Ali MacGraw became a Hollywood superstar overnight. But just as quickly as she rose to fame, she disappeared from show business altogether.
Today, the 84-year-old actress has settled down in a remote and tiny town, and she’s aging gracefully with her grey hair.
Ali MacGraw
Ali MacGraw – born Elizabeth Alice MacGraw – was born on April 1, 1939, in Pound Ridge, New York, USA. Her mother, Frances, was an artist and worked at a school in Paris, later settling in Greenwich Village. She married Richard MacGraw, who was also an artist. In 1939, Ali was born.
Ali’s father Richard supposedly had issues from his own childhood which made him a little bit different from others.
He had survived a terrible childhood in an orphanage, running away at the age of 16 to go to sea. He would later study at an art school in Munich, Germany.
“Daddy was frightened and really, really angry. He never forgave his real parents for giving him up,” Ali explained, saying said her father’s adult life was spent “suppressing the rage that covered all his hurt.”
Ali MacGraw – childhood
Money was short for their family, too. Frances and Richard, together with Ali and her brother, Richard Jr, had to move into a house on a Pound Ridge wilderness preserve which they shared with an elderly couple.
“There were no doors; we shared the kitchen and bathroom with them,” Ali said. “It was utter lack of privacy. It was horrible.”
Mom Francis worked with several commercial-art assignments and supported the family. At the same time, Richard had a hard time selling his paintings, and as a result became very frustrated. Ali’s brother Richard became a victim for his anger at home.
“On good days he was great, but on bad days he was horrendous,” she recalled. “Daddy would beat my brother up, badly. I was witness to it, and it was terrible.”
Ali was the daughter of artists, and she knew that she, too, wanted to go into a creative line of work as she got older. She earned a scholarship at the prep school Rosemary Hall, and in 1956, she moved to study at Wellesley College in Massachusetts.
By the age of 22, Ali MacGraw moved to New York and got her first job as an assistant editor at Harper’s Bazaar, working with photographers as an assistant.
Fashion work in New York
Fashion editor Diana Vreeland hired Ali as, what she recalls as, a “flunkie”. Ever seen the film The Devil Wears Prada? Well, it was pretty much that.
“It was ‘Girl! Get me a pencil!’,” MacGraw recalled.
The future Hollywood celebrity worked her job as an assistant for several months. Then, about six months in, fashion photographer Melvin Sokolsky noticed her beautiful looks, and Ali MacGraw was hired as a stylist,and given a better salary. She’d end up staying in that position for six years.
“I don’t know where she got this work ethic, but Ali would come in at eight a.m., and many times I’d come back at one in the morning and she would still be doing things for the next day,” Ruth Ansel, a former art director of Vanity Fair and Harper’s Bazaar recalls.
Ali was great as a stylist. But soon, she was asked to work in front of the cameras as a model. It didn’t take long before she was on magazine covers all over the world, even appearing in television commercials. For thing led to another, and Ali tumbled headfirst into the profession of acting.
She had been sketched nude by Salvador Dali a couple of years earlier. But when the surrealist artist started sucking her toes, MacGraw decided that she’d rather be an actress than a model.
Ali MacGraw – films
Ali went straight from an unknown stylist and into the world of cinema, and boy, did she do it with a bang.
She was untutored in the art of film, which gave her acting another dimension. Her natural beauty was stunning, and the audience loved her.
Following a small role in A Lovely Way to Die (1968), she was asked to star in the 1969 film Goodbye, Columbus. It turned out to be a great call, with MacGraw receiving a Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer – Female. The following year, she got her big international breakthrough with a role that would pretty much sum up her career.
Ali MacGraw had received a script from her agent. She’d read it and wept twice because of how much she loved it. She decided she really wanted a part in it, and got herself a meeting with the film’s producer Robert Evans – who at the time was Paramount Picture’s head of production – at the Beverly Hills Hotel’s Polo Lounge. Not only did Evans think she was perfect for the part in the movie Love Story, he absolutely fell in love with her.
MacGraw – playing the role of Jenny – acted alongside Ryan O’Neal in the movie Love Story. The American romantic drama film, in which Ali played a working-class college student, became a smash hit.
