Photographer & Friend, Dennis Stock, dies at age of 81

Dennis Stock, photographer and personal friend of James Dean, died on Monday from Pneumonia at a Hospistal in Saratosa, FL. He was already battling Colon and Liver Cancer.

Dennis was best known for photographing James Dean in a trench coat walking in the rain in Times Square.

Check out the video below as Dennis recounts the day he met James Dean and his travels with Dean to fairmount, IN.

Actress Steffi Sidney-Spalver passes on Feb 22, 2010

Actress Steffi Sidney-Spalver passed away on February 22, 2010 at Swedish Hospital Medical Center in Seattle due to kidney failure. She was the daughter of the famous Hollywood columnist Sidney Skolsky, who was known to name the Academy Award an Oscar.

She started her first role as an actress in 1953 in the movie "The Eddie Cantor Story" which her father produced. Two years later, she got the role of Mil, as one of the girls who would torment Jim Stark (played by James Dean) in the movie "Rebel Without A Cause."

A memorial is planned for her on April 16, 2010 at 11:00am at Mount Sinai Hollywood Hills, 5950 Forest Lawn Drive, Los Angeles, CA

Dennis Hopper receives a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame

Despite Dennis Hopper's deteriorating health, he personally appeared on the unveilling of his star Friday and was very touched by the presence of the people who were there.

Dennis Hopper got his start in 1955 by playing a teengage rebel in the movie "Rebel Without A Cause" along with James Dean. Both became personal friends and would later appear together in James Dean's last film "Giant". But it was really "Easy Rider" in 1969 that set in stone Hopper's stardom by gaining him an Oscar Nomination for Best Screenplay.

Check out the video by clicking on the here.

Best of wishes to him and his family as they face this difficult time in his life. He will not be forgotten.

New James Dean DVD to be released on August 11, 2009

This DVD examines James Dean after 54 years since his death. It contains rarely seen footage of his early career, including 10 of his television appearances between 1951-1954.



You can order your DVD at the James Dean Gallery store for $15 and no shipping charges. Please support the gallery.



Click on the photo for additional info, including a Dennis Hopper interview.

James Dean look-a-like writes his story

Wes Bryan, a singer, songwriter, producer and James Dean look-a-like from 1957 is looking for a publisher for his story. Click on the link below to read his story.


http://www.ohio.com/news/43263872.html

Fate of Fairmount High School

It is with sadden news that the Fairmount High school Restoration project has reached its dead end. The High school is most likely headed to demolition. The California-Based business and profit has not been successful in obtaining enough funds to continue the project.

James Whitmore dies at 87 (1921-2009)

Versatile actor, James Whitmore, who had been James Dean's acting teacher at UCLA and had encouraged Jimmy to move to New York to go to the Actor's studio if he really wanted to be a great actor , has passed away today from Lung Cancer in his Malibu Home.

James Dean in an interview with Heda Hopper had said this about Whitmore "There's always someone in your life who opens up your eyes. For me, that's Whitemore. He made me see myself. He opened me up, gave me the key."

James Whitmore is survived by actress-writer wife Noreen Nash and eight grand-children.

To read the Yahoo article, click here.

Words of Determination by James Dean

I never told this to anyone else. Guess I always thought they'd think I was crazy, so I just kept it to myself. But I think I can trust you. Have you ever had the feeling that it's not in your hands? Do you every just know you've got something to do and you have no control over it? See, all I know is, I've got to do something. I don't know exactly what it is yet, but when the time comes, I'll know. I've got to keep trying until I hit the right button. See what I mean? It's like, I know I want to be an actor, but that isn't it. That's not all. Just being an actor or a director, even a good one, isn't enough. There's got to be more than just that. I figure there's nothing you can't do if you put everything you've got into it. The only thing that stops people from getting what they want is themselves. They put too many barriers in their paths. It's like they're afraid to succeed. In a way, I guess I know why. There's a terrific amount of responsibility that goes with success, the greater the success, the greater the responsibility. But I think, if you're not afraid, if you take everything you are, everything worthwhile in you, and direct it at one goal, one ultimate mark; you've got to get there. If you start accepting the world, letting things happen to you, around you, things will happen like you never dreamed. That's why I am going to stick to this thing. I don't want to be just a good actor. I don't even want to be just the best. I want to grow and grow, grow so tall that nobody can reach me. Not to prove anything, but just to go where you ought to go when you devote your whole self and all you are into one thing. Maybe this sounds crazy or egocentric or something, but I think there's only one true form of greatness for a man. If a Man can bridge that gap between life and death, I mean, if he can live on after he's dead, then maybe he was a great man. When they talk about success, they talk about reaching the top. But there is no top. You've got to go on and on, NEVER STOP AT ANY POINT. To me, the only success, the only true greatness for a man lies in immortality. To have your work remembered in history, to leave something in this world that will last for generations, centuries even. That's greatness. I want to grow away from all this crap. You know the pathetic little world we exist in. I want to leave it all behind, all the petty thoughts about the unimportant little things that'll be forgotten a hundred years from now anyway. There's a level somewhere where everything is solid and important. I am going to try to reach up there and find a place I know is pretty close to perfect, a place where this whole messy world should be, could be, if it'd just take the time to learn. Well, then, there, now...guess I shot my wad. Anyway, now you know what a nut I am. - James Byron Dean, age 20, 1950.

