Men are wonderful. I adore them. They always give you the benefit of the doubt.
When I met Jack Kennedy, he was a serious young man with a dream. He was not a womanizer, not as I understood the term.
I ask myself: Would I have been any worse off if I had stayed home or lived on a farm instead of shock treatments and medication?
I dated dozens of young men, had fun with all, made commitments to none.
I was fortunate enough to work under directors who were, most of them, brilliant, emotional men.
I had no romantic interest in Gable. I considered him an older man.
For years it never occurred to me to question the judgment of those in charge at the studio.