Sybil Bruncheon's Strange Tales for St. Patrick's Day...

Fitzherbert O'Dunnoch the Duke of Sutcliffe-Welles and his wife Countess Cornelia had a terrible secret, kept through most of the 17th and 18th centuries... and only hinted at in the beginning of the 20th.. but by 1914 they were finally forced to emigrate from their native and much belovéd Ireland...

They were, in fact... Leprechauns!... tall, yes... but genetically Leprechauns, of very old, and respected lineage. Indeed, there was some evidence that they both, through very different bloodlines, were related to the very earliest Leprechaun royalty; perhaps even King Sheamus I... and Queen Fionulla the Fair. O'Dunnoch and his wife escaped persecution on the R.M.S. Queen of Ireland... Sadly, they perished along with 1,010 other passengers on May 29, 1914 when the ship collided with the Norwegian cargo ship, the Storstad near the mouth of the St. Lawrence River in Canada. With their deaths, no other evidence has been presented that Leprechauns still exist, although many people still suspect they are about, especially among show-business persons... and royalty of smallish nations. (postscript: O'Dunnuch and Cornelia died childless... or so we have been told...)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Holiday Recipes... St. Patrick's Day!"...

For those of you who hate corned beef and cabbage but don't mind the gas and bad smells, we offer this alternative! Breaking News from the CNN news desk: The RNC has revealed that, in celebration of the president's soon-to-be return to the White House, they have invented an official recipe for the upcoming victory parties on election night! Their... um, "recommendation" is that all loyal Americans prepare, serve, and finish this delightful creation; a melding of recipes from the Sears Catalog Cook Book of 1946 (the president's birth year) and some hand-me-down recipes from Slovenia, the first lady's birthplace, (although there are rumors that she is from Uranus.) The RNC has suggested that the dish should be served with little toothpicks, paper umbrellas, and frankfurters... but NOT the mini ones!!... y'understand? NOT THE MINIS!!! Details at 6. The Heimlich maneuver at 11.

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Sybil Bruncheon's "St. Patty's Cinema"...

"When I tell you to ditch the shirt, you hop, ya hear me, my wild Irish Rose?... and ya better NOT be a leprechaun where it counts!"...

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SYBIL'S STORY BOOK CORNER: An Irish Tradition...

Oh, Children!!...so many of you have said, "Please Mummie! Don't stop telling us stories of your Christmases from around the world!".... and I have said, "OKAY!".... Here's a charming tradition from Ireland where some of Mummie's funny relatives come from. On Christmas Eve at about 2 in the morning, children wait up to hear the sound of jingling bells and a knock on the door. Sometimes, it's a very loud knock, even pounding...and then some mumbling, or yelling...or yelling and singing. Or someone jingling bells... or keys, and yelling a song in a very grumpy voice. And maybe breaking things out on the front porch! When it finally stops, children peek out the window to see St. Nicholas, often accompanied by his friend Old Sooty McAshburn sleeping!! ... or at least lying quietly face down!! They've brought toys and sometimes candies or even funny drinks for all the good children to have. And when the children are sure that St. Nick and Sooty won't wake up, they tip toe carefully outside and quietly get the treats and dash quickly back inside and bolt the door. Of course, many older children don't believe in St. Nick or Sooty. They claim that it's just Daddy and a nice neighbor man dressed up having fun... and that when they fall down they have to "sleep off" their fun. What do YOU think, Children??

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A New Sybil's "WHO'Z DAT?"... FRANK McHUGH (May 23, 1898 - September 11, 1981)

Darlings! Mummy has made a decision! After reading dozens of posts and having hundreds of conversations with well-meaning folks who just don't know about the great CHARACTER actors who gave films the depth and genius that surrounded and supported the so-called "stars", I am going to post a weekly, special entry called SYBIL'S "WHO'Z DAT??"....there'll be photos and a mini-bio, and the next time you see one of those familiar, fabulous faces that you just "can't quite place".......well, maybe these posts will help. Some of these actors worked more, had longer and broader careers, and ended up happier, more loved, and even wealthier than the "stars" that the public "worships"......I think there may be a metaphor in that! What do you think???.... well, while you’re reflecting on it, here’s a Dairlin’ man, as the Irish say… and wouldn’t you know him by his charmin’ laughter in every role he ever played, God bless’m. He’s Frank McHugh (May 23rd 1898 – September 11, 1981).