Art by James Dean

This is a collection of art pieces made by James Dean that is featured in Men's Vogue Magazine Online in the arts section. All images were provided by courtesy of Heritage Auction Galleries.

All of Jimmy's drawings and paintaing suggests him as an artists with a stead hand, unique eye, and a morbidly sense of humor.

WATERCOLOR PAINTING

This is an abstract painting done by James Dean in 1949 during his senior year in high school.This piece features a strange view from space and unknown creatures being crushed by an obelisk bristling with eyeballs on stalks.

DOUBLE MIRRORED FACIAL FEATURES SKETCH

Dean's sketch of a funhouse double reflection of a woman's nose, lips, and eyes done with blue ink on white paper.

ARROW THROUGH WOMAN SKETCH

Perhaps a Valentine's Day offering from James Dean to Geraldine Page: A woman with an upside-down heart-shaped bottom pierced by Cupid's arrow.

NUDE FIGURES STUDIES

A compelling trio, with a nude female straddling two male companions.

THREE DRAWINGS

Dean used the back of a flyer for Women of Trachis to create three images: At left, a sketch of a right hand; at right, a sketch of a right leg and foot (believed to be Dean's); and in the center a none-too-jolly-looking jester.

THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS

This painting was created by Dean sometime around 1954. The painting appears to show a white, giant, God-like figure towering behind a sinister forest of stark, fire-charred trees. Presumably one must cross the forest to reach the light.

Quotes About James Dean

"Without James Dean, the Beatles would have never existed." John Lennon

"James Dean was a genius." Elvis Presley

"It's a good thing [James] Dean died when he did. If he'd lived, he'd never have been able to live up to the publicity." -- Humphrey Bogart

"All of us were touched by Jimmy, and he was touched by greatness." - Natalie Wood

"Jim Dean and Elvis were the spokesmen for an entire generation. When I was in acting school in New York, years ago, there was a saying that if Marlon Brando changed the way people acted, then James Dean changed the way people lived. He was the greatest actor who ever lived. He was simply a genius." - Martin Sheen

"He didn't show you very much. He'd challenge you to find him. Then when you'd found him, he'd still make you guess. It was an endless game with him. The thing people missed about Jimmy was his mischievousness. He was the most constantly mischievous person I think I've ever met. Full of tricks, full of magic, full of outrageousness." - Stewart Stern

"He was very afraid of being hurt. He was afraid of opening up in case it was turned around and used against him." - Elizabeth Taylor

"James Dean was the first guerilla artist ever to work in movies."- Denis Hopper

"The last scene I had with Jimmy Dean was down in the basement and he was drunk. We shot it. He left. That was that. Our work together was over. Then he was killed. The last think I ever said to him was, 'You know what, Jett- you're all through.'"- Rock Hudson

"Jimmy was something special to each person who knew him. So many people jumped on the bandwagon to say they knew the real Jimmy Dean. They didn't."-Sal Mineo

"I could not speak English well. Everyone was helpful, but when I met Jimmy, the first thing we did was to get into an argument about American music. Only then did I feel American. In Europe a woman does not argue with a man."- Ursula Andress

"Jimmy doesn't want to be talked about and I have to respect that. He is very weird when it comes to publicity. I don't want him to be angry with me."- Vampira

Eartha Kitt Dies at age 81

Eartha Kitt, dies at age 81
(January 17, 1927-December 25, 2008)

White screen legend James Dean was-not only a best friend (her play brother) of actress Dorothy Dandridge; he was also a close friend of Eartha Kitt. Kitt often hung out with Dean in the passenger seat of his Porsche convertible. Dean often got grief from studio bosses for hanging out with Kitt but he ignored them and often took her out in public (with the top down) despite their objections. One evening, they were driving on Mulholland Drive when Kitt told him, 'James, I don't like this car; it's going to kill you.' Dean laughed as he calmly took the curves to finish their journey back to Miller Drive. A week later, she heard on the radio-James Dean is dead. He was on his way to a car race and crashed. Kitt was devastated.

Eartha Kitt, a sultry singer, dancer and actress who rose from South Carolina cotton fields to become an international symbol of elegance and sensuality, has died, a family spokesman said. She was 81.

Andrew Freedman said Kitt, who was recently treated at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, died Thursday in Connecticut of colon cancer.

Kitt, a self-proclaimed "sex kitten" famous for her catlike purr, was one of America's most versatile performers, winning two Emmys and nabbing a third nomination. She also was nominated for several Tonys and two Grammys.

Read more about eartha's passing and career at: http://music.yahoo.com/read/news/61935259

Is this Jimmy or not?

In Loving Memory: Tributes to James Dean's Friends.

In Loving Memory of Vampira 1921-2008

We have lost our dear friend Maila "Vampira" Nurmi. She passed away in her Hollywood home on January 10th. at the age of 86.



