Los Angeles, March 1966. The Hollywood Palladium was packed with 500 people for the annual Western Heritage Awards. Cowboys, actors, producers, anyone who’d made their name in Western films and television. This was the place to be if you worked in westerns. The awards were prestigious. The connections were valuable, and the guest list read like a who’s who of Hollywood’s elite.
Dean Martin was there with Sammy Davis Jr. They’d been invited to present an award together. It was unusual. Neither of them was primarily known for westerns, but the organizers wanted star power. Dean and Sammy guaranteed that. They sat at table 12 near the back. Dean preferred it that way. Close enough to be part of things, far enough to avoid the spotlight when he wasn’t performing.
At the head table sat Rex Hartley. He was Hollywood’s top cowboy star. Had been for 15 years. Every kid in America knew his name. Every western he made turned a profit. He was untouchable and he knew it. Rex was in his 50s, tall, handsome in that rugged way that played well on screen. He’d built his career playing heroes.
Sheriffs who cleaned up towns, rangers who fought outlaws, good guys who always won. But offscreen, Rex was something else entirely. He was known for his temper, his ego, his tendency to bully people he considered beneath him, and his casual racism. Everyone in Hollywood knew, but nobody talked about it. Rex was too powerful, too valuable. Studios protected him.
Colleagues stayed quiet. The system enabled him until tonight. The evening started normally. Awards were given. Speeches were made. Dean and Sammy presented best western film to a surprised independent producer. During dinner, Dean noticed Rex staring at their table, not subtly, blatantly, with an expression Dean couldn’t quite read.
“You see that?” Sammy whispered. “Yeah, he’s been doing it all night. Think he’s got a problem?” “Probably, but it’s his problem, not ours.” After dinner, people mingled, networking, smoozing, making deals. Dean and Sammy stayed at their table, finishing their drinks, preparing to leave.
That’s when Rex Hartley walked over. He’d been drinking, not falling down drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue. His eyes were slightly unfocused. His movements were too deliberate. “Dean Martin,” Rex said, his voice carrying. “Hollywood’s favorite kuner.” Dean stood up. “Rex, good to see you. Is it? Is it good to see me?” Rex swayed slightly.
Or are you just being polite? I’m always polite. Sure you are. That’s what makes you so popular. You’re nice to everyone, even people who don’t belong. The atmosphere at the table shifted. Dean’s eyes narrowed. Sammy sat very still. What’s that supposed to mean? Dean asked. Rex looked directly at Sammy.
I mean, this is the Western Heritage Awards for people who actually work in westerns, for cowboys, for real Americans. Not for He paused, searching for words. Not for every Tom, Dick, and Sammy. Dead silence at the surrounding tables. People had stopped talking, started watching. Samm<unk>s face went blank.
The expression he wore when he was hiding what he really felt. Dean stepped between Rex and Sammy. Rex, you’ve had too much to drink. You should probably head home. I’ve had just enough to drink. Just enough to say what everyone’s thinking. What’s he doing here at a Western Heritage event? What heritage? He’s not part of our heritage. He’s not part of what built the West.
Sammy’s my friend. He was invited. Same as you. But it’s not the same as me. I’m a cowboy. I’m what this whole thing is about. He’s just he’s a novelty act, a song and dance man. And you bring him here like he belongs, like he’s one of us. Dean’s voice went very quiet. What are you really saying, Rex? I’m saying this event is about celebrating American values, Western values, and those values don’t include. He looked at Sammy again.
People like him. Several people gasped. A woman at the next table covered her mouth. Sammy started to stand. Dean put his hand on his shoulder. Let me handle this. Rex smiled. See, even Dean knows. Knows his little friend needs protecting. Needs a white man to fight his battles. That’s enough, Dean said. No, it’s not enough.
You want to know what’s wrong with Hollywood? It’s people like you. People who think we need to let everyone in, change our traditions, dilute what made us great. Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch it happen. Rex turned to face the room. At least 100 people were watching now. You all see what I’m talking about? We let one in, then another, and pretty soon, we’re not making westerns anymore.
