So, I was scrolling through old movie clips the other day—you know, the kind where you fall down a classic Hollywood rabbit hole—and suddenly I’m watching Margaret O’Brien at age six, crying on command in Journey for Margaret. I kid you not, the girl could sob on cue better than most adults can fake a smile. And it hit me: where the heck is that little genius now?
If you’re like me, you probably assume she’s either still acting in a nursing home somewhere or, tragically, passed away decades ago. Spoiler alert: she’s very much alive, and she’s been living a life that’s far from the Hollywood spotlight. Let’s dig in, shall we?
The Quick Answer (Because You’re Impatient)
Margaret O’Brien currently lives in Westlake Village, California. That’s a quiet, upscale suburb about an hour northwest of Los Angeles—think gentle hills, nice weather, and neighbors who probably don’t realize she was once MGM’s most bankable child star. She’s been there for decades, sharing her home with her husband, Roy Thorsen, and a menagerie of pets. Yes, she’s still married—to the same guy since 1974. That’s longer than most of my appliances have lasted.
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But Wait, How Did a Child Star End Up So… Normal?
Here’s the part that’s almost ironic: after a childhood where she worked with Judy Garland in Meet Me in St. Louis and Lionel Barrymore in The Canterville Ghost, Margaret didn’t crash and burn. No tabloid scandals, no bankruptcies. She just… stopped. By her late teens, the roles dried up—as they always do for child actors—and she quietly transitioned into a regular human life. She married a successful businessman, raised a daughter, and started painting. Yes, she paints. Landscapes and portraits. She even sells them at local art fairs occasionally.
If you’re thinking, “That sounds too perfect,” you’re not wrong. She’s had her struggles—who hasn’t?—but she’s the rare example of a star who genuinely enjoys the quiet. I recently read an interview where she said, “I had my time in the sun. Now I just want to garden and watch Jeopardy!” Relatable.
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Why Westlake Village? (And Not, Say, Beverly Hills)
Westlake Village is the kind of place where people drive golf carts to the grocery store. It’s the anti-Hollywood. Margaret once joked that she moved there because it had less traffic and more trees. Honestly, after a childhood of studio bosses screaming at her to cry, I’d want peace and quiet too. She lives in a modest, ranch-style home—not a mansion, just a cozy house with a big backyard. She grows tomatoes, by the way. That’s not a metaphor. She actually grows tomatoes.
But here’s the kicker: she still gets fan mail. People send her letters addressed to “Margaret O’Brien, Westlake Village,” and they arrive. That’s how small the town is. She once told a reporter, “The mailman knows me. He waves.” I found that oddly sweet.
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Does She Ever Miss the Spotlight?
Occasionally, she shows up at a film festival or a Turner Classic Movies event—always polite, always gracious, always wearing a vintage dress she sewed herself. She makes her own clothes. I’m not even that crafty with a button, and she’s over here tailoring 1940s-style gowns. But she’s said that when the cameras turn off, she’s happy to go home and feed her rescue cats. Her cat’s name is Muffin. I am not making this up.
There’s a moment in one of her rare recent interviews where the host asks, “Don’t you ever get the urge to act again?” And she replies, with a perfectly timed pause, “I do, when I need to wake up the cat from my lap.” Ouch, but also: legend.
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The Real Lesson Here
Margaret O’Brien living in Westlake Village isn’t just a trivia answer. It’s proof that you can survive childhood stardom without losing your mind—or your soul. She didn’t chase fame; she grew tomatoes. She didn’t demand a comeback; she painted landscapes. And she’s still married to the same guy for 50 years. That’s more of a Hollywood miracle than any Oscar.
So next time you’re feeling nostalgic for The Secret Garden or Little Women, just picture Margaret in her backyard, sipping iced tea, wearing a dress she made herself, and thinking, “I bet they’re all still trying to get my attention.” And you know what? She’s right. She’s earned that peace.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to buy a tomato plant in her honor.
