George Jacobs: The Real Help II

Sinatara and Davis

“He generally called me George, but when he was being rambunctious, particularly with his so-called gangster friends, with whom he loved to act as ‘bad’ as he could, he’d call me Spook. I know these were the days of Black Power, but somehow it didn’t bother me.” – George Jacobs

During my search for information on Marilyn Monroe’s relationship with the black community, I came across George Jacobs’ Mr. S: My Life with Frank Sinatra. Unlike the tale Elvis’ maid weaves in her book, Jacobs’ story provides all the juicy details about Sinatra behind the scenes. Maybe it helps to have had a huge fallout with your boss before you make a decision to capitalize on your former relationship with a tell-all. I respect that, especially if you claim it’s all true.

In 2007, there appeared to be some buzz about Brett Ratner’s plans to direct a film version of the book, which would star Chris Tucker as Jacobs. Nobody knows whatever became of that project, but the book lives on. Here’s a quick excerpt to get you going:

It’s probably a good idea for me to point out that while I sometimes refer to the Chairman as Frank, or Sinatra, when we were together, I only addressed him as Mr. S. He generally called me George, but when he was being rambunctious, particularly with his so-called gangster friends, with whom he loved to act as “bad” as he could, he’d call me Spook. I know these were the days of Black Power, but somehow it didn’t bother me. After all, one of the few times I ever saw the guy cry was earlier that year when Martin Luther King Jr. was killed. (He did not shed a tear for Bobby Kennedy, but that’s another story.) He called his plane the El Dago. He called Dean Martin Wop, Gene Kelly Shanty, Cary Grant Sheenie, Jerry Lewis Jew, Laurence Harvey Ladyboy, Johnny Mathis the African Queen. Those were his terms of endearment. This was way before political correctness, and because he loved being the Bad Boy, he insisted on doing the opposite of whatever was political and whatever was correct, except around the kingpins of his youth like Sam Giancana with whom, ironically enough, he was always on perfect behavior, like a little altar boy.

We get a whole new outlook on well-known celebrities when ‘the help’ starts talking. You know Jacobs’ knows the business when he’s able to talk about the size of Sinatra’s manhood and the fact that they had to create special underwear to keep it contained. Wow.

Happy reading, y’all!