The Errol Flynn Blog

from THE PROVINCE – Friday, October 9, 1959By JOHN ARNETT, Province Staff Reporter

“My future is dedicated to two things—women and litigation,” movie star Errol Flynn said at Vancouver airport Thursday evening.
“Women—well that speaks for itself, but I have been sued so often that I think I should start suing somebody else, and perhaps I should make a start with some of those scandal magazines.”
                                                        
WITH STARLET
Flynn, a paunchy, greying edition of the debonair hero of Hollywood movies, was accompanied by 17-year-old Hollywood starlet Beverley Addland.
He is in Vancouver to complete the sale of his schooner “Zaca” to George Caldough, 1026 Eyremont, West Vancouver.
The actor put on spontaneous show for newsmen and some pop-eyed employees at the airport terminal. He clowned with a bowler hat for photographers and graciously kissed the hand of a woman reporter.
<?xml:namespace prefix = v ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml” />FEEL FAINT
Asked if he ever watched for old movies of his now enjoying a strong rebirth on late shows on television, Flynn replied:
“It just makes me feel faint to see how energetic I used to be in those days. No, I don’t often look at them.”
Chimed in his travelling companion: “Oh yes you do, and I’ve often heard you say ‘my, I used to be good looking.'”
BUSINESS DEAL
George Caldough, with whom Flynn will be staying until early next week, will pay more than $100,000 for Flynn’s 116-foot schooner.
“It’s strictly a business deal,” explained Mr. Caldough, who has sailed nothing larger than a dinghy. “I think it is a good investment.”
The schooner, reported to be the second largest privately-owned sailing boat afloat—there’s one owned by a member of the Spalding sporting goods family which is 22 feet longer, is currently moored at Majorca, a Spanish island in the Mediterranean.
 

— David DeWitt

Errol went home often—got away from it all

from THE PROVINCE Newspaper – Friday, October 16, 1959

LONDON (Reuters) – Zoologist Theodore Flynn, 74, father of movie star Errol Flynn, said in an interview Thursday his son's biography “My Wicked, Wicked, Wicked Ways,” will be published despite Errol's death.

The 28,000-word manuscript purports to tell the true story of Flynn's love life.

Prof. Flynn said: “Publication will go on. The truth will be told. There is no reason now to hold anything back.”

Flynn's father said, “the world seems to have got a fantastic picture of my son. But the real truth is in this house—where he was coming inside a fortnight.

“He came here more often than people ever knew to get away from that life outside.

He would telephone, talk to his mother, and say he was coming. And he would be quiet with us—chatting to his mother and resting from the rush of his public life.

“We would try to give him the orderly regular life of a small household. He loved it so that he hardly ever went out.

“Now it's over—and I can not even go to the funeral. It's so far and I am only a professor, I cannot afford it.”

— David DeWitt

Errol, telling about his Cuban exploits, looked “pretty silly” on Jack Paar's television show. July 1959 HUSH-HUSH Magazine– He carries his famous sword cane, and looks tired…

— David DeWitt

from LIFE Magazine – October 26, 1959

There was just one word for Errol Flynn—outrageous. In his real life as on film he was constantly sprinting out from behind the arras pursued by an angry husband or a flummoxed female. He was married three times, fathered four children and won a law suit charging him with fathering another. He loved the company of young girls and he was accused three times, but never convicted, of statutory rape. In 25 years of movie-making he earned and grandly spent more than $7 million. He drank two quarts of vodka daily, three when he got up early enough, and he was a scamp, bounder and barroom brawler in the great and mannered tradition of Cellini, Casanova and Don Juan. The truth was not in him when a lie made a better story. Large numbers of people loved him dearly.

Last week, at 50, Errol Flynn lounged about a Vancouver doctor's apartment while the classic pains of a coronary spread through his body and down his arms and legs (he knew them, for he had suffered them twice before) and talked of other things, of long-gone friends, of John Barrymore, W. C. Fields. He said, “Hell, dying is not so much,” and asked for a room to lie down in. Soon he died.

THE WILD OLD DAYS in Hollywood were the subject of Flynn's favorite stories about prodigious drunks and questionable escapades. Here he tells how John Barrymore's body was spirited from the funeral parlor a few hours after his death by some of Flynn's drunken friends, including a famous movie director. Flynn pantomimed the body (far left), the drunken friends and their difficulties as they carried it to Flynn's house and put it in a chair. Flynn arrived, saw the body and fled screaming (far right). Flynn wound up the story by adding that he did not think it was the correct way to say goodby to John.

— David DeWitt