The 42nd Academy Awards in 1970 was a night filled with glamor, but one star undoubtedly shone brighter than all the others.
At just 38, Elizabeth Taylor was at the height of her beauty, and her fabulous gown and the world-famous diamond sparkling around her neck made the night special.
However, behind the scenes, a heartbreaking loss threatened to overshadow proceedings…
Looking back at old Oscars ceremonies is like stepping into a time machine that whisks you away to an era filled with glamor and grace. Honestly, the stars of that time had more class in their little fingers than many of today’s so-called celebrities combined.
I can’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over me. It’s bittersweet to gaze upon these iconic figures, so many of whom are no longer with us. To me, it serves as a stark reminder of how fleeting life truly is — a short, beautiful journey we should cherish every moment of.
An historic night
The 1970 Academy Awards was a memorable evening for many reasons, most notably its lack of an official host.
It also marked a groundbreaking moment in Oscars history, as it was the first ceremony broadcast via satellite to an international audience.
One of the night’s most iconic moments was Cary Grant receiving the Academy Honorary Award. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, a heartfelt tribute to his timeless appeal and remarkable legacy in film.
On the other hand, John Wayne’s acceptance speech for Best Actor for his role in True Grit also stole the emotional spotlight. The legendary American icon delivered a humble and gracious speech, showcasing his genuine appreciation for the honor.
Yet, the evening wasn’t without its controversies. Many still debate that the biggest robbery in Oscars history occurred when Dustin Hoffman was overlooked for his breathtaking performance in Midnight Cowboy. Many might argue that John Wayne received the statue for his long and loyal service to the film industry, and perhaps there’s some truth to that as well.
Sinatra saved Cary Grant
Looking back at the archives, it’s clear that Cary Grant played a starring role during the 1970 Oscars. As the legendary actor took the stage to accept the Academy Honorary Award, he naturally expected some applause — a simple courtesy.
When the audience gave him a standing ovation, he was on the verge of tears.
”When everyone stood up, I was all at sea. I thought for a moment I was seeing things. I was so taken aback that I don’t know how I delivered my acceptance speech,” he later recalled.
Grant was on the brink of breaking down, overcome by the emotion of the moment. But just then, he spotted Frank Sinatra in the crowd, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark, and that quick glance was all it took to steady him.
”It pulled me together,” Grant said.
Elizabeth Taylor’s entrance
But let’s be honest, the real star of the 1970 Oscars wasn’t Cary Grant, Dustin Hoffman, or even John Wayne. As remarkable as they were, it was a 38-year-old beauty who truly stole the spotlight, captivating everyone at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles, California.
When Elizabeth Taylor stepped onto the stage to present the award for Best Picture, her entrance was nothing short of mesmerizing.
Her kindness and generosity contrasted sharply with the cutthroat nature of Hollywood. “Liz Taylor, no one ever as beautiful,” people would say, and it was true.
There was a genuine aura about her that drew people in.
Dressed in a stunning gown that hugged her tiny waist and highlighted her natural beauty — sans the heavy tan that was popular at the time — she left everyone in awe at 42nd Academy Awards.
And with her world-famous 69-carat Cartier diamond sparkling around her neck, it was clear that Elizabeth was not just an actress; she was an icon.
The truth about her diamond
Looking closely at the photos of Taylor from that night, it’s hard not to be captivated by the magnificent jewel around her neck.
Yet, few may know the story behind this iconic piece of jewelry. The Taylor-Burton Diamond, which glittered so beautifully against her skin, wasn’t just a glamorous accessory — it was a symbol of love, determination, and a bit of Hollywood drama.
Just days before April 7, 1970, the date of that year’s Oscars, the press was buzzing with anticipation, speculating on what Elizabeth Taylor would wear to the glamorous event.
Rumors swirled that she planned to dazzle the audience with her million-dollar diamond, newly set in a stunning necklace. For the privilege of showcasing this gem, Taylor reportedly paid a $2,500 insurance premium to three Australian companies — equivalent to about $20,250 today.
This iconic piece, known as the Taylor–Burton Diamond, weighed in at a breathtaking 68 carats and was a gift from her husband, actor Richard Burton.
A raving maniac
The original rough diamond, discovered in 1966 at the Premier Mine in South Africa, weighed 241 carats. Burton acquired the diamond during a visit to London, though not without a fight. Initially, the jeweller manufacturer Cartier had won the diamond at auction for a record-breaking $1,050,000, leaving Burton as the underbidder.