In the early 1950s, she was close friends with James Dean, and they hung out together at Googie's coffee shop on the corner of Crescent Heights and Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. Her explanation for their friendship: "We have the same neuroses." Dean commented, "I have a fairly adequate knowledge of satanic forces, and I was interested to find out if this girl was obsessed with such a force."

In loving memory of Composer and Friend, Leonard Rosenman

Leonard Rosenman,83, died from a major heart attack on March 4, 2008. Rosenman wrote the legendary scores for the legendary James Dean films, "East of Eden" and "Rebel without A Cause".

Leonard Rosenman was writing chamber music and teaching piano when he met James Dean, who was then acting on stage and television. "We met at party," recalled Rosenman in a 1997 interview. "He heard me play the piano, and about a month later, my doorbell rings about 11 o'clock at night.

"I open the door, and here's a guy I don't remember all dressed in leather, motorcycle stuff. I said, 'What can I do for you?' And he said, 'I'd like to study piano with you.' "Rosenman and Dean became good friends and wound up sharing an apartment; it was Dean who brought Rosenman to the attention of Kazan.Read more of the story on the Los Angeles Times.


In Loving Memory of Joe Hyams 1923-2008
James Dean Biographer & Friend



Joe Hyams, a former Hollywood columnist and bestselling author of books ranging from biographies of Humphrey Bogart and James Dean (James Dean: Little Boy Lost) to a popular tome on Eastern philosophy, has died. He was 85.

Hyams, a longtime Los Angeles resident who moved to Penrose, Colo., three years ago, died of coronary artery disease Saturday, November 8, 2008, at a Denver hospital, said his wife of 14 years, Melissa.

To read more on the story, click on the Los Angeles Times link.

2008 James Dean Festival

James Intveld's West to Eden" James Dean video

James Intveld, a very talented musician, actor, and director, produced a short James Dean film based off the series "Letters from the underground" from the Silverlake Film Festival. This was a series of letters from famous people before they were famous.

This film is probably one of my favorite Jimmy films.



You can check out James Intveld's webpage by going to:
http://www.jamesintveld.com

or to his myspace page at:
http://www.myspace.com/jamesintveld

James Dean's Life Story-in his own words

Jimmy didn't like to talk about himself. When he did, it was short and to the point. Here is what he said....


    This biological stuff, the kind of baloney that columnist thrive on, is one thing I can't stomach. I'm an actor by accident, I guess, though I've always been involved in some kind of theatrical bit since I was a child- you know, school plays, music, debate and stuff.

    I grew up in a little Indiana town named Fairmount. I was an only child. My father was a farmer, but he was something of an artist, too. He had this remarkable adeptness with his hands.

    I studied the violin when I was a kid, but it didn't take. That was Mother's idea. If she hadn't died, I'd probably be sawing away yet. Having no mother is tough on a kid, you know. But when she died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle- great people.

    The way I figure it, whatever abilities I may have now took shape when I was in high school. I also went in for sports like pole-vaulting and track in order to prove something to myself. Track gave me the sense of discipline I needed. Later on, I won a state oratorical contest. I think I might have won the national contest, but I didn't go on with it.

    After graduation, I went to live with my father in Los Angeles, and just fot the hell of it, I signed up at U.C.L.A. for a pre-law course. But that didn't pan out- I guess I wasn't serious enough about it. I even joined a fraternity there on campus, but I busted a couple of guys in the nose and got myself kicked out. As for the law course, well, law calls for a certain talent for dramatics, but I guess it wasn't my cup of tea.

    By then, I had a notion that acting might be the career for me. When I first mentioned acting to my Dad, he didn't think it was such a hot idea. He'd seen too much Hollywood garbage and thought I'd be wasting my time. Don't get me wrong, though. I'm not knocking Hollywood. I'm in no position to.

    After I decided to try my luck in pictures, I contacted an agent and got a handful of small parts in movies like Has Anybody Seen my Gal? It was one of those frothy family-type musicals. In that one, I had a line or two as this fresh kid who comes into a drugstore where Charles Coburn is filing in behind the fountain. I was suppose to give him an elaborated description of an ice cream sundae I wanted. He listens, then says to me, "Would you come back tomorrow for a fitting?"

    Then there was Fixed Bayonets, a Korean war picture. There we were, all crouched down behind this hill, covered with dirt and sweat. And it was night raining, real Hollywood, you know. I had exactly one line. It went: "It' s a rear guard coming back." What a part.

    The move to New York turned out to be a wise one, I think. I picked up odd jobs here and there, and I began to study at the Actors Studio, under Lee Strasberg. Most of what I've learned about acting has come from that man. He's incredible, a walking encyclopedia, with a fantastic insight into human behavior.

    I played an Arab in The Immortalist on Broadway, and got an award for it, then came East of Eden, under the direction of Elia Kazan. I didn't read the book. I don't work that way. I'd much rather justify myself with the adaptation than with the source. I think I understood the part, and I knew, too, that if I had any problems about projecting the boy's background, I could straighten them out with Kazan.

    But George Stevens, for my money, is the greatest director of them all- even greater than Kazan. This Stevens was born in the movies. He's so real, so unassuming, and he doesn't miss a thing. Also, we've got a wonderful script for Giant. You know, when it wants to, Hollywood can accomplish tremendous things. And this movie might be one of them. I sure hope so.

