A NON-PROFIT PUBLIC BENEFIT CORPORATION

Toll Free Phone: 888-314-AMRFEmail: Audiemurphy@juno.comWeb Site: audiemurphy.com

AUDIE MURPHY RESEARCH FOUNDATION

VOLUME 9 © 2001

PO Box 1804Orinda, CA 94563

I believe in all the men who stood up against the enemy, taking theirbeatings without whimper and their triumphs without boasting. Themen who went and would go again to hell and back to preserve whatour country thinks right and decent.

My country, America! Audie Murphy1949

-1-

Courtesy of CeCe WhitneyCeCe Whitney with her minature schnauzer, Amanda.

Summer 2001

CeCe Whitney

Interview with CeCe Whitney – August 20, 2001 by Sharon Lovell

I understand that you played Goldiein Audie’s 1964 movie Bullet for aBadman. Can you tell me what youthought of Audie and a little aboutthe making of that movie?

Audie was a natural actor – and thatwas a surprise, because many timeswhen celebrities begin to make filmsthey are there because of their celeb-rity and not because of any talent.

That’s right. Audie was famous be-fore he went to Hollywood and insome ways I think that was againsthim. I am glad to hear you say thatabout his acting because there were

many people who just didn’t want togive him credit for his acting ability.They just kept thinking of him as ababy faced hero rather than an ac-tor.

Audie was very natural. Maybe be-cause we accepted him as an actor. Iremembered, of course, who he wasand we were reminded of it sometimes,but to me when I met him he was anactor. I remember thinking, “My word,he is really talented! How does he doit?”

He didn’t broadcast it, but the tag“America’s most decorated hero of

WW II” followed him every wherehe went and what ever he did. Hecouldn’t get away from it, but hedidn’t like it. Audie was a veryhumble man.

He really was. I didn’t know Audievery well. We just worked together andI met him on the set. My gut reactionto him was “What a very nice man, whata gentleman.” Not that that is surpris-ing in films. Many, many really greatactors are. The better they act usuallythe more gentlemanly they are. Ofcourse, that is speaking generally. JackLemon for example was just an abso-lute darling. And Ernest Borgnine,

CeCe Whitney was born in Shawnee, OK,where, at the age of three, she played an angelin a Christmas play. From that time on sheknew she wanted to be an actress. She landedher first professional role at the age of eight inan Oklahoma City production of The Red Mill– unbeknownst to her parents, but they finallyconsented to let her do it. Shortly after, herfamily moved to the California Bay Area,where she grew up. CeCe married bandleaderJimmy Vito. Traveling around the country withher husband, she did theatre work in Chicagoand New York before returning to Californiawhere she enrolled in the Pasadena Playhouse.Besides doing many feature films, including Bul-let for a Badman starring Audie Murphy, shedid almost 200 TV shows including Bonanza,Ben Casey, Kraft Suspense Theatre, AlfredHitchcock, and many more. CeCe is now re-tired and lives in Escondido, CA where shespends much of her time doing volunteer workto combat illiteracy.

© 2001. Permission hereby granted for excerpt reproduction by educators, newspapers, magazines and newsletters conditioned upon the Audie Murphy Research Foundation being credited as the source. All otheruses prohibited without written permission from the copyright holder.

-2-

people like that, couldn’t be kinder. Very few of the reallygood actors are not gentlemen. My impression of Audiewas that he was very quiet, yet very much his own man.

What do you think about the rumor that Audie had aliking for the ladies?

He certainly wasn’t sleeping with anyone or making anykind of passes at anyone — not that there were many girlson that set. I’m sure he did like the ladies but I say there isa difference between liking them and hitting on them justbecause they are there. As I said, I didn’t know him verywell except for working with him, but he had a wonderfulsense of humor, he really did. And we had a lot of fun onthat picture.

I’m glad you did, because it was rather a somber pic-ture.

I know, but when the director said cut, then it was a verypleasant job. I found it to be a very pleasant experience. Ihave to tell you a little story. You might remember therewas this scene where Skip Homier, whose name was Pinkin the movie, was Goldie’s protector and Audie comes in toGoldie’s saloon and immediately Homier and others begin

to whistle. And when Audie orders a sarsaparilla there is abit of a thing about it. As I came down the stairs, Skip waschallenging Audie about the drink someone bought him. So,I said, “Pull in your horns Pink, he’s drinking with me.” Well,we must have done that scene 50 times, because the firsttime we did it, when I said my line—“Pull in your horns Pink,he’s drinking with me,” there was a big silence and Skipsaid, “Pull in my what?” Well, Audie Murphy sprayed sar-saparilla everywhere. He just came unglued. And the wholeset of course just came off and they all laughed so hard, andI almost fell down the stairs laughing. We all thought it wasso funny. Audie was just taking a sip of this sarsaparilla andit just sprayed all over the place. Anyway, that went on allafternoon, I kept climbing up and down the stairs and everytime I said that line the whole set would break up and itwould start all over again. It was a fun day. Nowadays thatis one of the things they would show on bloopers. Audiejust kept laughing, he could not hold a straight face. Thewhole set was just broken up, but Audie was the one whoreally triggered it with his spraying.