Furious over his loss, Burton turned into a raving maniac.
”I was going to get that diamond if it cost me my life or 2 million dollars, whichever was greater,” he declared.
Elizabeth, however, remained calm.
”Elizabeth was as sweet as only she could be and protested that it didn’t matter, that she didn’t mind if she didn’t have it, that there was much more in life than baubles, that she would manage with what she had,” Burton later wrote in his diary.
The day after the auction, Burton spent hours at a payphone in his London hotel, working with his lawyers to secure the funds to buy the diamond from Cartier — no matter the cost.
Their determination paid off, and the following day, the diamond was officially theirs for $1.1 million.
”I wanted that diamond because it is incomparably lovely … and it should be on the loveliest woman in the world,” Burton later said, cementing this iconic gem’s place in Hollywood history.
Bob Hope joke about Elizabeth Taylor
Comedian Bob Hope led some of the humorous presentation of films and actors nominated for the 42nd Academy Awards, bringing his signature wit to the evening.
As he acknowledged the distinguished guests in attendance, he quipped about Taylor, saying, ”I know Miss Taylor is here. I saw a Brinks truck parked outside.”
Richard Burton couldn’t help but chuckle at the clever nod to his wife’s exquisite collection of jewels.
The truth about her dress
The moment Elizabeth Taylor stepped onto the red carpet at the 1970 Academy Awards, it was as if time stood still.
The first thing that captured attention was the stunning color of her dress: a mesmerizing cornflower blue that danced between violet and lilac hues with every shift in the light — and the hundreds of flashing cameras capturing her every move.
The dress wasn’t just a piece of fabric; it was a masterpiece designed by Edith Head, meant to accentuate every inch of Taylor’s radiance.
For starters, the color choice wasn’t a coincidence. Designed by the iconic Edith Head, the gown’s shade was carefully selected to match Taylor’s own mesmerizing eyes. Taylor herself collaborated with Head, seeking an updated version of the dress she wore in the 1951 film A Place in the Sun.
The gown was more than just a fashion statement; it was a work of art. The plunging neckline perfectly framed the Taylor-Burton diamond, allowing the necklace to shine while accentuating her newly slim figure.
“It is designed to show off Elizabeth’s new, thin figure. It’s a soft, floaty, romantic chiffon. Over it, she has a soft, stole-cape to the floor in chiffon with a hood,” Edith Head told AP.
It was a look that would become etched in Oscars history, forever tied to the elegance and allure of Elizabeth Taylor.
Took a 10 minute bath
On the day of the event, Taylor’s beauty routine was reportedly refreshingly simple.
The celebrated movie star didn’t follow an elaborate skincare regimen; instead, she used a basic drugstore moisturizer.
Although she enjoyed doing her own makeup, she worked with a professional makeup artist for important occasions like the Oscars. Taylor favored a sheer foundation and soft blush, often using cake eyeliner for her eyes. Interestingly, she never wore false lashes, as she was naturally blessed with a double set of lashes.
”Elizabeth took a 10 minute bath at the end of her makeup application, to help set her makeup and relax a bit before the event,” a rep for House of Taylor told AOL.
Cried backstage
The celebrated star, one of the last of classical Hollywood cinema, had an important role during the 1970 Oscars — she was there to present the coveted Best Picture award.
However, chaos reigned behind the scenes.
Moments before her appearance, Richard Burton had just suffered a heartbreaking defeat, losing the Best Actor award to John Wayne. This marked the sixth time Burton had been nominated without clinching the iconic golden statuette, and the news hit Taylor like a thunderclap.
Devastated, she broke down in tears backstage, with witnesses recounting how the makeup artist had to rush to refresh her look before she could take the stage.
When she finally stepped onto the stage, her composure was shaky. You could see it in her eyes. As she appeared, a hush fell over the audience; you could hear a pin drop.
Despite her professionalism, the heaviness of her husband’s loss was clear as she announced the winner for Best Picture.
The man she loved had faced yet another loss, and it weighed heavily on her heart.