We’re making I don’t know what we’re making. But it’s not real. It’s not authentic. It’s not American. Dean felt his anger building, but he kept his voice controlled. Rex, you’re embarrassing yourself and everyone here. I strongly suggest you leave before you say something you can’t take back. I’ve already said it, and I’m not taking it back.
Someone needs to have the guts to say what we’re all thinking. An older actor at the head table stood up. Rex, that’s enough. You’re out of line. Stay out of this, George. I’m just being honest. Dean took a step closer to Rex. They were face to face now. Dean was shorter, but something in his demeanor made Rex take a step back. You want to be honest? Let’s be honest.
You just made a racist statement about my friend in front of 500 people at an industry event. That’s not having guts. That’s being a bigot. I’m not a bigot. Yes, you are. You just said Sammy doesn’t belong here because of his race. You said he’s not part of American heritage. You implied this event should be for white people only.
That’s textbook bigotry. Rex’s face turned red. You’re twisting my words. I’m repeating your words. Everyone here heard you. There’s no twisting required. The room was completely silent. Every eye was on them. Dean continued, his voice carrying to every corner of the ballroom. Here’s what you don’t understand, Rex. Sammy Davis Jr.
has more talent in his little finger than you have in your entire body. He can sing, he can dance, he can act, he can do impressions, he can play instruments. He’s one of the most gifted performers in Hollywood. But more importantly, he’s a better man than you’ll ever be. He’s faced discrimination his whole life.
Real discrimination, not the imaginary kind you think you’re facing. He’s been denied entry to hotels, refused service at restaurants, threatened, attacked, and he’s handled it all with grace and dignity. You, on the other hand, have had every advantage. You’re a white man in Hollywood.
You’ve never faced a closed door, never been told you don’t belong, never had to work twice as hard to get half as far. And yet, you stand here drunk and entitled, telling Sammy he doesn’t belong. Rex tried to interrupt. Dean didn’t let him. Let me tell you what heritage really means. heritage is the Buffalo soldiers who protected the West.
It’s the Chinese laborers who built the railroads. It’s the Mexican cowboys who taught white ranchers how to work cattle. It’s Native Americans who lived on this land for thousands of years before any of us got here. That’s heritage. That’s the real history of the West. But you don’t want to hear about that. You want the sanitized version.
The version where everyone’s white and everything’s simple. where you get to be the hero and everyone else is the background. Well, that’s not real. That’s fantasy. And if that’s the only heritage you care about, then you’re not celebrating history. You’re celebrating a lie. The room erupted in applause. Not everyone, but enough people that Rex looked around in shock. Dean wasn’t finished.
Sammy’s here because he was invited. Because the organizers wanted to honor him. Because he’s contributed to this industry. because he belongs here as much as anyone more than you based on tonight’s behavior. So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to apologize to Sammy right now in front of everyone. You’re going to acknowledge that what you said was wrong, and then you’re going to leave.
And if you ever speak to my friend like that again, you’ll answer to me.” Rex looked around wildly at the faces staring at him, at the board members in the front, at his agent in the corner who was shaking his head furiously. “I’m not apologizing. I said what I said. I meant what I said. Then you’re making a choice, a careerending choice, because everyone in this room just heard you refuse to apologize for a racist statement.
Everyone will remember this. And trust me, Rex, Hollywood has a long memory. Dean turned to Sammy. Come on, Sam. We’re leaving. Sammy stood. They started walking toward the exit. Behind them, Rex called out, “You’ll regret this, Martin. You’re making a big mistake.” Dean stopped, turned around. “The only mistake I’m making is not doing this sooner.
Guys like you have been getting away with this garbage for too long. Someone should have called you out years ago. I’m just glad I got the chance. They walked out. The room stayed silent for a long moment. Then people started talking, whispering, processing what they just witnessed. At the head table, the board members were in a heated discussion.
