Tales of Near-Fame Echo in Estate Halls and Lives of Tenants

Lucille Gould becomes giddy as her thoughts wander to 1935, her deceased husband, Charles, and screen actor Robert Taylor.

“Why, if it weren’t for my husband, you might never have heard of him,” said Gould, a raspy-voiced resident at Horace Heidt’s Magnolia Estate Apartments in Sherman Oaks.

Taylor, then a relative unknown, threatened to quit the cast of “Magnificent Obsession” when filming bogged down, Gould said--at least until Charles Gould, assistant director of the picture, stepped in to appease the brooding actor.

Gould remembers her husband saying to Taylor: “Look, you’re making $750 per week. You get to keep the wardrobe. And after this film is released you’ll have a name.” The actor heeded his advice and went on to stardom.

Yarns of half-successes and forgotten gossip are relentlessly traded and discarded in the 170-unit apartment complex, which mainly houses aging members of the entertainment industry who never made it to the top.

One weary man, slouched in a wire lawn chair, casually drops Al Jolson’s name. Another boasts how he convinced television actor “Dickie” Van Patten to live on the estate when he and his family first moved to Los Angeles. A third opines about an alleged affair President Warren Harding had with a Broadway leading lady.

“A lot of people talk about the past here,” said 73-year-old Alan Bandler, a former dancer and stage manager. “Did you ever know a movie or theater person who didn’t?”

“It’s always, ‘When I did this. When I did that.’ The actors are the worst,” said Gould, her face masked by oversized sunglasses.

Gould and Bandler’s dialogue is a frenetic one, bouncing from decade to decade, theater to theater, starlet to starlet. Its random drift mirrors the tone of the surroundings in which they speak. The complex is a variegated visual feast, a place where Gilligan’s Island, the back nine and Kiddie World all seem only a few steps away.

Some Were Successful

Some residents enjoyed successful careers in show business. The current tenant roll lists singer Roberta Sherwood, clarinetist Gus Bivona, actress Barbara Hale and actor Warren Stevens, who appeared in the film “Forbidden Planet.”

But most come from the ranks of anonymous musicians, bit players and singers who never made it out of the chorus.

“If you made it big, you would have moved out of here and into a big mansion in Beverly Hills,” said one woman.

Tenants recurrently aver that actors Art Carney, Ed Begley and Richard Arlen lived at the complex a quarter century ago. An often cited--but unsubstantiated--rumor has it that even Neil Diamond rented an apartment there for about a month.

Like its tenants’ conversations, the complex’s physical makeup seems anchored to the past. It’s a low-rent, never-never land, an anachronistic hamlet that bears no resemblance to the strip centers and parched lawns beyond its entrance on Magnolia Drive.

An aria, sung by a deep and resonant baritone, filters through the compound. Lush tropical plants border replicated volcanoes and waterfalls. The apartments surround a winding 18-hole pitch-and-putt golf course. An aviary occupied by dozens of exotic pheasants abuts the complex’s driveway.

“This place is like an E ticket to Disneyland,” said Doug Campbell, 33, one of the few younger residents at Magnolia Estates.

Patterned after a typical Hawaiian village on one side and a Palm Springs resort on the other, the estate was built during the late 1950s by Heidt, the late bandleader and roving talent scout, for his “discoveries” who came to California to play with his band. Heidt’s son, Horace Jr. assumed control of the property after his father died of pneumonia last December.

By all accounts, the elder Heidt regarded the 14-acre complex as a personal empire. To ensure a theatrical and musical community, Heidt--who lived alone in a spacious, low-slung house on the grounds--screened all applicants before permitting them to move in, tenants said.

‘Liked Entertainment People’

“He definitely liked entertainment people,” one woman said. “If you didn’t belong to the theater business, he didn’t want to rent to you. It was that simple.”

Residents still deferentially refer to the former owner as Mr. Heidt.

“He would be the master of ceremonies at our parties. And, oh, he could make us all laugh,” Gould said. “But the next day he’d walk around here and act as if he didn’t even know you.”

Ambling across the surreal grounds takes visitors into another world where time, at first glance, stands still. They are greeted by Heidt’s 1963 Buick Riviera that hasn’t been moved in at least 15 years. It’s painted like a security patrol car. The tropical surroundings are decorated by pink flamingos and stone deer. Bordering the central office is a scale model of Van Nuys Boulevard in 1962.

“We certainly respect the past here,” said Horace Jr., who is also a bandleader. “We’re trying to preserve a kind of life untouched by Los Angeles.”

Room Full of Mementos

Deference to bygone times is most striking in Horace Sr.’s personal trophy room, a near-shrine replete with relics of his achievements. In it, one finds autographed pictures of Dwight Eisenhower, Harry Truman and hundreds of entertainers; a 48-star flag; a miniature jukebox; mementos from Heidt’s show tours during the Korean War; a 1920 boxing award, and the Tums “Pot-O-Gold” wheel, a prop for his call-in radio show. On one wall, Heidt framed sheet music of some of the more popular tunes he composed, including “The Man with the Mandolin,” “Ti-Pi-Tin” and “I’ll Love You in My Dreams.”

But while echoes of the past envelop the complex, time’s erosive powers are starkly evident as well. Dirt patches mar the golf course. Peeling and chipped paint, ripped carpets and musty vinyl furniture define the estate as one in partial disrepair.

“I try very hard to keep it like my father had it,” Horace Jr. said. “But it’s not in the condition I’d like it to be in. It needs fixing up a little bit.”

Long Waiting List

Despite the unkempt appearance of some facilities at the complex, most residents interviewed said they enjoy living there. Barbara Jackson, manager of the estate, said there is a long waiting list for prospective tenants.

“Everyone feels like they’re part of a family here,” she said.

An additional reason for the high demand is the low price. Some of the two-bedroom apartments cost less than $400 per month, occupants said.

“No one leaves here unless you die or move out of town,” Gould said.

The Horace Heidt’s Magnolia Estate Apartments is certainly not a retirement home. In fact, one tenant said, Heidt “threw a fit” when someone referred to the complex as one on Johnny Carson’s “Tonight Show.”

Nevertheless, most residents contacted expressed few goals for the future. Youth and current trends seem wholly out of place.

“You’d think we’d like to get on to the future,” said Geoffrey Lardner, a 63-year-old actor. “But nostalgia is a good, comfortable feeling.”

Added Campbell: “Some people around here call this place God’s Waiting Room.”