After-party
In his diary, Burton captures the essence of that magical night:
“Wednesday 8th: We went to the party afterward and sat with George Cukor, the Pecks, and the Chandlers (owners of the LA Times), but we were surrounded by scores of photographers who, to my delight, paid little attention to anyone else, including the winners. Barbra Streisand, who fancies herself a big star, was completely eclipsed.”
A glance at the countless photographs of Taylor from that unforgettable night makes it abundantly clear — she was the undeniable center of attention.
At the after-party, the actress and her husband was surrounded by a constellation of celebrities. Flashbulbs lit up their table like fireworks.
It was as if the paparazzi were also spellbound, struggling to focus on their task as they recognized the sheer magnitude of the moment. No longer were they mere photographers capturing dreams for glossy magazines; they found themselves entranced by the vision before them.
Many would argue that the greatest star of the 20th century shone brightest on that unforgettable night. On her left ring finger glittered yet another extravagant gift from her husband — the stunning 33.19-carat Krupp diamond ring, capturing the essence of her iconic allure.
So how did this magical night end for Taylor and her entourage?
”We got out with a great difficulty because of the hordes of photographers, visiting Gig Young, who won best supporting actor, en route, who was stoned but sweet. Hawn won the supporting actress, also as predicted. We couldn’t find Duke Wayne so came home, [. . .] Later still came Wayne himself also very drunk but, in his foul-mouthed way very affable,” Burton wrote in his diary.
As the curtains fell on the 1970 Oscars, one thing was abundantly clear: Elizabeth Taylor was the undeniable star of the night. She encapsulated everything that was magical about Hollywood in the 1970s: beauty, talent, and an unyielding spirit that transcended the screen.
Reflecting on her charisma and humility, it feels entirely fitting to celebrate her in this way. She was not just a phenomenal actress but a remarkable human being who captured the hearts of many.
If you agree, please feel free to share this article!
A Flight Attendant Saved a 62-Year-Old Business-Class Woman’s Life – 2 Years Later, She Received a Christmas Gift from Her as a Reward
Two years after I saved a woman’s life at 35,000 feet, I was at my lowest, struggling to make ends meet and reeling from my mother’s loss. On Christmas Eve, a knock on my door brought an unexpected gift and a chance at a new beginning from a stranger I thought I’d never see again.
I’d seen every kind of passenger imaginable in my years as a flight attendant — the nervous first-timers, the seasoned business travelers, and the excited vacation-goers.
But there’s one passenger I’ll never forget. Not because of her designer clothes or business-class ticket, but because of what happened at 35,000 feet that day. Two years later, she changed my life in ways I never could have imagined.
A sad, teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me paint a picture of my life first. My basement apartment was exactly what you’d expect for $600 a month in the city. Water stains decorated the ceiling like abstract art, and the radiator clanked through the night like someone beating it with a wrench.
But it was all I could afford now, at 26, after everything that happened. The kitchen counter doubled as my desk, workspace, and dining table. A small twin bed occupied one corner, its metal frame visible where the sheets had pulled loose.
The walls were thin enough that I could hear every footstep from the apartment above, each a reminder of how far I’d fallen from my old life.
I stared at the stack of unpaid bills on my fold-out table, each one a reminder of how quickly life can spiral. The collection agencies had started calling again. Three times that day alone.
Bills on a table | Source: Midjourney
I picked up my phone, thumb hovering over Mom’s number out of habit, before remembering. Six months. It had been six months since I’d had anyone to call.
My neighbor’s TV droned through the wall, some cheerful holiday movie about family reunions and Christmas miracles. I turned up my radio to drown it out, but the Christmas carols felt like salt in an open wound.
“Just keep breathing, Evie,” I whispered to myself, Mom’s favorite advice when things got tough. “One day at a time.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me. BREATHING. That’s what started this whole story on that fateful flight.
A heartbroken woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“Miss, please! Someone help her!” A loud cry pierced through the aisle.
The memory of that flight two years ago was still crystal clear. I was doing my regular checks in business class when I heard the panic in a man’s voice. Three rows ahead, an elderly woman was clutching her throat, her face turning an alarming shade of red.
“She’s choking!” Another passenger shouted, half-rising from his seat.
My training kicked in instantly. I rushed to her side, positioning myself behind her seat. The other flight attendant, Jenny, was already radioing for any medical professionals on board.
“Ma’am, I’m here to help. Can you breathe at all?” I asked the lady.
A senior woman experiencing discomfort on a flight | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with fear. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the armrest, knuckles white with strain.
