My Other Mother, Patricia Neal

 

I woke up at two this morning, and after tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, I finally accepted that I just wasn't going to fall back asleep. And how could I? I soon discovered that my mother, Oscar-winning actress Patricia Neal, had died a few hours earlier at the age of 84. Okay, fine. Patricia Neal was NOT my mother—but for a turbulent period in the early 1970s, I wanted to believe that I was the long-lost child of Neal and her husband, writer Roald Dahl. 

In 1971, my parents' marriage was deteriorating into full crash and burn. Ugly, screaming fights became the norm. My poor young parents were so caught up in the pain of their imploding marriage that they weren't able to reign in their emotions. My brother and sister had their own ways of coping, but as I wrote in 2005, my escape came via my faithful friend, the small black-and-white television perched on my bedroom dresser. The more my parents fought, the more I raised the volume on the fantasy family I could pretend was mine.

Long before I was familiar with Patricia Neal's brilliant work in films, I was transfixed by her performance as Olivia Walton in “The Homecoming,” the original movie about the Walton family of Virginia that spawned the TV series. All of the "real" Walton kids were present in the movie, but Miss Michael Learned had not yet donned Olivia Walton’s apron. The part of the mother was played by a stoic but loving Patricia Neal, the real-life wife of author Roald Dahl.

At the time, my two favorite books were Dahl’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” and “James and the Giant Peach.” At first glance they seemed to be fun, colorful children’s stories, but the books were actually dark, macabre studies of human fallibility. While Charlie and James exhibited a carefree innocence that belied their bleak, poverty-stricken lives, they were surrounded by a coterie of unsavory, mean-spirited, and even sadistic characters. I don’t think any so-called children’s author in history understood the dark side of childhood as well as Roald Dahl. I had never thought of writing to a famous person before, but that spring, holed up alone in my room with my books and portable TV, I longed to communicate with the creator of these sinister tales.

The few words that Roald Dahl wrote back to me on a postcard from Norway are implanted in my brain and I can recite them without taking a breath: “My dear Danny—Your splendid letter has followed me here. Thank you so much for writing. With love from Roald Dahl.” I used to study the Rand McNally globe in my bedroom and imagine the journey my splendid letter took as it traveled from Dahl’s estate in Buckinghamshire, England all the way to his vacation resort in Spitsbergen, Norway. And there, at his side, possibly reading my letter over her dear husband’s shoulder and wiping tears from her eyes at the poignancy of my words, was the original Olivia Walton, Patricia Neal.

 

Dahl and Neal perfectly filled the role of replacement parents. I gobbled up the story of Patricia Neal’s debilitating strokes—she suffered three aneurysms on February 17, 1965. Newspapers around the world blared the headline: “Film Actress Patricia Neal Dies from Stroke at 39.” The year before Neal had won a Best Actress Oscar for her magnificent performance as Alma, the earthy housekeeper in “Hud.” No one expected her to survive the strokes or the three-week coma that followed. When she finally emerged, the pregnant actress was paralyzed on her right side and unable to speak or understand conversations. It was her husband Roald Dahl who was largely credited for bringing his wife back to life through sheer stubbornness, love, and his tireless work helping to create a new kind of shunt that would drain the cerebrospinal fluid from his wife's damaged brain. Patricia Neal was obviously as stubborn as her husband, and defied all of the doctors’ prognoses. “We Tennessee hillbillies don’t conk out that easy,” she later said. What an incredible love story, I thought. Why were the Dahls able to triumph through adversity while my own family collapsed like a house of cards?

Shortly after getting the postcard from Roald Dahl, I went to see the just-opened movie “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.” I reveled in the dismal depictions of childhood dysfunction. Whether it was the gluttony of Augustus Gloop, the spoiled excess of Veruca Salt, the nasty gum-chewing habits of Violet Beauregard, or the brain-killing media obsession of Mike Teavee, it was obvious that these vices were the by-products of their toxic families. As the Oompa Loompas sang:

Oompa Loompa doompadee doo
I've got another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa doompadah dee
If you are wise you will listen to me

Who do you blame when your kid is a brat
Pampered and spoiled like a Siamese cat?
Blaming the kids is a lie and a shame
You know exactly who's to blame:
THE MOTHER AND THE FATHER!

This 1970s view of parental responsibility suited me just fine. I started planning my summers with my new family in England and Norway. Surely Roald Dahl and Patricia Neal would welcome me into their large clan with open arms. “With love from Roald Dahl,” he wrote, not “Sincerely, Mr. Dahl.” Did Patricia Neal turn down “The Waltons” TV series so she’d have more time for us, her real children?