Outside in the parking lot, Sammy finally spoke. You didn’t have to do that. Yes, I did. Dean, that’s Rex Hartley. He’s one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. You just made an enemy. Good. I don’t want to be friends with people like that. But your career, my career will be fine. And even if it’s not, I don’t care.
I’m not going to stand there and let someone talk to you like that. Like you’re less than human. Like you don’t deserve respect. That’s not who I am. Sammy’s eyes were wet. Thank you. Don’t thank me. I just did what any decent person would do. No. Most people wouldn’t have done that. Most people would have looked away, stayed quiet, protected themselves.
But you didn’t. You stood up for me. In front of everyone, Dean put his hand on Samm<unk>s shoulder. That’s what friends do. They stand up for each other no matter what it costs. They drove away from the palladium. Behind them, the Western Heritage Awards continued, but the mood had changed. The celebration felt hollow.
The next morning, Dean’s phone started ringing at 6:00 a.m. His agent, Herman Citroen, was frantic. Dean, what happened last night? Rex Hartley made a racist joke about Sammy. I called him out. We left. It’s all over the trades this morning. Dean Martin confronts Western star at industry event. Racism allegations rock Hollywood.
Rex Hartley refuses to apologize. Good. People should know what kind of person he is. Dean, this could get ugly. Rex has powerful friends, studio heads who protect him, producers who depend on him. They’re not going to like you making waves. I don’t care what they like. You should care. Your career could suffer.
You could lose jobs, lose opportunities. Herman, I’ve been in this business for 30 years. I’ve built a reputation. I’ve got a TV show that’s number one in its time slot. I’ve got movies lined up for the next 2 years. I think I can handle losing a few opportunities if it means standing up for what’s right. Herman sighed. I admire your principles. I really do.
But I’m your agent. It’s my job to protect your career and this could damage it. Then let it be damaged. Some things are more important than career. After Herman hung up, the phone rang again and again and again. Reporters wanted statements. Friends wanted to know what happened. Industry people wanted to know whose side he was on.
Dean gave the same answer to everyone. Rex Hartley made a racist statement. I called him out. End of story. By noon, the story had gone national. Newspapers across the country were covering it. Dean Martin defends Sammy Davis Jr. against Western Stars racist remarks. The coverage was mixed. Some praised Dean for standing up to racism.
Others accused him of being overly sensitive, of ruining a man’s career over a few words. But the most interesting reaction came from Hollywood itself. Actors started speaking up, sharing their own stories about Rex Hartley, about racist comments he’d made on sets, about how he treated black crew members, about jokes that weren’t jokes.
A director who’d worked with Rex told a reporter, “Rex has been like this for years. Everyone knows, but he’s such a big star that studios look the other way. Maybe Dean Martin did what we should have done a long time ago.” An actress who’d co-starred with Rex in three films said, “Rex once told me that he refused to do any scenes with black actors, said it would hurt his image with real Americans.
The studio accommodated him. That’s how powerful he was. The stories kept coming, a pattern emerging.” Rex wasn’t just a man who’d made one mistake. He was someone with a history of racist behavior that had been enabled and protected. 3 days after the incident, the Western Heritage Awards Board held an emergency meeting.
They released a statement. The Western Heritage Awards celebrates the heritage of all Americans who built the West. Rex Hartley’s comments at our recent event do not reflect our values. We are reviewing his involvement with our organization. It was carefully worded, not an outright condemnation, but enough to distance themselves.
Rex’s agent called a press conference. Rex read from a prepared statement, “I apologize for any offense caused by my comments. I’ve spent my career celebrating Western heritage and sometimes I speak without thinking. I have great respect for Sammy Davis Jr. and all performers. But the apology felt hollow, forced, and most people saw through it.
Dean declined to comment on the apology. Just released a brief statement. I said what I needed to say. I stand by it. Two weeks after the incident, the first real consequences hit. NBC announced they were not renewing Rex Hartley’s western series. It had been on the air for 12 seasons, was still getting decent ratings, but the network cited changing tastes and a desire to move in a different direction.