    A lot of people have asekd me about Pier Angeli. Well, I met her when she was making The Silver Chalice and I was about to begin Eden. She is a rare girl. Unlike most Hollywood girls, she's real and genuine.And, though she's young, she has a rare insight in life. The only trouble is, she gets confused by listening to too many people.

    Something happened when I went to New York after Eden was finished. Things were different between us when I got back. I kept asking Pier if there was someone else, but she wouldn't tell me. Then, the night before her engagement was announced, she told me she was going to marry Vic Damone. I couldn't believe it.

    I wouldn't marry unless I could take care of a wife properly, and I don't think I'm emotionally stable enough to do so right now.

    To me, acting is the most logical way for a person with problems to express himself. All of us have a great need to let it go in some way, and for me, acting is the only outlet.

    A lot of people laugh at this, but I think every person has to find his real self. That old maxim "Know Thyself" is worth trying to follow.
   
    Like a lot of other people, I'm searching in the only way I know how.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Article found in "The Real James Dean Story", copyright 1956 by Fawcett Publications, INC

if you missed Dead Famous on June 24, 2007, here are videos from the show. Watch and you decide!


The Dead famous crew are searching for Jimmy's ghost, hints of his appearances post-death, specially by visiting the last places he visited before the crash, the crash site, and talking to some people close to him, such as Vampira and Dizzy Sheridan.

Warren Beath Talks about Rolf Weutherich

Rolf Weutherich is a sort of mystery figure, isn't he?

And a fascinating character. He was a party animal who had two interests—cars and girls.

He survived the accident that killed James Dean, but was himself killed in a car wreck?

In Germany. He died after missing a curve. He hit a house, and it was assumed he was drunk. They had to use the jaws of life to pry him out. He was asked about James Dean throughout his post-accident life and finally consented to an interview on German radio in his later years.

What did he have to say?

He told a few people that he actually had been snoozing at the time of the crash. That mean's he was not a good witness to how fast James Dean was driving, or toDean's last words.

He did not testify at the inquest?

No, but he was deposed in the hospital. BothErnest Tripke and a local Menonite minister helped translate. Rolf was apparently pretty out of it. But he estimated James Dean's average speed as 60-65 miles per hour. But Lee Raskin makes the point that Rolf had to have been referring to the tachometer. I don't believe the Spyder even had a speedometer. And if that was the tach reading, the speed would have been much faster.

James Dean was supposed to have said, "That guy's gotta stop"?

Or variations of that. "He's gotta see us." That sort of thing. But accident survivors pick up a lot of detail from people after the event and naturally fill in the blank spots in their memory. Plus there is amnesia from the trauma. So you have to take with a grain of salt the ghost-written recollections of Weutherich concerning James Dean that appeared in the movie magazines of the fifties on the anniversaries of the crash.

Rolf Wuetherich was gravely injured in the accident that killed James Dean?

He was hospitalized for eighteen months. He suffered headaches and toward the end of his life developed a stuttering problem. He became estranged from his family and they are reluctant to talk about him. James Dean's shadow hung over him the remainder of his life, though he was a gifted mechanic in his own right, and participated in numerous races.

How did Dean's shadow hang over him?

Well, immediately after the accident there was some sentiment that he was somehow responsible—that as the seasoned mechanic and racer he should have slowed James Dean down on that day.

Do some people think that at the time of the accident he was driving the Spyder instead of James Dean?

I dismissed that out of hand, because James Dean's feet were tangled in the clutch and brake assembly at the time of the accident. But Lew Bracker told me he would not have been surprised if Rolf was driving instead of James Dean, because he had that kind of personality.

What kind of personality?

He could be pushy and kind of imperious about things involving cars. He was impatient. Like Arnold Schwarzennegar, his difficulties with the English language didn't help. He would push people aside and take over. Don Dooley was a witness to the accident and he swears to this day that James Dean was not driving. The mechanic was driving. He says he can only imagine it was covered up to protect Rolf's career.

Did Rolf try to kill one of his wives?

He apparently had many, many problems after the death of James Dean. I've been told he was on medication and that when he stopped taking it, he experienced episodes like the incident with his wife that resulted in his spending time in a sanitarium of sorts. He may have been manic-depressive. Apparently his life resumed a semblance of normalcy once he got back on his meds.

One of the news reports at the time he was killed, said he had recently signed a book contract to tell his story of his days with James Dean. Is that true?

I haven't been able to track that down. But Alex von Wechmar of German TV is making a documentary of him and has interviewed a lot of people, located family members and talked to people who worked with Rolf both here and in Germany. It is scheduled to air in Germany on September 28. I hope it airs here.

What if James Dean left a secret he never knew existed?

Chapter One
Sad and lonely Glenn Miller music played inside the blackened cockpit of a Mercedes which now showed 120 miles per hour from the fluorescent panel -- and climbing. The yellow-green eyes of a beautiful blond woman checked the speedometer then back to the deserted beach freeway, where a full moon rested on the luminous water. Her hand reached for her Mother in the passenger seat -- protectively touching the URN -- and making sure it was firmly strapped into the seat belt as the Glenn Miller music softly continued its melody of sorrow and pain.

