This girl lived through World War II. She and her family had to sleep in the Underground and move from one place to another. Eventually, she became a successful actress and married a younger man.
This celebrity experienced the war, but she was too young to remember all the events that led to it. Although it interrupted her education, she grew up to be one of the most famous stars.
This public figure was born in London, England, on May 23, 1933. She is the oldest child of Elsa, who used to work as a nightclub hostess, and Joseph, who was a talent agent.
Elsa, who was British, and her husband, Joseph, from South Africa, had two more children together: Jackie in 1937 and Bill in 1946. The family lived during World War II.
They took shelter in Tube stations with other Londoners who were hiding from German bombs. This girl shared her memories of those times in May 2020.
She said she was very young when the war began and that her father had to stay in London to entertain people who remained there. She added, “But I was evacuated constantly… We were all over the place.”
The war made school difficult because her family couldn’t stay in one place. She said it was a tough time for her. Luckily, she had her mother with her and her sibling, which made things a bit easier.
She recalled sleeping in the Underground, saying, “We went to the one at Marble Arch the most. It was very friendly—people would have accordions and they’d sing.”
Who Is the Girl Who Slept in the Underground?
The girl who was evacuated is Joan Collins, an English actress known for her role in the 1981 drama series “Dynasty” alongside Linda Evans.
In an interview in October 2013, Collins said her grandmother taught her to sing, dance, and encouraged her to act. However, her father discouraged her from becoming an actress, saying she would be irrelevant by age 23. She proved him wrong.
Despite her successful career, Collins’ love life was more complicated. She was once engaged to actor Warren Beatty, and at age 26, she became pregnant with his child.
He urged her to terminate the pregnancy, saying it would hurt their careers. Although she was unsure at first, the now mother of three later agreed he was right.
Though she and Beatty never married, Collins married four times. She is now with her fifth husband, actor Percy Gibson, since February 2002.
“Percy is the most honorable man I’ve ever met,” Collins said a month after their wedding. She didn’t plan to marry again, but he changed her mind.
Percy and Joan met in 2000 in New York City while she was in a play and he was a producer. They started a passionate relationship when she was in her 60s and he was in his 30s, but the age difference never bothered them.
Today, Collins is 90 years old, and her husband Gibson is 58, making him 32 years younger than his Golden Globe Award-winning wife.
My Husband Skipped Our Baby’s Gender Reveal Appointment – It Was the Last Straw and He Deserved a Lesson
As many married couples can attest, the journey towards parenthood is one that is often envisaged as being shared equally between both partners. I held a strong conviction that my pregnancy would be a time of shared joy and responsibility with my husband. I imagined us attending each prenatal appointment together, his hand in mine, as we listened to the heartbeat of our unborn child, eagerly discussing our future with excitement and tenderness. Sadly, the reality I faced was starkly different. It became increasingly apparent that my husband was more inclined to prioritize his social life and personal interests, repeatedly sidelining our important prenatal milestones. This recurring pattern of neglect ultimately pushed me to a point where I felt compelled to teach him an unforgettable lesson.
From the moment we discovered I was pregnant, it felt as if we had stepped into a dream. For years, my husband and I had looked forward to starting a family, and now, it seemed our dreams were finally coming to fruition. The news came to us during a short romantic getaway, which felt like the universe’s way of telling us that our lives were about to change for the better. We knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but we were ready—or so I thought—to face them together.
In the early weeks, my excitement was palpable. I approached every aspect of pregnancy with a positive spirit, even the less pleasant moments like morning sickness, because I believed that having my husband’s support would make the challenges manageable. However, his lack of involvement soon became evident. It seemed he viewed the pregnancy as my sole responsibility, an ordeal I must face alone while he maintained the freedom of our pre-parenthood days.
During the first trimester, there were nights filled with discomfort and restlessness, where the cold bathroom floor became my refuge. Meanwhile, my husband slept soundly, undisturbed and seemingly oblivious to my struggles. Even a simple gesture of fetching a glass of water seemed too much to ask of him. I found myself growing resentful, feeling abandoned in what was supposed to be our shared journey. I couldn’t help but think, “If I am already doing the job of being pregnant, the least he could do was rub my feet, or help when I am dealing with the worst nausea. I mean the child is not only his when it’s born.”
Our excitement soon soured into tension and frequent arguments. I had hoped that we would at least be able to share the experience of prenatal appointments, but my husband’s attendance was sporadic. He often opted out, preferring to engage in leisure activities with his friends. His excuses were flimsy, and whenever I expressed my disappointment, he dismissed my concerns with a shrug, saying, “I’m not the one carrying the baby, why do I have to go see the doctor with you?”
The turning point came when we were scheduled to attend an appointment to learn the gender of our baby. This was a moment I had envisioned as a milestone for us as a couple, an experience that would further bond us to our child. However, at the last minute, he decided to skip the appointment to enjoy a casual meal of fish ‘n’ chips with a friend. I was devastated and furious, but I managed to keep my composure. Instead of him, my mother accompanied me, and together, we discovered that we were expecting a daughter.
Resolved to make my husband realize the significance of his absence, I planned a poignant reminder for our gender reveal party. I commissioned a cake that was outwardly ordinary, decorated with question marks. However, hidden inside was a unique twist meant to symbolize his recent choices.
At the party, surrounded by friends and family, I asked my husband to do the honors of cutting the cake. As he sliced through the cake, out poured not the traditional blue or pink hues but miniature, edible fish ‘n’ chips. The symbolism was not lost on anyone—this was the meal he had deemed more important than attending the gender reveal of his own child. The room erupted in laughter, and while the atmosphere was light, the message hit home. It was a playful yet serious reminder of what he had missed. Taking advantage of the lighthearted mood, I expressed how crucial it is for us to support each other, especially during such a transformative phase of our lives.
Following the laughter and initial surprise, I presented the real reveal—a second cake, this one intricately decorated in soft pastel colors with delicate baby footprints. Together, we cut into it, revealing a beautiful soft pink interior. The room cheered, “It’s a girl!” The joy and excitement were overwhelming, and it was clear that the message had been received.
The realization of what he had been neglecting seemed to dawn on my husband. His apology that night was heartfelt, and from that day forward, he became a more present and involved partner. He attended every subsequent appointment without fail, and his newfound commitment to our prenatal journey was unmistakable.
As we continued to prepare for the arrival of our daughter, the atmosphere in our home shifted from one of tension to one of eager anticipation. We started planning the nursery, selecting each piece of furniture with care. My husband took particular interest in building some of the furniture himself, showcasing a level of engagement that was both surprising and heartening.
The incident with the fish ‘n’ chips cake became a legendary story within our family, a humorous but poignant reminder of the importance of being present and supportive. It served not only as a lesson for my husband but also as a reminder to both of us about the significance of shared experiences and mutual support in our marriage.
Reflecting on the journey, it became clear that the challenges we faced were not merely obstacles but opportunities for growth. They strengthened our relationship, deepening our understanding and appreciation for one another. As we awaited the arrival of our daughter, we were not just preparing to be parents but also learning to be better partners to each other. This experience, though fraught with initial misunderstandings and adjustments, ultimately enriched our bond and reinforced the foundation upon which our growing family would stand.
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