Two
THE PFEIFFERS - Los Pfeiffers

Richard 'Dick' Pfeiffer was fed up with the cold and discontent of the post-war 1950s in North Dakota. He was watching a Western on television one night and saw the wagon train rolling West. The theme was the new life. In his twenties, he and his wife Donna, who is one year older, decided to make the same trip: start a new life, start a family. Southern California in the fifties was a place of space, hope and chances as opposed to the flawed paradise of overcrowding, fear and dismay it had become by the nineties. It was a work-hard, live-well situation; geographically the sun shone, but brightest on those who made most effort.

With ironic hindsight, the Pfeiffers chose to live in Midway City, Orange County, California, which is a tenmile drive from Disneyland but a world away from the deal-making of Hollywood and Beverly Hills, the partying of Malibu and Bel-Air. Midway City - the name speaks volumes - is suspended in the middle of everything and nothing, much like being in the eye of the hurricane. Even the better surfing is to the south on Interstate 39. Someone in town said that for anyone with ambition the, best way to see Midway City is in a car's rearview mirror. Preferably, a Rolls-Royce sort of car. The drive to fame and fortune wasn't ever going to be that simple for Michelle Pfeiffer. She had lots of demons to tame before getting on that road.

Richard Pfeiffer Senior went into a quintessential southern Californian trade - air conditioning. He had brought his North Dakota values with him out West, and top of the list was the work ethic: you put in a good day's labour, you didn't waste goods or time, you paid your way.

While the sixties rocked 'n' rolled, and history and circumstances changed again and again in that tumultuous decade, life for the Pfeiffer's - Mum, Dad and the four kids - was as white picket fence as you get in the golden state. The Pfeiffer's first born was a son, and he was named Richard after his father. Then, there were three daughters. First Michelle and then her sisters Lori and Dee Dee, who recalls how: 'In our family if something broke you didn't replace it, you fixed it. Our grandmother used to darn nylons for a penny an inch during the Depression. She worked until she collapsed. We come from Dakota farmers. Both sides of the family are very hard working. We sisters - Michelle, Lori and myself - always made our own clothes. Michelle even made her own jeans. It was fortunate that thrift became very popular right around that time. It was right up our financial alley. We lived cheque by cheque on our father's earnings and shopped at Thrifty and K-Mart (Woolworth-type stores).'

Dee Dee Pfeiffer left school in the early eighties to study for two years before becoming an actress. She is not her sister's lookalike. She's more sporty looking, more athletic rather than that porcelain, almost untouchable, look of her superstar sister. Dee Dee appeared with her sister and Al Pacino in the 1991 film Frankie and Johnny, in which she had a small role. She admitted, 'I was more nervous with Michelle than with any big stars. It's because she is my sister, and I look up to her so much. I thought it would be the easiest thing ever, but I was so nervous I could barely spit the lines out.'

In the growing-up years, sometimes she would have gladly spat at her sister, 'I don't remember loving my sisters and my brother Rick. I remember things like Michelle getting into my make-up; when she broke my record album; when Mom was away one time and we got into a fight and she ripped my hair out. It wasn't until we all got older that we bonded. But that's normal family stuff.