The night I won my Academy Award was kind of boring. Back in 1935 the Academy had a big dinner because there was no TV. It was a long dinner for me, and I spent the time breaking up rolls and looking at what everyone was wearing. Finally they called my name, which was a surprise, and I was presented with a very small Oscar. It was a Special Oscar. Because I was little, they made it little. But it never felt like a real one, and I wanted one the same size as everyone else’s. I turned to my mother and said, can we go home now? On our way home I asked her if I got the award because I did the best work. She said, “No, because you made the most films in 1934.” I finally did get a big one–in 1987.
TALKING PICTURES: When he was a boy in boarding school in Los Angeles, Gregory Peck would frequently go with his friends to watch the early sound movies.
We would take the trolley car downtown on Sundays and try to hit two, maybe three, talkies. Everybody was mad for the talkies. I remember “The Jazz Singer,” when Al Jolson just burst into song, and there was a little bit of dialogue. And when he came out with “Mammy,” and went down on his knees to his Mammy, it was just dynamite.
