BEFORE THERE WAS JULIE LONDON, there was Nancy Gayle Peck. Born amid the economic prosperity of the 1920s, her fortunes would change as a child of the devastating Great Depression that followed.
Her story begins in Stockton, California, a bustling city of more than forty thousand along the San Joaquin River, a major trade route that brought the agricultural products of the stateâs fertile Central Valley to its economic and trade center in San Francisco. The band at a local vaudeville performance was playing âIt Had to Be You,â a popular romantic ballad. In the audience that day was a twenty-five-year-old California-born salesman named Jack Peck and twenty-year-old Josephine âJoâ Taylor, originally from Indiana but a recent arrivalâwith her mother and stepfatherâfrom Arkansas. The pair locked eyes across the crowded room, quickly bonded over their shared love of music, and fell in love. On November 14, 1925, the couple was married by a Stockton justice of the peace and began their new life together.
The first Pecks arrived on the shores of Virginia from England in the eighteenth century. Some drifted north in search of arable land, settling and tilling the soil in the northeastern section of what became the state of Ohio. A descendant of one of these adventurous souls was Jack Peckâs grandfather Sedley, a man âquick to take advantage of all offered opportunities.â When gold was discovered in California in the late 1840s, Sedley became a wagon master, leading arduous journeys west to become one of the âfirst of the â49ers to stake a claimâ there. Sedley Peckâs adventures became part of the stories he told his family, tales that lured all eight of his children to the promised land of the Golden State by the last decade of the nineteenth century.
For more than twenty years after his arrival in California, Sedleyâs son Wallace eked out a hardscrabble existence as a miner in a series of inhospitable Southern California desert boomtowns with evocative names like Calico, Havilah, Isabella, Panamint, and Ballarat, which popped up and just as quickly disappeared in the wake of significant silver and gold discoveries in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
While Wallace Peck struggled, his brothers prospered as cement contractors, laying down building foundations, streets, and sidewalks throughout burgeoning Southern and Central California, becoming pioneers and leading citizens in the city of Compton. Their success lured Wallace from the mines to Los Angeles, where he joined the family business. Within a few years, his own financial gains allowed him to move his wife, Elizabeth, and their three children to a ten-acre ranch in the newly laid-out San Fernando Valley town of Van Nuys.
Much like Sedley Peck, however, Wallace cherished dreams, and in 1913 he traded the Van Nuys property for land one hundred miles north, on the Cottonwood Ranch, south of Bakersfield in Kern County, hoping to strike it rich as a farmer. It was a costly deal. He quickly discovered that most of the land was worthless alkaline soil and filed a lawsuit to recover his losses. Weakened by a bout of pleurisy, Wallace fell ill again after returning to Kern County from Los Angeles over the snowy Tehachapi Mountains and died of pneumococcal meningitis at the age of fifty-two in December 1914.
Wallace had been a baritone soloist in the local Methodist church, and his son, handsome and blue-eyed Jack Peck, had inherited his fatherâs fine voice as well as a ânatural ability in salesmanshipâ from his mother, Elizabeth. After a hitch in the navy during the First World War, Jack returned to Bakersfield, where he married briefly, found employment at a department store and in the local oil industry, and led a second life as a vaudeville performer.
By the time he and Jo Taylor met in 1925, Jack had followed his dreams further north to the Stockton portrait photography studio of Fred Hartsook, part of a successful chain scattered throughout California. When Jo became pregnant, Jack opted for a better position as a photographer in the Hartsook branch in Santa Rosa, fifty miles north of San Francisco. Ten months after their wedding, the Pecksâ only child was born at a local maternity home at six oâclock on the evening of September 26, 1926. The familyâs stay in Santa Rosa with their daughter, whom they named Nancy Gayle, was short lived. (Nine years later, the name Julie Peck was added to the birth record, presumably for legal reasons when âJulie Londonâ began her acting career.) By the end of the year, the Pecks had moved south to the city of San Bernardino, where Joâs mother and stepfather lived and where Jack quickly found a position at another photography studio.
