Looking for Mabel Normand

 WHO IS BOB SILER ?

My name is Bob Siler.  (press Bob's name to visit his grave sites of Mabel's friends) I grew up in Burbank, California where I became interested in celebrity grave sites, home addresses and Hollywood film history. I was 13 at the time and back then, around 1973 / 74; grave hunting was looked down on and considered morbid.

   The thought of spending a day romping around a cemetery searching for some old time movie stars last stop wasn't what most people had on their "To Do" list. Tourists wanted to see Disneyland, Hollywood Blvd and where the stars lived. (Of course that has since changed. Now, they want to see where their favorite star is buried and was murdered or was arrested. Disneyland has moved down the list of tourist attractions. Tourists would rather see where Walt Disney now calls home before visiting the amusement park that bares his name. And who can blame them. Hollywood Forever is more fun to wonder around and there are no long lines to stand in.)

    Since there were few, (if any grave hunters) at the time, Forest Lawn- Glendale and Hollywood Hills, who have always been up tight and protective of their dead celebs, didn't hassle me as I strolled the grounds with my small camera, in search of famous graves, which I would then take a picture of.  To me, a celebrities grave site is apart of history. Tourists flock to Arlington National Cemetery or to the grave sites of American presidents such as Abraham Lincoln. But, to visit the grave of a film celebrity was unheard of. Only some sick

person would do that. And I'm here to tell you new comers that that was the way it was.

    In the mid 80s, not long before the celebrity grave craze became the "in" thing to do, my wife and I moved to Portland, Oregon where I continued to look for famous grave sites. The day after my daughter was born; we took her to Riverview Cemetery and took a picture of her and me at the grave of actor Donald Cook. (This is the same cemetery where Virgil Earp and Lyle Alzado are buried.) I still keep up on the latest dead celeb news, but at age 47, my days of romping through cemeteries are over. I'm too fat to climb up and down hills looking at grave stone after grave stone. I'll leave that to the younger breed.

    Like I said, when I started hunting graves, there wasn't anyone else (that I knew of) doing it, and I did it by myself and on my own. But, a couple of years later I met several people who had taken up grave hunting and we'd hook up on the weekends and make a day of it. But this wasn't the only thing we had in common. We were old film buffs and interested in film history.

      By the time I met these folks I was in my early twenties and a seasoned grave hunter, (or so I thought), and was the youngest in the group. I knew all about the major film stars from Wallace Reid to James Dean, but they taught me about the character players, who they were, where they were buried, etc. The first grave hunters that I met were Dale Crawford and Jim Sorenson.  They took me under their wing and gave me an education in researching and locating dead celebs. I knew about the major character players, like S.Z.

Sakall and Alan Hale, but Dale knew about everyone from the main stars to the un-credited players and through him I also became interested in finding out about who these people were, about their lives and careers. Like myself, he also liked doing research. One day we were trying to find where Ward Bond was buried. So, on a whim, we called information to see if Olive Carey, widow of Harry, mother of Harry Jr., was listed. To our surprise she was, and we were given her phone number. We called her and she couldn't have been nicer, though she had no idea where Ward ended up. She told us stories about husband Harry and Ward and John Wayne.  She said that maybe Harry Jr. could help us and gave us his number. We then called him, but he had no idea. We knew Ward had been cremated at Grand View in Glendale, but his whereabouts remained unknown for many years until Scott Wilson wrote to a family member for the answer. She replied that his ashes had been scattered at sea. For years it had been rumored that he was in the Great Mausoleum at Forest Lawn, Glendale or in the family plot in Nebraska. Ward Bond's was just one of many famous remains that have been lost or unable to find. Leno LaBianca and his wife Rosemary had become famous when they murdered by the Manson family in 1969. No one seemed to know where they were buried. One day Dale and I were at Calvary Cemetery in East Los Angeles. We were checking out the outside crypts when we both stopped dead in our tracks. There in front of us was the crypt of Leno LaBianca. We stood there in silence for a few minutes before taking pictures. We later learned that Rosemary had been cremated and scattered.   

    Through Dale and Jim I met Roger Sinclair. Roger knew more about film history than I could ever dream of knowing. Dale and I would search sections of a cemetery until we found who we were looking for; by Roger was a grave hunting dynamo. He'd go out to Forest Lawn, Glendale and walk entire sections, looking at each marker. He'd have a copy of "Who's Who On Screen" with him so he could check out any names that might be famous. I learned so much from these three men. They not only shared their grave locations with me, which they had worked hard at to find, as well as their knowledge on old forgotten film players. Since moving to Portland I've lost contact with Dale, Jim and Roger. I'll always be grateful to them for treating a young no it all as one of their own. I was the student and they were the teachers. Thank you for your friendship.

    One day while I was visiting with a friend at a local book store, he introduced me to a man named Quentin Rinehart, who wanted to write a book on famous grave sites. He asked me if I'd like to help him put it together. Quint, who is older than my other grave hunting pals, became my friend and a kind of father figure to me.  He's helped through some tough times over the years by letting me bend his ear. When I would ask his opinion, I got it. He never sugar coated it or told me what I might have wanted to hear.  He laid it out straight and plain and if the truth hurt, so be it. He never did this with intention of hurting my feelings or making me feel bad. I asked for an honest opinion and he gave it to me. No bull shit, no games. One day we got together at Forest Lawn, Hollywood Hills. It was hot and I was dragging my ass. He asked why I was so tired and I told him that I'd been up all night drinking and doing drugs. He stopped; looked straight in my blood shot eyes and told me that if I wanted to continue doing drugs that was my business. But, he wouldn't tolerate it and didn't want to be around me. The choice was mine: drugs or friends. I was around 22 at the time. Yes, I made a choice and it was the right one. The book never was written, but he's still my friend, and close to my wife and daughter. Thanks old sport.

    After I moved to Portland I got a letter from Scott Wilson, who lives in Indiana. He had gotten my name from author Richard Lamparski. Scott was an up and coming grave hunter and asked if I could help him find some locations. This was beginning of a beautiful friendship which continues to this day. Whatever information I gave to Scott in those early days so many years ago, is nothing compared to what he's generously given to me in the way of information, pictures, and a few great audio tapes filled with old rock and roll tunes from the 60s. When vacation time rolls around, most families pack up the car and travel to places where the usual family would go, National parks, museums, Disneyland or Disneyworld. But Scott is a true blue grave hunter and instead of visiting all the major baseball stadiums in America, he and his brood make their way from state to state, stopping at cemeteries along the way to do some hunting and picture taking. It didn't matter if it was a major, well known cemetery, like Kensico, in Valhalla, New York or a small cemetery in the middle of nowhere like Greenwood Cemetery in Greenwood, Arkansas, where character actor Arthur Hunnicutt is buried. Scott is like the Eliot Ness of grave hunters. He finds a location and hunts it own.

Over the years many books have been written that deal with famous grave locations. Most of these books have the same information and the same mistakes. One common mistake is that Anita Louise is at Westwood Memorial when she's really at Forest Lawn, Glendale. This shows that most of the authors have not done their homework and used what they found in the other books. In 2001 Scott published