The black Mercedes screamed down the deserted freeway like it had a predetermined destiny with no fear of high and dangerous speeds. Di smiled. Her high cheekbones and full lips were seductive; long half curly blond hair had a mind of its own which she pushed off her shoulder. There was something very familiar in Di's charismatic archival eyes; right out of a great movie from TCM that Hollywood would never relinquish to another dusty phantom - shelved and forgotten. No, this face belonged to one of the greats who was a combination of mystery and magnetic animal upon the sumptuous big screen. Like him, Di's only obscurity was the glasses she wore to combat terribly near-sighted eyes and her almost ashamed shyness which like a spirit accompanied her everywhere. Slowly... the ghost of a small child now appeared in the back seat - crying and alone - hands folded to her chest. Glenn Miller music echoed into the tiny, lost and lonely sobs.

Di shivered and squinted at the freeway ahead while tears flowed down her cheeks and the fluorescent light caught bits of the reflections like tiny crystals. As far back as she could recall the rear seat of a car was where she was told to "hide and keep quiet" -- especially when her Mother was talking about a place called Santa Monica. There was another word her Mother used and her voice changed in tone when that word was spoken. Hollywood. Her Pop would always remain stoic while driving and listening, only occasionally nodding until the whisper of a name vaporized into the backseat like a heavy fog. James Dean. That's when the wind passing by the window became her best friend because tiny as she was -- the sound of that wind was part of him -- and she loved it.

Di wiped away the tears from the side of her cheek and turned to her Mother's urn. "Why did you abort me... after I was born?"

As the amber sun began to rise over the ocean Di sat in the sand with her Mother's large urn by her side. The fresh sun caught a piece of the urn and illuminated it while the waves tumbled to shore -- and soft, soft Glen Miller music echoed above it all. "Who would I have been Mother? I need to know..." Di pulled the urn close to her side.

He was old now and walked slowly to the chair where Di sat, holding her Mother's urn. His face had been punished by the years and years of his wife's deceit, lovers and lies. The face seemed so sad in the frigid living room. "Thank you for coming by tonight." Her Pop, clearly uncomfortable, sat down with a heavy sigh pulling a blanket to his lap. Another sigh, the old man looked as though he was about to explode from pain - the kind of dark pit, rotten pain -- that had been withheld until now. Cautiously studying Di the words began to flow. "... There is a story now I must tell you about your birth." Lightning exploded inside the room.

"... My conscience clearly cannot go on pretending these things didn't happen... because they did and you have a right to know all of it..." Di sat upright, her yellow-green eyes rupturing tears of abandonment she refused to relive. Not now. Not ever. Please. Her Pop's voice faded in a distorted echo of Glenn Miller music. Glasses fell from her face. The lightning hit the room again, the blurred into the scary back seat of a car with her Mother's voice demanding "Quiet... I'll be right back. Stay down." Car door slammed and her Mother's footsteps clicked farther and farther away... until that dead silence pierced her tiny heart into sobs. Rocking sobs. Arms folded to her chest sobs...

Di ran under the pepper tree and held her Mother's urn up to the soft leaves as if the could help cover all of the dirty tears -- like a blanket -- over a broken child. But, pain stood out from behind her eyes because what she really wanted to do... was stomp on the urn until it went back into the where it would be enslaved in its own filth. Forever.

From the darkened yard he pushed the branches aside and silently stood. With the protective instinct of an animal Di lunged at the old man -- halting just inches from the worn face who had raised her. An embarrassing shyness pushed her body back into the whispering pepper tree where shadows hid tormented pain. Glenn Miller music matched the soft breeze that suddenly began. "You don't need to explain anything to me Pop I know I'm damaged... I've known it since I was born. And. That's not a secret, you know it too." Wounded animal eyes reached out from the leaves of the tree and studied his face like a lost child.

The old hands started to reach out stop and pull back knowing here words were, true. "Your life hasn't been fair, this I know. If I could take the years away and change everything, her secrets, lies, especially lies concerning you... then I would." His head lowered in defeat. "If, is no excuse either. I should have stopped her and I didn't."

Di came out of the shadow just enough to show a face ridden in tears and torment because his words had ripped open another piece of her heart. "... Why did she do it? Why did she -- murder me?"

Part of Di didn't want him to leave her under the pepper tree but somehow she knew he would walk away like he always did when she needed him most. She watched the old man make his way up the path and finally vanish behind the hedge. Sad, Glenn Miler music whistled through the leaves - and Di ran from the pepper tree disappearing into black.

The ghost of a tiny child, weeping and holding on to the trunk of a pepper tree... also vanished into black.

You can purchase the book at Amazon.com

Source: http://www.didean.net/hollywoodlit.html

Warren Beath's Interview with Bill Hickman "James Dean died in my arms"

Bill Hickman was at the wheel of James Deans Ford wagon on September 30, 1955. He is pictured in the Sanford Roth photos taken at Competition Motors, and he was ticketed at the same time Dean was ticketed for speeding. He came upon the accident immediately afterward. I spoke to Bill Hickman in 1983, three years before he died. Bill Hickmans movie credits can be found at http://imdb.com/name/nm0382707/ He knew James Dean through Jane Deacy, and Deans interest in cars and racing.