Born Francis Curray McHugh in Homestead, Pennsylvania of Irish descent, McHugh came from a theatrical family. McHugh made his debut in blackface at the age of 6 in FOR HER CHILDREN'S SAKE as a member of the McHugh Stock Company in Braddock, Pa., founded by his parents, Edward A. and Catherine McHugh. Performing onstage in Vaudeville with his older brother Matt and sister Kitty, he was a local star at ten years of age. Another brother, Ed, went on to become a stage manager and agent in New York. McHugh went to school in Pittsburgh and at the age of 17 left the family troupe and joined the Marguerite Bryant Players, of which Guy Kibbee was also a member, and became juvenile lead and stage manager at the Empire Theater in Pittsburgh. He graduated and went barnstorming through the Middle West and New England and playing on the Keith and Orpheum circuits. McHugh made his Broadway debut in THE FALL GUY, written by George Abbott and James Gleason in 1925 and featuring Ernest Truex. The following year he went to London with James Gleason and Robert Armstrong to appear in the prize-fight comedy IS ZAT SO? In 1928 he married Dorothy Spencer, an actress, and returned to Broadway in FOG, which was soon followed by his first real Broadway success as a reformed pickpocket in TENTH AVENUE. The following year he appeared in EXCESS BAGGAGE, which he considered his ''best New York role.'', (but it was his last Broadway appearance until 1963 when he appeared as Senex, the henpecked husband in A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM.)

When his family quit the stage in 1930, First National Pictures hired him as a contract player. But very soon after, he was picked up by Warner Brothers where he performed in over 150 pictures. Even in horror films, he could be counted on for his signature smart-alecky, wise guy, Brooklynese humor as in THE MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933) costarring fellow smart-aleck Glenda Farrell, Lionel Atwill and Fay Wray. Though McHugh got a few star parts, more often he supported stars James Cagney and Pat O’Brien. He was immensely popular with his fellow actors. Irish-Americans McHugh, Cagney, O’Brien and Spencer Tracy were close friends and the core members of a group known as, “The Irish Mafia,” known for its drinking and carousing prowess which also included Allen Jenkins, Ralph Bellamy, Lynne Overman, and Frank Morgan.  Over the course of his extraordinary career he quickly became one of Warner Brothers’ most reliable supporting players. His diminutive stature, sunny face, comic timing, appealing manner, and signature “Hah, Hah, Hah” sing-song laugh made him a beloved character actor, very popular in his day. McHugh’s films include THE FRONT PAGE (1931), GOLD DIGGERS OF 1935 (1935), A MIDSUMMER’S NIGHT DREAM (1935), FOUR DAUGHTERS (1938), THE ROARING TWENTIES (1939), GOING MY WAY (1944), MIGHTY JOE YOUNG (1949), and THE LAST HURRAH (1958). He had the distinction of being cast repeatedly in Oscar nominated and winning films.

Although McHugh played everything from lead actor to sidekick, he was most often remembered for providing comedy relief. He worked with almost every major star at Warner Brothers, was a close life-long friend of James Cagney, and appeared in more Cagney movies than any other actor, notably in eleven films between 1932 and 1953 including crime dramas and even musicals. Their friendship lasted until McHugh's death. Like many of his fellow stars, he was a keen supporter in the 1940s of the war effort. In 1942, just a few months after Pearl Harbor, McHugh was a core member of the Hollywood Victory Caravan. At the request of the War Activities Committee, a crew of 21 stars traveled across the US by train, performing in several cities over the course of three weeks to raise money for the Army and Navy Relief Fund. The dazzling line-up of stars, headed by Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Cary Grant featured the talents of some of Hollywood’s biggest names. McHugh and his Irish Mafia pals James Cagney and Pat O’Brien were on board, along with Charles Boyer, Claudette Colbert, Joan Blondell, Joan Bennett, Merle Oberon, Rise Stevens, Eleanor Powell, Laurel and Hardy, Bert Lahr, Charlotte Greenwood, Olivia de Havilland, Desi Arnaz, and Groucho Marx. The show they performed was a musical revue, put together by Mark Sandrich (a director known for the Astaire/Rogers musicals) and Alfred Newman (20th Century Fox’s house musical director and composer) with contributions from several top screen and songwriters.