“I’m going to help you breathe again. Try to stay calm.”
I wrapped my arms around her torso, found the spot just above her navel, and thrust upward with everything I had. Nothing. Again. Nothing. The third time, I heard a small gasp.
A piece of chicken shot across the aisle, landing on a man’s newspaper. The woman doubled over, taking deep, ragged breaths. The entire cabin seemed to exhale collectively.
A flight attendant on a plane | Source: Unsplash
“Easy now,” I soothed, rubbing her back. “Just breathe slowly. Jenny, can you bring some water?”
The woman’s hands were shaking as she smoothed her silk blouse. When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were watery but warm. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll never forget this. I’m Mrs. Peterson, and you just saved my life.”
A senior woman smiling on a flight | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, already moving to get her some water. “Just doing my job, Mrs. Peterson. Try small sips.”
“No, dear,” she insisted, holding onto my wrist. “Some things are more than just a job. I was so scared, and you were so calm. How can I ever repay you?”
“The best repayment is seeing you breathing normally again. Please, drink some water and rest. I’ll check on you again soon.”
If I’d known then how right she was about some things being more than just a job, maybe I wouldn’t have hurried back to my duties quite so fast.
A busy flight attendant on a plane | Source: Unsplash
Life has a way of making you forget the good moments when the bad ones come crashing down. After Mom’s diagnosis, everything else became background noise. I quit my flight attendant job to care for her.
We sold everything — my car, Grandpa’s house in the suburbs, even Mom’s art collection. She’d been quite well-known in local galleries, and her paintings fetched decent prices.
“You don’t have to do this, Evie,” Mom had protested when I brought her the resignation letter to read. “I can manage.”
“Like you managed when I was sick with pneumonia in third grade? Or when I broke my arm in high school?” I kissed her forehead. “Let me take care of you for once.”
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
The last painting to go was her favorite — a watercolor she’d painted of me sitting by our kitchen window, sketching two birds building a nest in the maple tree outside.
She’d captured every detail, from the morning sunlight in my messy hair to the way I used to bite my lip when I concentrated. It was the last thing she painted before she got sick.
“Why did you paint me drawing birds?” I’d asked her when she first showed it to me.
She smiled, touching the dried paint gently. “Because you’ve always been like those birds, honey. Always building something beautiful, no matter what life throws at you.”
An emotional senior woman holding a paintbrush | Source: Midjourney
Soon, we struck gold online. An anonymous buyer offered us a fortune, way more than we expected. And Mom couldn’t believe her luck.
“See, Evie? Even when things seem darkest, there’s always someone out there willing to help build a nest.”
Three weeks later, she was gone. The hospital room was quiet except for the slowing beep of monitors.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she’d whispered, her last words to me. “Stay strong.”
The doctors said she wasn’t in pain at the end. I hoped they were right.
A doctor in a ward | Source: Midjourney
Time slipped away like grains of sand. Christmas Eve found me alone in my basement, watching shadows dance on the wall from passing car headlights.
I hadn’t bothered with the decorations. What was the point? The only Christmas card I’d received was from my landlord, reminding me my rent was due on the first.
Nobody knew where I lived. I’d made sure of that. After Mom died, I couldn’t handle the pitying looks, the awkward conversations, and the well-meaning but painful questions about how I was “holding up.”
But then, a loud knock on my door startled me.
A startled woman looking up | Source: Midjourney
I approached cautiously, peering through the peephole to see a man in an expensive suit holding a gift box with a perfect bow. His overcoat probably cost more than three months of my rent.
“Can I help you?” I called through the door.
“Miss Evie? I have a delivery for you.”
I opened the door a crack, keeping the chain on. “A gift? For me?”
He smiled politely. “Yes, ma’am, this is for you,” he said, extending the box. “There’s an invitation too. I assure you, everything will make sense soon.”
A man holding a gift box | Source: Midjourney
The box was heavy for its size, wrapped in thick paper that crinkled softly as I took it. I found an elegant cream envelope. But it was what lay beneath that made my heart stop — Mom’s last painting. There I was, forever frozen in time at our old kitchen window, sketching birds on a spring morning.
“Wait!” I called out. “Who are you? Why are you returning this painting?”
The man looked up. “You’ll get your answers, don’t worry. My boss would like to meet you. Do you accept the invitation?”
