In 1962 I was living in south London when the lady in the apartment above me – an ardent film fan I should say – frantically knocked on my door in the early morning with shocking news. “Marilyn’s dead!” she cried at me, with shock and sadness on her face.
Indeed, Marilyn had departed this fallen world, as will we all, going to stand before God to give an account of every thought, word, and deed we have ever thought, said or done. Scary, isn’t it? She was dead at the age of only 36. The world’s most iconic face was no more. Incidentally, if she had lived, Marilyn would be celebrating her 90th birthday this month, can you believe?
We were quickly informed by the excited slavering media that it was a drug overdose, of course, that had done the deed, and hadn’t we been expecting such a tragedy to occur anyway? Very sad, we thought, then we all moved on to other, more important matters in our lives.
I was never really a great Marilyn movie fan except for the 1953 film Niagara. I thought she had promise in her screen acting, although I never doubted that she had a natural innocent talent in stage portrayal that would have been magnified in stage classics such as Anton Chekhov’s play The Three Sisters, and that the role of Olga Prozorov would have suited her perfectly, or maybe Grushenka in The Brothers’ Karamazov. She was once asked by a sarcastic news reporter earlier in her career: “They say you want to play The Brothers’ Karamazov? She replied very innocently: “No, I don’t want to play the brothers, I want to play Grushenka.” Poor Marilyn, being misunderstood even then, it seems.
Had she lived, I suppose she would have starred in the musical Sunset Boulevardas the demented Norma Desmond. It would have been just up Marilyn’s avenue of pain and emotions (that she knew and showed so well on the screen) to reprise later in her life on the theatre stages of the world.
Yet Marilyn was destined somehow to become a “sex symbol,” something she later hated, saying: “I want to be an artist, not an erotic freak.” But I always felt that if she had played down her looks and acted up her talent, then the stage might had found a serious talent, certainly as a duplicitous Desdemona as featured in Othello. And didn’t she seem to have suffered a serious premonition about her own coming death years later, it seems? Ah, shades of demonology and witchcraft creeping in here.
They claim “all the world’s a stage and all the men and women are merely players,” wrote Shakespeare, even the grotesque trial of Jesus Christ in Jerusalem before wicked Caiaphas and the weak gestures of Pontius Pilate were all craftily stage-managed, and a travesty of justice in any country.
Aren’t we all victims of the pain and suffering of birth? And in fact, we are born in darkness and fear. Only then, that biological clock will tick down towards the ultimate destination of death through life’s journey. Sadly, few will become born-again before their last gasping breath.
Norma Jean Baker was born on June 1st 1926 in Los Angeles, California, the so-called city of the angels but more likely, inhabited by dark pagan angels in its studios, churches, and clubs.
She was the only daughter of a mentally unstable and alcoholic mother who, it seems, took spiritual comfort in the Christian Science cult. However, her grandmother would have her baptised in Aimee Semple McPherson’s abode of worship. In fact, McPherson was an early false feminist preacher, if you will.
Due to her mother’s unpredictable and dangerous behaviour, Norma Jean would be placed in a secure hospital which meant that the young girl was farmed out to over a dozen foster homes. Regarding any spiritual input offered to the little girl from these state-appointed parents, she would later remember that: “Nearly everybody I knew talked to me about God. They always warned me not to offend him.” How true, I say, but I wonder if she was ever given the gospel from a young age?
She was apparently witnessed to in later life by the late actress Jane Russell, a born-again Christian. Yet Marilyn, as she was now known, only wanted to talk about her new discovered “religion,” that of psychiatry and the deluded influence of the dangerous Doctor Freud. Sadly, many today are still under his addictive spell.
Strangely enough, after her marriage to her second husband (playwright Arthur Miller), Marilyn would convert to Judaism. I’m not sure why she did. However, she would continue to follow some of their religious practices after her divorce from him in 1961. She would be married three times, although there is some doubt about one of her marriages.
The conspiracy rumours continue to circulate even today concerning her death in 1962 in Brentwood, California. It was apparently the first home she had ever owned after years of renting; it cost her $35,000.
