12 Facts for Tennessee Williams's Birthday

Photo by Evening Standard/Getty Images
Photo by Evening Standard/Getty Images

Born on March 26, 1911, Tennessee Williams is best known for having written such classic plays as The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire, and Cat On a Hot Tin Roof. He also hobnobbed with presidents, worked on a film that shocked the censors, and got to witness Marlon Brando’s plumbing skills firsthand.

1. His Given Name Wasn't Tennessee.

Thomas Lanier Williams III, the second child of Cornelius and Edwina Williams, was born in Columbus, Mississippi’s Episcopal rectory. At some point in 1938 or 1939, the young author—who’d previously been content to write under his given name—started calling himself “Tennessee.” Nobody knows why he chose this particular alias. In an autobiographical essay, Williams said that the nom de plume was a tribute to his ancestors who had “fought the Indians for Tennessee.” But he told one interviewer that “Tennessee Williams” originated as a nickname he’d received at the University of Iowa, his alma mater. “The fellows in my class could only remember that I was from a southern state with a long name. And when they couldn’t think of Mississippi, they settled on Tennessee,” he said. “That was all right with me, so when it stuck, I changed it permanently.”

2. Tennessee Williams's First Professional Work Was About a Murderous Egyptian Ruler.

Titled “The Vengeance of Nitocris,” this short story appeared in the August 1928 issue of Weird Tales, a widely-read pulp magazine. The plot focuses on an Egyptian monarch who may or may not have actually existed.

According to ancient historians, Egypt’s sixth dynasty ended with the reign of Queen Nitocris. The Greek historian Herodotus wrote that she was the successor of her late brother, who ruled the land before his subjects executed him. “Bent on avenging his death,” Herodotus wrote, “she devised a cunning scheme by which she destroyed a vast number of Egyptians.” Her plan would have done George R.R. Martin proud—Nitocris built a large underground chamber, invited everyone who’d plotted against her brother to come inside for a banquet, and then drowned them all by flooding the room with water from the Nile before killing herself in a room of hot ash.

Some modern experts aren’t convinced that Nitocris was a real person, but there’s no denying the narrative appeal of the tale. It certainly wasn’t lost on Williams, whose “Vengeance of Nitocris” is a dramatic re-telling of the famed mass-drowning.

Weird Tales purchased the story from a 16-year-old Williams for $35 (nearly $500 in today’s currency). In a 1959 article in The New York Times, the playwright reminisced about his print debut. “[If] you’re well-acquainted with my writings since then, I don’t have to tell you that it set the keynote for most of the work that has followed,” he said.

3. Before Making It Big in The World Of Theatre, Tennessee Williams Worked For A Shoe Company.

Williams and his family relocated to St. Louis in 1918. Eleven years later, the future playwright enrolled at the University of Missouri, where he briefly studied journalism. Then, in 1932, Williams’s education came to an abrupt halt when his parents forced him to leave school and take a job at the International Shoe Company, his father’s workplace. Earning a meager $65 per month, Williams was tasked with lugging crates through the city, dusting countless shoes, and putting tedious lists together. He hated it.

In 1939, long after he'd left the position, he claimed to be 25 years old—even though he was really 28—in order to enter an under-25s contest. As far as Williams was concerned, the three years he’d spent at the company were “dead” years that didn’t count.

4. In 1937, Tennessee Williams Entered A Playwriting Contest—And Lost.

In the fall of 1936, Williams joined the student body of Washington University in St. Louis. While there, he took part in the campus’s annual playwriting contest. His submission was a dark, politically-charged comedy called Me, Vashya. The story of a major arms dealer with severe marital problems, Me, Vashya failed to impress the judges, who gave it the fourth-place slot in their rankings. “It was a terrible shock and humiliation,” Williams later said. “It was a crushing blow to me.” Normally shy and reserved, the young writer “surprised himself” by bursting into a professor’s office to scream about the verdict.

Williams left Washington University for the University of Iowa in 1937, and he finally graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in English in 1938—the same year a radio adaptation of Me, Vashya hit airways.

The play was never performed theatrically during its author’s lifetime. However, in 2004, the Performing Arts Department at Washington University hosted the show’s world premiere as the main attraction of a Tennessee Williams symposium.