Everyone knew the real reason. Rex had become toxic. A major studio pulled out of a three-picture deal with Rex. Again, no official reason, just a quiet cancellation. Advertisers who’d used Rex as a spokesman started dropping him. Not loudly, just choosing not to renew contracts. Rex’s career was collapsing.
Not overnight, but steadily, inexraably. His agent called Dean. Rex wants to talk to you. He wants to apologize. Really apologize this time. I don’t want to talk to Rex. Dean, please. The man’s career is falling apart. He needs to make this right. He had his chance to make it right.
At the event, in front of everyone. He chose not to. He chose to double down. I don’t owe him anything. But I’m not interested in helping Rex Hartley save his career. He brought this on himself. He can deal with the consequences. A month after the incident, Dean ran into Sammy at a recording studio. How you holding up? Dean asked.
I’m fine, but I feel guilty. About what? About Rex. His career’s over because of what you said. Because you defended me. Dean shook his head. His career’s over because of what he said. Because of how he’s acted for years. I just finally called him out on it. Someone was going to eventually. It happened to be me. Still, I feel responsible. Don’t.
Rex made choices. He chose to be racist. He chose to say those things publicly. He chose not to apologize. Those were his choices. He owns the consequences. But your career? Has it hurt you? Dean thought about it. No. If anything, it’s helped. People respect me more. Producers tell me they admire what I did.
I’ve gotten job offers specifically because of it. Because people want to work with someone who stands up for what’s right. Really? Really? Turns out doing the right thing is good for business. Who knew? If you love Dean Martin and his stories, make sure you like and subscribe. Sammy smiled. You’re something else, Dean. I’m just a guy who won’t stand by and watch his friend get disrespected. That’s all.
That’s everything. 6 months after the incident, Rex Hartley’s agent dropped him. Too hard to book. Too much baggage. Not worth the trouble. Rex tried to get work on his own. called producers directly, pitched projects, begged for meetings. Nothing worked. Hollywood had moved on.
The western genre was fading anyway, and Rex had become a symbol of the old way, the discriminatory way, the way things used to be. Nobody wanted to be associated with that. A year after the incident, Rex did an interview with a small newspaper in Arizona. I made mistakes, he admitted. I said things I shouldn’t have said, treated people in ways I shouldn’t have treated them, and I’ve paid for it. I’ve lost everything.
my career, my reputation, my livelihood. Do you blame Dean Martin? Rex was quiet for a long moment. I did. For a long time, I blamed him. Thought he ruined my life. But the truth is, I ruined my own life. Dean just held up a mirror and made me look at who I really was. And I didn’t like what I saw.
Have you changed? I’m trying to going to therapy, trying to understand why I thought the way I did, why I treated people the way I did. It’s hard. You spent 50 years thinking one way. It’s hard to change, but I’m trying. Would you do anything differently? If you could go back to that night, everything. I’d do everything differently.
I’d apologize immediately. I’d mean it. I’d change my behavior. But I can’t go back. I can only go forward. and forward looks pretty bleak right now. Dean never saw the interview, but someone sent it to him. He read it twice, felt a complicated mix of emotions, sympathy for a man whose career was destroyed, but also a firm belief that it was necessary, that Rex had brought it on himself, and a hope that maybe, just maybe, Rex was actually changing.
3 years after the incident, Dean got a letter in the mail from Rex Hartley. Dean, I’m writing this because I need you to know something. You were right about everything. I was racist. I was cruel. I was everything you said I was. And I spent three years denying it, making excuses, blaming you for ruining my career.
But I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of therapy. And I’ve come to understand that my career wasn’t ruined by you. It was ruined by me. By years of behavior that was wrong, by attitudes that were hateful, by actions that hurt people. You didn’t destroy me. You just finally made me face what I was. And I’m grateful for that.
