Pardon My Hearse: A Colorful Portrait of Where the Funeral and Entertainment Industries Met in Hollywood (39 page)

As he pondered his decision, a large crowd gathered to purchase books and have the author sign them. Since Ed had chosen our meeting place, Drake asked if he knew what book was being sold that day. Ed said that an award-winning
Time-Life
photographer, Leigh Wiener, had published a book on the thirtieth anniversary of Marilyn’s death. He said the book had photos Leigh had taken at her home, the coroner’s office, and the cemetery. “Well why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Leigh’s book would have to have some photos with Ron and me because we were both were pallbearers and also assigned tasks to perform concerning all aspects of the funeral. The probability of these events coinciding without my knowledge was absolutely stunning.

We asked a hostess to bring us a copy of the book, which was called
Marilyn: A Hollywood Farewell
. Sure enough, there were a number of photos that showed us both. The hostess overheard me pointing out our pictures and asked if she could tell Leigh. We were then introduced, and he asked me to sit down so we could talk. At least a dozen people were lined up to purchase his book, but he just kept talking to me in spite of them.

Leigh told me he would make me a couple of 8” x 10” glossies from his original negatives, because they would show more detail than the photographs in the book. He was also delighted when I purchased two copies at $90 each. He signed both but wrote a special dedication in one expressly for me. It read, “This is a special book for Allan L. Abbott. You are in this book. It is a pleasure to share this strange and sad experience with you—separated by so much time—I hope you find meaning and pleasure in truth from these photographs and words. My very best, Leigh A. Wiener, 14 November 1991.”

About a week later, Leigh called to say that the photos were ready and gave me his address. Surprisingly, he lived only a mile from me just
off Mulholland Drive. After receiving the photos, I asked him how he was planning to market his books. He told me that he had scheduled book signings at a number of major cities, but he could not attend them because he had just gotten out of the hospital and was too sick to travel. I asked him if he had made arrangements to have them sold in bookstores, and he said he had no interest in people pawing through a sample copy out of curiosity or tearing out a page. He explained that the book represented a high point in his career and was not an issue of money. Only 500 copies were printed, a quarter of which he had signed.

There was no question in my mind that funeral directors were the perfect customers for the book, because Marilyn’s was the funeral of the century. I offered to market it through
Mortuary Management
if Leigh would allow me exclusive distribution rights. He was willing to consider my proposal, pending a review of our magazine. After I showed him several copies the next day, he agreed and my ad started the following month. The books sold briskly.

When my supply ran low, I made an unannounced stop at Leigh’s house, which was on my way home. His wife, Joyce, answered the door and said Leigh was unavailable, but when he heard my voice he hollered, “Allan, is that you?” Leigh was on a massage table in his living room, receiving physical therapy. He had been fighting the government for years to get them to pay for his medical expenses.

Leigh was one of the photographers present at the Trinity atomic bomb test in Alamogordo, New Mexico, only seven miles from ground zero. Many people present at the test claimed they became sick due to their proximity to the radiation, and some had died prematurely. The doctors Leigh had consulted with stated that most of the people they had seen with this rare blood disease had been exposed to high levels of radiation. Three days after my stop at his house, Drake called me to say that he had seen Leigh’s obituary in the newspaper that day. I called his wife to offer my condolences and found that the funeral service was going to be private, for family only.

After my supply of books was gone, I called Joyce to see if she would furnish the remaining copies to me. The IRS had paid her a visit, explaining that she would be required to hire an expert to appraise everything that Leigh’s business owned, including all of his cameras, negatives, and published books. In light of this overwhelming task, she
was no longer willing to sell me any more books. Sadly, our subscribers continued to write in for many months, requesting copies.

Before his death, I had asked Leigh how he had managed to photograph the interior of the coroner’s office, since they had refused requests from all other photographers. He had gotten the name of the officer who had turned him down the first day, and asked if he could check back the following day to see if there was any possible way to document the event. The deputy told him that he would be off the following day but assured Leigh that the policy had no exceptions.

Leigh went out and purchased a bottle of very expensive Scotch whisky and went to the coroner’s office the following day, asking to see his “friend of many years.” He was told that it was his friend’s day off, so he explained to the deputies on duty that he had just flown in from New York and brought this expensive Scotch to share with him because they hadn’t seen each other for many years. Leigh told them he had to fly back to New York the next morning, but it would be a shame to have to leave without anyone enjoying a drink with him. He proposed drinking it in friendship with the two guards. After a few drinks and a lot of conversation, he asked if he could take their pictures in front of the refrigerator doors, one of which held Marilyn’s body, as a personal keepsake. They agreed, and he got the shots for his book that no one else had been able to acquire. Leigh also said that he had taken a picture of Marilyn that day but that he would never allow it to be published.

At a much later time, I decided to give Joyce a call just to see how she was doing. What once was Leigh’s home phone was answered by an unfamiliar voice on a message referring to the Wiener Group. The next day, Devik Wiener called and informed me that he was Leigh’s son. He recognized my name and knew about my selling his dad’s book, for which he now owned the rights. The timing was perfect because he had just been awarded his father’s intellectual material in court, following a legal battle with his stepmother. He agreed for me to continue selling them again until they were all gone.

The only books available now are secondhand copies that change hands on eBay for hundreds of dollars. One mint-condition, signed copy was purchased for $1,200 by a young man in San Francisco. He called and asked if he could drive the two hours to my home to have me also sign his copy, which I did.

