‍SONG and dance superstar Sammy Davis Jnr earned over $50 million ($120 million today) in his career and yet he died penniless, owing the tax man $5.2 million.

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‍As he lay on his death bed in May 1990, with the world’s Press outside his door in Beverly Hills, agents from the Inland Revenue Service combed his house listing valuable furniture and keepsakes they could take for sale.

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‍Harlem-born Sammy didn’t even have enough money in the bank to pay for the electricity bills for his mansion or even weekly shopping for the household, that came courtesy of his Rat Pack pal Frank Sinatra.

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‍Hollywood reporter John I, who covered the deaths of many stars of stage and screen, told of Sammy’s final days in his popular and revealing blog some years later. It is a fascinating read.

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‍He wrote: “Never had I seen a mob of reporters like the one in front of Davis’s Summit Drive home in Beverly Hills during those final days.

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‍“A crowd of more than 300 journalists from around the world jammed traffic along the winding street that had no pavements and cops had to be called so the other residents of the exclusive canyon neighbourhood, could get in and out of their palatial homes.”

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‍Davis was diagnosed with throat cancer in late 1989 and doctors told him that surgery to remove his larynx would be the best solution. But he wanted to keep his voice rather than have part of his throat removed so he opted for a combination of radiation and chemotherapy. Although this helped for a while, his condition worsened and doctors announced they could do nothing more.

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‍Finally, over the days of May 13-16, 1990, the world’s Press, including the Daily Express, converged on his home to await his death.

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‍John wrote: “The star’s next-door neighbour called police after reporters trampled his strawberry patch; another neighbour across the street turned on sprinklers daily to prevent reporters from sitting on the singer’s front lawn.

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‍“Since there was no parking or sidewalks on Summit Drive, old friends like Dean Martin, paying their last respects, had to be dropped off.

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‍“One showbiz friend in a wheelchair had to be wheeled almost two blocks to the house because the roads were jammed. The scene was nothing short of a three-ring circus, and inside was even more bizarre. The tax men were everywhere with their notebooks listing items.

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‍“The IRS claimed that not only had he been under-reporting his income, but they had disallowed several tax havens he had claimed in recent returns. And, in recent years, the IRS had been confiscating all his income from shows, tours, and Las Vegas appearances to pay off the debt.

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‍“Now, as he lay dying, the tab was at $5.2 million and he was flat broke.”

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‍The house was a veritable treasure trove of showbiz memorabilia, John said. There was an estimated $1.5 million in jewellery, an Andy Warhol soup can painting valued at $25,000; signed photos of Davis pals Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe; and wardrobes of his lavish costumes.

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‍In his study were more than 300 musical scores he had written; an eight-foot-high glass fibre statue of a character from the Planet of the Apes and awards, plaques, and gold watches he had accumulated over the years.

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‍Finally, around noon on May 16, the publicist and the family announced Davis had died at the age of 64. The world press, the cops, and the distraught neighbours disappeared and left an empty street.

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‍Davis was born in Harlem and began his career in vaudeville at the age of three as a member of The Will Mastin Trio, a dancing and singing troupe run by his father.

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‍“His son’s talent put him on the road to becoming a member of Frank Sinatra Rat Pack in 1959, and he made several films with the group, later getting his own popular television show and becoming a headliner in Las Vegas.

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‍When he was 29, he lost his left eye in a car accident and wore a patch for a year until he was fitted with a glass eye. Shortly afterwards, he converted to Judaism.

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‍Once before a golf match, Jack Benny asked Davis what his handicap was.

‍“Handicap?” Davis replied. “Talk about handicap; I’m a one-eyed Negro Jew.”

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‍I LOVE YOU DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND, SAYS ART GARFUNKEL

‍The story behind the classic song The Sound of Silence is a deep and personal history of sadness for Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.

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‍The haunting song was largely ignored by the British Press who collectively felt it was mediocre when released in 1964. It wasn’t until a remix in 1965 that it rocketed up the charts.

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‍In the early Sixties the two singers had a dear friend Sanford (Sandy) Greenberg. He was Art’s college roommate at Columbia University who was losing his sight from glaucoma, the Hollywood Press revealed. To support his friend, Art adopted the nickname ‘Darkness’ so that Sandy wouldn’t feel alone in his condition. The singers often greeted him saying, “Hi Darkness.’

‍The famous opening line of the song was, of course, ‘hello Darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.’

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‍Paul Simon wrote the lyrics when he was 21, often composing in his parent’s tiled bathroom in the dark with the tap running to create a natural echo chamber.

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‍Sandy became dependent on Art’s help, walking him to class, bandaging him up when he fell, reading to him, and filling out graduate school applications. The star changed his entire life to accommodate his friend.

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‍One day, as they were standing in the middle of Grand Central Station, Art said that he had to leave for an appointment, leaving Sandy in the centre of a crowd by himself.

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‍Trying to make his way to the train back to the university, he bumped into passengers, knocking over cups of coffee, and even fell. But he got back.

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‍Then he heard a familiar voice behind him: “Hello Darkness.” It was Art who had never left his side, watching over his friend the whole time. Sandy had at last become independent.

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‍He went on to get a master’s degree and became a lawyer.

‍Houdini in his bronze coffin from his act … his wife buried him in it

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‍HOUDINI’S WIFE FINDS THE KEY TO OPEN HIS LETTERS FROM HIS LOVERS

‍THE DAILY Express and other newspapers often mentioned Houdini’s wife Bess and how happy they were together for 32 years. They even wrote love letters to each other when they were wed, the tabloids revealed.

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‍But the escapologist and magician had secrets locked away in his safe. Intimate love letters from women, including author Jack London’s wife Charmain. Another was Daisy White, a magician’s box assistant and another, singer Millie Barry. There were many more he slept with.

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‍When angry Bess found them after his death, to get her own back, she privately invited each mistress to a private dinner at her home. As they left, she handed her embarrassed guest their explicit love letters as a parting gift, saying how much she had enjoyed reading them.

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‍Houdini died on October 31, 1926, aged 52 from peritonitis caused by a ruptured appendix, after being punched in the stomach by a student when he bet the boy that he could control his stomach to feel no pain.

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‍The escape star was buried with his head resting on letters from his beloved mother, whose passing had deeply affected him. His coffin was the same bronze model he had used underwater in his acts.

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‍Ten years later, on the evening of Halloween, in 1936, reporters were invited join 300 guests to attend a séance on the roof of Hollywood’s Knickerbocker Hotel arranged by Bess, who had promised her husband she would try and get in touch with him in the spirit world.

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‍In the centre of a table lay a pair of locked handcuffs on a silk pillow. A trumpet and a tambourine were nearby for him to make contact. He and Bess had agreed a special codeword,  ‘Rosebelle’, for the séance which was broadcast over the radio.

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‍He never came and Bess announced over the microphone: “It is now my personal and positive belief that spirit communication in any form is impossible.

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‍“The Houdini shrine has burned for 10 years, I now, reverently, turn out the light. It is finished. Good night, Harry!”

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‍TERRY MANNERS

‍9 February 2026