Ali MacGraw became a Hollywood superstar overnight. But just as quickly as she rose to fame, she disappeared from show business altogether.
Today, the 84-year-old actress has settled down in a remote and tiny town, and she’s aging gracefully with her grey hair.
Ali MacGraw
Ali MacGraw – born Elizabeth Alice MacGraw – was born on April 1, 1939, in Pound Ridge, New York, USA. Her mother, Frances, was an artist and worked at a school in Paris, later settling in Greenwich Village. She married Richard MacGraw, who was also an artist. In 1939, Ali was born.
Ali’s father Richard supposedly had issues from his own childhood which made him a little bit different from others.
He had survived a terrible childhood in an orphanage, running away at the age of 16 to go to sea. He would later study at an art school in Munich, Germany.
“Daddy was frightened and really, really angry. He never forgave his real parents for giving him up,” Ali explained, saying said her father’s adult life was spent “suppressing the rage that covered all his hurt.”
Ali MacGraw – childhood
Money was short for their family, too. Frances and Richard, together with Ali and her brother, Richard Jr, had to move into a house on a Pound Ridge wilderness preserve which they shared with an elderly couple.
“There were no doors; we shared the kitchen and bathroom with them,” Ali said. “It was utter lack of privacy. It was horrible.”
Mom Francis worked with several commercial-art assignments and supported the family. At the same time, Richard had a hard time selling his paintings, and as a result became very frustrated. Ali’s brother Richard became a victim for his anger at home.
“On good days he was great, but on bad days he was horrendous,” she recalled. “Daddy would beat my brother up, badly. I was witness to it, and it was terrible.”
Ali was the daughter of artists, and she knew that she, too, wanted to go into a creative line of work as she got older. She earned a scholarship at the prep school Rosemary Hall, and in 1956, she moved to study at Wellesley College in Massachusetts.
By the age of 22, Ali MacGraw moved to New York and got her first job as an assistant editor at Harper’s Bazaar, working with photographers as an assistant.
Fashion work in New York
Fashion editor Diana Vreeland hired Ali as, what she recalls as, a “flunkie”. Ever seen the film The Devil Wears Prada? Well, it was pretty much that.
“It was ‘Girl! Get me a pencil!’,” MacGraw recalled.
The future Hollywood celebrity worked her job as an assistant for several months. Then, about six months in, fashion photographer Melvin Sokolsky noticed her beautiful looks, and Ali MacGraw was hired as a stylist,and given a better salary. She’d end up staying in that position for six years.
“I don’t know where she got this work ethic, but Ali would come in at eight a.m., and many times I’d come back at one in the morning and she would still be doing things for the next day,” Ruth Ansel, a former art director of Vanity Fair and Harper’s Bazaar recalls.
Ali was great as a stylist. But soon, she was asked to work in front of the cameras as a model. It didn’t take long before she was on magazine covers all over the world, even appearing in television commercials. For thing led to another, and Ali tumbled headfirst into the profession of acting.
She had been sketched nude by Salvador Dali a couple of years earlier. But when the surrealist artist started sucking her toes, MacGraw decided that she’d rather be an actress than a model.
Ali MacGraw – films
Ali went straight from an unknown stylist and into the world of cinema, and boy, did she do it with a bang.
She was untutored in the art of film, which gave her acting another dimension. Her natural beauty was stunning, and the audience loved her.
Following a small role in A Lovely Way to Die (1968), she was asked to star in the 1969 film Goodbye, Columbus. It turned out to be a great call, with MacGraw receiving a Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer – Female. The following year, she got her big international breakthrough with a role that would pretty much sum up her career.
Ali MacGraw had received a script from her agent. She’d read it and wept twice because of how much she loved it. She decided she really wanted a part in it, and got herself a meeting with the film’s producer Robert Evans – who at the time was Paramount Picture’s head of production – at the Beverly Hills Hotel’s Polo Lounge. Not only did Evans think she was perfect for the part in the movie Love Story, he absolutely fell in love with her.
MacGraw – playing the role of Jenny – acted alongside Ryan O’Neal in the movie Love Story. The American romantic drama film, in which Ali played a working-class college student, became a smash hit.
Love Story hit the cinemas in 1970, and wow did the audience cherish it. It became the No. 1 film in the United States, and at the time, it was the sixth highest grossing movie in history in the US and Canada.
Award-winning actress
MacGraw earned an Academy Award nomination for her role, and the film itself earned her another win and five Academy Award Nominations. She also won herself a second Golden Globe as Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama.
Film producer Robert Evans not only loved her on screen, he had fallen in love with her in real life, and that love was reciprocated. In 1969, the couple tied the knot, and two years later, they welcomed their son, Josh Evans.
Ali MacGraw was the hot new star of the 1970s, but her private life and marriage with Evans would soon come to an end. Steve McQueen had visited their home to ask her to star alongside him in The Getaway, and the two Hollywood stars clicked right away.
