Today on Our American Stories, we delve into “Mr. Capper’s Wonderful Life,” celebrating a filmmaking legend whose vision shaped Hollywood’s Golden Age. Frank Capra brought us iconic classics like the Academy Award-winning It Happened One Night, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, and You Can’t Take It with You. His movies, including the beloved It’s a Wonderful Life, are treasured for their humor, heart, and enduring messages of hope. But Capra’s own story—a journey from humble beginnings to cinematic greatness—is every bit as compelling and inspiring as the films he masterfully directed.

Born in Sicily, this American hero’s life is a testament to the immigrant dream, fueled by an unwavering love for his adopted country. At the height of his career, Capra paused his Hollywood success to serve America during World War II, creating the powerful Why We Fight documentary series that uplifted a nation. Join us as we explore how Frank Capra, the ultimate storyteller, championed the ideals of freedom and the importance of every individual, leaving an indelible mark on both cinema and the American spirit. This is a story of patriotism, perseverance, and the enduring power of hope.

📖 Read the Episode Transcript
This is Lee Habib, and this is Our American Stories, the show where America is the star and the American people. Coming to you from the city where the West begins, Fort Worth, Texas.

Our next story is called Mr. Capper’s Wonderful Life. It’s a story for the ages: the man who brought iconic classics to the big screen, including his three Academy Award winners: It Happened One Night, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, and You Can’t Take It with You. As a life story, that’s as remarkable as any movie he’d ever made, including Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and his 1946 classic, It’s a Wonderful Life. I wish I had a million dollars!

Frank Capra’s origin story is itself the classic American story and a classic love story, too, not just his love of people and the medium he would come to master—film—but his love of America, his love of the country that adopted him. He Capper so loved his country that he served, at the height of his career, directly under Chief of Staff General George Marshall, the most senior officer commanding the U.S. Army, to help bring to life a seven-episode documentary series called Why We Fight during World War II. The films were commissioned by our government to boost the morale of Americans in the fight overseas and millions of Americans at home. One film in the series, Prelude to War, won the 1942 Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature. By 1945, the year Capper was discharged as a colonel, 54 million Americans had seen the films. His service to his country was awarded the Legion of Merit and Distinguished Service Medals.

Francesco Rosario Capra’s love affair with America began not too many years after he was born in 1897 in Palermo, Sicily. Capra was named after his grandfather, who built and designed churches for a living. The youngest of seven children, his parents, Roman Catholics, both immigrated to the United States in 1903, ending up in Los Angeles. Like millions of immigrants before and after, the Campers didn’t come here to change America. They came to have America change them and change the Capras’ lives for the better. America did.

How much did Caper love his country? In 1982, while being honored in Los Angeles by the American Film Institute with their Lifetime Achievement Award, Capra seized the opportunity to thank the American people and America itself for the opportunities and freedom his adopted country afforded him. In a speech in front of the titans of the movie industry, Campra started by thanking the many people who guided him along the way: great writers, actors, and executives alike. He then explained his secret to his success as a storyteller.

Speaker 2: The art of Frank Camperor is very, very simple. It’s the love of people. And add two simple ideals to this love of people: the freedom of each individual and the equal importance of each individual, and you have the principle upon which I’ve based all my films.

Speaker 1: This was not mere sentiment Campra was expressing, and he knew more than most how to summon sentiment in his storytelling. Hope you want a shock. I think you’re a great guy. Those words sprang from a deeper well: from his Catholic worldview and the ideals and governing principles of the country he loved. But Capra wasn’t finished, saving the best part of his speech—and the most personal part of his speech—for the last. It started humbly and evocatively.

Speaker 2: An occasion like this, and we all get together to pay homage to our craft. It forces me to think, “How in the hell did I get up here?” Well, nearly 79 years ago, I celebrated my sixth birthday in the black dark hole about creaking ship, crammed with retching, praying, terrorized immigrants—thirteen days of misery. And then the ship stopped, and my father grabbed me and carried me up the steep iron stairs to the deck, and then he shouted, “Chico, look at that!” At first, all I saw was a deck full of people on their knees, crying and rejoicing. My father cried, “That’s the greatest light since the Star of Bethlehem.” I looked up, and there was the statue of a great lady, taller than the church steeple, holding a lamp over the land we were about to enter. And my father said, “It’s the light of freedom, Chico! Remember that freedom!”

Speaker 1: The audience was mesmerized as Kaepra recounted this pivotal moment in the life of his family in vivid detail, putting the audience on that ship as only a master’s storyteller can do. Kaeper continued with stories, like Bob Hope and Betty Davis on the edge of their seats and the edge of tears. Caper closed things out, looking up to the heavens to address his deceased family members. And this time it was Capper himself who was on the edge of tears.

Speaker 2: So, finally, there is something I must say to some other members of my family, and I believe that they will hear me. Mama, Papa, big brother, Bed, Josephine, Tony, little sister Anne. Remember the day we arrived at the Southern Pacific Station here in Los Angeles, and Papa and Mama kissed the ground. Look, the American Film Institute has given me its Life Achieved Award, and for that I am thanking them and all my friends will have come here. But for America, just for living here… I kissed the ground. Thank you very much.

Speaker 1: Camper’s words were preceded by then President Ronald Reagan’s words, the Young Color Settlement at Frank’s Tayable.

Speaker 3: One of Frank’s Dere’s friends, Bob Hope, Lady, and Jonathan. Thank you very much. I wouldn’t have missed this affair for our man Frank. And there’s another friend of yours that’s in a telegram, and they’ve asked me to read it. So, dear Frank, you have recognized and helped us to recognize all that is so wonderful about the American character. Ronald Reagan.

Speaker 1: Camper’s films also helped us recognize the character of Jesus. Here are words that Caepra told to an interviewer in 1960: “Movies should be a positive expression that there is hope, love, mercy, justice, and charity. A filmmaker has the unrestricted privilege of haranguing an audience for two hours; stretches the chance to influence public thinking for good or for evil. It is therefore his responsibility to emphasize the positive qualities of humanity by showing the triumph of the individual over adversities.”

Caepra died peacefully in his sleep at his home in La Quinta, California, in 1991, at the age of 94, in the country he loved, surrounded by the people he loved and the God he loved, too. They say that art mirrors life, but sometimes life mirrors art. That at least was Caeper’s hope. The headline to his New York Times obituary said it best: “Frank Capra, Whose Films Helped America Keep Faith in Herself, Is Dead at ninety four.” The Story of the Wonderful Life of Frank Capra, an immigrant story and love story for the ages. Here on Our American Stories.