I never met Olivia de Havilland, the movie actress who died recently, but I know firsthand of her kindness.
After their marriage in 1928, my parents settled in Los Gatos, Calif., a small town nestled at the foothills of the Santa Cruz mountains, 10 miles from downtown San Jose. My father had been hired to head the mathematics department at Los Gatos Union High School, teaching both math and physics.
Dad was an “old school” school teacher. Never in my life did I see him leave home for school wearing anything except a white shirt, tie and three-piece suit.
Olivia de Havilland and her sister, Joan Fontaine, were living with their mother in nearby Saratoga. Both sisters attended Los Gatos High. During the 1933-1934 school year, Olivia was a senior and Joan was a junior.
During her senior year, Olivia participated in the senior class play, and also was selected as editor of the senior class yearbook, The 1934 Wildcat.
Each year, by tradition, the yearbook’s staff selected a teacher to whom the book would be dedicated, a teacher thought to have made a special contribution to students of that year’s class. The teacher selected in 1934 was my father, Willard F. Burke. I suppose it helped that Olivia had been one of my dad’s math students.
Over the following years, Olivia de Havilland usually remembered my parents at Christmas with a lovely card and personal note. When “Gone with the Wind” was showing at the local Los Gatos Theater, I believe my parents saw it twice, just to enjoy Olivia’s performance.
Olivia’s Christmas cards continued after World War II, often coming from Paris. Since I was a stamp collector at age 12, I was given the envelopes. She always hand-addressed the envelopes and hand-wrote her return home address.
In 1945, my father was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had to give up teaching. But when Olivia won her first Academy Award for her performance in “To Each His Own” (1946), my father was determined to write and offer her his congratulations, which he did. And he mentioned that he had retired from teaching due to his illness.
Olivia’s Christmas card arrived as usual that year (from Paris, I think), but when my mother opened it, her eyes filled with tears. Enclosed was Olivia’s personal check for $300 with a warm note, hoping that it might make our Christmas more enjoyable. This was a large sum of money at the time, especially to my mother, who had been working two jobs to make ends meet.
After my father’s death in June 1947, my mother, who was a licensed teacher herself, was offered her own position teaching home economics at Los Gatos High. After discussion with my mother, I composed a short note to Olivia myself.
I thanked her for her thoughtfulness to my parents over the years. I told her of my father’s passing, and of my mother’s new position, and that no reply to my letter was expected. I just wanted her to know that the letter of congratulations my Dad had sent her on the occasion of her Oscar was the last letter Dad was able to write.
Rest in peace, Olivia de Havilland. What a classy lady!
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