WB Were you with James Dean the night before hewas killed?

BH Jimmy was just a great guy. We practiced in thecar Thursday night.

WB Do you recall how you got to Competition Motors the next morning?

BH I drove with Jimmy in the Ford wagon. That was a bad day.

WB You remember stopping at Blackwells Corner?

BH And I told him, there, Watch out for the people making a left turn Turnupseed probably didnt see him, you know. Jimmy said, Dont worry, Big Bastard. He called me Big Bastard and I called him Little Bastard, thats what that meant, the name of the car.

WB You were close friends?

BH Oh yeah, Jimmy was just a great guy. Jimmy died in my arms, you know.

WB He did?

BH We were about two or three minutes behind him. I pulled him out of the car, and he was in my arms when he died, h is head fell over. I heard the air coming out of his lungs the last time. Didnt sleep for five or six nights after that, just the sound of the air coming out of his lungs.

WB And Sanford Roth?

BH I couldnt believe it, he was standin there taking pictures. YOU SONOFABITCH, HELP ME, COME HERE, HELP ME! I was yelling. I couldn't believe it.

WB You followed the ambulance to the hospital?

BH Then the ambulance got hit. There was a police car behind the car that hit the ambulance. Yes, and then to the funeral home.

WB Did you ever see the body?

BH I saw him again after he was cleaned up, they let me in. He wasnt beat up that bad. His forehead was pushed in and he had several bad cuts. I really couldnt believe he was dead. I had seen my father die, and Id been in the service. But it really got to me.

WB Why do you think the photos Roth took of Jimmy in the car havent surfaced?

BH I think Roth got paid off by insurance. Von Neumann was afraid of a lawsuit, he brought the car back to LA under a tarpaulin. I think Von Neumann had a piece of the action of the Volkswagen distributor ship in LA.

Writing Rebel: Screenwriter Stewart Stern Remembers...

Writing Rebel

Screenwriter Stewart Stern Remembers
by Chale Naufus

Stewart Stern lay in the darkened end of his rented room in the lower level of a hillside house in Laurel Canyon. In the dim light of a desk lamp lay a yellow notepad, four words written in green ink across the top -- Rebel Without a Cause. The rest of the page had been terrifyingly empty for the whole day. Director Nicholas Ray called that night and asked, "How's it going?"

"I haven't started yet," Stern replied.

A pained silence, then that hollow, wounded voice: "You'd better start."

The maverick director of They Live by Night and Johnny GuitarTeresa, the screenwriter's sole credit thus far, and suggested that Stern drop by Warner Bros. for a chat. Stewart didn't know that the meeting had been encouraged by Stern's new friend James Dean and his old friend Leonard Rosenman, who had composed the music for East of Eden and would do the same for Rebel. Stern met with Ray and producer David Weisbart at Warners a few days later. The director talked passionately about his ideas for a film about alienated teenagers struggling not with poverty, but with their parents' distance, and forging their own realities, conflicts, and loves. Leon Uris and Irving Shulman had tried to turn Ray's vague thoughts into a workable script, but Ray needed the sensitivity toward young people that Stern had shown in Teresa. At lunch, Ray talked about his problems being a father, and Stewart discussed his problems being a son. A veteran of World War II, survivor of an unhappy childhood himself, and deep in psychoanalysis, Stern also understood the deep friendships possible between boys suddenly forced by circumstance into being men. had only recently met the 32-year-old screenwriter at one of Gene Kelly's Sunday soirees. After a "ferocious game of volleyball," then charades with Marilyn Monroe and other guests, Nick Ray walked over and complimented Stern on

The first reading of Rebel Without a Cause

clockwise from bottom left: Nicholas Ray, Stewart Stern, James Dean, unidentified, Jim Backus, Natalie Wood

Guaranteed $1,000 a week and required to meet a 12-week deadline beginning December 30, 1954, Stern haunted the Los Angeles Juvenile Hall to listen to testimony from troubled kids and read case histories until he found his characters.

After Nick Ray's ominous phone call, Stern drove down to Hollywood Boulevard to walk around and think but found himself watching On the Waterfront instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty and courage of the film, he suddenly felt released to write intimately about himself and his friends and their relations with their parents. He sat down and wrote a devastating prologue scene.

Ray was pleased that Stern had finally begun to write and sent him back to Juvenile Hall to study its glass-partitioned offices, which Ray wanted him to use in dramatizing the separation and connection between the principal characters in the opening scene. Completely fired up, Stern was able to write the entire police-station sequence in one day. Three weeks later, he handed Nicholas Ray 42 pages of Rebel.

Satisfied that he had found the right screenwriter, Ray began to cast the picture around the "force that was James Dean." Moving into a Warners office with a desk full of "the detritus of other agonies" and walls of peeling paint, Stern amazed himself by turning in a completed script of 126 pages by February 25. He explains, "I was caught up in the same kind of fervency and speed that the characters were. It was a time in my life when I had so much to unload, so many things to figure out through the writing of that script." After ongoing consultations with Ray, Weisbart, and the cast, Stern produced the final draft of Rebel on March 25, three days before filming began, 12 weeks after Stern was hired.

