It’s a sad moment for Gone with the Wind fans… dear Cammie King Conlon, darling Bonnie Blue Butler, passed away yesterday. You can read about it, her life, and her legacy here. Last year I had the pleasure of interviewing her prior to the Marietta Re-Premiere of GWTW. You can read that Interview here. Sadly, Cammie became ill and was unable to attend the event so she and I never had the opportunity to meet face-to-face. Everyone spoke so highly of her and her character so she was more than Bonnie. She was a wonderful human being. In tribute to her and her life, over the next few days I’ll post anecdotes from people who knew her and I’ll quote from her book Bonnie Blue Butler: A GWTW Memoir. RIP Cammie!
Cammie (left) pictured with her mother and sister
Below Cammie recalls some of her memories from GWTW:
I have a dozen or so snapshot memories of being on the set . . . My strongest memory of being on set is the heat. All of my scenes were interiors (even Bonnie’s fatal jumping scene). Each setup was lit by dozens of huge klieg lights, lights hot enough to melt the actors’ heavy makeup and certainly hot enough to make us perspire under our weighty 1860s costumes.
The other memory I have is the smell. Over the years I’ve visited several movie and TV sets, and each time, the moment I enter the sound stage, it hits me– a pungent aroma created by the heat of the lights hitting wood and metal . . . Right up there with those memories of heat and smell is the day I forgot my lines. When mother recalled the scene for me, she told me she thought I was just rebelling, being a bit bratty. She said I hadn’t really been paying attention that morning when we went over my part in the script. Every day when we arrived at the studio, Mother and I went into our trailer where she washed and set my hair and ran my lines with me.
That day, whether I really forgot them or only pretended to, what I remember is that everything on the set got very quiet. The cameras stopped, and the lights were turned off. Director Victor Fleming called “Cut” and everyone was silent. Fleming came over to me, knelt down, and looked me in the eye.
“Cammie” he said. “I have a little girl your age. The reason I come to work at the studio every day is so I can take care of her. Cammie, do you see all these men working with us?”
I looked around at the crew– all male in those days.
“Yes, Mr Fleming.”
“Well, they all have little girls and boys at home to take care of, and that’s why they come to work every day. And Cammie, when you don’t know your lines, we can’t do our jobs and take care of our children.”
I can still feel the shame. I never blew my lines again.
One day my pony forgot his lines.