Everywhere the Caravan went, it was greeted by cheering crowds, and its stop in Washington D.C. included a trip to the White House, where the stars were greeted and thanked by first lady Eleanor Roosevelt. After the tour, photographer Gene Lester compiled a booklet of 30 photographs from the tour for the participants. McHugh’s copy is archived in the New York Public Library’s Hollywood collection. This amazing resource is a mix of posed publicity shots and candids of the stars hanging out backstage, at meals or on the train. Many of the stars including McHugh recalled the Hollywood Victory Caravan as one of the most incredible, memorable, and rewarding experiences of their lives. After the tour ended, McHugh’s dedication to helping the war effort was not over. He went back out on tour again in England in August and September of 1942, appearing in the American Variety Show with Al Jolson, Patricia Morrison, Allen Jenkins, and again with Merle Oberon.

Two years later, McHugh came back to Europe with his own show. He designed and starred in “McHugh’s Revue” which toured France, Holland, Belgium and Germany in November and December of 1944. The show was actually in Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge. This USO show featured McHugh, four beautiful girls (actresses Mary Brian, June Clyde, Charlotte Greer and Nina Nova) and a piano-player (Eddie Eisman), touring the front line, meeting, and entertaining the troops. The McHugh Papers include many accounts of the tour. 

Here is McHugh’s own account of traveling to Europe in the company of servicemen:"Getting acquainted with my companions was something that I looked forward to with great apprehension. They were all so many years my junior that I suddenly felt very old and very far away from them. But I was mistaken — I have never met a bunch of young fellows that were so good humored, agreeable and easy to get along with. I’ll always remember them and wonder what their individual careers were in the army.”

The November 4, 1944 editions of the Special Service Publication, Trans Quips, described meeting up with McHugh for an interview:

“I found him and June Clyde talking to a bunch of G.I.s, looking at the pictures of their girls, cracking jokes and signing autographs. He talked to the men about their hometowns, and Frank really knows the hometown of almost everybody on board… He did shows in all the big towns and cities in the States.” 

Frank McHugh’s career and war effort activities were preserved in his personal papers including a trove of interesting letters, photographs, and publicity materials on all the USO tours he participated in during World War II. They are currently held in the Billy Rose Theatre Division of the New York Public Library.

In 1944, he was memorably cast as Father Timothy O'Dowd in the Bing Crosby film, GOING MY WAY. which won several Oscars including Best Film and Best Actor for Crosby. (Interestingly, McHugh later played William Jennings Depew in the 1962 episode "Keep an Eye on Santa Claus" in the ABC television series, GOING MY WAY starring Gene Kelly, and loosely based on the earlier film.) The remainder of the 1940s were a good time for his film career, but like a lot of Hollywood actors in the 50’s when film roles started getting scarce Frank moved to radio and television. From 1954 to 1956, Frank appeared in the radio serial “Hotel for Pets” where he played a former mail carrier who ran an animal shelter. The series was sponsored by Puss ‘n Boots cat food. He made sporadic appearances in various television cameos through the 1950s.

From 1964-65, he played Willie Walters, a live-in handyman in the 27-episode ABC sitcom The Bing Crosby Show, which reunited him once again onscreen with Bing Crosby. The show also co-starred Beverly Garland. McHugh's last feature film role was as a comical "sea captain" in the 1967 Elvis Presley caper film EASY COME, EASY GO. He returned to Broadway again in 1967 to star in a revival of  FINIAN'S RAINBOW by the New York City Light Opera Company.

McHugh's last television appearance was as handyman Charlie Wingate in "The Fix-It Man", an episode of CBS’ LANCER western series, which starred Andrew Duggan. He finally retired from show business in 1969. McHugh died at his home in Greenwich, Connecticut on September 11, 1981 at the age of 83. He was survived by his wife Dorothy Spencer, three children, and two grandchildren. His brother Matt McHugh and sister Kitty McHugh whom he had first appeared with in Vaudeville were also actors in many films. Summing up his style and appeal, McHugh once said, “I never act in the movies. All I ever do in a picture is to be myself and let the cameras grind on.'' 

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “Strange Tales of Strange Places: Bellegrave Castle”…

Bellegrave Castle in the remote part of the forest had been a strange and, for most people, a forbidding place, full of rumors of old misfortunes and even violence. Oddly, the people who had fallen victim to its mysteries were loners, rarely related to any family members or wide circles of friends who would follow up on disappearances…. or foul play…almost as if the castle actually knew who to pick and choose for its murderous mischiefs. 