You probably know that movies are not shot in sequence.Courtesy of CeCe Whitney

CeCe Whitney - 1964

Audie Murphy publicity shot from Bullet for a Badman1964

-3-

Unlike stage, movies are ratherchopped up. I did an awful lot of the-ater work; the stage was my first love.But there is a different technique usedwith films and especially with television.They really are different, because thereis a great deal more time on a movieset. For example, that particular scenewhere I was coming down the stairswas a completely separate scene fromthe scene where Audie and I are sit-ting at the table and talking. The latterscene was done on a different day. Thereason for this is that the scenes aredone to accommodate the sets. Ev-erything that is to be done on that par-ticular set is done in one day, if pos-sible. I don’t mean to say that some-

times they don’t have to come back andre-do some things later, but generallythey try to complete everything for thatset at one time. There are a lot of peopleinvolved that you never see and a lot ofexpenses involved, so time has to beutilized well. Then too, they shoot it fromdifferent angles. In the scene whereAudie and I are talking at the table theywere doing a close up on me, the cam-era was behind Audie. And when theycome in for a close up, they usually shootit several times—just the close up. Andwhen they did a close up on Audie, thecamera was behind me. So, you cansee these scenes are shot stop and go.When they did what is called a long-shot or a medium-shot, we might get

through an entire line. Or when theywere doing a close up on me whereAudie isn’t in the scene, we might getthrough the entire scene. But it couldtake an hour or two to totally changethe cameras and props and some-times the sets have to be moved. Ittook all day to do that one shot ofme coming down the stairs.

When my uncle was here, he wantedto see a Bonanza that I had done. Iwas thinking at the time we werewatching it that the scenes going intothe house were done on a totally dif-ferent set than the scenes done in thehouse. And since they are not donein sequence the script supervisor has

Behind the scenens shot from Bullet for a Badman - 1964

-4-

to keep tract of what clothes the actoris wearing – if the hat is on or off orwhatever. There is a lot of that kind ofthing that the person watching the showhas no idea about.

Back then the average person watch-ing the movie probably didn’t noticethe mistakes, because they just sawit once. But now with video record-ing, one can watch the same showover and over again. I have noticeda few mistakes in some of Audie’smovies. One in particular comes tomind. In one scene in The Red Badgeof Courage Audie has a bandanaaround his head. The next scene yousee him without it and then you seehim with it again.

That can happen. It depends on theeditor and the director. Sometimes theydon’t get together or agree on whatshould be cut and what not to cut.

Did you know that Audie provided aprop for the movie Bullet for aBadman? Sue Gossett, in her book,“ The Films and Career of AudieMurphy” relates that when the stu-dio prop department couldn’t comeup with a buffalo gun that wasneeded for actor George Tobias, whoplayed a grizzled old ex-buffalohunter, Audie reached into his per-sonal gun collection and filled thebill.

That doesn’t surprise me. That is ex-actly the kind of thing I would expecthim to do.

I appreciate you taking time to talkto me and for a delightful interview.You have given us an interesting be-hind the scenes look at what goes onin the movie business.

You are so welcome. It has been pleas-ant for me too. I’m sorry I didn’t knowAudie better. One thing that surprisedme, even after I met him, I alwaysthought of him as a big man because hewas such a nice guy. He wasn’t big in

Audie Murphy in Bullet for a Badman - 1964

-5-

the physical sense, but he was a big manin every other way. I really, thoroughlyenjoyed working with Audie. Oddlyenough, that movie has never left me,because I still get residuals from it. Ihave very fond memories of that movie.

THE MYSTERY OF THE MYTHICAL 1954 THIS IS YOUR LIFE SHOW

by Larryann Willis

On March 7, 1949 NBC dramatized Audie Murphy’s ex-ploits on a This is Your Life radio show hosted by RalphEdwards which was broadcast nationwide. While this showwas portrayed as a “surprise”, in actuality it was part of apublicity tour set up by the publisher of Audie Murphy’snew book To Hell and Back.

Audie was well aware that the broadcast was going to takeplace and that his old buddies Monroe Hackney, MartinKelly, James Fife and Walter Weispfennig were all going tobe there. In fact, Monroe and Audie practiced being sur-

prised while eating peanuts in the hotel room prior to thebroadcast. This was going to be fun.

What Audie did not know was that Lattie Tipton’s daughterClaudean was also going to be there. He was stunnedwhen she was introduced and walked onto the set. Audiewas so overcome with emotion that he broke down in tearsand could not speak for several moments. Ralph Edwardstried to make light of it – after all WWII heroes weren’tsupposed to cry. Audie managed to recover enough tofinish the show, but as soon as the microphone was turned

March 7, 1949 photo taken during the recording of the This is Your Life radio broadcast. Front row – leftto right: Ralph Edwards, Wanda Hendrix Murphy, Audie Murphy, Mrs. Biff Connelly (Audie’s first gradeteacher). Second row – Left to right: Claudean Tipton, Monroe Hackney, Walter P. Weispfennig, MartinKelly, James Fife.

-6-

off he walked out, not to be seen again that day by hiswartime buddies, or Spec McClure or Claudean, or evenhis wife of 2 months, Wanda Hendrix..

Wanda was embarrassed that Audie had so rudely left ev-eryone sitting around by themselves without so much as a“fare-thee-well” – especially since she had worked so hardto help bring Claudean to the show for the big surprise.And – Wanda was angry that Audie had blown the chancefor extra publicity for the book. How could her husband

that there are many errors in Mr. Graham’s book. Even so,it seemed odd that Mr. Graham would make such a signifi-cant mistake with something that could be checked out soeasily. I continued to wonder where Mr. Graham had got-ten the idea that Audie Murphy had done such a televisionshow.

