Here in Southern California, we celebrated Independence Day 2019 with a moderately successful earthquake. The quake’s publicist claimed it was 6.5 Richter — but you know how agents always exxxagggerate.
Of course, all quakes try to live up to THE BIG ONE — the San Francisco earthquake of ….
But I’m getting ahead of myself. This story is really about a man I — well, maybe not admire or want to emulate, but a fellow who fascinates me. I’m referring to John Sidney Blyth, who achieved fame under the name John Barrymore.
Those who have a good education will know him as the most celebrated actor of early 20th century stage and later movies.
The culturally inept should be told that he was Drew’s grandfather.
Barrymore was not only a celebrated actor, but a world class drinker. His drinking was so bad …. (How bad was it?)
Well, that is the whole point of this story.
When Barrymore was a relatively young man and relatively new (but gaining a reputation) as an actor, he was already testing his limits with alcohol. This was right after the turn of the century — certainly before Prohibition — so the booze flowed easily and steadily.
While acting in plays, Barrymore would go out afterward and drink the night away, often collapsing unconcious to sleep it off.
One such night, the young actor left the theater, made the rounds of his favorite establishments, and then retired to his hotel room to collapse — as usual — still fully dressed in a tuxedo shirt and pants with his jacket and tie askew.
When he awoke, the world was a different place. Still groggy from the night’s grog, he stumbled from the hotel to find the town in shambles.
San Francisco had been leveled by a massive earthquake.
History, through her spokesperson Wikipedia, tells us that the quake struck at 5:12 a.m. on Wednesday, April 18, 1906 with an estimated moment magnitude of 7.9. At the risk of losing my audience by introducing mathematics, the Richter scale is logarithmic. That means that a 2.0 quake is ten times as strong as a 1.0. And a 3.0 is ten times stronger than a 2.0, which means it is 100 times the intensity of 1.0. When we get to 4.0, it is 1000 times as disruptive, and … well just carry on this train of thought until you get to 8.0 and you’ll see how devestating the San Francisco earthquake was.
And young Barrymore slept right through it.
Not only were buildings toppled and streets buckled, but fires broke out all over the city and raged for days. Around 3,000 people died and more than 80% of the city was destroyed.
Into this mess stumbles drunk and hung-over John Barrymore. Try to put yourself in his place. Better yet — don’t put yourself there.
He wrote a letter to his father complaining about being caught in such a disaster, but since he was not harmed, he was given a shovel and told to help dig out — help find trapped people, and clear roadways. My goodness! He was a Artiste! An Actor! How dare they make him perform menial labor.
Years afterward, Barrymore’s father — also an actor — told acquaintances some good came out of the disaster.
“It took an act of God to get John Barrymore out of bed and the US Army to make him work!”
Barrymore’s life was tumultuous — and that is a fun word to use in a sentence. Alcohol ruled him from the age of 14 until he died at age 60. His work deteriorated along with his memory and his looks. He went from being the most idolized actor of his day — and some claim that he was the best Hamlet ever — to playing drunks and has-beens on the silver screen.
Fortunately, our current earthquake did little damage, but I can’t help but think that everytime California has an trembler, John Barrymore is in heaven exclaiming, “My GOD! I’m trying to sleep!”