Imagine! A place that actually was capable of conscious thought…and willful malevolence. Skeptics who stumbled on tales of the place would apply their 20th century sensibilities and learning and deny that anything like that could happen, in the “real world”. Of course, there have been other tales of places infected with a methodical evil. But perhaps nothing quite like this. 

You see, the castle had been built by reputedly loving and much loved people; a royal family known for wisdom, justice, and generous displays to their subjects and vassals. The lords of Bellegrave also had been the extremely lucky residents of peaceful times, free of the constant wars and conspiracies that plagued the centuries in which they lived and the neighboring countries that seethed and burned so nearby.

The great good fortune that shone on this beautiful place seemed indeed heaven-sent, and the sobriquets of “The Good”, “The Fair”, ‘The Kind Hearted”, and “The Blessed” often were added to the rulers’ names as they were crowned and followed one by one in direct succession, father to son, and even to daughter, in the case of Princesses who also could ascend the throne with no complications of the restrictive male primogeniture where only sons could rule. Each generation was blessed with happy, healthy children, again unlike the other royal houses of Europe where infant mortality and the demise of dynasties could result in secret crimes concealed behind palace walls, or civil wars played out in open countrysides. 

So how, how after the centuries of royalty and chivalry flowed by, and the modern age of reason and modernism had dawned did Bellegrave Castle lose its lustre? Its radiance? …and its sanity? As royal titles faded, duchies and principalities merged, and families gave up putting Roman numerals behind their noble names… Bellegrave Castle drifted from a golden haze into a grey and forlorn miasma… sad at first, and then slowly rotting from somewhere inside… inside its walls, and its soul…

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “THE WEES AND THEIR IRISH WAYS”.....

        Ah, me Dairlins, did I ever tell ye the time I was visitin’ me loovly ancestors in dear old Ireland, when I was bewitched, BEWITCHED I tell ye, by a band of the Wee-Peeple and their mischiefs??... well, one misty morn, I was out for a stroll and some quiet time by myself. I was whistlin’ a tune and feelin pensive-like about the beautiful landscape and the quiet surroundins, when suddenly, out pops a little fellow dressed all in green (what else!?). His duds were all mixed patterns and prints with stripes butted up against polka-dots, chevrons, curly-cues, paisleys, checks, harlequinades, skeetlebarts, floopsie-loos and embellished with sequins, rhinestones, ric-rac, and all manner of gew-gaws, pasties, ribbons, ruffles, frills, and sillies.

         I knew instantly by his ridiculous togs that not only was he a Leprechaun, but quite possibly a "Mary-Maker" as well.... (you know, the kind of Leprechaun who lures young lads away on drunken weekends and likes to re-do a woman's home or hair when she's fast asleep, sometimes in a very naughty way!!). Though he was only 20 polpits high or so, he gave a sweepin bow, flourishin his befeathered cap and introducin himself as "Breehan O'Really", a respectable enough name for so cheeky a fellow, but I checked my purse and pockets immediately out of habit, for I have met his like many o'time oer the years in all sorts of disreputable places like Bingo halls and emergency rooms in Doll Hospitals. Mr. O'Really wished me “a gracious goo'day” and asked me where I was bein off to, and I dished him some blarney about lookin for a cappuccino and croissant in the vicinity which brought him (and me!) to loud laughter and shared winks! ....and then, after a slight and pregnant pause, Breehan drew my attention to the huge tunnel that was right beside me, but that I hadn't noticed before!

