Poor Papa was never satisfied. I believe he drank to hide his disappointment in the world. While Mama pressed ever forward to make a home for their two daughters, he sought the bottle, and finally the road. When James Leigh Gish abandoned our little family, our uncommonly pretty mother was encouraged to pursue acting. The money was much better than taking in sewing and, with a change in name, one could avoid the scandalous implications associated with the theatre. Soon my sister Dorothy and I would follow her onto the boards. We had little to do but screech and swoon, but roles were plentiful for “tykes in peril.” My sister Dorothy was once thrown into a lion’s cage by a dastardly villain with a jetty mustache! All carefully staged, of course, but watching from the wings, I was so distraught I ran weeping to the dressing rooms.
A kindly aunt took us in during summer months and for years we lived in East St. Louis selling candy and popcorn. We also went to school (a little) and performed in school plays. Eventually our nomadic trio moved to New York where a neighbor named Gladys Smith told us of the new medium of film, where parts were plentiful. Being snobbish little actresses of the stage, we thought, “Poor Gladys. How she must have fallen to work in flickers!” (She proved us wrong, very wrong, when she achieved unprecedented stardom under her stage name, Mary Pickford.) Still, our interest was piqued when she mentioned a salary of five dollars a day. Imagine the boon this could be to our constantly strained finances! We decided to visit her at Biograph Company to see what the fuss was about. She introduced us to D.W. Griffith, a tall handsome Kentuckian with a courtly manner and booming drawl. Not yet famous for his epic full-length features or incredible contributions to the medium of film, Mr. Griffith was still a commanding presence to the tightknit group of beautiful actors he handpicked. They were fortunate in not having to worry about being recognized. Back then, performers in flickers were not credited. Our meeting with Mr. Griffith was fortuitous. He auditioned us on the spot and that very next day Dorothy and I filmed the suspenseful one-reeler, “An Unseen Enemy.” I was nearly 19 and Dorothy, 14. Our lives would never be the same. We had found mentor, friend and father figure in this tireless genius.
Little Doatsie, as she was often called, and I made many pictures together at Biograph, but soon developed individualized screen personas. I’ve always considered Dorothy the more talented, for she could incite both tears and laughter. She was a darling little clown whereas I, according to Mr. Griffith, was about as funny as a child’s grave. Instead I followed in the tradition of melodrama and took on virginal characters always on the precipice of destruction and ruin. I played these overwrought girls well into my twenties, much to my chagrin. Still, for Mr. Griffith, I immersed myself in my roles, sometimes not eating for days if I must film a death scene, all for realism! In “Way Down East” I had to float "unconscious" on an ice floe. It was so cold I got nerve damage in several fingers. In my first two years as a movie actress I appeared in over 25 short films, savoring every minute! How could I ever imagine my sister and I would enjoy these magical privileges for decades to come?
As we aged the film roles dwindled but Dorothy and I were always in demand for our first love, the stage. She even took time for romance, marrying James Rennie in 1920. They adopted a beautiful Jewish boy during WWII who remained the apple of their eye even after their divorce. I adore my nephew, also christened James, though he very quickly became Jamie to his doting aunt. In the 1960s we lost both his adoptive father James and my darling sister Dorothy, passing from the earthly realm much too soon. My sister’s death left a deep well of despair. I clung to Jamie, who grew into a fine, responsible, if impetuous, young man. He is now also an actor and I attend his every opening night or preview. I’m his date, he says, making me blush. I well know he could take any starlet he wishes. But it is good to be needed. Good to be loved.
