Looking for Mabel Normand

Sally Dumaux (1938-2006)

A Tribute to a Dear Friend

by Annette D'Agostino Lloyd

This is not an easy piece for me to write--and for many, it may not be easy to read and digest-but though the loss of a good friend is never easy to accept, the sharing and celebrating of the life lost, as Shakespeare noted, "makes the remembrance dear." How dear this remembrance is.

On December 3, 2006, cinema historian and author Sally Dumaux lost a brave and valiant battle with cancer. She was 68 years of age, and is survived by one daughter, Holly. She also left behind a bevy of friends, comrades, admirers and heroes--all of us who were fortunate enough to know and befriend, inspire and be inspired by, this one-of-a-kind person.

She was born Sally Ann O'Malley (what a maiden name!) in Flint, Michigan, on July 21, 1938. An only child, she latched on early and hard to theatrical performance--as an only child myself, I understand the camaraderie and inclusion that histrionics offers--and Sally spent many happy years participating in amateur theatrics in her home town. She best enjoyed musicals and comedies: she sang, danced and whooped her way through scores of shows, and gave the joy she felt freely.

After her marriage to William Edward Dumaux (1932-1989), the young couple relocated to Los Angeles, and Sally undertook college life at UCLA, studying Library Science. She eventually found work at the LA Public Library downtown, specializing in work for the Southern California Answering Network--she published a series of editions of Sources for Photographs in the Los Angeles Metropolitan Area, which aided researchers in the preservation of the memory of the rich area where she loved living. Sally spent many years as the Special Collections Librarian at the Frances Howard Goldwyn Hollywood Public Library, and centered her work in the area of TV and film history preservation--her work meant so very much to her, and that rich collection, well cared for and catalogued, was never in better hands.

It is interesting that her library work became infused with film history, because in 1995, she began what she used to call a "strange project" for a chap she met in a cocktail lounge--the fellow, it turned out, was the grandson of motion picture pioneer King Baggot, and as his family knew little about their famed ancestor, she offered to do "a little research" for him. That research grew into a groundbreaking book, King Baggot: A Biography and Filmography of the First King of the Movies, published by McFarland in 2002. Not one to rest on her laurels, she soon decided to tackle another cinema legend, Colonel William N. Selig, and his Selig Polyscope Company. She was unable to complete the book that she envisioned, but more on that in a second.

Sally often called her brand of film research "archaeology," as both professions are filled with discovery, dust, frustration and exhilaration. (Her "Selig dig," and the book that will result from it, will be completed by a few of her friends, anchored by yours truly.) This work--as those of you who practice film research well know-is very challenging, and is very much a labor of love. "I was always impressed," notes historian Kevin Brownlow, "because she tackled such difficult subjects." And it is true: I lived with Sally for two years before my 1999 marriage, and I keenly recall hearing her grunt and groan, scream and yell, and mutter the most colorful of expletive deletes, from her home office, while writing King Baggot. Often times, I would walk into her room, to find her thrashing about on the carpet, amidst photocopies of Moving Picture World articles or her handwritten notes--she'd look at me, giggle, and spout about how much easier childbirth and root canals were in comparison to the completion of the sentence she was trying to write. How many of us have felt this way in the midst of a project . . .

However devoted Sally was to her own work, what was even more impressive was her dedication and generosity to her friends. "Sally never failed," remembers film actress and author Diana Serra Cary, "in love, loyalty, in devotion to her own work, or in digging up facts for a friend and I loved her dearly." Scores of her friends echo such sentiments.

For me, personally, she gave me a home--with not a string attached--when I first moved to Los Angeles in 1997. I remember, so clearly, when I first met her--at the suggestion of Classic Images editor Bob King, no less--on the phone, back in early 1995, when she was just beginning her "Baggot Dig." I helped her locate Baggot articles in The Moving Picture World, and photocopied whatever film- and biographical-related bits I could for her. This was just the beginning of almost a dozen years of sharing Sally’s life with her--and what a lucky break for me. She grew to be one of the best friends I have ever known; she was my Matron of Honor; she was such an enthusiastic booster in my life and in my work, and accepted all my love just as freely as she gave it to me; she was, and will always be, a prime source of inspiration for me and my family, on so very many levels.

I had the high honor of initially introducing Sally to many friends in the film world, be it at the Syracuse Cinefest or the Hollywood Cinecon n those friends introduced her to more friends, and so it went down the road, until she knew more people than I did! She always told me how much richer her life was, for having met all these good people, and I know it is true: simply put, when I met her, she was a widow, a librarian, and painfully lonely. It was such a joy for me to inject her into a fresh arena of people, ideas and events. Her life was infinitely enhanced by inclusion in the cinema history world that I treasure--she hosted the most marvelous film parties for all of us, and spearheaded numerous film preservation movements--but what made it all the sweeter for her were the friendships she made and cherished along the way, with those of you who loved her. And she loved you, right back.

Sally was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002, and after treatment, was declared free of the illness. We later found out that this was not wholly true, in late Summer 2006. My 3-year-old son Matthew and I accompanied her to the doctor for healing of what we thought was sciatica in her right hip. A bone scan told a more chilling tale--bone cancer, a secondary version of her 2002 bout, which had already spread aggressively, and was incurable. My heart sank.

What I mentioned earlier, regarding generosity and dedication to friends, held stunningly true through her three-month bout. She would spend precious moments on the phone, with friends and admirers, urging them not to worry. She would repeat to me, over and over, "Kid, I need you to be brave,” and would consistently kick me out of her house, so that I could go home and be a wife and mother to Scott and Matt. She spent her last three months of life concerned about her friends and her work--much more than about herself.

