And the Rest Is History (23 page)

The apogee of Kelly's career occurred when she won an Academy Award for
The Country Girl
; at the Oscar ceremony she wore an aquamarine gown that showcased her willowy figure and the color of her eyes. Bob Hope as emcee declared, “I just wanna say, they should give a special award for bravery to the producer who produced a movie
without
Grace Kelly.”

After the Oscars,
Life
magazine decided to put her on its next cover. The public Grace was glowing; the private one less so. She recounted that in her suite in the Bel Air Hotel, it was “just the two of us, Oscar and I. It was the loneliest moment of my life.” However, she wouldn't be lonely for long.

Grace's destiny, Rainier Louis Henri Maxence Bertrand Grimaldi, was the descendant of Europe's longest-ruling family, the Grimaldis. His home was a two-hundred-room pink palace situated on a bluff overlooking the sea. When he was six, his parents divorced, and he was packed off to school in England, where he was called “Fat Little Monaco.” In 1949, at age twenty-six, he found his life's vocation: as the ruling prince of his beloved country.

It was partly in deference to his principality that he was desperately seeking a wife; under the terms of a 1918 treaty, Monaco would revert to France if Rainier died without an heir. If that contingency were to take place, the prince's people, who were exempt from taxes and military conscription, would no longer enjoy these benefits. Not surprisingly, his twenty thousand subjects doubled as desperate matchmakers. Although he was Europe's most eligible bachelor, it was difficult to find a princess; she had to be Roman Catholic, able to procreate, wealthy (there was a requisite dowry of $2 million), and able to touch the prince's isolated heart. Of his situation he stated, “I told my people that I was keenly sensitive to the political implications of my bachelorhood—but I told them not to overlook the human factor, the duty of a man to fulfill himself as a human being by taking a wife he loves. I will not marry except for love. I will not agree to a loveless marriage of convenience.” Rainier was to meet his vision in the flesh, through, appropriately, a magazine named
Match
.

The Cannes Film Festival had invited Grace to come to France; she acquiesced only when she renewed her affair with French actor Jean-Pierre Aumont, who asked her to rendezvous there. When she agreed, the editors of
Paris Match
decided to set up a meeting for a cover story that would launch an avalanche of sales: “Hollywood Movie Queen Meets Real-Life Prince.”

The first time Grace met Rainier was on April 6 in his storybook palace. They strolled in his magnificent gardens and visited his private zoo; one of his animals was a baby Asian tiger, a gift from Emperor Bao Dai of Vietnam. When Grace went to take her farewell, the prince kissed her hand. On the way back to Cannes, Grace remarked to Jean-Pierre that the prince was “Charming. Very charming.”

When Grace returned home, she and Rainier began an epistolary courtship; in December the prince went to the States for a second meeting and had Christmas dinner with the Kellys in their Philadelphia home. At Cartier in New York, Rainier purchased a 10.47-karat diamond engagement ring, and on December 27 Grace accepted his proposal. The woman who had been searching for a prince of a man had fallen for a man who was a prince.

The press was ecstatic with the news of the wedding of the century, and so was Grace's father, Jack Kelly, who could finally lord it over Philadelphia's WASP upper crust. Alfred Hitchcock was not pleased with losing his star and termed her “
dis
-Grace” for trading her talent for a tiara. However, he later softened: “I am glad Grace has found the best role of her life.” Bing Crosby almost blew the nuptials when the prince asked who had been the greatest star he had ever bedded. Bing replied, “That's easy, Grace, er, Gracie Fields.” Rainier had assumed that Grace was as chaste as her appearance led one to believe.

Another person who had misgivings over the wedding of the century was the bride, who called her nuptials the carnival of the century. On board the SS
Constitution
en route to Monaco, she recalled, “When I left New York our ship was surrounded in fog. What sort of world was awaiting me on the other side of that fog?” Grace was leaving her family, friends, and career for a world where she did not speak the language, protocol ruled, and the only person she knew was a man she had met less than a year before. In addition, the marriage clause stated that in the contingency of divorce, custody of any children would be granted to the father. Whatever scenario was to follow, Grace would do what she had always done: play her part to perfection.

The church ceremony was conducted on April 19, 1956, at Saint Nicholas Cathedral; the bride wore an $8,000 wedding dress, designed by MGM. The six hundred guests included European blue bloods, the international jet set, and American movie stars. The die was cast when the couple stated,
“Oui, je veux.”
The service was viewed by an estimated 30 million television viewers. The prince and princess honeymooned on Rainier's yacht,
Deo Juvante II
. Before boarding, the bride told her groom, “Thank you, darling, for such a sweet, intimate wedding.”

