Only one word adequately describes this beauty, and that word would be diva with a capital ‘D’. This particular beauty was Julanne Johnston born 1900 in Indianapolis, Indiana and died 1988 in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. She was either interred in her husband’s family plot at Woodlawn Cemetery in Detroit, or cremated and scattered in the rose garden of Chapel of the Pines, Los Angeles, California. As she is listed in both places, it must be reader discretion to decide which is accurate.
Julanne was an American silent film actress whose most notable role was starring opposite Douglas Fairbanks in ‘Thief of Baghdad’; however, she is best remembered for being on William Randolph Hearst’s yacht during a fated outing in November 1924 when the film director and producer Thomas Ince died of heart failure.
The other thing Julanne is remembered for is that during the zenith of her career, she stepped from a train in Grosse Point, Michigan to meet some friends on her way to New York City, but met the love of her life while there, David W Rust (1899 – 1962), and never left. They had one son, and father and son are definitely interred at Woodlawn Cemetery, Detroit. She took her lovely self to the Detroit Institute of Arts, and did volunteer work.
Why should anyone remember this diva or any other star of the silent screen? Aside from being the vixens they were, these women were trailblazers. In a time before women could vote, they walked away from family farms and cities to make their way to Hollywood in search of stardom. Every now and then, as in this case, they found it.
‘The Thief of Baghdad’ is still available at Amazon.com, and makes for good viewing.
There was a time women wore hoop skirts, were considered so delicate they had to be routinely revived with smelling salts when their corsets ceased breathing activity, and were believed to be too hysterical to vote. Off they were sent to the parlor to discuss ‘lady things’ while the big boys remained at the dining room table with whiskey and cigars to rationally discuss the political landscape.
Poor dainty little creatures, and weren’t those just the days? Thank you, God, those days are gone. The spineless things tore those hoops from their skirts and used them for hula hoops, tied the corsets around their husband’s heads, kicked the smelling salts to the curb, and ran into the streets. Having sprung themselves from the parlor, they begin to walk alone and talk out loud, manage careers and homes, and vote. Actually, they did everything the big boys did, sometimes better, and they begin to speak for themselves, if anyone was listening or not.
Wouldn’t you just know it? History is trying to repeat itself. Trapped behind the 2016 Presidential Campaign, women are once again being delegated to the backroom while the politicians, all of them, discuss women’s reproductive organs, birth control, abortion, women’s health care options, and all things female as if they were talking about someone from another planet.
Guess what guys?? We are standing right here, and you need only ask if you want to know what we want. Don’t look in the backroom for us because we’re not there, and please cease and desist using our fallopian tubes for a Presidential platform. We can speak for ourselves, and can manage our own birth control issues and choices.