Love Story hit the cinemas in 1970, and wow did the audience cherish it. It became the No. 1 film in the United States, and at the time, it was the sixth highest grossing movie in history in the US and Canada.
Award-winning actress
MacGraw earned an Academy Award nomination for her role, and the film itself earned her another win and five Academy Award Nominations. She also won herself a second Golden Globe as Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama.
Film producer Robert Evans not only loved her on screen, he had fallen in love with her in real life, and that love was reciprocated. In 1969, the couple tied the knot, and two years later, they welcomed their son, Josh Evans.
Ali MacGraw was the hot new star of the 1970s, but her private life and marriage with Evans would soon come to an end. Steve McQueen had visited their home to ask her to star alongside him in The Getaway, and the two Hollywood stars clicked right away.
“I looked in those blue eyes, and my knees started knocking,” MacGraw recalled. “I became obsessed.”
MacGraw and McQueen had an affair, and she soon left Evans to live with the actor in Malibu, along with her son Josh.
“Steve was this very original, principled guy who didn’t seem to be part of the system, and I loved that,” she said.
Ali MacGraw – Steve McQueen
But after a while, Ali realized that Steve McQueen had his own problems. Following his father abandoning his mother, a then-14-year-old Steve was sent to a school for delinquent children. MacGraw said he never trusted women after that.
(Photo by Silver Screen Collection/Getty Images)
He didn’t like that she worked and had her own career. For a while, Ali stayed home to raise their sons. But her husband’s demands were something Ali simply couldn’t accept in the long run.
Not only that, but he’d explode if she even looked at another man. He also wanted her to sign a prenuptial agreement, promising not to ask for anything if they’d divorce. She abided by the agreement when they did divorce in 1978.
“I couldn’t even go to art class because Steve expected his ‘old lady’ to be there every night with dinner on the table,” she recalled.
“Steve’s idea of hot was not me. He liked blond bimbos, and they were always around.”
This was the start of a pretty dark time in MacGraw’s life. She arrived on set to shoot the 1978 film Convoy both drunk and high, which prompted her to quit drugs.
My 18th Birthday Surprise for My Stepmom Left Her Speechless
My 18th birthday was a day I will always remember, not just because it marked my official move into adulthood, but also because it was the day I planned to reveal a surprise for my stepmom — one that I hoped would change her life in a way she never expected.
Have you ever felt like life is one long, unscripted play, where every moment could either break you or make you stronger? My life has been a bit like that.
Navigating through the tough times of loss and new beginnings, I found myself faced with a decision that could either be a heartwarming moment or a big surprise gone wrong.
My name is Sarah, and this is the story of how my entry into adulthood became unforgettable for an unexpected reason.
When my mom passed away when I was just 11, life felt like a never-ending storm. My dad, lost in his own sadness, found hope in a new woman and eventually remarried.
That’s how my stepmom, Olivia, came into my life. She became much more than just a new person in the house; she was a great source of support and love when I needed it.
At first, I wasn’t ready for her. I was too angry and wrapped up in my grief to see her for who she was. I remember the day she moved in — I stayed locked in my room, listening to her unpack, refusing to acknowledge that she was now part of our lives.
I thought, how could my dad move on so quickly? How could he bring someone new into our home?
But Olivia never forced her way in. She gave me space and waited patiently until I was ready to talk. One night, I had a nightmare about my mom. I woke up crying, drenched in sweat. Olivia heard me from the hallway and quietly opened my door.
“Sarah, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re safe,” she whispered, sitting beside me and rubbing my back gently. I didn’t push her away. For the first time, I let her comfort me, and as she held me, I felt a small warmth amid the grief.
Just like that, Olivia and I became close. She never tried to replace my mom but filled our home with a light I thought we had lost forever. “I’m here for you, always,” she’d tell me, her words soothing my aching heart.
But life had another surprise waiting. When we lost my dad, the silence in our home was heavy. I remember sitting in the dim living room, filled with fear and uncertainty.
“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” Olivia said softly. “But I want you to know I’m here for you. We’re family, no matter what.”