Gayle (the family quickly stopped calling her Nancy) naturally became a frequent subject for her parentsâ cameras. Whether as a chubby-cheeked toddler posed in a wicker chair in Jackâs studio, her head covered with a bonnet or with ribbons in her hair, or outdoors as a smiling, curly-haired little girl, dressed in a jaunty cowboy outfit while seated on a pony, she was very feminine and unguarded.
Summers were often spent with Jackâs sister Ethel and her family on picnics and trips to the mountains above San Bernardino or in the warmth and fun of beach towns along the California coast. Gayleâs older cousin Jeanne remembered how Jack Peck held his tired daughter in his lap at the end of the day, telling her impromptu âmarvelous, hilarious bedtime storiesâ populated by fantastical animals.
What mattered most in young Gayleâs life was the music that surrounded her parents. The musical genes of the Peck and Taylor families were strong: one of Joâs cousins was the songwriter, vaudeville performer, and music publisher (William) Tell Taylor, composer of the 1910 popular standard âDown by the Old Mill Stream.â So as Gayle listened to records or watched as her mother and her friends sang in four- and five-part harmony while sitting on their living room floor, she absorbed the music through her pores. For three years during her childhood, Jack and Jo Peck hosted an informal radio show on San Bernardino station KFXM (âThe Voice of the Sunkist Valleyâ), broadcast from street-level studios in the elegant California Hotel. While her parents were on the air, Gayle spent most of her time in the restaurant next to the station, eating green peas served to her by a friendly waitress. Occasionally, she would be invited into the studio, and it was here, at the age of three and a half, that she made her public singing debut with an imitation of Marlene Dietrichâs German accent in a performance of the iconic âFalling in Love Again.â
âOur whole family kind of leaned toward jazz,â Julie recalled, and her motherâs bluesy voice could often be heard in San Bernardinoâarea nightclubs and theaters, where she sang to supplement the familyâs income. âIn those days, there were no such things as babysitters, so if my mother worked in a club, I went along and slept in the checkroom, under the coats. But I didnât sleep. Iâd listen to the music.â By the time Gayle turned nine, her voice was distinctive enough to amaze talent scouts auditioning participants for a statewide radio contest. She didnât make the cut, but her mother sang âI Canât Give You Anything but Loveâ in a live âSalute to San Bernardinoâ broadcast on radio station KHJ from a theater in downtown Los Angeles. Although Joâs performance caught the ear of actor Conrad Nagel, the programâs emcee, she failed to pick up the $500 first prize.
The first half of the 1920s had been a golden age for San Bernardino. Its agricultural output, particularly the vast orange groves that covered much of the cityâs acreage, and the establishment of Route 66, which ran directly through the city on its way to the Pacific coast, led to a 200Â percent population increase during the decade. But San Bernardino, like the rest of the United States, was hit hard by the Great Depression. âIt was pretty much a lost decade,â wrote one local historian.
The economic struggles of the Peck family during the 1930s meant frequent changes of address, and Jackâs mother occasionally became the fourth member of a household that was devastated when he lost his job at the Platt photography studio. As Jackâs failure to find work continued, he became discouraged with himself and his future. His disappointment was reflected in changes in Gayleâs physical appearance. The open-faced, smiling child of early photographs became the young girl who sometimes turned her face away from her fatherâs camera with a clearly troubled mien. âThere wasnât anythingâ for a while, but she insisted she didnât suffer; though her parents sometimes didnât eat, âthey made sureâ she did.
By the late 1930s, the local economy had rebounded under the programs of President Franklin Delano Rooseveltâs New Deal, subdivisions began to replace many of San Bernardinoâs orchards and crop lands, and the impending war in Europe bolstered the regionâs manufacturing and industrial concerns. Jack Peckâs self-confidence and the family finances rebounded when he was hired as a salesman for the Simon Levi Co., a large Southern California wholesale grocery and liquor distributor. He remained with Levi, moving up the ranks to become a sales and credit manager, until the familyâs departure for Los Angeles a few years later. The proximity to liquor, however, aggravated Jackâs tendency toward alcoholism, an affliction that probably began during his naval service; on at least one occasion during the 1930s, he was arrested for public drunkenness and reckless driving.