        How had that suddenly come into view? Even in reverie, or recoverin from a “tipsy”, I'm an observant soul, and I couldn't imagine how I had missed that great a vision so near to my path??? Little Breehan's eyes shone brightly as he beckoned me close...much more brightly than your usual Wee-lette, and as he spoke, those deep green eyes shone bigger, and brighter....with a bit o’ menace in them, if truth be told. I bent low to see into them more clearly, and to show wee Breehan that I wasn’t a-feared of him, though he had a tad o’ the Devil himself in those twinklers! He asked me if I liked wearing pretties, “bein a loovly lass myself”. Well I gave him my best askance and told him to “go on!”, but I was glad for the compliment (for a lady of any age likes to be told and not have to pay for it at a local pub or in an alleyway). And then, right there, I heard them! Breehan’s fellow-magicals, singin their plaintive tune, their sweet harmonies a-driftin out o’ the tunnel’s great mouth. I could na see ‘em, but their angels’ voices rose and rose more and more as if they were gettin close to comin into view! And angels’ voices they had too! For never have ye heard a sound so close to dyin and wakin in the clouds with St. Peter’s hand on yer heart welcoming ye home! I confess, I was lured by their sweet song, almost a prayer-like, and then, as if through a mist, the first of ‘em began to come out into the grey morning light. In procession, but not formal, just amblin along, smiling at me with their faces open and friendly, and one of ‘em was holdin a huge cushion in his outstretched hands. It was beautiful, dark green velvet with trims and braids and tassels all on it fit for a king’s coronation, and I wondered if Breehan and his pranksters had stolen it!... and when I saw what was nestled down inside the lushness, I was very sure there had been some thievery… or at least a wee bit o’ finger-friskiness. For there, as delicious as candy, was the most gloriously green arc o’ emeralds ye’ve ever seen, arranged in a tiara-crown.

        Even in the dull grey of the mornin mist, it twinkled and nearly danced on its pilla, the light in it as merry and laughin as that dangerous spark in the eyes o’ the Wees that brought it towards me. Oh yes… for that is how green fire can be, and indeed the color green itself, doncha know? Green is the color of the Lord’s own trees and every leaf upon ‘em in His good world, God bless ye, but it also can be the color o’ Envy and Jealousy… and Coveting… and Money… and green can be the sickly color of somethin’ deadly or dyin and left in a dark place to rot and corrupt. But, oh, how I stared at that beautiful crown and its laughin emeralds, even as I remembered my catechism and all the lessons that nuns and nicer folks had taught me well through love and ruler whacks….

        And then, wee Breehan whispered ever so gently and lovin-like, “Would ye care, dear Lass, to try it on? I daresay it looks just yer size, and the twinklettes match yer eyes so!”… and… well... I knew in my heart ‘o hearts it might be wrong, or at least it might be what Sister Mary Bernice had warned me against at my eighth birthday party when I gave Johnny Brannigan an extra piece of my cake if he’d show me why boys were different than girls… It might be like that. Tryin on that tiara and lookin at Johnny behind the church in all his glory… they might be the same thing. …and I thought of Sister Mary Bernice! But I couldna resist! Neither when I was eight!... nor when I was a grown lady and had seen many glories in the passin years. We’re mortal, aren’t we, made of flesh and bone, and prone to mischiefs, and temptations, and bruises, and beauty. God protect us, Beauty!...maybe the most dangerous injury of all on this fretful journey. And when we are first born and set sail in each our own fragile vessel on the great sea of life, to be buffeted about as whim will have it, how guilty of wrong are we when our crewmen include the Breehan O’Reallys of the world? They stow away in the hold, and jump out at all the wrong times to vex our better natures and set our destinies at odds with what our stars and souls would better like. But there it is!

       ...and so, as the glorious cushion with its fantastic cargo was held before me, and I stared into the invitin eyes of each of the little minions that ringed me, I took a deep and quiet breath. I smiled back, as sweetly and deeply as I ever have, finally settlin on Breehan’s upturned face. I slowly reached out for the tiara with both my tremblin hands, and lifted its surprising weight up… and towards my brow, all feverish now with expectation. I lowered the crown of gold and diamonds and emeralds upon myself, and Yes! It fit perfectly!... I felt it there, substantial and filled with glory, but not encumbering or hurtful. Almost like a loved-one who had come home after a long absence, and was now sittin exactly where he was meant to be. I slowly rose up and stood before the gathered magicals around me, their eyes watchful, waitin… AND I RAN! RAN with my treasure clutched tight to my head so as not to lose it on the rocky path that I tore down like a meteor shootin through the night!... and the last thing I heard as I rounded a stone wall was the yowled rage of the Wees as they realized that sometimes, on rare occasions, the world that holds the teachins of Mary Bernice, and ruler whacks, and croissants and cappuccinos, and Johnny Brannigan, and the likes of a lass like me… That world sometimes gets the better of THEM for a change! And the Wees and the Magicals and the Tricksters have to dance the same jig as the rest of us… in front of the Great Maker.

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