A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I looked down at the painting, then back at him. “When?”
“Now, if you’re willing. The car is waiting.”
The car pulled up to a mansion that looked like something out of a holiday movie, complete with twinkling lights and wreaths in every window. Fresh snow crunched under my worn boots as the man led me up the walkway.
I clutched the painting closer, feeling desperately out of place.
A stunned woman in a posh mansion | Source: Midjourney
Inside, a grand staircase swept upward, garlands trailing its banister. The man led me through to a warmly lit study where a fire crackled in a stone fireplace. And there, rising from an armchair, was Mrs. Peterson — the same woman I’d saved on that flight two years ago.
“Hello, Evie,” she said softly. “It’s been a while.”
I stood frozen, the painting clutched to my chest. “Mrs. Peterson?”
A senior woman smiling in a mansion | Source: Midjourney
She gestured for me to sit in a leather chair beside the fire. “I saw your mother’s work featured in a local art gallery’s online post,” she explained. “When I saw the painting of you, I knew I had to have it. Something about the way you were capturing those birds…” She trailed off, her eyes growing distant. “It reminded me so much of my daughter.”
“You bought my mother’s painting?”
She nodded. “I learned about your mother’s diagnosis and even spoke with the doctors,” she continued, her voice breaking. “I offered them any amount of money to save her. But some things…” She dabbed a tear. “Some things are beyond the reach of money.”
“How did you find me?” I whispered.
A visibly shaken woman | Source: Midjourney
“I have my ways,” she said with a small smile. “I contacted the hospital and convinced them to share your address, given the circumstances. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of, even if I couldn’t save your mother.”
“Why would you go to such extreme lengths for me?”
Mrs. Peterson moved to sit beside me. “Because I lost my daughter last year to cancer. She was about your age.” She touched the frame of the painting gently. “When I saw this listed online — a mother’s last artwork being sold to pay for her treatment — I knew I had to help. Even if I was too late.”
I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. “The money from this painting gave us three more weeks together.”
“My daughter Rebecca loved art too.” Mrs. Peterson’s voice wavered. “She would have loved this painting. The symbolism of it… building something together, even when everything seems broken.”
An emotional older woman | Source: Midjourney
She pulled me into a hug, and we both cried, two strangers connected by loss and a moment at 35,000 feet.
“Spend Christmas with me,” she said finally. “No one should be alone on Christmas!”
The next morning, we sat in her sunny kitchen, sharing stories over coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls. The kitchen smelled like vanilla and spices, warm and inviting in a way my basement apartment never could be.
“Rebecca used to make these every Christmas morning,” Mrs. Peterson said, passing me another roll. “She insisted on making them from scratch, even though I told her the ones from the store were just fine.”
A cheerful woman | Source: Midjourney
“Mom was the same way about her Sunday pancakes,” I smiled. “She said love was the secret ingredient.”
“Your mother sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was. She taught art at the community center, you know? Even when she was sick, she worried about her students missing their lessons.”
Mrs. Peterson nodded, understanding in her eyes. “That’s the hardest part, isn’t it? Watching them worry about everyone else until the very end.”
An older woman in a lavish room | Source: Midjourney
It was healing to find someone who understood exactly how it felt to have such an enormous void in your life. Someone who knew that grief doesn’t follow a timetable and that some days are harder than others, and that’s okay.
“Evie,” Mrs. Peterson said, setting down her coffee cup. “I have a proposition for you. My family’s business needs a new personal assistant… someone I can trust. Someone with quick thinking and a kind heart.” She smiled. “Know anyone who might fit that description? Someone called Evie?!”
I looked at her in surprise. “Are you serious?”
A woman gaping in surprise | Source: Midjourney
“Completely. Rebecca always said I worked too hard. Maybe it’s time I had someone to help share the load.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “What do you say?”
Looking at her hopeful expression, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in months: a spark of possibility. Maybe Mom was right that morning when she painted me watching those birds. Maybe home really is something you build together, one small piece at a time.
“Yes,” I said, squeezing back. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
As we hugged, I knew my life was about to change. This Christmas, I found a family again. And though nothing could replace the hole my mother’s absence left, perhaps with Mrs. Peterson’s help, I could build a new home… one that honored the past while giving me hope for the future.
An emotional young woman standing in a mansion | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Leave a Reply