5. Tennessee Williams Once Went Skeet-Shooting With JFK.

Cairo, Shanghai, Bombay!, performed in 1935, was the first Tennessee Williams play that was ever staged (not counting a couple of plays produced for competition). A decade later, he established himself as one of America’s most promising—and critically-acclaimed—dramatists with The Glass Menagerie’s Broadway premiere.

His name was also getting to be well-known around Hollywood. The list of screenplays he helped pen includes Suddenly, Last Summer, a 1959 mystery flick. Based on Williams’s one-act play of the same name, its script was co-written by Gore Vidal.

While taking a break from their writing duties, the collaborators visited Palm Beach, Florida to meet up with two of Vidal’s acquaintances: John and Jackie Kennedy. Together, the four partook in some target-shooting, a sport at which Williams was apparently far more adept than JFK. Between gunshots, Williams made an approving comment to Vidal about the shapeliness of Mr. Kennedy’s rear end. The kind words were relayed to the Massachusetts Senator, who—as Vidal put it—“beamed.” Eying the New England couple, Williams quipped, “They’ll never elect those two. They are much too attractive for the American people.”

6. BABY DOLL (1956), A FILM THAT WILLIAMS CO-WROTE, WAS CONDEMNED BY THE CATHOLIC LEGION OF DECENCY.

Time magazine’s contemporary review of this movie cited it as “just possibly the dirtiest American-made motion picture that has ever been legally exhibited.” Based on Williams’s 1946 one-act play 27 Wagons Full of Cotton, Baby Doll is about a gorgeous blonde teenager whose husband has reluctantly agreed to hold off on consummating their relationship until her 20th birthday. Meanwhile, her spouse’s chief business rival—a suave ladies’ man played by Eli Wallach in his cinematic debut—hatches a plan to seduce the young virgin himself.

Though it contains no nudity and has a synopsis which might seem downright tame by today’s standards, Baby Doll’s sexually-charged plot sparked a major public outcry back in 1956—particularly in Catholic circles. Cardinal Francis Spellman, then the head of New York’s Archdiocese, ascended the pulpit of St. Patrick’s Cathedral and instructed his fellow Catholics to abstain from seeing it “under pain of sin.”

“The revolting theme of this picture,” Spellman declared, “and the brazen advertising promoting it constitute a contemptuous defiance of the natural law.”

Baby Doll also took some heat from the Legion of Decency, a Catholic-run film evaluation group that rated the movie “C”—for “condemned.” Accordingly, Catholic religious protestors started picketing theaters that screened the movie and a few such establishments even received bomb threats.

Despite the controversy, Baby Doll still went on to enjoy some moderate success at the box office and was nominated for four Academy Awards; Wallach took home a BAFTA prize for “Most Promising Newcomer to Film.”

7. When the U.S. State Department Refused to Grant Arthur Miller a Passport, Tennessee Williams Spoke On His Colleague’s Behalf.

When Arthur Miller’s The Crucible opened at the National Theatre of Belgium on March 9, 1954, the playwright had to miss it because the U.S. State Department rejected his application for a passport. As an agency spokesman explained, Miller’s rejection was due to “regulations denying passports to persons believed to be supporting the Communist movement.”

This didn’t sit well with Williams, who had long admired Miller and wasted little time in contacting the State Department to voice his displeasure. “I am in a position to tell you,” Williams wrote, “that Mr. Miller and his work occupy the very highest critical and popular position in the esteem of Western Europe, and this action can only serve to implement the Communist propaganda, which holds that our country is persecuting its finest artists and renouncing the principles of freedom on which our ancestors founded it … I have seen all his theatrical works. Not one of them contains anything but the most profound human sympathy and nobility of spirit that American theatre has shown in our time and perhaps any time before.”

8. Marlon Brando Fixed The Author’s Plumbing When He Auditioned For The Lead In A Streetcar Named Desire.

Brando famously originated the role of Stanley Kowalski on Broadway in 1947. He then immortalized this performance in the show’s 1951 movie adaptation, which landed the performer his first-ever Academy Award nomination. Before he could audition for the role, Brando—then an unknown stage actor—had to hitchhike over to a cottage that Tennessee Williams was renting in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Ultimately, the young hopeful arrived four or five days after the playwright had been told to expect him.

