Starlet makes stunning live debut
From The Chronicle’s archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago:
1993
Feb. 5: From the peculiar exile known only to former U.S. Presidents, Jimmy Carter has emerged with a sense of humor that he did not possess while he was in office. In a two-day swing through San Francisco it was clear that Carter’s popularity has soared in the 12 years since his presidency. People roared with laughter when he recounted a conversation earlier in the week with a woman who looked at him soulfully and said, “If you still have lust in your heart, I’m available.” The story was a significant change from the painfully earnest Carter who confessed nearly 20 years ago in a Playboy interview to the sin of having lust in his heart.
Attracting lines of people yesterday at a book signing and drawing a standing-room-only crowd at a speech at the Masonic Auditorium on Wednesday night, Carter took the Bay Area by storm. Not that Carter was a tough sell in the heavily Democratic San Francisco, one of the few cities that Carter’s vice president, Walter Mondale, carried easily in his landslide defeat for president in 1984. However, the people at the speech and at the book signing at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books agreed that they like Carter even more today than they did when he was president from 1977 to 1981. “He’s not doing the Reagan thing; he’s not going to Japan and making millions,” said Sal Vergara of San Francisco, while he stood in front of the bookstore. “He has done something with himself since he’s been president,” Vergara said. “He builds houses and does things for people.”
— Susan Yoachum
1968
Feb. 6: Two foreign test drivers for the Maserati Co. of Italy had a unique excuse when they were flagged down on the Nimitz Freeway for speeding 105 miles per hour. Highway Patrol officer Russ Creamer released Jacques Maglia and Yoshiatso Itoh with a warning when they apologized that they had mistaken signs for Highway 101 for the speed limit.
1943
Feb. 2: Jane Russell, the “pin-up girl” of America, arrived here yesterday. She’s the mystery star of Hollywood, the Cinderella girl, and the first since Jean Harlow to leap from obscurity to top billing in a million-dollar production. Tomorrow she’ll make her first appearance before the world in the premiere of Howard Hughes’ “The Outlaw” at the Geary Theater. Yesterday she was presented for the first time to the press to enable reporters to get acclimated slowly. She instantly became the chief bulwark to the city’s wartime morale. She is completely unbelievable. Cold, calmly, scientifically, there is no explanation for her. You can consider Miss Russell from any viewpoint — and many viewpoints are desirable — and it is still impossible. Yet there she is.
She is exactly like her photographs which are pinned on walls of college dormitories and military barracks from Peoria to Guadalcanal — only more so. When they designed her, they weren’t rationing anything. Fifteen minutes after you meet her, you’re ready to lay your last gasoline ration coupon at her feet. After four hours of looking at her, talking to her about Hollywood (and looking at her), asking questions (and looking at her) suddenly discovering she’s a real girl, nervous at the thought of the premiere (and looking at her) you go quite decently insane. You keep telling yourself to cling to the scientific spirit. It’s nothing but anatomy, physiology, estradiol and similar sex hormones. You keep telling yourself. But you don’t listen. “I’m not very good in a kitchen,” she said. “In fact, I’m a terrible cook.”
So what.
— Milton Silverman Feb. 8: Well, if Herb Caen studies his Army chores as knowingly as he studied San Francisco, his column, which appears in the Chronicle too infrequently these war days, will carry the byline: “By Lieutenant Herb Caen,” instead of “By Private Herb Caen.” According to advices last night from the Army Air Forces Technical Training Command in Chicago, Caen “will leave shortly for an aviation cadet training center for studies which lead to a commission as a Second Lieutenant.”
1918
Feb. 9: The management of the Jewel Theater promises the most unusual event of recent theatrical circles tomorrow when, before an audience of women only, the recently completed picture-production called “Birth” will be offered. This picture was taken in one of the largest maternity hospitals in the United States and is designed to reveal those facts, which, it is claimed, are of the utmost importance to the welfare of the human race. That there be no embarrassment to the womanhood of this city, the management of the theater has provided an orchestra of young women and the ushers will also be women dressed as nurses. It is claimed this will be the first time in the history of theatrical affairs in San Francisco when men will be excluded from the playhouse. “Birth” is an educational and sociological film. Continuous presentations of the picture will be offered for a week beginning tomorrow at 1.