CASS DALEY



So many years of making people laugh...one moment that literally shatters it all...

The Citadel book "Comic Support" describes this great film comedienne as...

"A variation on the Martha Raye type of efferverscent-but-plain man hunter.Cass Daley had teeth as prominent as Raye's, but usually less prominent comedy relief roles.

"When she was in her teens, kids made fun of her beanpole body, jutting butt and buck teeth. She got some measure of revenge by winning amateur contests with her jokes and singing. The teenager worked in a factory, but her clowning -- which included an imitation of the foreman -- got her fired. At 17 she became a hatcheck girl in a New Jersey nightclub, getting a chance to occasionally perform on stage. One of her favorite early numbers was "Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone" while strumming the ukulele."

To further talk about her while she's gone...Daley became famous in films, usually getting a laugh the moment she appeared. She had a thin body, a big butt, and those teeth. But as she said: "I was never sensitive about my rear or my teeth. They made money for me...have you ever noticed that all comediennes have buck teeth or a big mouth? Look at them: Martha Raye, Judy Canova, Carol Burnett, Kaye Ballard, right down the line..."

Her best known film these days is probably Olsen & Johnson's "Crazy House," though her own personal favorite was "Riding High" with Victor Moore.

After raising her son in the 50's, she tried for a comeback. The 70's saw her touring in "The Music Man," "The Apple of His Eye" with Buddy Ebsen and 1972's nostalgic "The Big Show of 1936." Her comeback ended with a shatter of glass in 1975. Alone in her apartment, the 59 year-old comedienne apparently fell and landed on her glass coffee table. A shard of glass jammed into her throat and she bled to death before her husband came home and discovered her.

A miserable ending to be sure. However had she stabbed herself with a fork and bled to death, the headlne would have been infinitely worse: "Tined Daley." We must be grateful, sometimes, for the smallet mercies. 1