Once Brando got there, he got straight to work—but not on the script. “I had a houseful of people, the plumbing was flooded, and someone had blown the light fuse,” Williams revealed in his memoirs. “Someone said a kid named Brando was down on the beach and looked good. He arrived at dusk, wearing Levi’s, took one look at the confusion around him, and set to work. First he stuck his hand into the overflowing toilet bowl and unclogged the drain, then he tackled the fuses. Within an hour, everything worked. You’d think he had spent his entire antecedent life repairing drains. Then he read the script aloud, just as he played it. It was the most magnificent reading I ever heard, and he had the part [of Stanley Kowalski] immediately.”

9. Tennessee Williams Really Hated the Film Version of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.

The second Williams play to win a Pulitzer Prize (Streetcar was the first), Cat On a Hot Tin Roof also formed the basis of a critically-acclaimed movie adaptation. Released in 1958, it was one of the highest-grossing films of the year and received six Oscar nominations. The picture won over film critics and general audiences en masse, but Williams despised it.

While his original play contains strong homosexual undertones, American censorship rules called for script revisions that downplayed these themes; Williams was unhappy with the tweaks. Right before a showing in Florida, the playwright approached a crowd of cinema-goers who’d lined up outside the theater and said, “This movie will set the industry back 50 years. Go home!!”

10. Late In Life, Williams Acted in One of His Own Plays.

Although he penned more than 70 shows, Williams rarely took the stage himself. In fact, audiences didn’t get to see the writer display his acting chops in a professional production until 1972.

That year, Williams unveiled a new Off-Broadway play called Small Craft Warnings. Set in California, the two-act drama tells the story of some eclectic bar patrons and their preferred watering hole. One character, known simply as “Doc,” is a disgraced physician who must practice illegally after losing his medical license. Hoping to generate some extra publicity, Williams played this part for the first few performances in the original run.

11. He Wanted His Body To Be Thrown Into The Ocean.

Much confusion has arisen over the circumstances of Williams’s death. On February 25, 1983, the legendary storyteller was found dead in his Manhattan hotel suite. Although the official autopsy report claimed that he’d choked to death on a nasal spray bottle cap, this assertion has been contradicted by a few of his close friends—including his assistant Jon Uecker and fellow playwright Larry Myers. The latter has gone on the record as saying that the true cause of Williams’s demise was an acute intolerance to Seconal, a barbiturate drug which he’d taken to using as a sleeping pill.

If this is true, then why did the autopsy report blame a bottle cap? As Annette Saddik, a theatre professor at the New York City College of Technology, explained in a 2010 presentation, the situation was rather delicate. “When [Williams died], John Uecker… was still around and told the Medical Examiner, ‘Look, people are going to think it’s suicide or AIDS or something bizarre and we don’t know what happened,’” Saddik said. “So the Medical Examiner, said, ‘OK, he choked on a bottle cap.’ But really, his body just gave up and the eventual diagnosis was intolerance.”

At any rate, Williams had repeatedly stated that after his death, he wanted an ocean burial. Specifically, the playwright wished to have his body “sewn up in a clean white sack and dropped overboard 12 hours north of Havana so that my bones will rest not far from those of Hart Crane,” a poet who’d committed suicide by leaping off a steamship in that area. However, Tennessee’s brother, Dakin, elected to have him buried in St. Louis.

12. New Orleans Hosts a Major Festival In His Honor Every Year.

Throughout his adult life, Williams considered New Orleans his “spiritual home.” He’d spend many of his most productive years living in the Crescent City, penning his memoirs and the bulk of A Streetcar Named Desire amidst these stints. In 1986, the community decided to pay tribute to this aspect of its cultural heritage by kicking off an annual celebration dubbed the Tennessee Williams/New Orleans Literary Festival. Coinciding with the playwright’s birthday, it takes place over the course of five days and nights in late March. Events include live readings, theatrical performances, and Williams-themed walking tours. Best of all, participants get to don their best Marlon Brando impression and holler “Stella!” in a Streetcar-themed screaming contest.

This article first ran in 2017.

8 Gonzo Facts About Hunter S. Thompson

Hunter S. Thompson in Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson (2008)
Hunter S. Thompson in Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson (2008)
Magnolia Pictures

Like any real-life legend, there are many myths surrounding the life and work of Hunter S. Thompson. But in Thompson’s case, most of those stories—particularly the more outlandish ones—are absolutely true. The founder of the “Gonzo journalism” movement is one of the most fascinating figures of the 20th century. Here are some things you might not have known about the eccentric writer, who was born on July 18, 1937.

