After she did the show but before she went to London and died on the toilet, she lived in Boston in the mid-1960's. I was just barely a gayling, but I have two stories from that period in her life.
My uncle Tom was then the night commander at the Boston Police Department's downtown HQ and as such, he knew everything that went on. A recurring problem then was Miss Garland's late night entertaining at her place in a new apartment building that had just opened at the Prudential Center in the Back Bay. Judy would apparently get shitfaced and pick up someone to either party or sleep with too often and too noisily for her neighbor's comfort, so on more than one occasion the cops were called. Usually it went OK - a friendly "cool it" was enough to break up the party - and after a while it almost became a routine for whoever got the call. One night the cops went up and the party was in full swing but instead of being shushed, Judy invited them in, someone played the piano, and they stayed. Needless to say, Judy ending up with "Why can't I" to two burly Irish cops had them in tears. But they got the place cleared and Judy quieted down when they left. Some of the neighbors were outside in the hall in their pajamas still complaining, but the cops, moved by her performance, were all, "Oh, give her a break, you killjoys. She's had a tough time of it and she's such a wonderful person. And she can still sing "Over the Rainbow."
The other comes from a friend who does stand-up and has told this story on stage. When Marie was a kid, maybe seven or eight, she was with her family at Paragon Park in Nantasket, about 20 miles south of Boston. She'd been waiting and waiting in line for the Tilt-a-Whirl and I guess because of how they have to load it (balance?), she had to wait out a couple of rides until they had another kid her size and even then, she barely made it - she was the last person on board. Who was the other kid her size? Joey Luft. Judy and Lorna and Joey were at the park and Judy was strapped in next to her. If you see this coming, great, but back then my friend didn't: Judy hurled all over her from the motion of the ride. Or the drinking or the dieting or whatever. The most amazing thing, she said, was that Garland was in an all white outfit - slacks, sweater and shoes - and didn't get anything on herself but it went all over Marie. Judy just said, "Sorry, kid" and walked off with her kids when the ride was over. Her mother tried as best she could to clean her clothes off from a water fountain, but could only do so much, I guess. It ruined her night at the amusement park, but if that wasn't bad enough, she was mortified when they headed home. Outdoors and by the ocean, it might not have seemed to smell so bad but when they started to get in the car, her father said to her mom, "Get a beach towel to cover her up, get her clothes off, and toss 'em - get rid of them. We can't have 'em in the car because they smell like puke and you can never get rid of the smell of puke."
Her mother hesitated, though: "But, but, but, I can't do that. I mean, it's Judy Garland's puke."