Gradually, life improved for the Pecks, and by the end of the decade, Jackâs salary and the value of the San Bernardino house he had purchased were comparable to, if not higher than, those of many of his neighbors.
Gayle Peck spent much of her childhood surrounded by the musicians who congregated around her parents. This early isolation left her with a feeling of discomfort around her peers, and her years in San Bernardino were not particularly happy ones for an introverted girl who often lived in a world of her own making. âPeople thought my mother was a snob,â said her daughter Lisa. âShe was shy.â Gayle had few friends, but Caroline Stagg remained loyal from the day they met in elementary school. To Caroline, who knew Gayle better than anyone, she was âa gentle, quiet girl without much self-confidence.â On weekends Gayleâs parents drove the girls to dances at the San Bernardino Auditorium or in the mountains near Crestline, but her parents never worried about her and boys. âI wasnât what youâd call madly popular. I was sort of old for my age and didnât fit.â
When given the opportunity to perform, however, she came out of her shell to become more than the typical girl next door. Gayle sang in front of local big bands, was chosen as a candidate for her schoolâs Mardi Gras queen, and often appeared on the radio. San Bernardino was a popular spot for advance screenings of new movies, and Gayle became part of the onstage entertainment at local theaters on Saturdays before the lights dimmed and the projector started. Her repertoire spanned popular ballads like the First World Warâera âThereâs a Long, Long Trail A-winding,â Irving Berlinâs âGod Bless America,â and hits of the day such as âBy the Waters of Minnetonkaâ and âAll Ashore.â It was good teenage fun but not the makings of a career.
FRUSTRATED AND MISERABLE as she advanced through Arrowview Junior High School, Gayleâs restlessness continued when the family moved to Los Angeles in 1941. After developing a severe case of hives, doctors put her âon every special diet known to man,â without providing any visible relief for the incessant itching and swelling. When a specialist recognized the symptoms as potentially psychological and made the radical suggestion to keep Gayle out of school, the hives quickly disappeared. Emboldened by the solution to one problem, the fifteen-year-old asked her parents if she might leave school permanently. They agreed, but on one condition: Gayle had to prove she wouldnât be a financial burden.
The Pecks lived in a tiny, one-room apartment at the Marathon Arms, a nondescript three-story building in East Hollywood, located a few blocks from the campus of Los Angeles City College. The thirty units of the Marathon Arms were occupied by other solidly lower-middle-class Angelenos: telephone operators, bookkeepers, salesmen. One of their neighbors was Dorothy LaPointe, a twenty-year-old elevator operator at Roos Bros., an upscale clothing store on Hollywood Boulevard. Dorothy suggested that Gayleâs looksâeven though she was still a teenagerâwould make her a natural fill-in while she went on vacation.
If contemporary photographs are any indication, itâs not surprising that Gayle Peck was able to fool people into thinking she was significantly older. The gawky child of the 1930s, who gazed abstractedly away from the cameraâs lens, had undergone a remarkable transformation. The skinny waif had blossomed into a curvaceous fifteen-year-old who was well aware of the good looks she had inherited from her parents. She got the elevator operator job by telling the hiring manager she was nineteen, yet it still took the paychecks of all three members of the Peck family to âput food on the table and pay the bills.â
Her looks soon caught the attention of another pair of eyes. The circumstances of her first encounter with Jack Webb are best described by his biographers:
One 1941 evening when Jack was living with [his friend] Gus and [his grandmother] Gram on Marathon Street, the two young men decided to visit a malt shop on the opposite side of Vermont Avenue. On their way they approached two girls talking in front of a large apartment house.
(No exact citation is given for this specific sequence of events, but it appears at least as plausible as other published versions...