Stewart decided to go to New York to avoid being on the set. "Jimmy had confided to me his doubts [about Ray], and I knew if I were there, he would be pulling me into his dressing trailer all the time to ask me what I thought. Given Nick's sensitivity and the importance to him of his relationship with Jimmy and how totally that film would depend on the state of the relationships between the director and his actors, I just felt it would be too destructive if I couldn't control myself about things I saw happening that I didn't like. I decided to stay away."

Before leaving for New York, Stern told Ray he was willing to be on call for any necessary rewrites. He and Ray also had an agreement that the dialogue would not be changed. "He gave me his word, and he really was pretty good about it." They checked in with each other by phone after the day's shooting on many occasions.

Nicholas Ray finished shooting his version of the picture on May 26, 11 days over schedule, and the next day went "off-salary." The editing of Rebel was supervised by producer David Weisbart, who had been an outstanding editor (A Streetcar Named Desire) before becoming a producer. When Stewart Stern saw the first preview, he considered it endlessly long and overindulgent: "You thought people would never get to the line they were saying. The pauses were all so pregnant, and Nick had stuck in lines I hated and cut out things I loved."

In the theatre lobby, Stern ran into Weisbart and told him,"I hate this film."

David replied, "Well, it's got a ways to go."

The two sat down with Jack Warner and his assistant Steve Trilling and talked for hours about how the next cut could be improved. At the same time, Stern recognized Ray's brilliant contributions -- "the color palette, the ballet of that knife fight, and the whole Götterdämmerung aspect of the chicken run and burning car and more. Much more."

By the time the film was released in late October 1955, James Dean had been dead a month. Stern couldn't watch the film without mourning his lost friend. Once he brought himself to see it years later, he was finally able to tell that it was the picture that moved him just as much as the death of its young star.

Along the paths he now walks through the arboretum near his home in Seattle, Stewart has "animated the trees with the souls of deceased friends" so he will have "a place to put my thanks because all those people changed my life." As he passes by, touching each tree, he greets the "large, beautiful, big-leaf maple covered in moss halfway up the trunk in the deep shade of other trees." In that tree live Jimmy Dean, Natalie Wood, Sal Mineo, David Weisbart, and Nick Ray. Though disappointed that not all the carefully crafted words and relationships made their way from script to screen, Stewart Stern has finally accepted the cinematic version of Rebel Without a Cause and is grateful for its long and meaningful life.

Source:
http://www.austinchronicle.com/issues/dispatch./2000-06-16/screens_feature2.html

Warren Beath talks about Sanford Roth and the Death Photos

Did Sanford Roth take pictures of Dean's body?

Definitely. Here are two of them.

He is under a blanket in those pictures and the ambulance men are taking him to put him in the ambulance.

And here's a third, you can just see his feet under the blanket in the back of the ambulance.

I haven't seen that picture. So he did take pictures of Dean dead. But did he take pictures of
Dean in the car?

Sanford Roth said he did, if he was quoted correctly in a LIFE MAGAZINE article on Dean the year after the accident. He said no one would ever see them, that they were grisly and ghoulish, something like that. Bill Hickman, who was there, said Sanford Roth took pictures of Dean in the car. Roth never denied it, to my knowledge, while he was alive.

But his widow denied it.

She was madder than a wet hen after my book came out. She demanded an apology, and I told her I was sorry if I had hurt her feelings. She said you couldn't trust what Bill Hickman said. Then, she said Sandy only took the pictures for "insurance purposes." Now, I found that as callous as taking pictures of him in the car. At a time like that, would you be thinking of insurance companies?

Why else do you think such photos exist?

Maybe they have been destroyed. But I believe they existed at one time. Another Dean biographer, very reputable, told me about visiting Beulah and her brother* the screenwriter* brought up the subject of Dean in the car and told her to show him the pictures, indicated a drawer.

And he saw them?

She refused to take them out. In the last twenty years of her life there was quite a cottage industry around her and the cachet of being "Dean's friend". And to traffic in the pictures or even concede their existence would have diminished the golden corona with which she was awash among Dean fans.

What else?

Beulah pointed out, and it is to his credit, I suppose, in this controversy, that no photos of the crash were published while Sandy was alive. She said they were not published until years after Sandy passed away, but in fact they began appearing almost as soon as he was dead. His story "Assignment I'll Never Forget" was published a few months after he died, and with it was the classic Roth photo of the wreck with Rolf on the ground.

When did they next appear?

I believe more of the photos next surfaced in Rene Chateau's French biography of Dean in the seventies. Rene was a close friend to Beulah.

The book "A Passion for Speed" purported to show the unbroken strip of negative to refute the idea that Roth took any pictures of the wreck other than those already published.

If it hasn't been tampered with, that would be good evidence. And if Roth had only one camera. On the other hand, there is Roth's own statement that the pictures existed, and Bill Hickman's recollection. And so it goes...

