Earl Holliman’s path to Hollywood is a compelling story of ambition and aspiration. At the age of 14 in 1943, he was resolute in his desire to become a movie star.
Raised in Oil City and Mooringsport, often mistakenly identified as Shreveport, he embarked on his journey to Hollywood through several stops along the way. His adventure began with a trip to visit relatives in Camden, Arkansas, followed by a bus ride to Texarkana, Texas. From there, he hitchhiked to Hollywood.
Having saved some money working as a theater usher and during the night shift at a café near Barksdale Air Force Base, Holliman had also connected with a serviceman who offered a lead on a place to stay. However, this turned out to be in El Monte, California, a significant distance from Hollywood. Looking back, Holliman acknowledges that it was a risky decision, one that wouldn’t be advisable in today’s world.
His initial foray into Hollywood didn’t pan out, prompting him to return home briefly before enlisting in the Navy. Nevertheless, his dream of becoming an actor remained alive. He eventually made his way back to Los Angeles, where he honed his craft at the Pasadena Playhouse and the University of California, Los Angeles.
Holliman’s determination paid off, leading to an impressive film career with notable roles in classics like “Giant” (1956), “Forbidden Planet”, “The Rainmaker”, and “The Sons of Katie Elder”. He also became well-known on television, especially for his work alongside Angie Dickinson in “Police Woman” and with Richard Chamberlain and Rachel Ward in “The Thorn Birds”.
He fondly reminisces about his early days in Hollywood, particularly his first morning in El Monte, when he wore a short-sleeved silk shirt and dark glasses while walking in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, fantasizing about being mistaken for a star. It was a moment filled with youthful dreams and innocence.
See below how Earl Holliman looks today at 96.
My Daughter and the Neighbors Daughter Look like Sisters, I Thought My Husband Was Cheating, but the Truth Was Much Worse
When the new neighbors moved in, I couldn’t shake the eerie similarity between their daughter and my own. Could my husband have a secret past? I had to confront him, but I soon discovered a truth far darker and more complex than I’d imagined.
There in the backyard, Emma and Lily played, spinning around like two golden sunflowers seeking sunlight. Their laughter echoed in perfect harmony, a sound that should have brought me joy, but instead sent a chill through me.
I squinted, searching for any difference in their appearances, yet they looked almost like duplicates. The same golden curls, button noses, and playful spark in their eyes. Only Emma’s slight height advantage set them apart.
“Heather?” Jack’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced a smile, pushing down my racing thoughts. “Just… thinking.”
As weeks went by, my suspicions grew, tangled in Jack’s uneasy glances and the secretive way he avoided our neighbors in conversation. I felt like I was suffocating in my own home, my perfect world now as shaky as a house of cards.
One night, after hours of restless turning, I blurted out, “Is Lily your daughter?”
The silence that followed felt dense and suffocating. Jack, caught off guard, looked at me, his face a mixture of shock and hurt. “Heather, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend, Jack. The girls look identical, and you’ve been avoiding the neighbors. Just tell me the truth.”
Jack finally sighed, shoulders heavy with a burden I hadn’t understood. “Heather, this is insane. I’d never betray you. But it’s not that simple. I… I can’t talk about this now.”
He left the room, leaving me reeling with unanswered questions.
The following day, desperate for clarity, I sent Emma off to play with Lily and then went to their house. I asked Lily’s father, Ryan, about his wife, and he invited me in. In the living room, there were only photos of Ryan, Lily, and family members who looked nothing like the girls. My eyes caught a large photograph of a blonde woman up the stairs.
“Is that Lily’s mom?” I asked, heart pounding.
Ryan’s face fell. “Yes, that’s Mary. She’s no longer with us.”
“Because of Jack? They had an affair, didn’t they?”
Ryan shook his head, horrified. “No. Jack and Mary were family. She was his sister.”
The room blurred around me as the truth sank in. Jack’s sister, Mary, was Lily’s mother. He had been carrying the weight of a fractured family and the regret of not being there for her.
When I returned home, Jack was waiting in the kitchen, his face ashen and vulnerable. “Heather,” he began, voice thick with emotion, “I wanted to protect you from the broken pieces of my past. I failed my sister, and I’ve been carrying that guilt.”
As he opened up, I saw years of pain and regret unravel before me, the distance between us shrinking with each word. By the time we finished talking, I felt closer to Jack than ever.
Outside, Emma and Lily’s laughter drifted through the open window. Watching them play side by side, they still looked like twins, but now, their resemblance didn’t feel haunting. Instead, it felt healing—a testament to a family reuniting, finding new strength in second chances. Their laughter echoed in the golden light, a promise of new beginnings that filled me with warmth instead of fear.
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