On this date, Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio married at San Francisco City Hall in a ceremony that was meant to be private but became a media circus. Their marriage lasted only 274 days, but DiMaggio's love for Monroe endured until his death, symbolized by the roses he sent to her grave for decades after her tragic passing in 1962.
When baseball's most stoic hero met Hollywood's most luminous star, it seemed like a fairy tale written in the headlines. On January 14, 1954, Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe stood before Municipal Judge Charles Peery at San Francisco City Hall and became husband and wife in a brief civil ceremony that would captivate the nation and define an era.
Their paths first crossed in 1952, when both were at crossroads in their careers. DiMaggio, the legendary Yankee Clipper, had retired from baseball the previous year at age 36. Monroe, 25, was on the cusp of superstardom. When DiMaggio saw a publicity photo of Monroe posing with Philadelphia Athletics outfielder Gus Zernial, he made his move.
"How come I never get to pose with beautiful girls like that?" DiMaggio had joked to Zernial. Through press agent David March, DiMaggio arranged a dinner date. Monroe showed up two hours late and was reportedly cool to the retired ballplayer until actor Mickey Rooney spotted them and began enthusiastically recounting DiMaggio's legendary exploits. Rooney's fawning apparently piqued Monroe's interest.
As Marilyn drove Joe home that first night, she apologized: "I'm sorry I don't know anything about baseball." DiMaggio replied simply, "That's all right. I don't know much about movies."
What followed was a determined pursuit. DiMaggio called that same evening, and every night for two weeks. Monroe refused every invitation. Finally, DiMaggio stopped calling. A week passed before they spoke again. This time, it was Marilyn who reached out to Joe.
The bi-coast romance began in earnest. DiMaggio was soon spotted on the sets of Monroe's films in Hollywood, while in New York, he brought his new girlfriend to Toots Shor's restaurant. The attraction made sense to those who knew them. Monroe was drawn to older, successful men who provided a sense of security. DiMaggio had always liked blondes, especially show business blondes. But Marilyn turned out to be more than another conquest. She would become the woman DiMaggio loved more than any other.
On the morning of January 14, 1954, DiMaggio's friend Reno Barsocchini made arrangements for a quiet wedding at San Francisco City Hall. Only Barsocchini and DiMaggio's former manager Lefty O'Doul and his wife would attend besides the couple and the judge. It was meant to be intimate, private, away from the glare of publicity that surrounded both of their lives.
But privacy was impossible. That morning, Monroe had mentioned the wedding to someone at Twentieth Century Fox, and the news leaked immediately. When the couple arrived at City Hall, more than one hundred reporters, photographers, and fans were waiting outside the room where the ceremony would take place.
After the brief ceremony, the newlyweds faced the mob of press outside. When a reporter asked about children, Monroe's eyes lit up. "I'd like to have six," she said. DiMaggio, ever more reserved, added, "At least one."
Monroe spoke hopefully about balancing her two new roles: "I'm going to continue my career. But I'm looking forward to being a housewife too." It was a vision that captured the imagination of 1950s America, the glamorous movie star settling down with the dignified sports hero.
The marriage was doomed almost from the start. Their honeymoon in Japan revealed the fundamental tension that would unravel their union. When they arrived in Tokyo, massive crowds swarmed the airport, all chanting Marilyn's name. Monroe turned to her new husband and said, "Do you hear that? All those people calling my name?" DiMaggio, who had spent his entire career as the center of attention, had already had enough. His attitude was clear: this might be new to her, but it wasn't new to him.
Then Monroe was asked to travel to Korea to perform for American troops stationed there, leaving her unhappy new husband behind in Japan. The cracks in their brilliant veneer were already showing.
Back in the United States, tensions continued to build. DiMaggio grew increasingly uncomfortable with his wife's sexy image and the public attention it generated. The breaking point came in September 1954 on the New York City set of "The Seven Year Itch." As Monroe filmed the now-iconic scene where she stands over a subway grate with her white dress billowing around her, director Billy Wilder had arranged for press and onlookers to attend. DiMaggio watched with what Wilder described as "the look of death" on his face.
Just 274 days after their City Hall wedding, Monroe filed for divorce in October 1954, citing "mental cruelty." The marriage of the century had lasted less than a year.
Yet the story didn't end with divorce papers. Years later, when Monroe was admitted to a psychiatric clinic in February 1961, it was DiMaggio who secured her release and brought her to the Yankees' spring training camp in Florida for rest and recuperation. Though rumors swirled about remarriage, they maintained their "good friends" status.
When Monroe died of a drug overdose on August 5, 1962, at just 36 years old, DiMaggio took control of the funeral arrangements, barring Hollywood from attending. For the next two decades until his own death in 1999, he sent roses to her grave several times a week. Some say it was three times a week for twenty years. Others say it was roses every week for the rest of his life.
The gesture spoke louder than any words could. Whatever had gone wrong in their brief marriage, Joe DiMaggio had loved Marilyn Monroe with a devotion that transcended death itself.
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