, slowly at first, then broke into a full run. I did not stop or look back until I was back at the Admiralty Club pier, out of breath, wild eyed, and looking ever which way.

          I jumped in the water and swam to the mainland. (Where the Errol Flynn Marina is now) It was there I tried to get a little of my dignity back. I cursed myself for 'being afraid of nothing'(after all, I was a grown man of 23 yrs. and had been in plenty of 'close scrapes' and had come out O.K.) and gradually attempted to regain my swagger. The bad feeling seemed to fade and my heartbeat returned to something akin to normal. Later at the Scotia Inn were I was staying, I casually mentioned it to the lady of the house.(Miss Phyllis) I have never seen a black person turn gray before, but she did. She said the island was haunted and to never go there alone or at night. She was almost as afraid as I had been. She said the locals steer clear of the place for just that reason. I asked who the ghost was and she said many people think it is Errol Flynn's ghost. I don't know about that, but whatever it was, it was NOT friendly.

         Many years later I read about Ricky Nelson encountering an'evil spirit' in Errol's house in L.A.(which he bought) and how it was also malevolent. I then read about how Errol had taken Beverly Aaland to Navy Island and swore an oath of marriage at the foot of a large cottonwood tree, circled the tree and then lay down in the soft grass and made love.(just months before his death) I kept this little secret to myself for years before telling the 'Tassie Devil' folks. Now I'm telling you. Maybe it was all in my head, or maybe I was on sacred ground, who knows? I have learned by painful example to trust my instincts and intuition and I believe if I had ignored it, that something terrible would have happened. What I felt that day was real, and nobody will ever convince me different. I do know that is the only time in my life anything like that has ever happened.(thank Christ!) I have since made the trip again and I had no ill feelings whatsoever but let me tell you, it took all the courage I could scrape together to walk past that same place, even years later. I wrote in my travel manuscript:” Now there are no ghosts on my island”. That, I guess is a metaphor of sorts. One note though, even though I planned to, I cannot bring myself to stay the night there. After all, even a non-superstitious man has to draw the line somewhere!

                                      John

— john

 

The Last Sad Rites of Errol Flynn

06 Feb

Dear Errol fans,

        I have been besieged with negative comments as to why Errol was not buried in Jamaica as was his wish. Most of the comments blame Patrice Wymore Flynn and think she had a plan for an 'evil last payback' of some sort to punish Errol for any and all wrongs that she thought Errol had dealt her. The real reason could be not further from the truth. Errol died in Vancouver, B.C. Canada. That very fact had everything to do with how the events turned out. First; the Canadian law follows British law, i.e. Anyone who loses their life in Canada who is a foreign national is subject to an autopsy.(for obvious reasons) That being done, the remains are lawfully shipped to the deceased lawful address, (this being Los Angeles County, CA. i.e Errol's legal residence) Errol's remains stayed at the Vancouver Morgue for two days until Errol's friend came to claim the body. The remains were then put on a train for the trip to L.A. That trip took four days in an unrefrigerated baggage car, at which it was turned over to the proper authorities.

                The L.A.County Health Dept. then at some point filed an 'immediate burial writ' and the the remains were then buried at Forest lawn within 24-48 hours. Note that this was 1959 and the threat of Cholera and Typhoid Fever was a very real concern. The authorities did not care who it was, only that the public good was to be protected. The story that friends put several bottles of liquor in the coffin at the wake is simply not true. ( It made for good pulp press though) The fact is: Due to the circumstances, the L.A. coroner filed a “closed coffin” order and Errol was buried in that manner. Also, for Errol to be re-buried in Jamaica would have been a logistical nightmare. In L.A. County, a dis-internment order was almost impossible to get. (unless the asking party was the police) There had already been an autopsy (in Vancouver) and no foul play was suspected. Indeed, the results pointed to a massive heart attack, liver cirrosis, and a laundry list of other ailments.(In fact it seems incredible that he lived as long as he did.) To request it for any other reason would have involved a court hearing, etc, that most probably would have dragged on for months. Let's say for argument's sake that it was actually done: The coffin would have to be encased in a airtight container, shipped by boat or air plane to Kingston, JA where customs would have had the final say. Let me tell you,(as I have extensive experience in JA goings-on) Bringing a body into a country such as JA for re-burial would have been another nightmare. All kinds of health concerns would have delayed the transfer, and the coffin would have most likely sat in the air-freight warehouse at the Kingston airport for two or three months while the bureaucracy slowly ground on, and even then, it would be a 50-50 chance that the remains would have been accepted. Let's not forget that the Jamaican people are very superstitious.(and still are.) They call ghosts: 'Duppies' and believe that have great powers, and there is no 'Duppie so evil' as one who is denied his final resting place. This belief exists to this day.(even in 2010)

       To put it all in perspective, Errol lived a great life, and when he died, the portion left behind was not Errol, but just a shell for a soul. (at least, that's how I see it) As for me, when I pass on, I don't care what they do with the body. Hell, get rid of it in the cheapest way possible! What has made me me, is gone to another place.

         Also, I have heard that there is a rumor that Patrice sent yellow roses to Errol's grave as a 'spiteful last insult'. Patrice at that time was almost penniless, and only had the property in JA and was in no position to do anything. The truth is, Errol's friend Bud Abbott (of Abbott and Costello fame, and a close friend) called a local florist and ordered an enormous amount of roses to be sent to the grave site. The florist was short of red roses, but had a line on yellow roses and did not think it would matter, so that is what was sent, much to the later embarrassment of Mr. Abbott.

         I have often said that there is nothing more bitter and chastising as the pure truth, and I believe this is yet one more example. I hope I have not turned away any readers. There is so much more good in Errol's life that remains to be written, and I intend to do it,(with you readers support.) Errol was, at his core, just a man, a human being with all the faults and warts we all carry. He was a great man in his own way, and to quote Shakespeare; “Here, was a Caesar, When comes another?” It is easy to think of him in Hollywood terms, but Hollywood is make-believe. Errol was the real thing. And rather than to hide his true feelings due to some 'political correctness',(a term coined by Josef Stalin) he was his own man and 'let it all hang out' and if you accepted it, fine, if not, you could go to hell. In my humble opinion, that is the attitude of a real man. That is what made him the legend that he was and still is. That, my friends, is how I view him and I admire him all the more for it.

                                                  Thank You All,  John

         

— john

 

Don Juan Poster

05 Feb

Hi All

One of our society members has this poster and would like to know a little bit more about it. It is one metre wide and one and a half metres tall and is not flimsy paper but on a cardboard type backing. Does any one have an idea as to how to describe it and any other useful info on it?

Regards

Steve

— tassie devil

 
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