“I looked in those blue eyes, and my knees started knocking,” MacGraw recalled. “I became obsessed.”
MacGraw and McQueen had an affair, and she soon left Evans to live with the actor in Malibu, along with her son Josh.
“Steve was this very original, principled guy who didn’t seem to be part of the system, and I loved that,” she said.
Ali MacGraw – Steve McQueen
But after a while, Ali realized that Steve McQueen had his own problems. Following his father abandoning his mother, a then-14-year-old Steve was sent to a school for delinquent children. MacGraw said he never trusted women after that.
(Photo by Silver Screen Collection/Getty Images)
He didn’t like that she worked and had her own career. For a while, Ali stayed home to raise their sons. But her husband’s demands were something Ali simply couldn’t accept in the long run.
Not only that, but he’d explode if she even looked at another man. He also wanted her to sign a prenuptial agreement, promising not to ask for anything if they’d divorce. She abided by the agreement when they did divorce in 1978.
“I couldn’t even go to art class because Steve expected his ‘old lady’ to be there every night with dinner on the table,” she recalled.
“Steve’s idea of hot was not me. He liked blond bimbos, and they were always around.”
This was the start of a pretty dark time in MacGraw’s life. She arrived on set to shoot the 1978 film Convoy both drunk and high, which prompted her to quit drugs.
Entitled Neighbor Built a Garage in My Garden – I Showed Him Why You Shouldn’t Mess With a Single Mother
My new start turned into a nightmare when my neighbor, Mr. Johnson, brazenly built a garage on my property. With the help of determined friends and a few sledgehammers, I decided to reclaim my garden and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t forget.
My name is Cynthia. I’m 42 years old and a single mother with two children. A few months ago, we moved into a new house with a lovely garden. It was supposed to be a fresh start for us. Little did I know, trouble was waiting next door.
Middle-aged woman playing with her children | Source: Midjourney
On the first day, as we unpacked boxes, our neighbor, Mr. Johnson, came over. He was a tall, burly man with a gruff voice.
“Hello, I’m Mr. Johnson,” he said without a smile. “I’ve got plans to build a garage, and half of it will be on your land. The previous owner agreed.”
I was taken aback. “I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson, but I’m the new owner, and I don’t give my consent,” I replied firmly.
A middle-aged man | Source: Pexels
Mr. Johnson’s face turned red. “You don’t understand. It’s already agreed upon. I have documents.”
“I understand perfectly,” I said, standing my ground. “But this is my property now, and I won’t allow it.”
Over the next few days, Mr. Johnson came over multiple times, documents in hand, trying to convince me. Each time, I said no.
A middle-aged man with the documents | Source: Midjourney
One weekend, I took my children to visit my mother. We spent a lovely time with her, enjoying the change of scenery and catching up. My mother lives a couple of hours away, so it was a nice break for all of us.
When we returned, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There, in our garden, was a fully built garage. It took up almost the entire space.
“How could he?” I gasped. My children looked up at me with wide eyes.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“Mom, what are we going to do?” my daughter asked, her voice tinged with worry.
“We’ll handle this,” I said, my resolve hardening. I thought about writing to a lawyer but decided to take matters into my own hands first.
I walked around the garage, inspecting every inch. It was solidly built, but it had no place in my garden. My frustration grew with each step.
A white garage with a car | Source: Pexels
I sat down with my kids and explained the situation. “We need to make sure we get our garden back. It’s not fair for someone to take what’s ours.”
My son looked up at me with determination. “We can do it, Mom!”
That night, I called a few friends. They were more than willing to help dismantle the unauthorized garage.
Middle-aged woman calling her friends | Source: Midjourney
“Are you sure about this, Cynthia?” my friend Lisa asked over the phone.
“Yes, Lisa. He crossed the line. We have to do this,” I replied.
I also called Mark, a strong and handy friend, and Jess, who was always up for a challenge. They both agreed to help without hesitation.
A ripped man talking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Count me in, Cynthia,” Mark said. “This guy needs to learn a lesson.”
“I’ll bring the tools,” Jess added. “We’ll take it apart piece by piece.”
We spent some time planning. We needed to be careful not to damage any of my property while dismantling the garage. We decided on a step-by-step approach, ensuring that every piece was removed methodically.
Planning the perfect plan | Source: Midjourney
We gathered at my house just as darkness fell, armed with sledgehammers, crowbars, and flashlights. My friends, Lisa, Mark, and Jess, were ready to help me reclaim my garden. The air was thick with anticipation.
“Ready?” I asked, gripping my crowbar tightly.
“Ready,” Lisa replied with a determined nod.
Determined middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney
We moved silently into the garden. The garage loomed before us, a symbol of Mr. Johnson’s audacity. We set to work, our movements careful and deliberate. Each removal of a nail or plank felt like a step toward justice.