The next children’s book that Roald Dahl published was called “Danny the Champion of the World.” What was I to think? The author was obviously so inspired by my splendid letter and my pluck and determination that it inspired this new story. I searched in vain for any mention of me in the book’s dedication or the interviews he gave about his new work. But nothing could convince me that I wasn’t his Danny. Let’s see…how much allowance money did I need to get a one-way ticket to Gipsy House, the sprawling Dahl estate I would soon be calling home?

But like the characters in his books, I eventually realized that life does not provide any trouble-free Golden Tickets. It turned out that Roald Dahl and Patricia Neal had enough pain and misery in their lives to make my family drama look pretty rosey. The pain began even before their marriage. I read about Patricia Neal’s tumultuous five-year affair with Gary Cooper. At one point, Neal received a telegram that read, “I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOU. YOU HAD BETTER STOP NOW OR YOU WILL BE SORRY. MRS. GARY COOPER.” Neal ultimately ended the affair and sent Cooper back to his wife. She had become pregnant during her affair with Gary Cooper and had an abortion, a decision she regretted for the rest of her life. Shortly thereafter, at a party in New York, she met an up-and-coming English author.

Patricia Neal and Roald Dahl were married on July 2, 1953, one month to the day before my Chicago parents walked down the aisle. But the Dahls’ married life was hardly the carefree one I fantasized about. The Dahls had five children but their infant son, Theo, was struck by a taxi, and needed years of physical therapy following a debilitating brain injury. (It was because of this injury that Dahl learned so much about the brain and was later able to help develop the shunt that saved his wife's life.) A few years after Theo's accident, the Dahls' eldest daughter, Olivia, contracted a bad case of the measles and died at the age of 7. And in the end, Roald Dahl and Patricia Neal went through their own well publicized divorce that was even more hideous than what my parents put each other through. Neal told all in her autobiography, “As I Am,” and following Dahl’s death in 1990 many people concurred that he could be a ruthless, egotistical bully. 

Patricia Neal was interviewed by Robert Osborne several years ago on Turner Classic Movies. Despite all the pain she suffered in her marriage and the awful things she wrote about her former husband, she admitted that he was the love of her life and that she still loved him with all her heart.  Go figure. It took decades, but my own family recovered from my parents’ divorce to such an extent that my father was one of the main speakers at my mother’s funeral. Like a good Roald Dahl story, life is so much more complex than lesser authors would have us believe.

Last February, as I mentioned on this blog, my son Charlie had a warm encounter with Patricia Neal. Kendall and Charlie were at Farmers Market when a woman in a wheelchair with a very distinctive gravelly voice started admiring Charlie. The two of them started flirting with each other and Charlie reached out to the elderly woman. When Kendall looked up she realized the woman in the wheelchair was none other than Neal. They talked for a while and Kendall complimented the actress on her magnificent career. Playing with Charlie, Neal never knew that her own tragedies were partly responsible for saving our son's life. 

As a result of his extreme prematurity, my son suffered a Grade IV Intraventricular Hemmorrhage on the left side of his brain at birth, the very same place where Neal had her strokes. Like Neal, Charlie has delays on the right side of his body and he still gets physical therapy to help him compensate for the damage. Also like Neal, Charlie has a shunt in his brain that drains excess fluid into his peritoneal cavity. He'll have the shunt for the rest of his life. I am eternally grateful for the pioneering efforts of so many, including Roald Dahl and Patricia Neal, that made this life-saving device possible. In addition to the amazing film work Neal leaves behind, one of her great legacies is the Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center in East Tennessee that continues to help all sorts of people with brain injuries rebuild their lives. 

Rest in peace, Grandma!

Comments

[tamarika]

Danny,
What an amazing piece this is! It took my breath away - not only from the story itself, but from the way you wind in and out and around making connections, twisting and turning from the past to the present, to your ever so personal life to your son's. What a writer you are!

BTW, I think Patricia Neal was in my all time favorite move - "The Subject Was Roses." Am I right?

[Howard Harawitz]

As a young man I loved Patricia Neal in "the Day the Earth Stood Still" and can remember reading with shock and sadness about those early strokes. Thanks for sharing.

[Jen]

Another wonderful tribute. I hope her family gets to read this one.

[laurie]

What a fascinating tribute Danny! I had no idea you and your family had so many connections to Patricia Neal. I love your writing.

[Frances Archer]

Great post, Danny. Amazing how close you came to meeting your idol in person, but that your wife and son met her in your place was equally fitting.

[Karen]

All I can say is, WOW!!! I think this is one of the best blogs you've ever written, and such an amazing story. The connections you had with her are amazing. I best remember her from "Breakfast at Tiffany's", one of my favorite movies. I loved loved loved reading this!So touching...