As Sherlock Holmes would remark to a pensive Doctor Watson and always rather impatiently: “Just give me the facts,” and these are the ones offered concerning the strange and still unsolved death of Miss Monroe. But first, what a cast of characters who entered her life from stage left and maybe departed from stage right! As someone once remarked, “Life is not a dress rehearsal, is it?” So true, because we will all give an account of ourselves one day to God, and none will be excused.
So, the suspicious cast of characters are:
The Kennedy Brothers’ Jack and Bobby, with Peter Lawford, the president’s then brother-in-law, and Milton “Mickey” Rudin, an attorney to the stars. He was also the brother-in-law of one of the doctors present the night of Marilyn’s death who bizarrely waited over two hours before informing the police; the investigating officers thought the behaviour of the doctor and his colleague was very suspicious.
The mafia orchestrated and led by Sam Giancana, with a guest appearance from Frank Sinatra, nonetheless. They always seem to leave finger or footprints at any celebrity/political mystery, like Jimmy Hoffa?
The FBI, with J. Edgar Hoover watching events eagerly unfold. He had no love for the Kennedy brothers, and as a top Washington freemason who lived on the same road as Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson, he was a strong contender (in my view) to remove Jack and put Lyndon into the White House. Kennedy had also made other enemies in the government, especially the CIA and the DOD. All would welcome his swift departure from the world stage, wouldn’t they?
Also in Marilyn’s household, but with just as important roles, were her housekeeper (Mrs Murray), her publicist, and two of her own doctors as mentioned above. Oh, and the handyman who was the housekeeper’s son-in-law. Mention should also be made of her little faithful Maltese dog known as “Maf,” short for Mafia; a gift from Mr. Sinatra, no less. More about this little chap later.
At 4 am or hours before on August 5 her doctor and housekeeper discovered Marilyn. She did not respond to the knocking on her guest bedroom door.
The housekeeper had noticed a light under Marilyn’s locked guest bedroom, although why she was there instead of in her own bedroom was a mystery. The housekeeper summoned Dr. Greenson who arrived, looked through the window, found a convenient instrument, broke the glass, saw the unclothed body of Marilyn, partly covered by a sheet, and somehow climbed into the bedroom but did not summon the police but summoned another doctor, Dr. Engleberg. Now there are two doctors at her bedside, it seems, but neither could help her.
When the police officer arrived, he was suspicious of the two doctors and of why they took so long to call for assistance for the dying woman. He was also suspicious of the housekeeper who, at 3 am, was loading bedding and sheets into the washing machine. It also seems the handyman had been called to replace the broken glass window.
By the time her body had been removed and taken to the hospital morgue, the police and paramedics were suspicious of all they had seen and heard that night.
The controversial Dr. Noguchi later performed the autopsy. He would later be involved in performing autopsies on William Holden, Natalie Wood, John Belushi, Sharon Tate, Janis Joplin, and interestingly Senator Robert F. Kennedy in 1968, after his murder in L.A. in June of that year. So, he was no stranger to celebrity autopsies. The autopsy report mentioned a scar on her abdomen, it seems, from a gallbladder operation.
One strange issue of this pending autopsy claims that she “was brought to the coroner as an un-embalmed body,” but doesn’t everybody arrive at the morgue un-embalmed? A very strange statement.
The final report stated that there were no needle marks on her and the doctor would later sign his report, indicating death by suicide. Later, he had doubts and has since called for this case to be reopened, a strange thing to be suggested by the doctor, who is still alive today at the ripe old age of 89. Perhaps he had a good point in calling for this re-examination of one of his most controversial cases.
Several books on Marilyn’s death raise some serious points that should be flagged up, such as:
If she swallowed 40 Nybatol pills, why was no trace found in her stomach? And why was no water glass seen by her bedside when the investigating officer, a Sgt. Clemmons arrived, but one mysteriously appeared later on her bedside table in a crime scene photo?
Why were two doctors there, with one of them saying to a later police officer that, “She died of an overdose,” when no final autopsy had yet been performed to determine the cause of death?
Why was her housekeeper doing washing and ironing in the middle of the night when her employer was lying dead in the next room? Did Marilyn die in her bedroom and was she later moved to the spare guest room? And had an ambulance been called hours earlier, with Marilyn being returned to her home and alive, it seems?