Recently, while filing magazine articles in the Audie Mur-phy Research Foundation archives, I ran across a 1954Photoplay magazine article titled “This is Your Life AU-

ever succeed in this business if hecontinued to refuse to play the Hol-lywood game? When she caught upwith him, Wanda gave Audie an ear-ful.

It was the beginning of the end fortheir marriage. Nineteen year oldWanda could not begin to imaginethe horrors of war and the emotionaltoll it had taken on her husband. Herlife was centered around her ownHollywood career and making con-tacts. She simply was not emotion-ally equipped to live with a battlescarred veteran who suffered fromPTSD...and Audie was certainly notin any state of mind to cater to theneeds of an emotional starlet whowas “always on stage.”

Audie and Wanda separated within months and Wanda filedfor divorce on April 14, 1950.

Needless to say, Audie Murphy did not have fond memo-ries of the 1949 This is Your Life show. It seemed highlyunlikely that he would have consented to do another show –especially a televised version – in 1954. Yet Don Grahamin his book No Name on the Bullet, states that AudieMurphy had appeared in a televised version of This is Yourlife in 1954.

A few years ago, I called Ralph Edwards Productions andspecifically asked about this 1954 television show. Theytold me that there had been only one show with Audie Mur-phy and that was the 1949 radio show. They were em-phatic that no television show exists. I was sure that theyknew what they were talking about and I was also aware

DIE MURPHY” by RalphEdwards. The article seemed tobe a transcript of the mysterious1954 television show. I immedi-ately called the Ralph Edwardsarchivist, Patrick Gleason, whowas most intrigued and asked fora copy of the article so that hecould track down the source.

Mr. Gleason did a thoroughsearch of the Ralph Edwards Pro-duction archives and also visitedwith Mr. Edwards’ retired publi-cist who would have handled thepublicity if such a show had beenaired. He determined that thereis absolutely no possibility what-soever, that such a show was evershot. However, Mr. Gleason diddiscover that this article came out

at the very same time Universal Studios was doing publicityfor the release of Audie’s movie To Hell and Back.

According to Mr. Gleason, Ralph Edwards had been quiteimpressed with Audie Murphy and took a personal interestin learning more about him. Mr. Gleason believes that Mr.Edwards might have taken it upon himself to do some addi-tional unrecorded interviews with people who knew AudieMurphy in order to try to convince the production companyto do a television show. However, it was against their policyto do more than one show about any particular individual.

Mr. Gleason hypothesized that Mr. Edwards used his re-search material to write the Photoplay magazine article whichwas released in coordination with Universal Studio’s public-ity campaign to help promote the movie To Hell and Back.

Audie Murphy and Wanda Hendrix – 1947

-7-

Photoplay Magazine – June 1954

The following is the text of the abovearticle that appeared in the June1954 issue of Photoplay magazine.

You need no introduction here. Notonly have the eyes of Texas, but the eyesof the whole world have been upon yousince you were seventeen. Soldier andstar.

Yours is a life that stretches fromcotton fields to carbines and now, be-fore the cameras in Hollywood. Wehaven’t enough time to present thisevening all those who’ve shared youreventful twenty-nine years. Amongthem, those so well rememberedwho’ve walked with you through mis-ery and victory. From the deep heartof your own homeland, through thedesert of North Africa, across the

beachhead at Anzio and through greenvineyards in France.

Through the years, you’ve hadmany names. They’ve called you“Short-breeches” and “Irish” andducked when they called you “Baby-face.” Many have called you hero,though you yourself called heroes those“who didn’t come home.” Courage inany form is still a tender word to you.A word nobody uses who calls youfriend.

Once you defined bravery. “I’ll tellyou what bravery is,” you said, “It’sanger and hunger, and wet and cold—and wanting to be back in a country likethis. That’s what bravery is.”

You call yourself a gambler. Butwhatever the stakes, you’ve always hadto come from behind to win.

You’ve cursed many times theyouthful face that’s always seemed astranger to your seasoned years. “I’venever been young,” you said. “Neverfelt young.” Hard work and responsi-bility have been yours since you weretwelve years old. You were borngrown and you’d lived a lifetime—andmore—before you turned twenty-one.

You were born fighting, too. Fightingfor food and clothing and shelter enoughfor your mother and her large family.Fighting for knowledge and recognition.For your place in the sun—whateverthat sun should be. And you’ve madeyour own place—one higher than anyyou’d ever envisioned.

All of it begins with a determinedIrish dream that kept you company,while you chopped weeds in a Texas

-8-

cotton field.Remember that dream with us

now, AUDIE MURPHY, for THISIS YOUR LIFE!

We’re going back now, Audie—back to the little farm just outsideKingston, Texas—the little farm yourfather, Emmett Murphy, worked as asharecropper, raising cotton. It’s June20, 1924. You don’t remember theday—but you later gave the worldreason to remember. But your old-est sister, Mrs. Corinne Burns, nowof Dallas, Texas, remembers thatdate very well.

