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150 Permanent Address—Beverly Hills Our family was reunited at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. Charlie Skouras seemed very happy to see me, and I was a sucker for Charlie. He convinced me that the telegram that upset me was bungled by someone in the office and for me to forget all about Loew’s State Theatre. He helped us rent a house in Beverly Hills, which we bought a month later. We were entertained royally and did some royal entertaining in our new home. Everything was just ducky, and in much less time than a PFC could become a corporal, my name was on the marquee of Loew’s State Theatre. By a curious coincidence of superior salesmanship, the terms of the agreement were just as quoted in the wire to Kansas City. Skouras always got his man. I was receiving half my regular salary, with a verbal understanding that I would get a fifty-fifty split with the management when, and if, the gross business reached a stipulated figure. On the basis of the prevailing business at the time, I soon learned we were reaching for the moon. Our organization was tops for making this stage-band policy click, but in the vicinity of Hollywood, where the desire to display genius is epidemic, anything could happen. A plan had been decided upon that completely reversed our former methods. “Don’t try to sell Lowry, and the stage show is too big in Hollywood,” they decided. “Let him sneak in. Let Hollywood think they discovered him, and we’ll build this up as solidly as we did in St. Louis.” The first thing I learned was that downtown Los Angeles was not Hollywood . People who lived on the west side of town seldom went east of Vine Street. To the movie colony, downtown Lost Angeles was Keokuk, Iowa. Though far from being an experienced audience, the downtowners were appreciative. Judging by their responsive enthusiasm, I am sure that the proper selling of the show would have made Loew’s State into a bonanza. 151 Pe r m A n e n T Addr e s s —Be v e r ly hi l l s But who can argue with genius? So we were going to make it the hard way, even if I had to wither while waiting. During my opening week, Variety said, “Lowry, based on his successful debut, ought to go a long way in these parts. Here is a unique type of stage M.C. possessing personality, a breezy style, an infectious smile, loads of showmanship and ability. Lowry’s opening day can be rung up as a solid click. There’s plenty enough diversity of fare to make it something worthwhile at the wicket.” There were many newspaper raves, but maybe Angelinos don’t read; anyway, these write-ups didn’t spell immediate box office. Our budget was small for the stage show, and our motion pictures were mostly run of the mill. Nevertheless, without the aid of any big-name attractions, we cooked up some palatable entertainments. My files were bursting with ideas and routines, and we booked in most of the medium-priced entertainers who had clicked solidly in the east. Opening week, for example, we booked my favorite troupe of Arabs. They were wild, and I used to take quite a beating participating in their furious tumbling. Audiences laughed when suddenly I was swept off my feet and whisked to the top of the shoulders of a bony-kneed Arab who was already standing on three other men. The BeeHee and Rubyatte tumblers were the fastest things I’ve ever seen on legs. After several weeks, there were indications that we were clicking, because I could now get a table at the Brown Derby without a reservation. This was a barometer in Hollywood, where the tourists were roped off like cattle. At the Cocoanut Grove, there was a special night in my honor, topped by Governor Frank Merriam awarding me a gold medal for special service to the community. My big beef during this interlude was that I missed the supervision of Charlie Skouras. He was too busy running Fox West Coast Theatres, a huge organization. There was no time for the personal touches anymore. I was learning about the law of diminishing returns in my first baptism of chain operations. In the past, we used to argue things out during meetings, and many ideas developed in the hot fire of give...

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