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Lucille Ball

During the 1950s - the Golden Age of TV Comedy - I Love Lucy was the No. 1 show. It starred Lucille Ball as a housewife getting in and out of outlandish scrapes, to the exasperation of her husband, who was played by Ball's real-life husband, Cuban bandleader Desi Arnaz.

I Love Lucy changed the face of television. Building on their success, Lucy and Desi bought the RKO Studios – where Lucy had started out as a contact player – and set up Desilu Productions, launching TV programs such as Mission Impossible.

When their marriage broke up, Lucy carried on for the next 25 years, starring in her own series: The Lucy Show, Here's Lucy and Life with Lucy. She died in 20 years ago a national institution – the New York Post summed it up: WE LOVED LUCY.

But this incredible success was on the verge of being destroyed when Lucy was summoned by the House Un-American Activities Committee.

Lucille Ball's biographer, Stefan Kanfer, takes the story from here: 

“In the spring of 1952 Lucy learned that investigators for the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC) had unearthed a fact she had tried to forget: California voting records showed that a Lucille Ball had registered as a Communist back in 1936.

However, by the time HUAC caught up with her,I Love Lucy was too big to suffer a frontal assault. Every courtesy was afforded the reigning star of situation comedy. She testified in secret, explaining the background as directly as possible: Grandpa Fred Hunt was an eccentric populist, a union organizer but hardly a Muscovite radical. And besides, Lucy and her brother had registered as Communists only to keep the old man from having a stroke. They never actually voted in that long ago election. The congressmen seemed satisfied with this family history and Lucy was excused without prejudice. No reporters were privy to the meeting, no stories appeared in the papers the next day. Lucy had the impression that HUAC had bigger fish to fry.

But a year later a letter arrived from HUAC. Nothing to worry about said an aide to Representative Donald L. Jackson, the HUAC chairman. "We simply want to go over the statements made at your previous appearance before the committee last year." Lucy knew better: the long time climb from her origins in Jamestown, the career, the house, the show, Desilu itself would all go. Every time she had reached a peak, disaster beckoned. It was beckoning now.

Lucy resubmitted her testimony, emphasizing that she and her brother had simply placated their crusty old grandfather by registering as Communists. She was dismissed with the comforting words of investigator William Wheeler: "I have no further questions. Thank you for your co-operation." She shook hands with him and made her exit, assured she was in the clear and that her testimony would remain sealed.

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Lucille Ball

During the 1950s - the Golden Age of TV Comedy - I Love Lucy was the No. 1 show. It starred Lucille Ball as a housewife getting in and out of outlandish scrapes, to the exasperation of her husband, who was played by Ball's real-life husband, Cuban bandleader Desi Arnaz.

I Love Lucy changed the face of television. Building on their success, Lucy and Desi bought the RKO Studios – where Lucy had started out as a contact player – and set up Desilu Productions, launching TV programs such as Mission Impossible.

When their marriage broke up, Lucy carried on for the next 25 years, starring in her own series: The Lucy Show, Here's Lucy and Life with Lucy. She died in 20 years ago a national institution – the New York Post summed it up: WE LOVED LUCY.

But this incredible success was on the verge of being destroyed when Lucy was summoned by the House Un-American Activities Committee.

Lucille Ball's biographer, Stefan Kanfer, takes the story from here: 

“In the spring of 1952 Lucy learned that investigators for the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC) had unearthed a fact she had tried to forget: California voting records showed that a Lucille Ball had registered as a Communist back in 1936.

However, by the time HUAC caught up with her,I Love Lucy was too big to suffer a frontal assault. Every courtesy was afforded the reigning star of situation comedy. She testified in secret, explaining the background as directly as possible: Grandpa Fred Hunt was an eccentric populist, a union organizer but hardly a Muscovite radical. And besides, Lucy and her brother had registered as Communists only to keep the old man from having a stroke. They never actually voted in that long ago election. The congressmen seemed satisfied with this family history and Lucy was excused without prejudice. No reporters were privy to the meeting, no stories appeared in the papers the next day. Lucy had the impression that HUAC had bigger fish to fry.

