Frank Sinatra is buried not far from the Twin Palms home that he occupied from 1947 to 1957. He lived there with his first wife Nancy and their three kids, and then with Ava Gardener after he and Nancy divorced. Katie and I drove by the house and peeked at the grounds from outside the gate, and then went over to the Desert Memorial Park cemetery to have a look at Frank’s grave.
Lansing next requested the
records from the police department, but when he got the records back, everything
having to do with the incident had been redacted. Frustrated, Lansing asked his
editor to formally request the records from the Palms Springs Public Records
Department. He wanted two questions answered, who authorized the headstone
change and when did it happen? The editor received a letter back that
basically said they have the record but are not going to release it because
“the public interest served by not releasing the record clearly outweighs the
disclosure of the requested record.”
Lansing attempted to contact
Frank’s daughters, but got no reply, so he tried contacting his granddaughters.
One declined his request and the others didn’t respond. No one wanted to talk
about it “…not the cemetery, not the police, not Frank’s daughters, not his
granddaughters.”
Then out of the blue, Lansing
was contacted by a person who was “connected to the Sinatra family for over 45
years”. All this person would say was that someone took a hammer to the gravestone and tried to chip out “Husband”. Because of the damage, the gravestone
had to be replaced and “The best is yet to come” was changed to “Sleep warm
poppa”, which didn't seem appropriate for someone who was dead and buried in the cold ground. But then "The Best is yet to Come" didn't seem all that appropriate either.
In the article, Lansing
talks about the animosity between Frank’s wife Barbara and his two daughters,
Nancy and Tina. He gives several examples of the problems they had with each other.
Lansing draws on information from Tina’s book about her dad. In the book Tina says that
Frank used to always carry a roll of dimes in his pocket “so he’d never be
caught short at a pay phone.” Before Frank was buried, Tina slipped a roll of
dimes into his pocket with a note that said, “Sleep warm Poppa-look for me.”
Not only did Frank enter
eternity with dimes for a pay phone and a note from his daughter, but also
someone slipped a full bottle of Jack Daniels and a pack of Camel cigarettes into
the coffin as well. Frank was buried like King Tut, having everything he needed
for the afterlife.
Lansing quotes Tina from
the book, “While I missed my father desperately in those months, I could hear
him saying: Don’t despair honey, don’t despair. I could also hear him saying:
Don’t get mad, get even.” And that’s where Lansing left it. So, it’s still unclear
what actually happened, and I guess it will remain a closely guarded Palm Springs
secret.
Frank was one of the most
popular entertainers in the world. He had fame, fortune, many loves and a
career doing what he loved to do. As I stood over his grave in the intense summer sun, the cemetery seemed eerily quiet. No one was around except for a few workers in the distance tending the grounds. The lonely, wilted flower next to the grave, made me think how fleeting
and impermanent this life is.