"My Case Study" James Dean's autobiography

I, James Byron Dean, was born February 8, 1931, Marion, Indiana. My parents, Winton Dean and Mildred Dean, formerly Mildred Wilson, and myself existed in the state of Indiana until I was six years of age. Dad's work with the government caused a change, so Dad as a dental mechanic was transferred to California. There we lived, until the fourth year. Mom became ill and passed out of my life at the age of nine. I never knew the reason for Mom's death, in fact it still preys on my mind. I had always lived such a talented life. I studied violin, played in concerts, tap-danced on theatre stages but most of all I like art, to mold and create things with my hands. I came back to Indiana to live with my uncle. I lost the dancing and violin, but not the art. I think my life will be devoted to art and dramatics. And there are so many different fields of art it would be hard to foul-up, and if I did, there are so many different things to do -- farm, sports, science, geology, coaching, teaching music. I got it and I know if I better myself that there will be no match. A fellow must have confidence. When living in California my young eyes experienced many things. It was also my luck to make three visiting trips to Indiana, going and coming a different route each time. I have been in almost every state west of Indiana. I remember all. My hobby, or what I do in my spare time, is motorcycle. I know a lot about them mechanically and I love to ride. I have been in a few races and have done well. I own a small cycle myself. When I'm not doing that, I'm usually engaged in athletics, the heartbeat of every American boy. As one strives to make a goal in a game, there should be a goal in this crazy world for all of us. I hope I know where mine is, anyway, I'm after it. I don't mind telling you, Mr. Dubois, this is the hardest subject to write about considering the information one knows of himself, I ever attempted.

"My Case Study" to Roland Dubois,
Fairmount High School Principal, 1948

Along Came A Spyder

This was in an article called "T-Rack Talks: I listen and gather intel," by Frank Michadeit in the OC Register on January 12, 2007. It's an excerpt about James Dean's infamous Porsche Sypder.

For those who don't know who John Crean is, he was the founder for Fleetwood RV's (Recreational Vehicles).

"As you'd figure, my favorite story about John Crean, who died yesterday, involves a Porsche. Some might say the Porsche. As related to me by his longtime Stan Tkaczyk, it goes like this: By the mid-'50s, Crean decides he's done with racing. But one day, the Porsche dealer in Hollywood calls to say he's just taken delivery of a very special new Porsche, a street-legal race car. Because Crean is a preferred customer, he's holding it for him. Thanks, but not interested, Crean says. A week goes by, and the dealer calls again. He's got a guy who wants to buy the car, but will give Crean one more chance. I'm out of racing, Crean says; sell it to him. The buyer was James Dean. The car was the silver Spyder he named The Little Bastard and drove into immortality."

The Curse of James Dean's Spyder

Fact or Myth? You decide.

The Curse of James Dean's Porsche

Friends told James Dean that the car was trouble when they saw it - a rare Silver Porsche Spyder, one of only 90 in 1955. Nicknamed "The Little Bastard," the car carried the iconic screen rebel to his grave on September 30, 1955.

After the accident, many fans refused to believe Dean was dead. A story circulated that he was still alive although terribly disfigured, and in true urban legend fashion this tale took on a life of its own.

I won't go into all the James Dean as a cult idol stuff except to say his mystique has staying power. For example, his tombstone was stolen twice in 1983, and in 1985 had to be replaced because of damage done to it by fans. Seems he was still the popular fellow despite having been dead for three decades.

After the tragedy, master car customizer George Barris bought the wreck for $2,500. When the wreck arrived at Barris' garage, the Porsche slipped and fell on one of the mechanics unloading it. The accident broke both of the mechanic's legs.

While Barris had bad feelings about the car when he first saw it, his suspicions were confirmed during a race at the Pomona Fair Grounds on October 24, 1956. Two physicians, Troy McHenry and William Eschrid, were both racing cars that had parts from the "Little Bastard." McHenry died when his car, which had the Porsche's engine installed, went out of control and hit a tree. Eschrid's car flipped over. Eschrid, who survived despite serious injuries, later said that the car suddenly locked up when he went into a curve.

The car's malevolent influence continued after the race: one kid trying to steal the Porsche's steering wheel slipped and gashed his arm. Barris reluctantly sold two of the car's tires to a young man; within a week, the man was nearly involved in a wreck when the two tires blew out simultaneously.

Feeling that the Porsche could be put to good use, Barris loaned the wrecked car to the California Highway Patrol for a touring display to illustrate the importance of automobile safety. Within days, the garage housing the Spyder burnt to the ground. With the exception of the "Little Bastard," every vehicle parked inside the garage was destroyed. When the car was put on exhibit in Sacramento, it fell from its display and broke a teenager's hip. George Barkuis, who was hauling the Spyder on a flatbed truck, was killed instantly when the Porsche fell on him after he was thrown from his truck in an accident.

The mishaps surrounding the car continued until 1960, when the Porsche was loaned out for a safety exhibit in Miami, Florida. When the exhibit was over, the wreckage, en route to Los Angeles on a truck, mysteriously vanished. To this day, the "Little Bastard's" whereabouts are unknown.

Sources:

AMC's Hollywood Ghost Stories television special