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Have an Errol Flynn Thanksgiving 2020 ….

26 Nov

Thanks, Karl Holmberg …

— David DeWitt

 
4 Comments

Posted in Main Page

 

A New Type of Hollywood Hero … Errol Flynn!

24 Nov

This is from the Dayton Daily News, Nov. 24, 1935. The first pic is an overall of the entire page, but unfortunately is not legible due to the limited size of the copy here, as well as the quality of the paper. But added is the blow-up of Flynn. Those who have access to newspapers.com…, or a similar site, can read the read the content …

— David DeWitt

 

Future Warner Bros Star, Errol Flynn … 1935!

21 Nov

One month before the Warner Brothers release of Captain Blood on December 19, 1935 …

— David DeWitt

 

Our Lives …

16 Nov

We like to promote some of the off topic things our contributors are involved in from time to time. This might be a book, like a novel or a play, a documentary or film, and our own Gentleman (Tim Reid) supports an issue that is very important to all of us. He provides the lyrics, melody and audio co-production work for the following excellent video with a lovely song sung by Rosalind Beall and musical accompaniment by Jesse Finch …

#StopProbateFraudianships commissioned this song to draw attention to the issue of seniors who are isolated and dying in long term care facilities against their wills. 

 

See the French version of this song here: youtu.be/WWm1l712s3A…

English lyrics and vocal melody by Tim Reid. French translation by Rosalind Beall. Video by Rosalind Beall & Jesse Finch.

Thanks, Tim …

— David DeWitt

 
1 Comment

Posted in Promo

 

In Memorium … Our Dear Trudy McVicker!

14 Nov

Our dear sweet soul Trudy McVicker has passed, aged 87 …

Friend to all of us on The Errol Flynn Blog, and a friend of Earl Conrad, and everybody who knew her, she was in attendance at Jack & Louise Marino’s Centennial Party for Errol Flynn in 2009 where we all had a chance to meet and be instantly charmed by this lovely woman who we now hold in our hearts in a new way … what a blessing she was to all of us!

 

TP McNulty Remembering our dear friend Trudy McVicker: Trudy once said to me that she wondered if people go to the place they loved the most, and see again the people they loved the most when they die. She hoped that was the way it works out, that when we die we all get to be in some wonderful place we dreamed of with our most cherished friends and family. Trudy is with a Tasmanian swashbuckler now, and of her many friends, I know of several late writer friends she held in high regard, and you can bet their conversations are fascinating. Nothing I post here does Trudy justice, and in fact, she told me not to do this type of thing, because she knew there would be enough of that “type of thing” from certain others, so this will be my only public statement (for now) at her request. She was one of a kind. Wherever she is, there are mysteries to unravel, incredible characters to observe, and laughter to be had. She once described to me the rainfall hitting the sidewalks as being like “shiny dimes tossed into the street.” She told me how once, years ago, she watched a traveling carnival set up in town; and how it changed from a parade of grimy, gasoline smelling machines into a multi-colored light show of spinning Ferris wheels with a calliope whistling and sputtering steam to the delight of crowds of dancing children, and how amazing and wonderful it all was. She viewed the world as a wonderful place to explore, and so she did. Of the photos I’ve posted here, you’ll see her glass menagerie on her windowsill. This was a work in progress. She loved the way the light changed as it came through the trees and then touched the glass, illuminating even more of this incredible world we live in. May the wind be at your back, dear Trudy, and may the road rise up to meet you. That tall man up the path looks familiar. Why, yes, I’ve seen that grin before. He’s a good fellow, well met, and he has some stories to tell. As they walk up the hillside together I can well imagine the laughter echoing into the golden afternoon, and then, quite slowly, we fade out. Peace.

Thanks for sharing Tom & Jan McNulty …

— David DeWitt

 

Gentleman Jim Hotel Room ….

13 Nov

Click the image to read …

— David DeWitt

 
 

Errol Flynn, The Last Romantic Hero!

27 Oct

Thanks to Karl Holmberg …

— David DeWitt

 

Mail Bag! Bonny Cother Sends Errol Flynn Letter!

20 Oct

Nice letter from Errol Flynn to his bank Credit Suisse, Geneva …

Thanks so much, Bonny …

— David DeWitt

 

Remembering Errol …

14 Oct

Today is Wednesday, October 14, the day Errol Flynn left the world … We remember and love our dear ol’ Errol …

June 20, 1909 – October 14, 1959

 

The original first posting I wrote on this blog: Published February 4, 2007

Who was Errol Flynn?

He it was who fought the evil-doers up there on the big screen when I was a kid growing up along the banks of the Snohomish River circa 1959. I was ten years old when the great swashbuckler died, and clearly remember the day he died because I distinctly recall saying aloud… Oh, I liked him! when I saw his picture in my father’s newspaper and read that he had died in Vancouver, B.C. the day before. Vancouver was in British Columbia, Canada–less than two hours drive north from where we lived in a little logging community that surrounded a tiny lumber mill resting on the edge of the Snohomish River, near Everett, Washington. Not far to the south was the big city of Seattle–farther south, somewhere, was Hollywood where Flynn lived, I thought then…

All Movie Stars lived in Hollywood, I thought.

Where else would they live?

 


 

As a ten year old kid, my friends and I would play Robin Hood in the marsh between our houses. This area was about an acre of tall grass with a layer of mud and water under it. In the center of it was a tall tree with willowy branches. Nearby this tree was a cement block that was part of the foundation of a house or building long vanished from sight.

This cement block was a perfect place to swing on a rope from the tree, and land Flynn-like on the cement block, saying loudly “…Welcome to Sherwood, Milady!” as the other kids stood watching.