As events unfolded, Princess Grace remarked, “The idea of my life as a fairy tale is itself a fairy tale.” One of the things that caused her pain was abandoning the profession she loved. For comfort she would repeat to herself a quotation from her favorite poet, Kahlil Gibran: “When love beckons to you follow him ... though his voice may shatter your dreams.” The energy she had once given to her career was soon channeled into the royal offspring. Nine months and four days after their wedding, their first child, Princess Caroline, was born. Monaco, ecstatic that its municipality was now secure from French rule, rejoiced. Twenty-one guns heralded the event, a national holiday was declared, gambling ceased, and champagne flowed. A year later, 101 guns saluted the arrival of the male heir, Prince Albert. Their last born was Princess Stephanie.

The family lived together for a quarter of a century in storybook splendor. But in September 1982, Grace and her seventeen-year-old daughter Stephanie were returning home from Roc Angel, their French estate. Grace had refused the services of her chauffeur; while driving, she suffered a minor stroke, which caused her car to crash down the mountainside. Stephanie survived; Grace never regained consciousness.

Rainier went into the hospital room to bid his wife a final farewell; when he departed he walked slowly down the corridor, supported on one side by his son, Prince Albert, and on the other by his daughter, Princess Caroline. He kept repeating, “This can't be true. Please, dear God. This can't be true.”

A few years after the tragic accident, biographer Jeffrey Robinson asked Rainier, once more Europe's reigning bachelor, about remarrying. The response? “How could I? Everywhere I go, I see Grace.” With the passing of the princess, the fairy tale had lost its enchantment.

27

1956

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

F
ire is a two-edged sword; it can both burn and warm. In the case of a man with a preference for black and a woman with a preference for blue, it brought first damnation and then, through the force of love, redemption.

Valerie June Carter was born in Virginia into a dynasty of music royalty. Her family became the first vocal group to become country stars, and their repertoire became Nashville's bedrock with classics such as “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” A natural beauty who possessed a razor-sharp wit, she achieved popularity by spicing up live performances with comedy routines and monologues.

Life on the road for a teenage girl in a group was difficult. “The old circuits sometimes called for five shows a day. While everyone else was dating, I was busy riding everywhere in our old Cadillac, setting up the PA system, and taking money at the door. My body ached. Then I stopped a show with a routine, and I was hooked. There would be no turning back now. I would not go to college, would not marry Freddie Fugate back home and raise children, cook three meals a day and be an average American housewife.”

At age twenty-three she married her first husband, honky-tonk singer Carl Smith, and had a daughter, Rebecca, before separating later in the decade. In 1961 the Carters were invited to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, where June would meet her man in black.

June's destiny, J. R. Cash (he was so christened because his parents could not agree on a name), was born in Arkansas, one of seven children of Southern Baptist sharecroppers. By age five he toiled in the cotton fields, where his mother led the children in singing gospel songs to lighten their Depression-era existence. Music also helped him survive the tragic death of his brother in an accident with a power saw as well as an acrimonious relationship with his father. To chase away the blues he listened to his uncle's radio, especially the recordings of the Carter family. On a class trip to the Grand Ole Opry, he saw his idols in person and determined that one day he would obtain June's autograph.

After high school he enlisted and in Germany bought his first guitar, on which he composed “Folsom Prison Blues.” When he returned he married Vivian Liberto and held a number of dead-end jobs to support his growing family. His segue to fame began when he obtained a recording contract with Sam Phillips's Sun label, which had clients Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and Elvis Presley. His first hit was “Cry, Cry, Cry.” His signature color led to his nickname, “the Man in Black,” which was in contrast to the rhinestones sported by other country stars, and he began each of his concerts with, “Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.” When “I Walk the Line” began storming up the charts, the Man in Black decided it was time to knock on the door of the mecca of country music.

June was performing as an opening act for Presley when she saw Elvis on his knee, grasping his guitar and strumming the words, “Everyone knows where you go when the sun goes down. Ah-ummm.” When she asked him what was going on, he replied he was trying to tune his “blame guitar” and attempting to sing like Johnny Cash. When she said she didn't know Cash, Elvis replied that she would, that the whole world would. Later, on tour throughout the South, while June tried to protect Elvis from women, Presley would endlessly play Cash songs on all the jukeboxes. She recalled hearing the mournful words “You're gonna cry, cry, cry and you'll cry alone,” and that Cash's mournful voice penetrated her heart and spoke to her own loneliness.

The first time June met Johnny was backstage at the Grand Ole Opry in 1956. She was tuning her guitar and humming “Ahumm,” when she heard the same voice that had emanated from the jukeboxes; however, this time it said, “Hello. My name is Johnny Cash. I've always wanted to meet you.” She was able to compose herself and replied, “I feel like I know you already. Elvis plays you on the jukebox all the time and he can't tune his guitar without humming ‘Cry, Cry, Cry.' Now he's got me doing it.” Before they separated he told her, “I'm going to marry you someday.” She laughed and said, “Well, good. I can't wait.” Her answer was flippant because at the time, he was a married man with four daughters. June said that his eyes looked like black agates and that she was afraid to do more than glance at him for fear that she would be drawn into his soul, unable to walk away. Before they parted, she requested some of his records, which he gave her the next Saturday night; in return she gave him her picture, with its long-awaited autograph.