On the day before she died, I spent five hours at her bedside. Too weak to speak, but definitely aware of my presence, she squeezed my hand and noticeably smiled when I assured her that I'd make sure her Selig book got finished. I feel strongly that her relief was not for herself or for her legacy, but for that of William Nicholas Selig. She cared deeply and freely, both personally and professionally, and such people don’t come along all that often.

Sally Dumaux is missed, and always will be. And I want her to be remembered, for the bright light and rare jewel that she was. I think the finest way for that to happen--for her spirit to forever endure and for her remembrance to be optimally dear--is for us to adopt her methods in life and work. By being kind, generous, enthusiastic, dedicated, honest, supportive and receptive, we will go a long way in not only bettering our world, but in duplicating the finest qualities of my wonderful friend, Sally Dumaux. “Be seeing you, dear one.”

Grace, a member of the Mabel Normand Yahoo Group, posted this at her silent films group…

”The film historian Sally Dumaux, who lost her valiant battle with cancer
on December 3, 2006, is remembered here by her best friend, Annette
D'Agostino Lloyd. This will be printed in the May issue of Classic
Images, but is up on their website now:

http://www.classicimages.com/articles/2007/03/27/current_issue/dumauxsally.txt

Sally not only wrote a wonderful book, but became a marvelous friend and
mentor to me and to many others. I will miss her always… “

(note for Annette’s mother) May she rest in peace. Here is hoping that their enough young people of my daughters and granddaughter generation to carry on the touch of love of silent movies.

On Saturday, I went to the Hollywood Heritage Museum to spend a little time with the friends of Sally Dumaux.  Those who came really thought a great deal of Sally and I thought a great deal of her also but they all had an advantage in that they were Sally's friends and I alas was just a fan of hers.

It was a learning experience for me; yes, I knew that she had been a research librarian, the author of a well respected book on King Baggot and was collecting material of a second book on Col. William Selig and his studio.  I had met Sally and shared friends and we nodded and smiled at each other when we met but although we here both working in the same field; we were plowing in parallel furrows and didn't truly overlap.  My major had been Archaeology at UCLA and she thought of her work on Selig was an archaeological dig, interesting. They were times I found a little something which might have been of interest to her but she probably already had found it, I should have called or emailed.  She was busy, perhaps I thought after she was done with her book, I would call and get to know her better. I shouldn't have waited.

When a mutual friend came to Los Angeles awhile ago researching at the Academy Library, the three of us went to dinner at one of my favorite places, the Edendale Grill.  It was one of those lovely evenings when the sun doesn't want to set so it lingers in the sky and thus we have a long twilight; so we three sat outside on the patio and talked and laughed.  Sally seemed to have a profound understanding of this stage in becoming acquainted. She was a woman of grace and easy markedly different then my awkward unskilled manner.  I was in awe of her and became a fan.  It was hard to believe but a dinner that had started at 5:30 didn't end until after 10!

Saturday, I learned that others thought her laugh was as wonderful as I had thought it was; she had been drawn to the musical theater and loved to dance and sing, oh, that was where her ease had come from. She had been widowed and was a mother as I am.  She had a box at Santa Ana as I do (I never saw her there). 

I thought there would be time ...there wasn't. So those who spoke of Sally, Saturday as her friends were lucky.

There will be a gathering to remember

Sally Dumaux.

Saturday

W January 13, 2006 X

4:30 pm

at the Heritage Hollywood Museum

2100 Highland Ave.

across from the Hollywood BOWL

At the Lasky - deMille Barn

(photo from Niles Museum website)

I remember the first time I met Sally. We had a lovely long dinner at the Edendale Grill, we talked of her search for information on William Selig, the man and his studio and she let me run on and on about my Mabel Normand.  I can‚t be counted as a close friend (I wish I could have been) but she so impressed me with her tenacity was a researcher that in many ways she was a role model for me, I respected her very much.
 
At the Heritage Museum there will be those who knew her very well and remember Sally Dumaux and some of us who wish we had known her better.  There might be a screening of a King Baggot film.  As I think you know she died before her work on Selig had been completed but she has passed it on to someone who will.  She was a fine researcher and a very nice person, the sight of the Hollywood Museum as a place for her friends to come together seems just right. She was a contributing member to the Heritage Hollywood Museum.  It was her request that rather then flowers funds be donated to the Museum in her memory; how like her to make a request like that, as it is a gift to each of us.
 
Sally Dumaux, added much to the history of Hollywood, with the publication of her wonderful biography of King Baggot back in 2002 she stepped into the center of a stage well suited to her.  It was Sally, the former librarian, who did the work creating the Hollywood branch library special collection on Hollywood which as some of you know was destroyed by fire.  Even this passed year at the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum: Broncho Billy Silent Film Festival 2006, she was there to sign her book and did a two hour program on Baggot.  In May she was at Cinevent 38 to autograph copies of King Baggot and met with friends.   
 
As a film historian she understood the need for preservation and the need for funds to do this, it was Sally that was active in raising funds to preserve the films and worked with the Fort Lee Film Commission and promoted the UCLA archives restoration of IMP film "The Time-Lock Safe" (1910) through the donation of Paramount, thank you Sally.
I will miss not getting to know you better.

Marilyn Slater
"Looking-for-Mabel"