Jeanne Crain - Personal Life

Personal Life

At the top of her stardom, in the late 1940s and early 1950s, Crain was nicknamed 'Hollywood's Number One party girl', and she was quoted saying that she was invited to at least 200 parties a year.

Against her mother's wishes, on December 31, 1946, Crain married Paul Brinkman, a former RKO Pictures contract player credited as Paul Brooks. The first of their seven children was born the following April.

During the early 1950s, Crain was earning approximately $3,500 per week. Crain and her husband bought a large home for their growing family on Roxbury Drive in Beverly Hills, California. The home can be seen and is described by Bette Davis in candid footage of a driving sequence in the film The Star (1952).

The marriage was rocky for some years. In the mid-1950s, Crain obtained an interlocutory divorce decree, each spouse claiming the other had been unfaithful (she also claimed Brinkman had been abusive), but the couple reconciled on the eve of their 11th wedding anniversary.

In the early 1960s she was one of many conservative actors who spent their time fervently fighting for the Republican cause. Others included James Stewart, Walter Pidgeon, Jerry Lewis, Wendell Corey, and Troy Donahue.

Crain and her husband remained married, although they lived separately in Santa Barbara, California, until Brinkman's death in October 2003.

Crain died a few months later and it was later confirmed that the cause was a heart attack. Crain's funeral Mass was held at the Old Santa Barbara Mission. Crain is buried in the Brinkman family plot at Santa Barbara Cemetery. The Brinkmans were survived by five adult children, including Paul Brinkman Jr., a television executive, most known for his work on the television series JAG.

Read more about this topic:  Jeanne Crain

Famous quotes containing the words personal and/or life:

    In the twentieth century one of the most personal relationships to have developed is that of the person and the state.... It’s become a fact of life that governments have become very intimate with people, most always to their detriment.
    —E.L. (Edgar Lawrence)

    Throughout the history of commercial life nobody has ever quite liked the commission man. His function is too vague, his presence always seems one too many, his profit looks too easy, and even when you admit that he has a necessary function, you feel that this function is, as it were, a personification of something that in an ethical society would not need to exist. If people could deal with one another honestly, they would not need agents.
    Raymond Chandler (1888–1959)