“I sure do remember, Ralph. Iwas fourteen years old when Audiewas born. He was the cutest babyI’ve still ever seen. Big eyes—thatlaughed at you all the time. I gavehim his middle name, the Leon—inAUDIE LEON MURPHY. Forwhich my brother has never forgivenme. But I thought they sounded nicetogether. Audie wasn’t the oldest boyin our family of nine, but from the timehe was a kid he always took all theworry and responsibility and lookedafter the family as best he could. Au-die was mother’s favorite—she triedto hide it, but she never quite could.Audie was always teasing. He couldalways make her laugh. And therewas little enough for any of us to laughabout. Mother had so much faith inhim even then. I remember she wasalways saying, “If Audie just had achance he’d make something of him-self some day.”

Your mother, quiet Josie KillianMurphy, with gentle brown eyes andglossy black hair that reached to herwaist, was so right Audie. Shecouldn’t know then that you some daywould make that chance and more.But she too, seemed to be searchingfor something. Perhaps the samesomething you were later to find.

It’s 1930—and you enter Celeste

Texas Grammar School. You take partin school activities, even playing SantaClaus with a pillow fattening your cos-tume. But most of the time your Irishpride is busy scrapping with the otherchildren who call you “short-breeches”and run. Your mother washes your onepair of overalls every night and driesthem by the kitchen stove. And everytime she washes them they shrink more.

Yours is a keen eye and a true aim.You learn to shoot rabbits with a sling-shot and to fell a squirrel with one stone.They are food for the table and youcan’t afford to miss. These are lean,hard days for any sharecropper. Oneday your father decides he’s not equalto providing for his large brood and justwalks out of your life and never returns.

You hire out as a farmer’s helper.You hoe and plough and you pick cot-ton. But yours are sensitive dreams andp i c k i n gcotton’s notpart of thoseadventurousdreams of sol-diering someday. Otherkids talk aboutbeing a fire-man or a cop,but you onlylisten to talesspun byWorld War Iv e t e r a n s .Plowing to-gether with thefarmer whohired you, youdream away inthe hot Texassun. You listenwide-eyed tothe stories hespins of his mi-raculous ma-neuvers with a

machine gun.Yours is a grim world for any

twelve-year-old, and war is an excitingescape. It helps pass time to dream upyour own way. The endless rows ofcotton become your battlefield, theweeds your enemy and the hoe in yourhand is the mysterious weapon thatsomehow always wins.

Your childhood dreams are to turninto tragic reality sooner than you sus-pect, Audie Murphy.

You’re sixteen years old and work-ing in a radio repair shop in Greenville,Texas, fourteen miles away, when youbeloved mother dies. You’re restlessand unhappy, and her search for some-thing better in life now becomes yourown. According to her last wish youplace the younger children—Nadine,Billy and Little Joe—in the GreenvilleOrphanage. [Note: It was Boles

-9-

Home, a Methodist Orphanage southof Greenville.] And in June 1942, youenlist. Your last word is “I’ll try to domy share of the fighting,” which turnsout to be the understatement of all time.

You excitedly board a bus for theinduction center. It’s the first time you’vebeen a hundred miles from home. Herebegins the second chapter of the inspir-ing story of the boy who dreamed ofbeing a soldier and what became of thatdream.

At Camp Wolters you pass out inyour first close-order drill. You get thenickname of “baby” and the combinedefforts of kindly commanding officersto try to keep you out of combat. Youalmost fight a war stateside to be sentoverseas. But finally in February 1943,you sail for North Africa as a replace-ment and you join Company B of the15th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Division,near Casablanca. An outfit in which youmeet the greatest guys in the wholeworld and you learn that war is not theadventure you envisioned. It is a des-perate business of inching and crawlingand stumbling with blistered feet everymile of the way that puts you nearerhome.

In thirty months of combat you ad-vance in rank from PFC in Africa to asecond lieutenant, and you win twenty-four decorations [Note: There wereactually thirty-three.], including theCongressional Medal of Honor, thusbecoming the most honored soldier inthe history of the U.S. Army. Yours isa two-word war and sometimes a one-man war. According to buddies ofyours, the two words you know are“hold” and “attack.”

On January 25, l944, you goashore in the bitter fighting at AnzioBeach and learn your machine gunnerhas been severely injured. He’s Ser-geant James Fife, a Cherokee Indianfrom Oklahoma with nerves of iron and

a fine eye for a target, with no knowl-edge of fear,. Although he’s quick tosay, “There wasn’t much wrong withMurph’s courage either, Ralph—.” Foraction at Anzio, you get the Bronze Star,but your description is “I was wishingmy shirt didn’t have any buttons—so Icould get closer to the ground.”

August 15 is a nightmarish day filledwith action. A day that brings you theDistinguished Service Cross and griefover the death of one of your best bud-dies—Lattie Tipton. A happy coura-geous guy who talked often of his homein Irving, Tennessee, and of his littledaughter, Claudine, a girl in pigtails whosymbolizes to you the innocents forwhom you’re fighting this war. You’veshared foxholes with Lattie since Sicily,and when he’s shot by enemy machinegunners who’ve raised a white flag, youcapture the whole hill to avenge thetreachery.

The weary months drag by. Thewar moves to the Vosges foothills andon October 2 you get the Silver Star.According to your buddy, Martin L.Kelly, now of Bar Harbor, Maine,“Murphy wasn’t even supposed to beon that patrol. He just tagged alongwith them because it was a dull day andhe didn’t have anything else to do.”