[Pam G]

Enjoyed reading your tribute. I remember you saying in the past how much you admired Neal and her then husband. I'm sorry to hear that she's gone now, but what an amazing life and career she had.

[susie specter]

Dear Danny! What a marvelous story and tribute! I loved seeing the postcard w/ the Drake address and your photos! poignant and moving, i always admired miss neal's work! Oy, someday i want to have a movie and tv marathon w/ you! best w/ kisses and hugs to all of you!

[Mindy]

I'm spending the summer in France, and when I heard the news of Ms. Neal's death, the first thing I did was go to your blog. You didn't let me down. Wonderful tribute!

Coincidentally, I found your blog looking up something on Roald Dahl, and voila! I keep returning.

[Julie R.]

Danny, I agree with your other fans that this is a particularly moving post.

By the way, I think it's fair for you to think that your letter had something to do with Dahl writing "Danny, Champion of the World."

[Heather]

I have been waiting all day for your post. Patricia Neal was born in Whitley Co. Kentucky, right near the border of Tennessee, in coal camp called Packard. I grew up being a fan since she was from a coal camp(as my family was) and since we lived just 20 miles north of where she was born. She was our own "local gal who made it big" and we were so proud of her. I had totally forgotten about all of the advances in stroke care because of her. Beautiful tribute Danny.

[Judy]

Just found out that Pattricia Neal died from your blog. I too loved Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant peach, even though i was a lot older than you when I read them. I was also a fan of hers. i do think you are the one and only: Danny, the Champion of the World!!! Great connections. Another great tribute to broken marriages too.

[Otir]

What to say Danny? This was an absolute beautiful eulogy to Ms Neal. Sorry for your loss and so thank you for bringing her legacy for such a blessing in your and Charlie's lives.

[Cleo Gascoyne]

It's so nice to know that other kids were doing the same kind of magical thinking that I was. I too had a 'thinking makes it so' orientation to life which allowed me to travel well beyond the brick and mortar reality of my world. I remember being shocked to discover from Patricia Neal's bio how disloyal Roald Dahl was, and I 'punished' him by not reading any of his books. His writing talent won out however as my three children are all huge fans.

[The Pliers]

I just watched "Hud" about 6 months ago, commercial-free, from beginning to end, as an adult. I may have seen it as a kid but had not lasting memory of it. But this time I was so impressed, especially with Patricia Neal's performance.

I remember your post about the close encounter that Charlie and Kendall had with PN at the Farmer's Market and also think that this is one of your greatest pieces. I too love the blending of all the story lines!

I'm in France for the duration and am completely unplugged from the news, so thank you for having made me aware of her death and her great impact on you.

Amitiés,

[Gordon]

Dear Danny,

I had a little pang when I read this blog entry because I somehow missed the news that Patricia Neal had died.

A couple of years ago, my friends were on a cruise across the Atlantic, and Patricia Neal was a guest on the ship. She gave a talk about her life, and offered her autobiography for sale, of which my friends bought a copy. Subsequently, they loaned it to me to read. What a fascinating story !

And, then, for Kendall and Charlie to actually meet her at the Farmers' Market, was incredibly lucky.

I hadn't realized that Charlie was still having some residual health issues. I guess it's because he looks and acts like any perfectly healthy little boy.
The thing that strikes me about Charlie is that he seems to be uncommonly happy, all the time.
What a blessing.

Thanks,
Gordon

[RD]

Danny, I agree with the others--one of your best pieces of writing! I didn't know that Patricia Neal was married to Roald Dahl. And all the connections you make seem to point to this being your family, yes! Was Charlie named in honor of Roald's character? And he met her at the Farmer's Market recently? Too many coincidences!

[Eva]

Danny, I am not sure that I can provide the facts (I will try to research it), but it was my understanding that Roald Dahl had an anti-Semitic streak. I was surprised that you did not refer to that in your entry, since you seem to know just about everything there is to know about people you write about. But as always, your paean was beautiful and sensitively written. I am so glad that we have YOU around!

[Cerebrospinal Fluid]

Very very long and interesting story. Thanks!

[Kate]

Wonderful story! She was special to me too, also starting with the The Homecoming. I just wanted to tell you, because I had a daughter with birth complications, that I had such good luck taking her to a napropath who specializes in Infants. It's really important developmentally (brain, body, language) to be symmetrical and she helped tremendously. I went to Upledger Institute and found the person in my area with the most infant training. She's in Chicago at Lawrence and Western and her name is Elaine Stocker but napropaths can be found everywhere.