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P. Kessinger; Ran Paramount Commissary

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Pauline Kessinger, doyenne for 42 years of Paramount Studios’ commissary, where she catered to such luminaries as Cecil B. De Mille, the Shah of Iran and even Roy Rogers’ horse, Trigger, has died. She was believed to be in her mid-80s.

Mrs. Kessinger died June 11 at the Motion Picture & Television Hospital in Woodland Hills after a lengthy illness.

An apocryphal Hollywood legend claims that Adolph Zukor, who made Paramount Pictures a major studio, found Mrs. Kessinger standing on the studio lot in 1928 and built a commissary around her.

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Her own version, as she told The Times a year before the studio shut down its food services in 1970, was that she and her husband, Coley, had just been married in Oklahoma and came out to have a look at Hollywood. He stayed on as a studio grip (until his death in 1964) and she became a waitress.

Within 10 years, Mrs. Kessinger moved up to cashier and then manager of the round-the-clock lot’s four restaurants with 80 employees.

She was praised for deftly serving 1,500 midnight meals and then beginning preparation of 1,500 box lunches for the next day’s location shooting. She also made food used as film props, such as the banquet fare in the golden calf scene in “The Ten Commandments.”

“We cooked thousands of pounds of beef and pork, made millions of baskets of fruit,” she recalled in 1969. “It seemed endless.”

De Mille rewarded her unflagging service by making her one of 50 people who shared profits from the epic film.

Mrs. Kessinger always took great care in serving “Mr. De Mille” whatever he wanted. When he asked her for a set menu for every day of the week, she made him split pea soup, custard pie and coffee every Monday for 15 years. One day no peas were delivered, and the Hollywood hostess was sure her career had ended.

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“He looked at me, grinned an incredible grin,” she recalled, “and said, ‘Honey, I’ve always meant to tell you I hate split pea soup, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. How about vegetable?’ ”

Mrs. Kessinger’s favorite star customers were Dorothy Lamour, Alan Ladd, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope and John Wayne.

“In those days there were no reserved tables, except for Mr. De Mille and his staff,” she said. “There were napkins and tablecloths.”

By the time the studio food service closed, reservations were accepted, but there were no tablecloths and the napkins were paper. Her domain had dwindled to a single restaurant with 16 employees.

Not even feeding Trigger in the executive dining room in the commissary’s heyday fazed Mrs. Kessinger, although it required extra cleaning.

“Trigger wasn’t so bad,” she said, “except that he kicked a hole in the wall.”

She was ever wary of visits by comedian Jerry Lewis, even though she considered him “a delight” and “terribly funny.” He frequently demonstrated his method of busing dishes--giving a tablecloth a yank--that took hours to clean up.

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“I lived in constant dread he’d pick up a tray full of food and then drop it,” she said. “And, of course, one day he did just that. I retaliated by sending him the bill.”

She had long resisted De Mille’s offer to set her up with a private Hollywood restaurant, but did manage one on Sunset Boulevard for a brief time after her work at Paramount had ended.

Mrs. Kessinger is survived by a half sister, Katie Jo Collins.

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