On January 26, in the Battle of theColmar Pocket, you order your com-pany to fall back, and you remain aloneto direct the artillery fire. A forwardfield artillery observer, Lt. W.W.Weispfenning of Jamestown, NorthDakota, tells how—atop a blazing tankdestroyer—you almost single-handedlystop a counter-attack of German infan-try supported by six tanks. You’re di-recting the fire with a liaison officer onthe phone and when he asks, “Howclose are they now?” you say casually,“Hold the phone, I’ll let you talk to one.”

For this, you get the CongressionalMedal of Honor.

You’re wounded three times dur-ing action, but you shrug it off. To ananxious sister back in Farmersville,Texas, you write, saying, “The fruit cakewas good, the one piece I got,” but you,yourself, can’t understand why yourluck holds.

In an Army hospital in SouthernFrance you meet a paraplegic, PerryPitt, today your neighbor in Van Nuys,California. Perry will verify your beefthat the whole operation was “just lay-ing around” in the hospital waiting foryour gangrenous hip to heal.

“Yes, Murphy was always trying toadvance when they wanted him to keepunder cover. He kept hobbling up theaisle on his good leg and the nurseswere always making him retreat. Someof the guys there from his outfit told mehe saw more action than even the Armyknew—but then they ran out of medalsanyway. We used to talk about whatwe wanted to do when we got back.Murphy thought he might have a store.Back home in Iowa I’d always wantedto have a stock farm.”

It’s June l945, now, Audie Murphy,and hiding among a plane load of gen-erals, you hope to come home “throughthe back door.” The fifth time, your luckdoesn’t last. You’re in for the full treat-ment—parades, speeches, bunting andbands. You’re escorted intoFarmersville by fire engines to the ropedoff square. You’re invited to speakbefore the legislature. You’re guest ofhonor at Texas A&M, and yourportrait’s hung in the state capitol.

Home seems more real to you inyour sister’s small cottage, surroundedby relatives popping questions at you.Your sister, Nadine, just a leggy ten-year-old when you went away, is a slimattractive brunette—an like any brotheryou want to know, “when did you startusing lipstick?” You pay the down pay-ment on a big, two-story white house

-10-

Audie Murphy and Terry Hunt – 1953

large enough for the whole family. Then,restlessly, you wonder where you willgo from here. Your hip wound rulesout West Point, and you consider be-coming a Texas Ranger. One thing sure,the battle of “short breeches” has lostits sting. All the things that once youwanted seem unimportant now. For youknow that the great ones of the earthare guys like Lattie and Kelly and Fife.

As days go by, Audie Murphy, yourealize you’ve still got an-other battle ahead of you.Perhaps the biggest ofthem all. Leaning to liveagain. And believe again.

But back home yousoon meet men who helpyou rebuild faith. Men likeJames O. Cherry, of Inter-Theatres, who advises youlike a father on every score;the late C. O. David, Dal-las oil man, who offers youhelp financially; RayWoods, Dallas automobiledealer, who insists on loan-ing you a car to drive. Youhave three fathers—morethan you’ve ever had. Driving home fromDallas one rainy night, youpick up a hitchhiker whosoon slaps you across themouth and attempts aholdup. You’re struck bythe irony of it all. To go all through thewar and then get it from a maniac likethis. Despite his 190 pounds, you fightit out in the mud beside the road andwin. At a gas station you call the high-way patrol. Some people accuse youof staging the whole thing as a publicitystunt. But State Highway patrolmanEverett Brandon believes differently andhe runs down a long prison record onthe man. Brandon becomes your closebuddy of today.

It’s July 16, 1945—your pictureappears on the cover of Life Magazineand three new people enter your ownlife. James Cagney offers you a motionpicture contract. On a mined battle-field in France, Spec McClure, Holly-wood columnist before he joined theArmy Signal Corps, spies a beat-upcopy of Life blowing across the field.The youthful Irish face, too young forits medals, sticks with him. It’s Spec

McClure who later assists you to putdown on paper your book, “To Hell andBack,” and at a Dallas airfield, a pretty,dark-eyed air hostess, Pamela Archer,is entranced with you. Through themonths, she becomes an ardent Mur-phy fan, saving every clipping—and sixyears later she becomes your wife.

But in Hollywood, the months rollalong confusingly. This is a battle you’renot geared to fight, for you’re unfamil-iar with the tactics of the opposing team.

Then, after all the restless waiting, whenyou finally get your first part—it’s twolines in “Beyond Glory,” starring AlanLadd. But you get to West Point onlocation. Then Cagney drops your op-tion. You refuse to commercialize onyour war record. As a man of actionand few words, you don’t understandthose who seem to be all words and noaction, nor why they make glowingpromises they never keep. So in Hol-

lywood you start againas a private and workyour way—but thenthis had been the storyof your life.

With your optionnow dropped, you’reliving in a two-by-fourapartment over a noisybus stop trying to makeends meet on your$86 pension—and stillsend money home.Terry Hunt, whom youmet when you weremustering out of theservice, insists youbunk in a resting roomat this health club. Youwork out there regu-larly in the gym. Yousleep on a massagetable because it’s morecomfortable for yourwar injuries. Now and

then you still talk about going back toTexas. But Terry Hunt has a thoughtthat can discourage it.