Why was the broken window so quickly replaced and by whom? By the handyman, by a firm of glaziers, or by government subcontractors? And if Dr. Greenson climbed through the broken window (a picture of the house exterior with the housekeeper pointing to the bedroom shows bars on it), how did he climb through them?
Why wasn’t the area sealed off as a crime scene?
Why was her publicity agent turned away from the house and seen crying, only days later to be photographed on President Kennedy’s yacht laughing and, it seems, wearing Kennedy’s favourite leather jacket. And did both the housekeeper and Peter Lawford later find refuge in the Kennedy compound at Hyannis Port? Did she later leave for Europe?
How was the housekeeper able to claim later that she saw a light still on under the locked bedroom door when the thick pile carpet would have prevented any light come through the bottom of the door? And so it goes on and on.
Who are the main suspects, therefore, in this drama, and what was their motive?
Marilyn was furious about being cast aside by the Kennedy brothers after both used her for their own lustful pleasures. She had informed a friend some days earlier: “That she had something shocking on (Jack Kennedy) that would shock the whole world.” Wow, I ask, would it be possibly Area 51 in the Nevada desert? Or more likely, his promiscuous lifestyle addictions? It was also claimed that Marilyn stopped talking on the telephone because she heard something outside her bedroom door.
Senator Robert Kennedy (seen that evening near Marilyn’s house by her neighbours with three unidentified men, one carrying a black medical case and together with Peter Lawford) was searching, it is alleged, for her personal red diary in which she confided all her thoughts and affairs. That book was never found, although some details surfaced years later. Unbeknownst to her, the house had also been electronically bugged.
Both doctors and her publicist (this lady is still alive and does not wish to talk about these events) were part of a foolish plot for Marilyn to fake her own suicide, then to be resuscitated by the doctors. This sadly failed, making three suspects who “then all had reasons to avoid telling the truth to the authorities.” In fact, Dr. Greenson and his private papers are sealed until 2039. Perhaps you could ask why so long and what’s in them? They must be disturbing to read! There is also the rumour that an ambulance was called earlier to take her to the hospital and for some reason, she was returned to her home, and maybe still alive.
In a 1985 BBC documentary, Marilyn’s housekeeper Mrs Murray stated that: “When the doctor arrived she was not dead.” She later quietly said off camera to no one in particular: “Why at my age do I still have to cover this thing.” All very strange remarks from this lady being Marilyn’s housekeeper and confidante, and maybe an FBI informant, or a paid snoop for Dr. Greenson, it has been proposed. Maybe “the loyal” housekeeper was on two payrolls. And also so many of the medical autopsy samples taken at her autopsy have gone missing, never to be seen again. Conveniently, assorted police notes and photographs have also long gone missing, probably housed in some billionaire’s gruesome private crime collection.
The mafia was guilty in colluding with an unofficial chosen government “hit team.” Yet Giancana had no respect or reverence for the Kennedys. So, was this some backroom favour he reluctantly went along with, perhaps for tax purposes? It has also been suggested in some quarters that Marilyn was with Giancana at the Cal Neva Lodge the evening of her death. Then apparently after a forced “drug-fuelled orgy” it was reported the poor woman accidentally died and was then helicoptered back to her Brentwood house. Yet the medical detailed autopsy found no internal damage to her reproductive system, “an extraordinary claim,” all the same, that has to be taken into consideration, I suggest.
More importantly, regarding a personal religion that offered lasting salvation to Marilyn, she seems to have practiced or learnt nothing in this spiritual area of her life, except to fervently worship at the fake church of Dr. Sigmund Freud and delve into his futile field of psychiatry, something that sadly did nothing for her health or happiness. Instead, she would spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in the endless analysis, seeking cures and comfort from numerous willing doctors only too happy to offer advice and later bank her endless financial cheques (checks) into their already bulging bank accounts. She would even find herself in 1961 unexpectedly incarcerated in the so-called “celebrated” Payne Whitney Psychiatric Clinic in New York. There she would be forcefully confined to a small padded room with barred windows. Marilyn was naturally terrified and begged for help that later came to her aid from her ex-husband, Joe DiMaggio, offering a personal intercession for her immediate release to the authorities. It seemed to work; she was released. But I’m not sure why her third and final husband Arthur Miller wasn’t consulted. DiMaggio had been her second husband, married to her for just a year. Maybe Joe was more sympathetic to her plight than Arthur was.
