Twitch Upon a Star by Herbie J. Pilato Page B

but Robertson described the association as “very good,” with reservations:
    â€œI would say Elizabeth was always politically aware, not oriented. And I suspect her marriage to Bill Asher had something to do with that, at least later on. I don’t know that for certain, but I suspect that.” When reminded that it was Asher who directed President Kennedy’s birthday celebration at which Marilyn Monroe sang a breathy “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” the near-ninety-year-old Robertson exclaimed, “Yes, of course. Because he knew JFK. That fits!”
    Equally surprised to learn that Bewitched began rehearsals on November 22, 1963, the day President Kennedy was assassinated, Cliff went on to explain how much Lizzie’s particularly bright appeal contributed to the success of that series during what became a very tumultuous and dark time in American history. “She was most certainly the main ingredient that was brought to that show. What you saw on the screen was pretty much who she was … that was her personality. She was delightfully up. She was smart. But she wasn’t smart-ass.”

    In the TV Guide article, “Like Dad, Like Daughter,” published July 24, 1953, Lizzie expressed hopes of one day finding fame by way of her famous father. Although she refused to ride that road on his name only, he sought to simplify her path as much as possible. That summer she became a member of his select acting company and, despite the nepotistic boost, they both insisted that she, then only twenty, would ultimately have to make it on her own.
    â€œI have a standing offer with Liz,” Robert Montgomery said. “Any time she wants to discuss her career with me, I’m available. But the decisions are hers.”
    â€œI grew up with Dad’s acting, which probably raised my hopes of becoming an actress,” she added. “But I think I’d have wanted that even if Dad had never acted.”
    She had looked forward to winning a role in Eye Witness , a 1950 film her father was making in England. She asked for a screen test and Robert consented. “The only trouble with that,” she said dolefully, “was that another actress (Ann Stephens) got the part.”
    The following year, she finally won her father’s approval for that now famous Montgomery Presents episode, “Top Secret,” the last line of which Robert called “the best one in the script. It was originally to have been mine,” he said. “But Liz wanted it, so I had to give in. What else could I do?” Fall prey to her charms, it would seem; just as her mother did on many an occasion. As Lizzie explained in 1965:
    They were both sweet enough to point out some of the difficulties of a show business life, especially for a girl. The difficulty is actually the matter of exposing yourself to a series of rejections. It isn’t like any other business. You’re selling yourself, offering yourself, and if you don’t get a part, it’s you who are being rejected. It’s something you have to learn to live with if you’re really serious about acting.
    She was clearly very serious about her theatrical pursuits and her parents, specifically her father, were willing to support the task at hand. He promised her when she was fourteen years old that she could make her professional debut with him, and with the “Secret” episode on Presents , he kept that promise. “He knew me well enough to know that being an actress would never interfere with me,” she said in 1953. “Actually working with him gave me an enormous respect for the business.”
    But in July 1954, she told Cosmopolitan writer Joe McCarthy a different story. According to the article, “The Montgomery Girl,” she wasn’t at all happy with working in her father’s summer stock TV theatre:
    What will people think? People will say I’m working on this show because