“I always kidded him, Ralph, tell-ing him he’d sure have to pick a lot ofcotton back there to make up for whathe gets in one week here. Audie’s hadenough bent-over kind of cotton pick-ing for life. I knew he had what it takesin Hollywood—if he would just wait itout. I’d remind him that the stakes arehigh here—and worth waiting for.

-11-

Sometimes he’d help out around theclub, putting the girls through their ex-ercise routines. Not long ago one ofthem remarked that she’d seen a pic-ture in a magazine of Audie Murphy—‘you know,’ she said, ‘he looks a littlelike the boy who used to work me outin the gym.’ That was modest Murph.They didn’t even know who he was.”

It’s July 1948—and your friendSpec McClure keeps urging you to start“To Hell and Back.” You want to get itall down on paper too. “So, I won’thave to think about it any more,” yousay.

But you have reason to thinkplenty—when you go back to Franceas the honored guest of the French gov-ernment. Back to that land so well re-membered with every road and everyravine still an open wound.

This time no booming artillery wel-comes you, but the frayed clothing, thethin faces, the ghostly ruins haunt you.Near the place where you won theCongressional Medal of Honor, a wholevillage turns out to honor you. The oldMayor dressed in his shabby black coat,children in costumes line the street andsing Alsatian folk songs for you. Watch-ing their faces, the tears come. Youremember you directed artillery fire onthat town.

You hunt out another rememberedterrain, too. Behind a farmhousethrough rich green vineyards that stretchuphill to a cork tree there are two Ger-man helmets. But for your own alerteye, there would be American helmetsthere today—Lattie’s and your own.

Back in New York, reportersswarm about you, America’s mostdecorated soldier, who returned to thebattleground for the first time. They’refull of questions—all the same. Theywant to know when you are going tomarry Wanda Hendrix.

It’s January 8, 1949—and your

wedding captures the romantic imagi-nation of all who know the story of howyou first met her on the Valentine coverof a magazine. But this marriage isdoomed almost immediately.

Your career, however, is getting offto a solid start. It’s February 1949—another triumphant time in your life—the world premiere of your first starringpicture, “Bad Boy,” in 34 Texas cities.The marquees blaze with “Texas’ OwnLovable Audie Murphy” and “AmericaHails a New Star.” In Farmersville thetheatre line stretches around the cornerof the local drugstore. At last count,your nephew Weldon and nieceCharlene have seen it six times.

Once more, sharecropper’s sonAudie Murphy has come from behindand won. You didn’t hit pictures whenyour medals could have been exploitedand helped you. But later, when suc-cess depended on your own merit asan actor and personality, there was nodoubt about your future. At Universal-International it has been growingsteadily.

It’s July 1950, and an ardent moviefan, Pam Archer comes to Californiaon vacation and finally meets her favoritepicture star. Her reactions?

“By this time, Mr. Edwards, I’ddone so much research on Audie, I feltI’d known him always. I cut out everyclipping about him. I watched him onthe screen. And once at a rodeo—wealmost met.”

You take the starry-eyed air host-ess to lunch at Universal-Internationaland on a personally conducted touraround the lot. You find it’s a pleasure.During the next six months you fly backand forth to Dallas, drawn by the pretty,part-Cherokee girl with the black hairand dark shiny eyes, the soft drawl andthat quiet honesty. Yours is a typicallyteasing proposal. When getting off aplane you say, “It would be a whole lot

cheaper for us to get married.”It is April 23, 1951—you are mar-

ried in a simple ceremony in the CoxChapel in Dallas with James O. Cherryas best man. The soft strains of “AveMaria” fill the chapel and symbolize thebeginning of a new life for you.

March 14, 1952, is a great day forthe Murphy’s, including your sisterCorinne, out from Texas for the birth ofyour first born. You name him Terryafter Terry Hunt. With his black hairand blue eyes he’s soon a swoon boy.

On March 23, l954, you have an-other son, James Shannon Murphy,named after your good friend, JamesO. Cherry. If you have enough sonsthey will be living memorial to those whostood by when a fatherless boy neededthem.

It’s May 1954—ten years nowsince Company B made history for valorin the 3rd Division—and you’re starringin your own account of their war—“ToHell and Back,” at Universal-Interna-tional. You wanted to put it on paperso you could forget it, you’d said. Nowyou still don’t know how you’ll feelwhen those cameras start to turn.

Yours is a full life now, Audie Mur-phy. You have two handsome, healthysons, a charming early American homeand a man-sized career. Today yourown son, Terry, plays soldier in yourback yard. He shoots a trusty waterpistol. He sings “The Star SpangledBanner,” and salutes everything—in-cluding the washing machine.

This is your life today, Audie Mur-phy. The life you’ve made. It’s yoursbecause of a boy’s dreams to be a sol-dier—and what you did with that dream.Because of you, life today for TerryMurphy—and all the Terrys—is a hap-pier reality.

THE END

-12-

-13-

Kathleen Noble of The Farmersville Times wrote in the paper, “Some men were just born for honor. AudieLeon Murphy was one of them.” And honor, the city of Farmersville did on Audie Murphy’s birthday June 20, 2001.While this celebration was not quite like the celebration on June 15, l945 where 5000 citizens gathered to welcome himhome from the war, many people gathered in Freedom Plaza, including about 50 local veterans that also were honored.The Plaza is a lovely area with two marble monuments dedicated to the memory of Veterans from WWI, WWII, Koreaand the Vietnam wars. One monument has Audie’s poem “Freedom Flies in Your Heart like an Eagle” inscribed on oneside and on the other side a special dedication in memory of him. The other monument is inscribed with the names ofthose veterans who died in the above wars and one of Audie’s most famous quotes “The real heroes of the war arethose who never came home.” The one thing that had not changed was the weather. It was hot and I could just pictureAudie sitting up on that platform in his dress uniform looking like he was about to pass out on that June day in 1945.

