One school held that we had no business raking up old mud to throw, that such things were better left forgotten and forgiven, that nothing wrong had ever happened, and if it had, we were liars anyway.
The other school reasoned more to our liking.
Softly and slowly at first, then with a triumphant shout, this fact began to emerge; such things had actually happened, and could happen again, were possibly happening even now; had happened because twisted truth had too long left its imprint on international, sectional, and racial feelings.
It pleased us when many began to agree, with us, that it is important to forget the past, but that it is even more important to understand and evaluate it with a generous and unjaundiced eye.
That was what we were trying to bring out.
The banning that occurred in the various states hurt the gross receipts only a little, and we were vindicated in Johnson’s mind.
He had dolefully predicted loss of half the national gross because “you can’t tell the truth in a movie and get away with it.
Not if the house holds over three hundred.”
Not even on the stage?
“Who goes to anything but a movie?”
So far things had gone just about as we’d planned.
We’d earned and received more publicity, favorable and otherwise, than anyone living.
Most of it stemmed from the fact that our doing had been newsworthy.
Some, naturally, had been the ninety-day-wonder material that fills a thirsty newspaper.
We had been very careful to make our enemies in the strata that can afford to fight back.
Remember the old saw about knowing a man by the enemies he makes?
Well, publicity was our ax.
Here’s how we put an edge on it.
I called Johnson in Hollywood.
He was glad to hear from us.
“Long time no see.
What’s the pitch, Ed?”
“I want some lip readers.
And I want them yesterday, like you tell your boys.”
“Lip readers?
Are you nuts?
What do you want with lip readers?”
“Never mind why.
I want lip readers.
Can you get them?”
“How should I know?
What do you want them for?”
“I said, can you get them?”
He was doubtful. “I think you’ve been working too hard.”
“Look—”
“Now, I didn’t say I couldn’t.
Cool off.
When do you want them? And how many?”
“Better write this down.
Ready?
I want lip readers from these languages: English, French, German, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Greek, Belgian, Dutch and Spanish.”
“Ed Lefko, have you gone crazy?”
I guess it didn’t sound very sensible, at that.
“Maybe I have.
But those languages are essential.
If you run across any who can work in any other language, hang on to them.
I might need them, too.”
I could see him sitting in front of his telephone, wagging his head like mad. Crazy. The heat must have got Lefko, good old Ed.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, I heard you.