We created bows and arrows from tree branches (long bows) and shot at cardboard targets in a Tournament–and went about robbing the rich to give to the poor…

There were terrific battles between the Normans and the Saxons–in cardboard armor. We had long stick swords with handles that consisted of a short block of wood nailed across the end of the stick where are hands took up these sharply pointed “swords”. It is amazing that nobody lost an eye or was impaled when we whacked each other’s cardboard armor to pieces but we all survived major injury.

It was disconcerting, however, to see the pointed end of a stick come tearing through your head armor (a small cardboard box with eye slits cut in it) and see the sharp tip whiz past your face… We were the Merry Men of Sherwood until dark and our Mothers called out our names to come home for dinner.

The day I read of Errol Flynn’s death in my Dad’s evening newspaper was a sad one for me and for the Men of Sherwood. But soon, I forgot all about him–and moved on to other childhood adventures. We built a two-by-four wide bridge across the swamp from the cement block to the edge of the sawdust pile–a distance of about a half block, for example. It was rickety, held up by posts driven into the soft swamp ground. We scavenged everything we needed from the sawmill nearby. It had tons of discarded stuff to use for our scientific and engineering feats.

The days moved by quickly during those hot summer days of 1959–we climbed the Willow tree, and jumped off–catching branches to break our fall into the swamp’s knee high muck. We sent expeditions into the surrounding swamp of green scrub, sticker bushes, and  thick-limbed trees to bring back scientific samples of flora and fauna. This was Stink Weed and Dandelions, and all manner of growing weeds. We boiled this up in Terry Sullivan’s mother’s pressure cooker in their kitchen and went out to play on the rooftop of the Sullivan’s garage. When we heard the explosion, it was nearly dark and Terry’s parents weren’t home, yet…

The mess was all over the kitchen walls, and their kitchen stank for a week. We got a real hiding for that one!

Other days were spent riding our bicycles round the two roads that came down into the Mill area–my brother never could stop that heavy framed bike with its oversized tires, so he just crashed into the grass or alongside Dad’s car–or time was spent making tree houses. We had crewcuts in summer, collected bubble gum cards and seven up bottlecaps (to go to the movies when you turned them in) and wore blue jeans all the time with a t-shirt. You could put a playing card held with a wooden clothesline clip onto the wheel of your bike to make it sound like a motorcycle as the card fanned against the spokes!

TV was a little black-and-white set with an arial on the roof of the house. There may have been seven channels including the Canadian channels. Sundays, it seems to me, there were sci-fi movies like the BLOB with Steve McQueen in a starring role. And there were Errol Flynn movies like Robin Hood, The Charge of the Light Brigade, and Dodge City. Red Skeleton was on, and Milton Berle…

I remember seeing Errol on The Red Skeleton Show. He played a bum and held up the remains of his yacht–a porthole!

Errol had a huge effect on young boys of my generation. He was the swashbuckling hero we all wanted to be! He sailed the Seas, he found Adventure and Treasure, and love–that part we could do without. He was always kissing GIRLS!

But he sure could swordfight! He could shoot arrow-after-arrow like you’d pull the trigger on a gun! And every one found its mark!

 


 

As the years passed I forgot about Errol Flynn.

I was in my twenties before he became interesting to me again. I had been reading some biographies of various people–adventurous people like Jack London, Frank Buck, Robb White, and Martin & Osa Johnson. Hemingway fascinated me. It was while reading about Hemingway that Errol’s name came up. Errol Flynn! There was a reference to something Flynn said in a book called “My Wicked, Wicked Ways”. I wonder if I could find that book anywhere, I thought.

It turned out that it was still very much in print and there was a paperback copy of it at my local bookstore. Then began some of best reading I have ever come across in an autobiography. This story had it all… intrigue, mystery, adventure, laughs, tears… and it was all true!

Wasn’t it?

 


 

Well… What wasn’t true made a hellova story, and what was true was not always just a colorful story. You might read “My Wicked, Wicked Ways” as  a terrific novel–or a tall tale, yet, here is a legendary character that captures the spirit of adventure in the hearts of all young people who share the feelings of a young man who takes on more than he can chew at times but has his fill nonetheless of what life has to offer… he drank his fill both literally and figuratively of everything most others only dreamed of or read about in glossy magazines. He was kind, cruel–generous, mean, unpredictable, tormented, creative, foolish, brave, gullible, and had a genius for living larger than life. He was intelligent, self-educated–a businesman, an internationally recognised actor, a writer, an explorer, a raconteur, a drunk, an addict. His life was a Shakespearean drama…

He was a lot of things to many people and he was less to himself than should have been. He was and is the quintessential bad boy–but he wasn’t nearly as wicked as he was thought to be by those who didn’t understand him, or those who envied him. He was dangerous. He was cultured, he was a joker, he was… curious.

He was a scientist, of sorts… that is, he knew the real world and wanted to understand it. To experience it. All of it.

And for nearly fifty years, he did.

 

— David DeWitt

 

Barrymore Tights Painting by John Decker!

22 Sep

“Subject of painting, John Barrymore was the kingpin of Hollywood’s Bad Boy Club, “The Bundy Drive Boys.” His legendary exploits along with cronies Errol Flynn, W. C. Fields, and Hollywood’s madcap artist, John Decker, are detailed in the book, “Hollywood’s Hellfire Club,” 2007, Feral House Publishing. This painting is by Decker who portrays Barrymore putting on his tights before a stage performance. Painting is Oil on Board, 22″X28″ housed in a non-vintage frame, with overall outer dimensions of 29 1/2″X 35 1/2″.”

WorthPoint

 

— David DeWitt