1. Hunter S. Thompson was named after a famous Scottish surgeon.

Hunter S. Thompson was reportedly named after one of his mother’s ancestors, a Scottish surgeon named Nigel John Hunter. But Hunter wasn't just your run-of-the-mill surgeon. In a 2004 interview with the Independent, Thompson brought along a copy of The Reluctant Surgeon, a Biography of Nigel John Hunter, a biography of his namesake, which read: "A gruff Scotsman, Hunter has been described as the most important naturalist between Aristotle and Darwin, the Shakespeare of medicine and the greatest man the British ever produced. He was the first to trace the lymphatic system. He performed the first human artificial insemination. He was the greatest collector of anatomical specimens in history. He prescribed the orthopaedic shoe that allowed Lord Byron to walk."

When pressed about what that description had to do with him, Thompson responded: "Well, I guess that might be the secret of my survival. Good genes."

2. Hunter S. Thompson missed his high school graduation ... because he was in jail.

Just a few weeks before he was set to graduate from high school, at the age of 17, Thompson was charged as an accessory to robbery and sentenced to 60 days in jail.

“One night Ralston Steenrod, who was in the Athenaeum with Hunter, was driving, and Hunter and another guy he knew were in the car,” Thompson’s childhood friend Neville Blakemore recalled of the incident. “As they were driv­ing through Cherokee Park, the other guy said, ‘Stop. I want to bum a ciga­rette from that car.’ People used to go park and neck at this spot. And the guy got out and apparently went back and mugged them. The guy who was mugged got their license number and traced the car, and within a very short time they were all three arrested.

“Just before this Hunter had been blamed for a nighttime gas-station rob­bery,” Blakemore added, “and before that he and some friends got arrested for buying booze under­age at Abe's Liquor Store on Frankfort Avenue by the tracks. So Hunter had a record, and he was already on probation. He was given an ultimatum: jail or the military. And Hunter took the Air Force. He didn't graduate with his class.”

3. Hunter S. Thompson's fellow journalist coined the term gonzo.


Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

While covering the 1968 New Hampshire primary, Thompson met fellow writer and editor Bill Carodoso, editor of The Boston Globe Sunday Magazine, which is where Thompson first heard him use the word “Gonzo.” “It meant sort of ‘crazy’ or ‘off-the-wall,’” Thompson said in Anita Thompson’s Ancient Gonzo Wisdom: Interviews with Hunter S. Thompson. Two years later, in June 1970, Thompson wrote an article for Scanlan’s Monthly entitled “The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved,” which became a game-changing moment in journalism because of its offbeat, slightly manic style that was written with first-person subjectivity.

Among the many fellow journalists who praised Thompson for the piece was Cardoso, who sent a letter to Thompson that “said something like, ‘Forget all the sh*t you’ve been writing, this is it; this is pure Gonzo.’ Gonzo. Yeah, of course. That’s what I was doing all the time. Of course, I might be crazy.” Thompson ran with the word, and would use it himself for the first time a year later, in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

4. Hunter S. Thompson typed out famous novels to learn the art of writing.

In order to get the “feel” of being a writer, Thompson used to retype his favorite novels in full. “[H]is true model and hero was F. Scott Fitzgerald,” Louis Menand wrote in The New Yorker. “He used to type out pages from The Great Gatsby, just to get the feeling, he said, of what it was like to write that way, and Fitzgerald’s novel was continually on his mind while he was working on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which was published, after a prolonged and agonizing compositional nightmare, in 1972.”

"If you type out somebody's work, you learn a lot about it,” Thompson said in 1997. “Amazingly it's like music. And from typing out parts of Faulkner, Hemingway, Fitzgerald—these were writers that were very big in my life and the lives of the people around me—so yeah, I wanted to learn from the best I guess."

5. Hunter S. Thompson ran for sheriff in Colorado.

In 1970, Thompson ran for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado on what he called the Freak Power ticket. Among his political tactics: shaving his head so that he could refer to his opponent as his “long-haired opponent,” promising to eat mescaline while on duty, and campaigning to rename Aspen “Fat City” to deter "greed heads, land-rapers, and other human jackals from capitalizing on the name 'Aspen.'" Unfortunately, he lost.