Her words were a lifeline in my sadness. “But everyone’s saying you’ll leave… go back to your family,” I said, struggling to hold back tears. “Will I…will I go to an orphanage?”
It wasn’t just my fear of losing her. I had heard people whispering at the funeral, speculating about how Olivia would leave now that my dad was gone. The thought terrified me. I didn’t want to be alone again.
“No, sweetie. You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. Look at me,” she said, holding my hand in the dark. She cupped my face and kissed my forehead. “We’ll get through this together.”
For a moment, the heaviness in my chest lifted. Olivia had always been my steady anchor. She stayed by my side through every family gathering where people looked at us with pity, and through every sleepless night when grief threatened to take over. Slowly, I began to trust that she meant it when she said she wasn’t going anywhere.
And she was right. Despite the whispers from others, she stayed, showing me that the bonds of family we choose can be just as strong as those we’re born into.
On the morning of my 18th birthday, the air was filled with excitement, not just for the usual celebrations but for a surprise I had been planning for years.
Olivia greeted me with her warm smile, one that had often brightened my mood since the day she entered our lives.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, handing me a small, beautifully wrapped box. Her eyes sparkled with the love and care that had become her trademark.
I took the box, my hands shaking slightly. I wasn’t nervous about the gift inside — it was the surprise I had for her that had my heart racing.
“Thank you,” I replied, feeling grateful for this woman who had stood by me through everything. “I have a surprise for you too, but… you’ll need to pack your things.”
The look of confusion on her face was immediate. “Pack my things?” she echoed, the joy fading into uncertainty. “Are you… Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I want you to pack your things in the next hour. You’re leaving this house.”
Her laughter, light and disbelieving at first, faded as she saw the seriousness in my eyes. “But why, dear? I thought we were a family…” Her voice trailed off, a hint of despair creeping in.
I could feel my resolve wavering. The pain in her eyes was more than I had expected. But I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not yet.
“It’s time,” I began, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’ve been planning this since the day Dad died. You are going to another city.”
She sat at the kitchen table, her hands shaking as she reached for something to hold, but her fingers grasped at nothing. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “I don’t understand. What did I do? Why are you sending me away?”
In a moment that felt like a scene from a movie, I loaded her things into the car and drove her to a new place, all while she sat beside me in silence, filled with confusion and sorrow.
The drive was long and quiet, filled with unspoken questions and tension. I was the first to speak.
“You didn’t know that my father opened an account in my name when I was a child, saving money for my education. Since his death, I’ve put my money from jobs and gifts into this account. Now, there’s a large sum.”
Olivia turned to me, a mix of pain and understanding in her eyes. “I understand. You’re an adult now, and you don’t need me anymore. But why are you sending me so far away? You don’t want to see me at all?”
Her voice cracked, and it felt like a dagger in my chest. I never thought this moment would hurt so much.
As we pulled up in front of a beautiful house, the surprise I had been hiding was finally ready to be revealed.
“I will use some of this money for my education,” I continued, pointing to the house. “At an Ivy League university in the city where we’re now, where I’ve already been accepted. Do you see this house?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice heavy with confusion and a hint of hope.
“I bought this house for you,” I revealed, the tension finally breaking. “There was enough money for everything. Now I will study here and you will live next door. We won’t have to be apart, and if you want, you can go back to our old house at any time, or we can return together after I finish my studies.”
She sat in stunned silence, her eyes locked on the house. “You… you bought this for me?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
Tears came then, marking the moment with emotions that words could hardly capture. We hugged, our tears mingling, showing the depth of our bond and the love that had grown between us over the years.
“I love you, Sarah,” Olivia said, her voice barely a whisper but still clear.
“I love you too,” I replied, reaching for the house keys in my bag and placing them in her hand.
It was a birthday unlike any other, marked not just by receiving gifts but by giving a future, a home, and a promise of family, no matter what life might bring.
This was our story, a stepdaughter and her stepmom, navigating life together and proving that love knows no bounds.
As we stood there, holding each other in front of her new home, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had done it: I had given back to the woman who had given me so much.
For the first time in years, I felt like I could truly breathe, knowing we had a future together.
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