“Start with the roof,” Mark suggested, his voice barely a whisper. “It’ll be easier to take apart the walls once that’s off.”
Jess climbed up a ladder and began to gently pry off shingles. “This is for your garden, Cynthia,” she said.
A woman near a ladder | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks, Jess. Let’s keep at it,” I encouraged, carefully removing a panel.
The hours passed quietly. We worked in sync, fueled by a shared sense of righting a wrong. The physical effort was exhausting, but it felt empowering. We whispered words of encouragement to each other, the night providing a cloak of secrecy.
Lisa handed me a board she’d removed. “Here, stack this neatly. We don’t want to damage anything.”
A woman holding a board | Source: Midjourney
“Got it,” I said, placing it on the growing pile.
By dawn, the garage was nothing but a pile of neatly stacked rubble. We stood back, panting and sweaty, but deeply satisfied.
“Well done, team,” Mark said, giving me a pat on the back.
“Thank you all. I couldn’t have done this without you,” I replied, grateful for their support.
A part of the materials stacked on the driveway | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Mr. Johnson stormed over. His face was red with fury. “What have you done?” he bellowed. “This is vandalism! Trespassing! You’ll pay for this!”
I remained calm, standing my ground. “Mr. Johnson, you built on my land without permission. I have documented everything, including photos and videos of your illegal construction and our careful dismantling.”
“You… you can’t do this!” he sputtered, eyes wide with anger.
An angry middle-aged man | Source: Pexels
“I already did,” I said, pointing to the clear boundary markers. “You ignored these.”
Mr. Johnson’s bluster faded as he saw the evidence and my unwavering resolve. He muttered something under his breath and retreated to his house, slamming the door behind him.
Despite our victory, I knew the situation wasn’t entirely resolved. I decided to consult a lawyer to ensure all my actions were within legal bounds and to explore any additional steps I could take.
A lawyer viewing papers | Source: Pexels
The lawyer confirmed that I was in the right. My documentation and photos provided solid evidence. Knowing this gave me peace of mind. I felt confident that if Mr. Johnson persisted, I had the law on my side.
In the following days, I noticed a change in Mr. Johnson. His confrontational visits dwindled. He seemed quieter, less aggressive. One day, to my surprise, he came over, looking apologetic.
An apologetic middle-aged man | Source: Pexels
“Cynthia, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “The previous owner gave me verbal permission, but I should have respected your ownership.”
I was taken aback. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I appreciate your apology.”
“I’d like to make things right,” he continued. “I’ll rebuild the garage entirely on my property. And if you need any help with repairs around your house, I’m here to assist.”
An apologetic middle-aged man | Source: Midjourney
We reached an agreement. It wasn’t an immediate friendship, but it was a start to a more civil relationship. I had reclaimed my garden and gained a measure of respect from Mr. Johnson.
As the days went by, we began to exchange pleasantries. He even helped me fix a few things around the house. The experience taught me a valuable lesson in standing up for myself and my rights.
A happy woman | Source: Pexels
Reflecting on the ordeal, I felt proud of how I handled the situation. I didn’t just get my garden back; I gained respect and a better understanding of my own strength and resilience. I knew that, no matter what, I could stand up for what was right.
Sweet Lady Feeds Local Kids for Free – When a Neighbor Tried to Kick Her Out, the Unbelievable Happened
Kind Mrs. Johnson is setting up her usual Saturday lunch for the local kids when a grumpy neighbor confronts her. The situation escalates quickly, ending with the sweet older lady in tears. But the grouchy neighbor soon realizes his bullying won’t be tolerated!
I have to share something that happened in my neighborhood last Saturday. It involves a sweet lady, some local kids, and a grumpy neighbor. The ending is unbelievable!
Children playing on a field | Source: MidJourney
There’s a football field near our house where the local kids play on weekends. Mrs. Johnson, who lives down the street, has been making hot dogs and other goodies so the kids can stay and play longer without having to go home hungry.
It seems ridiculous that anyone would have an issue with an older lady doing a good deed, but that’s exactly what happened.
Mrs. Johnson is a real gem. She’s probably in her late 60’s and has the kindest smile. Unfortunately, she’s a bit lonely. I think her kids live far away, and she lost her husband a few years back. This little tradition of hers, feeding the kids, seems to bring her so much joy.
Older woman preparing hot dogs | Source: MidJourney
And the kids love it, too. Every Saturday, they rush over to Mrs. Johnson’s table, laughing and chatting, grabbing their hot dogs, and thanking her.
It’s a heartwarming sight, which is why last Saturday’s events were so shocking.
Mrs. Johnson was setting up her table as usual when Mr. Davis, the grumpy neighbor from across the street, stormed out of his house, ready for a fight. I was astonished to see him beeline over to Mrs. Johnson.
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