I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. I’ve lost everything. My career, my marriage, most of my friends, but I’ve gained something, too. Self-awareness, understanding, the beginning of real change. I’m not looking for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know that what you did mattered. That standing up to me had an impact, not just on my career, but on me as a person.
I’ll never work in Hollywood again. I accept that. But maybe I can be a better person. Maybe I can spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the harm I caused. Thank you for having the courage to do what no one else would do. Rex. Dean read the letter three times. Then he folded it carefully and put it in his desk drawer.
He never responded. Didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if Rex deserved a response. But he kept the letter as a reminder of the cost of standing up, of the consequences of speaking out, of the complicated nature of redemption. In 1975, Dean was doing a benefit concert in Phoenix. Someone told him Rex Hartley was there in the audience.
He’d bought a ticket like everyone else. After the show, Rex came backstage. He looked older, grayer, worn down by life. Dean, I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to see you perform. To say thank you. Thank you for what? For saving my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. If you hadn’t called me out that night, I would have kept going the way I was going.
Would have kept being the person I was. Would have caused more harm, hurt more people. You stopped me. You forced me to face myself, and that saved me. Dean didn’t know what to say. Rex continued, “I’m not asking for forgiveness or friendship or anything. I just wanted you to know that I’ve changed. Really changed.
I volunteer at a community center now. Work with kids, all kinds of kids, teaching them about respect, about treating people right. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s my way of trying to make amends. That’s good, Rex. I’m glad you’re doing that. I am, too. It took me a long time to get here.
A lot of pain, a lot of loss, but I’m here now, and I’m trying to be better. That’s all I can do. They shook hands. Rex left. Dean never saw him again. But he thought about that conversation about how standing up to Rex hadn’t just ended his career. It had forced Rex to face himself, to change, to become something better than what he was.
Maybe that was worth more than any apology. In 1981, Dean was interviewed for a television special about civil rights in Hollywood. You had a famous confrontation with Rex Hartley in 1966. Can you talk about that? Dean nodded. Rex made a racist comment about Sammy Davis Jr. I called him out. His career ended. That’s the basic story. Do you have any regrets about standing up for Sammy? No. Never. Not for a second.
But Rex Hartley’s career was destroyed. He went from being one of Hollywood’s biggest stars to being essentially unemployable. That’s a heavy consequence. It is. But those were the consequences of his actions, not mine. I didn’t make him say what he said. I didn’t make him refuse to apologize. I didn’t make him spend years treating people badly.
He did all that himself and just finally said out loud what everyone knew, but nobody wanted to acknowledge. Some people say you were too harsh, that you ruined a man’s life over a few words. Dean’s expression hardened. They weren’t just words. Words have power. Words reveal character. And Rex’s words revealed that he was a racist who thought Sammy didn’t belong at that event because of his skin color.
That’s not just words. That’s hatred. and hatred has consequences. Do you think Hollywood has changed since then? Some were more aware, more willing to call out racism when we see it. But we still have a long way to go. There are still Rex Hartley’s out there, still people who think certain people don’t belong.
Still people who think their prejudices are justified. The difference is now there are more people willing to stand up to them like you did, like I did, and like a lot of other people have done since. I wasn’t the first and I certainly won’t be the last. But I’m proud that I did it. Proud that I stood up for my friend. That’s what matters.
When Rex Hartley died in 1989, his obituary was short. Mentioned his western career, his fall from grace, his years of obscurity, but it also mentioned his volunteer work, his efforts at redemption, his attempt to make amends for his past. Dean read the obituary, felt a complicated sadness. Rex had lost everything because of that night in 1966, but he’d also gained something.
Self-awareness, the chance to change, the opportunity to become better. Maybe that was enough. If you love these stories about Dean Martin and want to hear more, make sure you like and subscribe. Sammy Davis Jr. died in 1990. Dean was too ill to attend the funeral, but he sent a long letter to Sammy’s family.
Part of it read, “Sammy was my brother, not by blood, but by choice. We chose to be family, to stand by each other, to protect each other. When people tried to hurt Sammy, I defended him. Not because I wanted to be a hero, but because that’s what family does. And Sammy did the same for me countless times. That’s what made our bond special.