6. Hunter S. Thompson stole a memento from Ernest Hemingway.

In 1964, three years after Ernest Hemingway committed suicide at his cabin in Ketchum, Idaho, Thompson traveled to the late author’s home in order to write “What Lured Hemingway to Ketchum?” While there, according to his widow, Hunter “got caught up in the moment” and took “a big pair of elk horns over the front door.” In 2016, more than a decade after Thompson’s death, Anita returned the antlers to the Hemingway family—which is something she and Hunter had always planned to do. “They were warm and kind of tickled … they were so open and grateful, there was no weirdness,” Anita said.

7. Hunter S. Thompson once used the inside of musician John Oates's colorado cabin as his personal parking space.


Magnolia Pictures

Earlier this month, musician John Oates—the latter half of Hall & Oates—shared a story about his ranch in Woody Creek, Colorado, just outside of Aspen, which is currently on the market for $6 million. In an interview with Colorado Public Radio, Oates recalled how when he first purchased the cabin, there was a red convertible parked inside. “I happened to ask the real estate agent who owned the convertible, and he said ‘your neighbor Hunter Thompson,’” Oates said. “Why is he keeping his car in a piece of property he doesn’t own? The real estate agent looked at me and said ‘It’s Woody Creek, you’ll figure this out. It’s a different kind of place.’” After sending several letters to his neighbor to retrieve his vehicle, Oates took matters into his own hands and deposited the car on Thompson’s lawn. Oates said that the two became friends, but never mentioned the incident.

8. Hunter S. Thompson's ashes were shot out of a cannon at his funeral.

On February 20, 2005—at the age of 67—Thompson committed suicide. But Thompson wasn’t about to leave this world quietly. In August of that year, in accordance with his wishes, Thompson's ashes were shot into the air from a cannon while fireworks filled the sky.

“He loved explosions," his widow, Anita, told ESPN, which wrote that, “The private celebration included actors Bill Murray and Johnny Depp, rock bands, blowup dolls and plenty of liquor to honor Thompson, who killed himself six months ago at the age of 67.”

House Boasting a ‘Harry Potter Room’ Under the Stairs Hits the Market in San Diego

Cupboard under the stairs featured on the Warner Bros. Studio Tour: The Making of Harry Potter in London.
Cupboard under the stairs featured on the Warner Bros. Studio Tour: The Making of Harry Potter in London.
Matt Robinson, Flickr // CC BY 2.0

When Harry Potter fans dream of living like the boy wizard, they may picture Harry's cozy quarters in the Gryffindor dormitory at Hogwarts. One home owner in San Diego, California is trying to spin one of Harry's much less idyllic living situations as a magical feature. As The San Diego Union-Tribune reports, a listing of a three-bedroom house for sale in the city's Logan Heights neighborhood boasts a "Harry Potter room"—a.k.a storage room under the stairs.

In the Harry Potter books, the cupboard under the stairs of the Dursley residence served as Harry's bedroom before he enrolled in Hogwarts. Harry was eager to escape the cramped, dusty space, but thanks to the series' massive success, a similar feature in a real-world home may be a selling point for Harry Potter fans.

Kristin Rye, the seller of the San Diego house, told The Union-Tribune she would read Harry Potter books to her son, though she wouldn't describe herself as a super fan. As for why she characterized her closet as a “large ‘Harry Potter’ storage room underneath stairs" in her real estate listing, she said it was the most accurate description she could think of. “It’s just this closet under the stairs that goes back and is pretty much like a Harry Potter room. I don’t know how else to describe it," she told the newspaper.

Beyond the cupboard under the stairs, Rye's listing doesn't bear much resemblance to the cookie-cutter, suburban home of 4 Privet Drive. Nearly a century old, the San Diego house has the same cobwebs and a musty smells you might expect from the Hogwarts dungeons, the newspaper reports. But there are some perks, including a parking spot and backyard space for a garden or pull-up bar. The 1322-square-foot home is listed at $425,000—cheaper than the median price of $620,000 for a resale single-family home in the area.

If you want to live like a wizard, you don't necessarily need to start by moving under a staircase. In North Yorkshire, England, a cottage modeled after Hagrid's Hut is available to rent on a nightly basis.

[h/t The San Diego Union-Tribune]

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