Nadene Lokey, Audie’s sister and Eugene Murphy, his brother attended. Nadene said, “The ceremony theyhold in honor of Audie here in Farmersville is very nice. We are so honored by the tributes paid to my brother. I wouldlike to make this suggestion to the public. Audie would have thought this all very nice, but he was a humble and re-served man, he might have thought it wiser to support something happening presently. Please consider making a dona-tion to the charity of your choice in Audie’s name.”

The sidewalks of downtown Farmersville Square were once again lined with people who admired Audie andmany that knew him personally. The streets and storefronts were decorated with red, white and blue banners and flags.Many of the stores had posters with Audie’s picture on them, announcing the coming event.

There were speeches by local dignitaries, a fly over, and a display of army trucks and equipment from FortHood on the street. The Charles J. Rike Memorial library in Farmersville has a nice collection of Audie memorabilia, soif you decide to come next year, be sure and stop by there. Pansy Hundley, the librarian will be glad to show youaround. To close the ceremony, two men standing on opposite sides of the street played “Taps” on their trumpets. Itwas very moving.

The Audie Murphy Day committee plans to enlarge the event every year, but it will always be held on Audie’sbirthday. So, come and see what they have planned. I know you will be pleasantly surprised. See you there!

AUDIE MURPHY DAYFARMERSVILLE, TEXAS

JUNE 20, 2001

Sharon Lovell

AUDIE MURPHY DAYSJune 22 & 23, 2001

by Annamarie Riley

The festivities opened Friday morning at the Texas National Guard Armory at 9 AM with the posting of the colors bythe 3rd Division, 15th Infantry from Fort Benning, GA. Cloral Lovell, Chaplain of the American Legion Post # 17 inGreenville offered the invocation, which was followed by recording artist, Kevin James singing our National Anthem. Awarm welcome was given to all by Judge Joe Bobbitt, Mayor Byron Chitwood and John Reynolds, President of theAmerican Cotton Museum. They talked about Audie as well as all those who served in WWII, none were forgotten.

Actor Paul Picerni, who acted with Audie in To Hell and Back, was the keynote speaker. He spoke of what a pleasureit was to work with Audie – probably the best time of his career. Paul received a surprise when a man he had servedwith in WWII, whom he had not seen for 50 years or more, was in the audience – a wonderful reunion.

After the program, we all gathered in the display room where pictures, posters and items from the Cotton Museum were

-14-

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

Meeting Audie’s sister Nadene Lokey and brother Eugene Murphy was great. They are very pleasant people andwillingly answered any questions they were asked. Roy McGee was a perfect host. He spent two days driving somefolks around and offered to dance with each one of the ladies who would attend the dance that evening.

The American Legion Post put on a Texas barbecue lunch, after which we again gathered at the Armory to hear Lt. Col.Dennis Smith talk about what it means to be a part of the great 3rd Division and especially the15th Infantry and thetraining they go through. The program ended with the retiring of the colors, by the great looking young men from FortBenning. The day ended with a dance put on by the American Legion Post #17.

On Saturday everyone gathered at the Cotton Museum where there are displays, machines and information aboutcotton and how it was handled years ago when Audie Murphy and his family worked the fields. There is a permanentdisplay of Audie Murphy memorabilia on the ground floor as well as upstairs. We saw several things donated by a friendof Audie’s, a hat, photos, etc.; and a miniature copy of the statue that is to be larger than life and will stand at the CottonMuseum when it is completed. The American Cotton Museum, the Ladies Auxiliaries of the Veterans of Foreign War,Lance, Inc., and the American Legion supplied refreshments during the day.

The festivities opened with a few speeches. Feller Goff, a longtime friend of Audie’s spoke. US Congressman RalphHall of Texas, paid tribute to all veterans and to his personal friend Audie of whom he said, “Never forgot his roots,and he will never be forgotten.” Sue Gossett read a lovely poem written by Elizabeth Folan, a dedicated fan fromEngland who was unable to attend. Music was provided by recording artist, Kevin James.

The highlight of the day’s affair was the unveiling of “The Murphy Seven”; paintings of Audie by artist Richard Krause,who was there and gave us the story behind each painting. He said, “I sincerely hope these paintings, insome small way, will perpetuate a towering soul.” By the sound of the “oh’s” and “ah’s” and applause from the audi-

Left to right: Ken Lokey, Nadene Murphy Lokey, Eugene Murphy

available – some to purchase and some to admire. Larry Winters and Wayne Cutshaw displayed their vast collectionsas well. Paul Picerni and his lovely wife, Marie, were there to answer questions, sign autographs and to sell copies ofthe script of To Hell and Back along with signed photos. Sue Gossett was there with copies of her book The Filmsand Career of Audie Murphy which she autographed with personal messages.