But a year later a letter arrived from HUAC. Nothing to worry about said an aide to Representative Donald L. Jackson, the HUAC chairman. "We simply want to go over the statements made at your previous appearance before the committee last year." Lucy knew better: the long time climb from her origins in Jamestown, the career, the house, the show, Desilu itself would all go. Every time she had reached a peak, disaster beckoned. It was beckoning now.

Lucy resubmitted her testimony, emphasizing that she and her brother had simply placated their crusty old grandfather by registering as Communists. She was dismissed with the comforting words of investigator William Wheeler: "I have no further questions. Thank you for your co-operation." She shook hands with him and made her exit, assured she was in the clear and that her testimony would remain sealed.

Ball with her partner and
comic foil Desi Arnaz

But on the radio that night Walter Winchell offered a blind item: "The top television comedienne has been confronted with her membership in the Communist Party."  Despite guarantees, someone had leaked the news that Lucille Ball had been before HUAC. The next day the Arnazes woke to find a reporter and a photographer camped in their front yard. At noon the Herald Express hit the stands with an extra: the paper carried a four-inch banner: LUCILLE BALL A RED. Under it was a photostat of the 1936 card indicating Lucille Ball's intention to vote the Communist Party ticket. The feeding frenzy had begun.

On several occasions Desi had met J. Edgar Hoover at the Del Mar racetrack. Now Desi imposed on their acquaintanceship with a phone call. He explained the situation as best he could and asked if there were any other nasty surprises in Lucy's FBI file. Hoover had already checked it. "Absolutely nothing!" he declared. "She's one hundred percent clear as far as we're concerned." With that assurance, Desi felt free to call Frank Stanton, head of CBS in New York, warning that a scandal was about to break and that there was not a shred of truth in it. "I am so goddam mad, I'm going to fight this like I've never fought before," Desi told him. The phone rang non-stop that afternoon, and Desi was selective about whose calls he would take. Later he confided to Lucy that he had spoken to columnist Hedda Hopper. "I told her that the only thing red about you is your hair, and even that's not legitimate." "You 'dint' " said Lucy, and as soon as she made fun of his accent, Desi knew she had regained enough humor and equilibrium for his next move.

Just before filming the first show of the new season, Desi stepped before the studio audience and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, I know that you have read a lot of bad headlines about my wife. I came from Cuba, but during my years in the United States Army I became an American citizen, and one of the things I admire about this country is that you are considered innocent until you are proven guilty." He told them the full story would come out the next day, proclaimed Lucy as "American as J. Edgar Hoover and President Eisenhower," and once again used the line about her hair being the only red thing about the star. The star of the show came on to a standing ovation and the continued shout: "We love you, Lucy".

There was one more hurdle to clear: the ratings. It was all very well for the journalists to draw back from the attack, and for more than two thousand letters to arrive in support of Lucy. It was quite another to expect the country at large to stay tuned to the show. The Neilsen and Trendex polls would reveal more about the political climate than any columnist or mailbag. And so on that Monday night an apprehensive Desi and Lucy awaited the 'overnights' – the fast reading of what viewers had watched between 9:00 and 9:30 EST. Shortly after midnight the results came in. I Love Lucy remained number one, a fact noted in a Los Angeles Times headline the next day: EVERYBODY STILL LOVES LUCY.'

Extract taken from Ball of Fire: The Tumultuous Life and Comic Art of Lucille Ball by Stefan Kanfer (Faber & Faber, 2005).

That was over 50 years ago. It seems ludicrous from the standpoint of the 21st century. It couldn't happen now, could it? But it did – during the Iraq War anyone who challenged the legitimacy of Bush's military adventure was deemed unpatriotic. People like novelist Barbara Kingsolver were inundated with hate mail accusing her of being “Un-American.” If we don't learn from the past, we'll be condemned to repeat it...