John Barrymore came from a long line of theater actors. He himself first appeared on stage alongside his father in 1900, and in 1903 officially began his career, starring in the likes of Justice (1916) and Richard III (1920). His greatest role was his 1992 appearance in Hamlet, for which he was dubbed “the greatest living American tragedian.”
Barrymore also starred in a slew of silent films, most notably Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920), Sherlock Holmes (1922) and Beau Brummel (1924). He later made the transition to sound movies, starring in the likes of Grand Hotel (1932) and Midnight (1939).
On May 29, 1942, Barrymore died at the age of 60 from pneumonia and cirrhosis. What happened next has been the subject of many rumors. It’s alleged his friends, Errol Flynn, W.C. Fields and Sadakichi Hartmann snuck into the morgue where his body was being held, propped him up against a poker table and allowed him to experience one final celebration.
As it turns out, these rumors are true! In an August 2020 episode of the popular YouTube series Hot Ones, the acting legend’s granddaughter, Drew Barrymore, revealed his corpse had actually been stolen.
“Not only yes, but there have been cinematic interpretations of it,” she exclaimed. Those interpretations include S.O.B., starring Julie Andrews, and allegedly the 1989 comedy Weekend at Bernie’s, in which two friends pretend their deceased boss is alive.
Barrymore added that she wants the same to happen to her. “I will say this, I hope my friends do the same for me. That is the kind of spirit I can get behind. Just prop the old bag up, let’s have a few rounds.

“I think death comes with so much morose sadness and I understand that, but if it’s okay, just for me, if everybody could be really happy and celebratory and have a party, that would be my preference.”
Vintage Hollywood certainly was a different era…
My Son’s Boyfriend Dresses My Granddaughter Inappropriately. Here’s What I Did About It.

I drove up to my son’s new house early Saturday morning, looking forward to a day with my granddaughter, Trisha. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the quiet neighborhood. As I pulled up to the driveway, I saw Trisha waiting on the porch, and my heart leapt with joy. But as she came into full view, my joy turned to shock. My eight-year-old granddaughter was dressed in an outfit more suited for a teenager heading to a rave than a young child.
She wore a crop top, mini skirt, and chunky boots, with her hair dyed a bright, unnatural shade of pink. I could barely recognize the sweet girl I used to tuck into bed every night. My son’s new partner, Sonya, stood behind her, looking entirely unbothered.

“Good morning, Grandma!” Trisha chirped, running up to hug me.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I replied, my voice catching in my throat. “What are you wearing?”
Before Trisha could answer, Sonya stepped forward. “It’s the latest fashion, Janet. Kids express themselves through their clothing these days. You wouldn’t understand.”
The Rift in the Family
The loss of my daughter-in-law had been devastating for our family. My son, Mark, had been inconsolable for months. In his grief, he had asked me to move in with him and help take care of Trisha. We had formed a close-knit unit, helping each other heal. But then, Sonya appeared.
At first, I was hopeful. Mark deserved happiness, and if Sonya could provide that, I would support their relationship. But it quickly became apparent that she was not a good influence. She encouraged Mark to work less and party more, leaving Trisha in her care far too often.
When Mark decided to move in with Sonya, I was left in his house, relegated to seeing Trisha only on weekends. It felt as though my entire life had been upended by this woman who didn’t seem to care about the family she was disrupting.
A Day of Reflection
After the initial shock, I decided to go on with the day as planned. We went to the park, had lunch at her favorite restaurant, and visited the zoo. But throughout the day, I couldn’t shake the image of Trisha’s outfit and Sonya’s dismissive attitude.
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