Off screen, the real Natalie Wood was all those things you'd image she'd be: adorable, vivacious, bright, spirited. She was also extremely kind to neophytes. I found that out first-hand when Natalie had the misfortune to be the first celebrity I was ever assigned to interview for a magazine article. It was in 1965, just after she'd filmed Inside Daisy Clover, a movie everyone assumed (incorrectly as it turned out) would be Natalie's piece de resistance, a film that was supposed to win her, after three previous nominations, an Academy Award® at last. Hopes were so high the Warner Bros. press department was wooing every magazine, big and small, to do articles about "Daisy." I was with a small magazine and had little experience as a writer and zilch in doing an interview, yet I got the assignment. (It was the Peter Principal at its most flagrant.)

Natalie, by contrast, was an old pro at the PR game; age 27, she had been a working actress for some 22 years; much written-about, much interviewed. Savvy. I was invited to her home on Bentley Avenue in Brentwood, a lovely, rambling house, which was set down several steps off the main roadway. She couldn't have been more gracious. Coffee was served and the interview began, Natalie curled up in a chair near a fireplace where, I also remember, above the mantle hung an imposing painting of Vivien Leigh, her idol. I sat on the floor, notes in hand, and tape recorder ready. So far, so good. But it took only a couple of questions to flag the fact I was in Serious Trouble. I couldn't read my notes, much less understand those I could decipher. Further, my questions were haphazard, following no line of logic. I was clearly a rank amateur, wasting the time of a busy lady. Did the lady have a tizzy or storm off in a huff? Quite the contrary. This beautiful girl couldn't have been sweeter, more patient, or more helpful. Very soon she was sitting on the floor with me, organizing my notes, suggesting ways to restructure my questions so they'd get more interesting answers. She became my teacher. Also my savior and friend. I've been grateful to her ever since for the many things I learned that day. Number One, of course, was the old Boy Scout's motto: be prepared. Another: whoever crossed Natalie's path was lucky indeed. She was one in a million. Every bit as rare and special, and kind as you hoped she might be.

by Robert Osborne