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

-15-

Special Thanks To:

DASHLINK, INC. of Killeen, TX for sponsoring the internet address dedicated exclusively to theAudie L. Murphy Memorial Website

www.audiemurphy.com

ence, I am sure they will. “By the Dawn’s Early Light” where Audie is kneeling, mourning the loss of his friend LattieTipton, was probably the favorite, but all were beautiful and inspiring. Mr. Krause graciously donated the paintings tothe Audie Murphy Research Foundation that put them on permanent display at the museum where they can be enjoyedby the public.

Two movie posters donated by Wayne Cutshaw to benefit the Cotton Museum were won by Teri Edge and DeAnnaGlause. Congratulations to both.

In the evening, Sue, John and I joined the convoy to the Audie Murphy Memorial Park in Celeste. On the way wesaw the spot where Audie was born. All that remains is a tree and a roadside marker. What was once a field ofcotton during Audie’s youth, is now a field of grass. At the park the Mayor of Celeste, Pat Jones, and Judge JoeBobbitt said a few words. Candles were lit and held by all of us; a prayer was said for Audie and all the veterans,after which Adrien Witkofsky, Director of the Cotton Museum, sang “Amazing Grace.” The American Legion Depart-ment of Texas Color Guard retired the colors with a 21 gun salute and this closed the Audie Murphy Days of 2001.

Audie Murphy Memorial Park, Celeste, TX – June 23, 2001Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

-16-

Annamarie Riley

Paul Picerni with his wife Marie

“Greenville, Texas is a wonderful community. The few days I spent there were a delightfulexperience. My wife, Marie, and I had a marvel-ous time. The people were very friendly. Theyhad one thing in common, they all loved AudieMurphy. I have always had a deep admiration forAudie Murphy ever since I worked with him in the1955 movie “To Hell and Back.”

“Audie Murphy was a true American hero. Heis deserving of all the adulation the people attend-ing Audie Murphy Days showed him. The peoplewe met in Greenville, Judge Joe Bobbitt, AdrienWitkofsky, Roy McGee, Feller Goff, Sue Gossett,Audie’s sister Nadene and brother Eugene, Con-gressman Ralph Hall and all the people ofGreenville,Farmersville, Celeste and the surround-ing countryside, were as hospitable as any we’vemet in the world.

“It was a memorable four days. We hope wecan do it again next year.”

Paul Picernias told to Sue Gossett

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

-17-

Artist’s rendition of the Greenville Audie L. MurphyMemorial currently under construction

“Jack Finney gave us an update on thestatue of Audie that at present is in thefoundry stages, and is expected to becompleted soon.”

Annamarie Riley

Thirty years have passedbut still our memories lastof our dear Audie.

Flags and banners fly around.Folk from all over the U.S.A.come to give their respect todayfor our dear friend Audie Murphy

He’s been gone now thirty years.Still we mourn and shed our tearsto him we hold this great respectfor a man who had few fears.

He was kind, brave and generousmysterious in some of his ways,kept to himself most of the time,he too had his bad days.

“I sincerely hope thesepaintings, in some smallway, will perpetuate atowering soul”

Richard KrauseArtist

June 23, 2001

In Memory of Audie L. Murphy1924 - 1971

Lets call him “The Cowboy from Texas”.His westerns approved of him that.Sitting high on his horse and saddlelooking proud in his ten gallon hat.

So celebrate all you Texansthese Audie Murphy Days.Show your respectfor our absent guestwho we have loved in many ways.

Elizabeth FolanEngland

May, 23, 2001

Courtesy of Sharon Lovell

-18-

Artist Richard Krause with some of the paintings he donated to the Audie MurphyResearch Foundation which are on permanent display at the American Cotton Mu-seum.

Special thanks to Richard Krause for sharing with us his inspirational

creation “Liberty Lives” which appears on page 19. We invite you to download, print out and display “Liberty Lives.”

God Bless America!

-19-

We hope that you have enjoyed this newsletter. Please feel free to print out copies to share with yourfriends.

We are always looking for volunteers who can help by printing and mailing copies of the new newsletter toat least one person who does not have Internet access. If you can help please email us atAudiemurphy@juno.com.

Even though delivering the newsletter via the Internet has helped to reduce our mailing expenses, we stillneed your continued financial support to help cover the costs of interviewing people and collecting andpreserving photos, newspaper and magazine articles and artifacts — as well as maintaining the website andmaking educational materials available to schools.

We hope you can continue to help. We appreciate your gift of:

( ) $20 ( ) $50 ( ) $100 ( ) other ____________________

Please make checks payable to the Audie Murphy Research Foundation. We can also accept VISA andMasterCard contributions:

Card no. _ _ _ _ - _ _ _ _ - _ _ _ _ - _ _ _ _ Expiration _ _ / _ _

I would like to be a monthly sponsor. Please bill the above amount to my credit card the fifthday of each month until I notify the Foundation otherwise.

Signature:_____________________________________________

Name: (Please Print):____________________________________

Address:____________________________________________________________

City:__________________________________State:______Zip:________________

Phone: _________________________________

Email: __________________________________ Thank

You!

AUDIE MURPHY RESEARCH FOUNDATIONA NON-PROFIT PUBLIC BENEFIT CORPORATION

PresidentTerry M. Murphy

Vice PresidentChris J. Glazier

Executive DirectorLarryann C. Willis, Esq.

PO BOX 1804Orinda, CA 94563

Toll Free Phone (888) 314-AMRFEmail: Audiemurphy@juno.comWebsite: www.audiemurphy.com