Lane Sisters
The Lane Sisters refers to a group of sisters, three of whom achieved success in the 1920s and 1930s as a singing act, with their popularity onstage leading to a series of successful films. A fourth sister was not successful and left this milieu and a fifth avoided show business altogether. Priscilla Lane enjoyed the most prominent movie career.
| Name | Birthname | Birthdate | Birthplace | Died and Age | Place of Death | Active | Spouses |
| Leota Lane |
Leotabel Mullican |
(1903-10-25)October 25, 1903 | Indianola, Iowa | July 25, 1963(1963-07-25) (aged 59) | Glendale, California | 1931 - 1931 | Mischel D. Picard (m.1928) Edward Joseph Pitts (m.1941) Jerome Day |
| Lola Lane |
Dorothy Mullican |
(1906-05-21)May 21, 1906 | Macy, Indiana | June 22, 1981(1981-06-22) (aged 75) | Santa Barbara, California | 1929–1946 | Henry Clay Dunham (div.) Lew Ayres (1931–1933) Alexander Hall (1934–1936) Roland West (1940–1952) Robert Hanlon (1955–1981) |
| Rosemary Lane |
Rosemary Mullican |
(1913-04-04)April 4, 1913 | Indianola, Iowa | November 25, 1974(1974-11-25) (aged 61) | Los Angeles, California | 1937–1945 | Bud Westmore (1941–1954) |
| Priscilla Lane |
Priscilla Mullican |
(1915-06-12)June 12, 1915 | Indianola, Iowa | April 4, 1995(1995-04-04) (aged 79) | Andover, Massachusetts | 1937–1948 | Oren Haglund (1939-1939) Joseph A. Howard (1942–1976) |
Read more about Lane Sisters: Early Life, Career Beginnings, The Lane Sisters, Later Careers and Eventual Retirement, Personal Lives, Deaths, Trivia
Famous quotes containing the words lane and/or sisters:
“The dusk runs down the lane driven like hail;
Far off a precise whistle is escheat
To the dark; and then the towering weak and pale....”
—Allen Tate (1899–1979)
“The incomprehensibleness of women is an old theory, but what is that to the curious wondering observation with which wives, mothers, and sisters watch the other unreasoning animal in those moments when he has snatched the reins out of their hands, and is not to be spoken to!... It is best to let him come to, and feel his own helplessness.”
—Margaret Oliphant (1828–1897)