Mirrorman Paul Callan: The day I met Doris Day
In 1968, Marty died and Doris was left floundering. But then son Terry had a showdown with Marty’s lawyer and discovered the terrible truth. DORIS Day paused from toying with her vegetarian eggs Benedict breakfast – and suddenly burst into Que Sera, Sera – Whatever Will Be, Will Be.
“Isn’t that song great?” she said in the warm and husky voice that was her trademark.
She paused and, for a moment, looked so serious. “In so many ways, that song has been the journey of my life.”
We – Doris, Mirror photographer Kent Gavin and me – were having breakfast together in the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel in Los Angeles. This is where Hollywood aristocracy gathered to be seen – and they didn’t
Paul and Doris come grander than the frecklefaced blonde sitting next to me.
Those also having breakfast heard – and burst into applause.
We spent the evening before prowling the streets of Beverly Hills pursuing the great, then new campaign of her life – looking for stray dogs and cats to feed and find homes for.
Hollywood’s Girl Next Door had founded the Doris Day Pet Foundation and every night she would patrol the streets to look for abandoned pets.
This passion for animals was born after her small, black tan dog Tiny sprang from her arms and fell under a passing truck.
She said, near to tears: “I felt so guilty he wasn’t on a leash.”
It became her life’s mission to care for neglected animals.
“I don’t think I’ll sing again,” she said. “Who knows? Just now, it is animals. They are unquestioning.” That was her new future. Que Sera, Sera…