In 1973, Kirk Douglas starred in and directed the movie Scalawag. In the movie, he portrayed a peg legged pirate searching for buried treasure. The film wasn’t a critical success but, at 15-yrs young, I remember enjoying it.
My dad had won a pair of tickets to the Hamilton premiere of Scalawag plus an upscale meet-and-greet at the Hamilton Club: The latter gave my mother a chance to shake hands with the legendary movie actor and bring me back Mr. Douglas’ signature in my autograph book that she’d taken in her purse.
The next day with our parent’s approval, my younger brother David and I took a bus downtown to a matinee showing of G-rated Scalawag. I remember being enamoured of teen co-star Mark Lester, a favourite at the time. My brother, on the other hand, came away from the movie completely taken with the 11-yr-old-boy version of eye-candy – Pirate Peg’s peg leg.
David, you see, was the proud owner of a G. I. Joe doll, unfortunately afflicted with a missing lower right leg. The movie pirate portrayed by Kirk Douglas and the broken toy at home meshed together in the young boy’s brain and a DIY project was about to take shape.
David found a suitable piece of wood and carved it into the shape of a peg leg. He then enlisted my sewing and design skills to fashion leather-like strapping with which the leg could be secured to the doll. Upholstery tacks affixed the leather to the carved wood, and a mini peg leg was created.
Immensely pleased with the final project, our dad suggested that we send a picture of the doll wearing his peg leg to Mr. Douglas. After much thought and discussion, we opted to do more than send a photo: We constructed a second peg leg, and sent it in a small box with a Polaroid photo and a note, addressed simply to: Mr. Kirk Douglas, Hollywood California.
Amazingly, more than six months later, I received an envelope in the mail from Mr. Douglas. In the letter, on official Kirk Douglas stationary, he thanked me for the peg leg, apologized for taking so long to reply to our letter - he had been filming movies in Europe - said he hoped David’s doll wasn’t as uncomfortable wearing the leg as he had been wearing the peg leg in the movie, and sent his regards to my brother.
It was and still is, a delightful letter! I've kept the note, personally signed in black ink by Mr. Douglas, and the envelope all these years - They’re treasured keepsakes.
I’m still amazed that a busy film actor, director and family man from California would take the time to respond to an unsolicited gift from youngsters far away in Canada.
It may sound silly, but I occasionally wonder if Mr. Douglas might still have the peg leg we sent him more than 40 years ago, perhaps sitting in it’s box on a shelf in his office: As I never imagined Mr. Douglas would actually answer our letter as he did, I guess anything's possible.
Although my brother unfortunately passed away many years ago, his G. I. Joe is with us still and wears his peg leg to this day.
This heartfelt story is posted today in honour of Mr. Douglas’ 100th Birthday. I wish him sincere best wishes on this momentous occasion, and thank him for making such a positive and long-lasting impression on two grateful young people.
