The Death of Errol Flynn

He was a handsome and charming actor, who had won the hearts of millions with his portrayals of pirates and derring-doers; Errol Flynn was also a hard drinker who enjoyed life and fame and all that both had afforded him.

A few days before his death the 50 year-old matinee idol flew into Vancouver, with the intent of selling his yacht Zaca to millionaire George Caldough; he was accompanied by his 16 year-old girlfriend Beverly Aadland.

The deal having been sealed, Flynn was all set to leave the city when he said he didn't feel well. Rather than taking him to the airport, Caldough took him to the apartment of a friend, Dr. Grant Gould, at 1310 Burnaby (near the corner of Jervis) in Vancouver's West End neighbourhood. As often happened in his midst a party sprang up around Flynn, who seemed to rally, at least for a time.

Once more feeling ill, Flynn retired to a bedroom for a nap; when Aadland went to wake him a half an hour later he was dead of a massive heart attack. The rumour is that after his death he was taken to the Hotel Georgia in downtown Vancouver and propped up in a chair in the lobby, so that well-wishers could file past and pay their respects.

He is buried at Forest Lawn in Los Angeles.
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In Memoriam: Errol Flynn

Hard-drinking, hard-loving Tasmanian Errol Flynn was a handsome devil, as the record shows...

Born on this day in 1909 he led a seemingly charmed life: he made trashy movies*, dodged rape charges**, and died both young and fast, and damn it if he didn't enjoy himself doing it! Nearly fifty years after his death his place in the pantheon as one of the pre-eminent action stars of Hollywood's Golden Age is secure.  To see him in action check out Captain Blood (1935), The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936), The Prince and the Pauper (1937), Robin Hood (1938), or The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939) from the early part of his career - before he became a parody of himself, in other words.

Of particular interest to us here at the Pop Culture Institute, there is a Vancouver angle to the life of Errol Flynn, or perhaps I should say the death; Flynn died here, in 1959, in an apartment near the corner of Burnaby and Jervis that I used to walk past on my way to work - or at least, on those rare days when I felt up to it - for two years.

*And, to be fair, some not too bad ones either...
**Brought against him by Betty Hansen and Peggy Satterlee in November 1942...  An organization named the American Boys' Club for the Defense of Errol Flynn (ABCDEF) was formed to defend him; among the group's members were such sterling citizens as 17-year-old future bigoted windbag William F. Buckley, Jr.
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