It wasn’t about race or religion or background. It was about love. Pure simple love between two people who understood each other. Dean Martin died in 1995. At his funeral, Samm<unk>s widow, Alivi, spoke. Dean Martin saved my husband’s dignity more times than I can count, but one time stands out. In 1966, at the Western Heritage Awards, a famous actor made a racist comment about Sammy.
Dean didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate the cost, didn’t worry about his career. He just stood up and defended his friend the way friends should, the way people should. That actor’s career ended that night and some people blamed Dean. Said he was too harsh, too unforgiving. But Dean never regretted it, never apologized for it because he knew that some things are more important than being nice.
Some things require you to take a stand even when it costs you. Sammy never forgot what Dean did. Never took it for granted. It shaped how he saw friendship, how he saw loyalty, how he saw courage. Dean Martin showed him showed all of us that real friends defend each other no matter what. That’s the real story of March 1966. Not just that Hollywood’s top cowboy made a racist joke, not just that Dean Martin called him out, but that Dean’s response had consequences that rippled through Hollywood for decades.
Rex Hartley’s career ended not because of one incident, but because Dean’s confrontation exposed a pattern of behavior that could no longer be ignored. Studios could no longer protect Rex. Audiences could no longer overlook his attitudes. The industry could no longer enable his racism. Dean didn’t set out to end Rex’s career.
He set out to defend his friend. But in defending Sammy, he forced Hollywood to face its complicity and racism. To acknowledge that looking the other way wasn’t neutral. It was supporting the problem. That’s why the story matters. Not because Dean was a hero. He didn’t think of himself that way.
just thought of himself as a friend doing what friends do. But because his actions showed that one person standing up can make a difference, can shift norms, can change what’s acceptable. Rex hardly spent years getting away with racism because nobody challenged him because people valued his star power more than they valued decency.
Dean challenged him and everything changed. Not just for Rex, but for Hollywood. For the message it sent about what would and wouldn’t be tolerated, about whose comfort mattered more. the racist or his target. Dean chose Samm<unk>s dignity over Rex’s comfort. He chose justice over politeness. He chose to act instead of staying silent.
And yes, it cost Rex everything. But Rex had made his choices long before that night. Had built a career on attitudes that hurt people. Had said and done things that had consequences, even if those consequences were delayed. Dean just finally made those consequences real. That’s not cruelty. That’s accountability. That’s not destroying someone.
That’s refusing to protect them from the results of their own actions. That’s what real courage looks like. Not the Hollywood version with dramatic speeches and heroic music, but the real version where you stand up in the moment, where you speak out even though it’s uncomfortable, where you prioritize what’s right over what’s easy.
Dean Martin did that for Sammy, for himself, for everyone watching. And Hollywood was never quite the same afterward. The story of Rex Hartley became a cautionary tale about what happens when you think you’re untouchable. When you think your star power protects you from consequences. When you forget that power is temporary but character is permanent.
Rex lost his power. But in losing it, he found something he’d never had before. The chance to be honest with himself. The opportunity to change. The beginning of redemption. He never got his career back. But maybe he got something more important. He got to become a better person.
That’s the complicated truth of that night. In 1966, Dean Martin defended Sammy Davis Jr. against a racist joke. Dean’s response ended Rex Hartley’s career. But it also ended Rex’s ability to harm others. And it began Rex’s journey to becoming someone different, someone better. That’s not a simple story with a clear villain and hero. That’s a human story.
Complicated, messy, real. Dean did what he had to do. Rex paid the price for his choices. and both of them in different ways became better for it. That’s the legacy. That’s the lesson. That’s why we still tell this story decades later because it reminds us that standing up matters. That defending your friends is worth the cost.
That accountability, even when it’s harsh, is necessary and that people can change, but only after they face the truth about who they’ve been. Dean Martin showed Rex Hartley that truth and in doing so changed both their lives forever.
