One of twenty black and white premium photos issued by Motion Picture Magazine, circa 1946. The original item measures approximately 7-1/2 X 10 inches and is on a light stock paper. You can check current availability of this and other Motion Picture Magazine premiums on eBay.
The following text is what is printed on the back of the above premium. I've added spaces for new paragraphs for better online reading, but all text remains the same.
Given the source of the premium, Motion Picture Magazine, this is basically the studio bio for Dana Andrews up through the time that this item was printed, circa 1946.
DANA ANDREWS is the dark comet who flashed so brightly in Swamp Water, Berlin Correspondent and Crash Dive, scored heavily in Laura, and is now Mr. Darryl Zanuck's white hope. Dana was born at Collins, Mississippi, son of a Baptist preacher, and the third eldest of a brook of ten, seven of them boys. So similar were his experiences to those of the preacher's kid in One Foot in Heaven, that he might have served as technical director.
On the move always, tranquil never, Parsons Andrews performed God's work in whatever setting the Baptist "Conference" chose to place him. In time, the Andrews were allo9wwed to settle down at Huntsville, Texas. From the Huntsville High School Dana went on to State Teacher's College, where he worked his way through managing the local movie palace, serving as teller in the bank, and minding babies. He came out with honors, graduated at 18.
With a degree in business administration, he hooked up with a Houston oil company as an accountant. He hated it. One year of jostling figures convinced him he has landed in the wrong profession. All his friends kept saying nice things about his singing voice, so he decided to chuck the whole thing, hie himself to Hollywood where great coaches abounded, and groom himself for the Met. It was ten years before he got started on any sort of a career.
Five years he spent odd-jobbing around Hollywood. He was managing a gas station and sinking $20 a month into vocal lessons when a miracle happened. A man in a shiny limousine drove into the station one fine day, offered to put money into whatever was dear to Dana's heart. Dana explained that he was a natural-born singer. The stranger suggested that Dana forget singing, concentrate on acting. Dana calmly tossed over seven years of effort and accepted the stranger's offer. For three years he worked like a Trojan at the Pasadena Playhouyse. His backer kept backing him.
The career was $10,000 and ten years in the red when he turned in a brilliant performance in the Playhouse production of Oh, Evening Star, which won him a Sam Goldwyn contract. The offer came just in time. Heartsick and disillusioned, he was about to leave Hollywood forever and return to accounting. His rise since then has been a healthy one, and great things are being predicted for him.
Twice married, he is the father of a tyke named David who is about ten, frisky, and fair-haired. He met his present wife in a Playhouse production called First Lady, in which both appeared. A quiet guy, he likes to get into the wood with his dog. A thinker, he is always plotting books he hopes someday to write. Being strictly a realist, he feels that for the time being he has plenty to do in making over Dana Andrews.
His new picture is United Artists' A Walk in the Sun.
