Sadness for a Searcher

On reading Gregg Barrios’ moving portrait of his long-lost heroine, Carol Ohmart, (“The Last Starlet,” Jan. 1 and 8), I felt very moved--and very sad. But my sadness was not for Ohmart.

The actress’ scapegoats were anything and anyone within reach--she blamed her mother, the system, the Hollywood of the ‘50s, the producers.

The real victim in this story of fading dreams and fallen stardom is the writer, Barrios. How let down he must have felt when he discovered that his childhood fantasy turned out to be anything but the pure beauty queen with a heart as golden as her yellow hair. What a shock to discover that the object of one’s former fan club was a weak, bitter woman who delighted in turning her back on society and blaming others for her shortcomings.

I’m sorry, Mr. Barrios. Instead of searching so long and hard to find the answer to “whatever happened to Carol Ohmart,” I think it might have been better to let the sleeping dogs lie--or in this case, an image that really stopped existing back in 1958.

ARLENE GREENE

Beverly Hills