Evening Star Newspaper, March 2, 1930, Page 88

Before ihe second act was over Doris Carson had stopped the show. BY GELBERT SW AN. Sketches by George Clark. (OME call them “Broadway Cinde- reilas” and some call them ‘“‘show stoppers.” A few are certain to appear each season, and the 1930 crop is now ready to step up and take its bow, its rewards, and its moments of fame. Now a Broadway Cinderella, according to the definition of the gay white way, is a youngster who steps suddenly out of nowhere into ine- stant popularity and success. While thousands plug steadily along, seldom passing the great middle-ground, and while others makec a slow, steady way to the top— one or two or three, whose names have never dignified a theater program, come fairly leaping out of a dramatic cast. And—presto! They “stop the show!” Before the final curtain is rung down on a premiere the whole house knows that a young stranger has ‘“stolen the evening.” By morning all Broadway knows it, thanks to critics and columnists. Within a half dozen hours, Holly- wood is on the phone and the “Cinderella” finds contracts blowing in at every open window. Fame and wealth and public adulation are just around the corner if she can but keep her danc- ing slippers on her feet and her mind on her work. ‘The talkies and the radio and the phono- graph record makers; the supper club and the intimate private entertainments of the wealthy social sets—a dozen opportunities for gquick wealth are suddenly offered. Mlm'r, then, the first of the 1930 crop! Heading the list may be found the tom- boyish Ginger Rogers and the lithe, foottapping little Doris Carson. ‘Their stories are echoes of all the other sim- ilar “show stopping” tales of the Main Stem. Ginger, for instance, was a country town girl. Her home was near Independence, Mo. 8She could dance almost as soon as she could stand on her feet, and her parents encouraged her. ‘While she was still a youngster they moved to Fort Worth. She began making appear- ances at the usual local entertainments and concerts. ‘Then came the *“break”—Eddie Foy and his “Little Foys” were coming through on a vaude- One of the “Little Foys” happened 1l known band came out from Chicago for an engagement at this same theater. 'ASH, it may be recalled, was the band maes- E tro who picked up Helen Kane out of just such a group. Helen, who had been one of the Broadway Cinderellas in her own time, had long since made her big hit and was in the “big leagues,” traveling between Broadway and Hollywood. Ash was looking around for a new discovery. And he picked on Ginger. She had a sort of Helen Kaney way of singing a song, but her dancing reminded one of the loose, romping Zelma O'Neal. Now Zelma was a Cinderella telephone operator’s job, something of a re- for Ginger, the at- \ ] :I'H E SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH 2, 1930. N Piano percher Helen Morgan, who won her way to fame through a Canadian beauty contest. How Fame, Like a Fickle Fairy Godmother, Has Dropped Wealth and Contracts Into the Laps of Pretty Miss Nobodies From Nowhere Who Have Stolen Shows Away From the Stars. Broadway didn’t. - One day Guy. Bolton and Burt Kalmer—who were about to become pro- ducers—went “scouting.” They “caught” her act and gave her a chance in a musical comedy, “Top Speed.” Well, Ginger will not have to worry for a In stepped Ginger Rogers . . . to sub- stitute for a sick Foy. \J - Suddenly out. of .the blur of the chorus a might think. It does happen. It happened to Doris Carson, for instance. Doris- comes from a theatrical family. Her father, James Carson, is a character actor of copsiderable standing who encouraged Doris to go on the stage. Doris could tap dance— and how! But she wasn’t burning up the world. When “Show Girl” was being cast, Doris got a chance to play understudy to Ruby Keeler, still another of the Cindarellas in her day. “You just watch Ruby,” advised a friend. “There’s a tap dancer! You'll probably never got a chance to appear, but you'll learn a lot. And it's a good part to study anyway.” Tt looked as though Doris would disappear to that vast understudy limbo. Ruby Keeler become Mrs. Al Jolson. And Ruby Keeler .” Her name was attention she at- Ay~ [ fiayfipre.ppeued,ilwaw o o o @ Nealy doing the *Varsity Drag” .. BROADWAY'’S Newest Cindere llas Collegiate Libby Holman established herself as a leader of the parade in “The Little Show.” her work in the talking films, her following is taking on a national aspect. She is to be heard upon the records and in th® theaters and in the fashionable night resorts. Her work in “Sweet Adeline” has been the occasion for many .a flattering essay. But let’s go back to the beginning—back to the littl> city of Danville, IIl. Helen's father had a farm near town, but he died and left herself and her mother to fight their way out, The mother of this same La Morgan who perches on pianos and once was tried on a prohibition charge was a Sunday school teacher. - ‘They went to Chicago and Helen went to work. She took a job as a ribbon clerk. Helen, it seems, was something quite eye filling even then—and it wasn't long before she was out of the store and doing quite well as a manicure lady. People told her that she could sing well, and so she began to appear in some of the small neighborhood theaters of Chicago. Then came the amusing incident which “changed everything.” A producer, organiz- ing a company for a road tour, hired Helen. The company, sent into Canada, found itself in Montreal just before the Prince of Wales arrived on one of his visits to his Canadian ranch. In preparation for the welcome, an entertain- ment committee had decided to select a group of beautiful girls, and a prize board would open only to Canadian girls, but an astute press agent sent in the picture of Helen Morgan, late scattered far and wide across quick fame brought nmew opportuni went back to Chicago and began night club. Tm«-eumchkapalemnkht a group of newspaper folk, including Amy Leslie, a drama writer for a Chicago newspaper, Miss Leslie decided that Helen had what Broadway needed. She insisted upen Helen leaving at once and provided her with a per- sonal letter to Flo Ziegfeld. But the girl glori- fier didn't get particularly excited. Instead he sent Helen to the iast row of the chorus in “Sally.” He even put her in a road troup. The day was to come when Ziegfeld would dicker with her over a $1,500-a-week salary, When they first met, however, she took $50 & week—and liked it. : (Oeprright, 1930.)