Drake and I shared ownership of the original 1951 Fox contract for years and eventually sold it, along with my other personal items from her funeral, to a well-established collector in Corona, California, who specialized in Marilyn memorabilia. He later consigned these items to an auction house in New York and everything went fast. A plastic envelope of five or six hairs fetched $2,000 each. In preparation for the sale of the falsies at the auction, someone had done a beautiful job of mounting them in a shadow box with a black lacquer frame and glass. A prospective buyer saw my signed letter of provenance on our company letterhead that was mounted inside the shadow box. He wanted me to authenticate the falsies because he was about to spend a great deal of money for them.

I examined a photo, but the falsies looked too perfectly round and I could not see the seam for the material stitched on the back. This led me to believe that they may not be the originals. I told him the photo was inconclusive, so he had the shadow box shipped to me for closer inspection. When it arrived I could see that matting covered the sides of the falsies, so I carefully raised an edge, revealing the ragged edges and stitching. That satisfied me that they were genuine.

Marilyn Monroe shadow box, featuring the falsies she used to accentuate her figure.

The media buzz from the auction generated a number of newspaper articles. Immediately after that, a call came in from the show
Hard Copy
in New York. The first question the lady asked me was “Why would Marilyn Monroe have used falsies?” I explained that her makeup man, Whitey Snyder, had told me that at 36 she felt that her breasts were starting to show the effects of gravity and that wearing falsies between her bra and sweater produced the effect that she wanted because she enjoyed being provocative.

She then asked about me doing an on-camera interview. I had no interest in traveling to New York, but she said they would be happy to come to my home. She had prepared a number of questions but mostly wanted me to discuss Marilyn’s reason for using falsies. My explanation was very clear, but not too explicit, only describing the definition created in her tight sweaters by wearing them. She asked the question again, with some slight nuances, and each time my response was that she wanted to give the impression that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

As I walked her out to their van in my driveway, the interviewer even commented that I had not used the “N” word, as she put it. Here I was going to be on national television and she was trying to get me to say the word “nipples,” but she wouldn’t say the word herself, even in our private conversation. A sure sign of nipple-phobia.

More recently I received a call from a man named Mark Bellinghaus, a collector and avid Marilyn enthusiast. He informed me that the
Queen Mary
in Long Beach Harbor was having a showing of a large number of Marilyn’s personal effects, and a woman named June DiMaggio had arranged with some shady promoters to sell alleged Marilyn memorabilia. She claimed that she was the niece of Joe DiMaggio, but, strangely, no one seemed to know who she was. Furthermore, she was never able to produce a single photograph of herself with Marilyn. Mark informed the media that the whole premise of her claims consisted of lies. None of them seemed interested in exposing this fraud, so he contacted me for further confirmation.

June claimed she drove in the car with Joe when he left the cemetery the day of the funeral, but a very clear photograph in Leigh’s book shows Joe being driven away and no woman is in the car. The book also had
dozens of other pictures taken that day and is a clear photographic record that June was never even at the funeral. She made preposterous claims that she cooked Marilyn dinner the night she died and that her mother was talking to Marilyn on the phone at the moment she was being murdered. After Mark started calling the newspapers and telling them this woman was a fake, some items were removed from the exhibit.

Drake called one day to inform me that the Marilyn shadow box was back on the market. We had both seen how such collectible items continued to rise in value, so we partnered together to acquire it. In 2012, on the 50
^th
anniversary of Marilyn’s death, we received a considerable offer for the box, which we turned down, knowing that it would be worth more to the right person. In 2011, Marilyn Monroe’s estate took in over $70 million. Today, she is still one of the most recognized women in history.

Living in LA made my involvement in so many different ventures possible. Many large cities have funeral livery companies, but only in LA, because of its proximity to Hollywood, could I have ventured into so many aspects of the entertainment industry, with celebrity limo drives and funeral car and prop rentals for movies and TV shows. And Los Angeles’ proximity to the ocean enabled us to offer our
Tribute
scattering services to mortuaries throughout the country. The Los Angeles Harbor between San Pedro and Long Beach is the busiest harbor in the world, receiving 45 percent of all freight arriving in America. It was also the ideal place for me to ship containers of hearses to countries all over the world.

In spite of its many benefits, life in LA was no longer remotely as it was when I was growing up there. Crime had become rampant, traffic congestion was miserable, and the air quality was dreadful. After Mischa finished college, he moved into the Pebble Beach condo that I purchased after selling the house there. He had to get away from the smog that was causing great difficulty with his asthma. Once Greg graduated from college, I was planning for us to make the move to the Monterey Peninsula as well. That would be the fulfillment of my dream since visiting the area for the first time in 1953.

Now all that was needed was to talk Ron into selling the business. Ron wasn’t keen on moving, and he told me repeatedly that there was nowhere else he would rather live. However, when I talked him into visiting Marin County, on the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge, he fell in love with the area and purchased a home in Tiburon.

After that, we directed our attention to things like finding a buyer for the mortuary and selling the movie cars and props as well as my funeral car exporting business. I sold all the props to three prop houses in LA. Meanwhile, one of our funeral counselors, Enoch Glascock, made an offer to buy the mortuary. After we worked out the deal, there were only
two things left to do—sell my house and find a new home for
Mortuary Management
, which we would continue to publish. Enoch allowed Greg and me to rent the upstairs office at the mortuary where the magazine had been operating since we moved there.