So the final theories into this tragedy of errors, it seems, should belong to Dr. Steven Karch, a notable forensic pathologist; who said in 1982:
“All it would take is for someone to open her crypt (number 24) at the Westwood Village Memorial Pk. cemetery, take a few strands of her famously bleached blonde hair, and test it for poisonous, or paralysing drugs” (very important I suggest). He was very interested in the unknown drugs found at her bedside. Apparently, the peach-coloured tablets seen in one bottle have never been identified, and he did not rule out murder. An interesting and plausible theory from the doctor.
There are so many fish swirling around in this bowl of conspiracy theories that I feel I must add one more, and perhaps a very important one that has not been examined and might just be the missing Marilyn link that leads to the truth, if it is ever to appear.
In 1961 President John F. Kennedy was the most popular and charismatic politician in America, and throughout the world in 1963 as well. Today, he is probably forgotten except for that dark day in Dallas that we all remember. Plus there is that gruesome and infamous Zapruder silent footage of the shooting (it would be publicly suppressed for many years). But I have to suggest that if the Vatican through their secret agents in the archdiocese of Los Angeles had learned that Marilyn was about to blow the whistle on what she had heard from the president in their “pillow talk” sessions, then his reputation would be destroyed. Of course, the Vatican could not allow this to ever happen, could they? And so perhaps, a skilled team of Jesuit assassins were dispatched to her hacienda home that fateful night. In the past, they have caused wars, stock market free falls, assorted killings, etc., so I propose they would never allow a so-called “over the hill” actress to topple or undermine their catholic president. Sounds far-fetched, but not necessarily! We live in strange endtimes with the awaited antichrist soon perhaps to make an appearance on the world stage. And oh boy, won’t the crowds, the politicians, the movie stars and the cosseted celebrities welcome him! In short, he will be their man, and they will all be deluded by his conceit and charm.
Marilyn was a lost soul in every possible sense of the word and probably died “unsaved” too, and without her tragically ever knowing it. She lived from day to day, and on the fatal evening of her untimely death, from hour to hour. Was she murdered? Well, I have to reply in the affirmative, but to her legion of fans she is still missed and mourned today. And at the time of drafting this article, an iconic photo taken of her in 1957 was sold today for £77,000 at Sotheby’s, so it seems the Marilyn Monroe brand lingers on with an auction of her film dresses about to raise a possible 3 million dollars!
Most of those wicked men who plotted and discarded her like a soiled tissue paper are now dead, waiting for the terrible judgment at the Great White Throne, then destined for the eternal fires of Hell. Yet in her death, she achieved immortality more than ever in her own fragile life as a working actress. And since 1961, she has played the starring role in this sordid sleazy conspiracy tale of a young girl previously named Norma Jean who once dreamed of becoming a star, then became a falling star. She never knew or understood that a terrible price had to be paid to reach the pinnacle that some foolishly call success in that celluloid cesspit that is Hollywood today, with predatory vipers that lurk in its hidden underbelly of sin and Satanism.
(There’s nothing ‘glamorous’ about death, not even for Marilyn, unless one dies in Christ)
“It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment” (Heb. 9:27).
And what happened, you might enquire, to her faithful little dog “Maf”? Ah, if only he could have talked at the time we would probably be all the wiser.
Well, after his mistress’s death, “Maf” was happily offered a new home by Frank Sinatra’s then secretary Gloria Lovell. Sadly, he was run over some years later, some say on the same day that Richard Nixon resigned as the 37th president of the United States; an unhappy end of an era for both of them.
The Assassination of Marilyn Monroe, Donald H. Wolfe
The Secret Life of Marilyn Monroe, J. Randy Taraborrelli
The New CSI, Nigel Cawthorne
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