One thing that's never emphasized enough about Judy Garland is how funny she was. She was a genuine, four-star, top-of-the-line funny lady, one of those rare souls who could find the humor in almost any situation. She not only loved to laugh but also relished making others do the same. It's a side of Judy you rarely hear about; people these days seem so intent on painting her as The Dark Lady. Certainly there were downbeat aspects to the Garland life but there was nothing bleak about the lady herself. Her kids will tell you that even on those occasions when Judy would have to sneak the family out of hotels because she couldn't foot the bill, she'd have them all laughing so hard they would still be howling about it hours later. I didn't know Judy well, but I did have the pleasure of being in her company many times between 1960 and the time she died in 1969. Those were supposed to have been her "Tragic Years" and if they were there was, nevertheless, a great deal of laughter involved. Medea, she was not.

Only rarely did I see her humor fail her. There was, for instance, an evening at her home in Brentwood when there were four of us, led by Judy, sitting on a floor and playing a serene, friendly game of Monopoly. Suddenly, with the force of a bullet, she threw a drink in one fellow's face because he'd made a statement that offended her - the very same statement she herself had made only minutes before. (First lesson: it helped if you never tried to follow Judy's reasoning) Another time she stopped speaking to me for a few weeks after she'd read an article I'd penned about the Academy Awards. I'd written that Grace Kelly, not Judy, had won the Oscar in 1954. It didn't matter that it was true; Judy insisted that if I were a real friend, I'd have written that she had won. But in between those "gaslight" times, there was always the sound of laughter around her. Thank heavens, there was also time for some good leisurely chats about the old days. She mentioned, for instance, she'd wanted to sing that song "You Made Me Love You" not to a photo of Clark Gable but instead to Robert Donat of Goodbye Mr. Chips fame. "Donat was my favorite," she said. "Never Gable. It was the studio who wanted the song to be about Clark." Marilyn Monroe she adored ("I barely knew her but it's like we shared a soul"). Joan Crawford scared her. ("So controlling!")

The last time I saw Judy was at a party at El Morocco in New York, one her ex-husband Sid Luft had given for her after the opening night of her last engagement at the Palace. At the end of the evening, as I was leaving, I took a last glance at the dance floor and there was Judy dancing cheek-to-cheek with Bert Lahr, once her Cowardly Lion on that road to Oz. If one had to have a last look at Judy Garland, I can't think of a better one. And, yes, she was laughing.

by Robert Osborne