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Jerry Lewis ceased to be funny on July 17,1965. Well, anyway it was the last time I ever laughed at a Jerry Lewis
performance. My best friend Jim and I had nothing to do on a hot summer afternoon and decided to go to a movie.
Jerry Lewis’ “The Nuttly Professor” was playing nearby and we decided to go and waste the afternoon watching
Jerry Lewis chase Stella Stevens on screen for a couple of hours. Neither of us liked Jerry much, but Stella Stevens
was at the time the most drop dead gorgeous actress in Hollywood. And, as a 16 year old boy, there was no better way
to spend your time and money than to sit in the cool, dark theater watching your dream girl. The movie was kind of dumb,
but we didn’t care. Afterwards I drove us both home. Jim lived just down the block from me, so I dropped
him off in front of his house and then drove on home.
When I dropped him off we both noticed something unusual.
His father’s car was parked in the driveway at an angle; not perfectly straight. You need to know that Jim’s
dad was a little different. Today we would call him Obsessive Compulsive, but back then we just called him weird.
Once he was so upset with the way his grass in his front yard looked after mowing that he spent a week cutting it with hand
clippers. By the time he was done the part he had clipped a week earlier needed to be done again. Finally, he
bought a new mower and put an end to that foolishness. But that was Jim’s dad; a real head case. We didn’t
know it at the time but he was far more disturbed than anyone realized.
I remember Jimmy acting a little concerned
when he saw the car parked so awkwardly. He must have had a strong feeling something just wasn’t right.
I too felt odd about it and thought maybe I ought to go down there to see if everything was alright. I went into my
house for a few minutes then came back out front to ask my mom something. She and our neighbor were standing in the
street looking down the block in the direction of Jim’s house.
“Is everything OK with
Jimmy?”, she asked.
I replied, “Sure, why?”
“There’s
a police car in front of his house.”
I looked and there was a Phoenix Police car parked directly in front of Jim’s
house.
“I’m going down there and see what’s going on.”, I said.
And then jogged down the 4 or 5 houses to Jim’s place. When I got to his front door it was open. I could
see Jim sitting on the living room sofa with his head bowed staring at the floor. I felt an immense dread and said nothing
to Jim. I walked past him and turned to go down the hall. There was a tall policeman standing with his back to
me looking into the bathroom, making notes on a pad of paper.
It was then that I saw Jim’s dad’s feet
extending through the bathroom door into the hall, covered in blood. I peaked around the corner of the bathroom door
and all I could see was red. There was blood everywhere, on the floor, the ceiling, the vanity, the sink; everywhere.
I am told Jim’s mom’s body was on the floor near the commode, but I don’t remember that. I just remember
red everywhere.
I couldn’t move and it was just then the police officer noticed me standing there.
I must have startled him and he almost yelled at me, “Who are you?” I replied that I was the best friend
of the boy in the living room. He calmed a little and said softly, “You should probably go be with your friend.
His mom and dad are gone.” I went into the living room and just sat there with Jim until my mom came down to see
what was taking so long. She spoke with the officer and we took Jim down to our house where he stayed for the next week
until his family from Iowa came out and moved him back to the mid-west.
We learned later that Jim’s
dad had snapped over some little thing and killed his wife then himself. Jim found the bodies after I dropped him off
and called the police. Jimmy was never the same after that day. A few years later he came by for a visit, but
we both could find nothing to talk about. The weight of that afternoon was too much. Also, from that day Jerry
Lewis was never again funny and Stella Stevens just didn’t do anything for me anymore.
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