There’s a list I carry in my head.
People I’ve seen. People I’ve touched. People I watched on a stage and never forgot. A New York kid who ended up in uniform for thirty years gets lucky that way. Lucky enough, anyway, to have run into some of the best.
If I’ve mentioned any of them before, bear with me.
* * *
Al Jolson — 1948
He was billed as “the World’s Greatest Entertainer,” and even a nine-year-old boy in Flushing had heard of Al Jolson. You couldn’t miss him. His voice was unmistakable. His movies were everywhere.
But in every one of those movies, he wore blackface.
So when the announcer at Loew’s Prospect Movie Theater hollered “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Al Jolson!”and a white man walked out…
Wait, wha? He’s white!!
I was only in the early February of my life. I had genuinely believed he was a negro. That was the proper term in Flushing, 1948.
His singing voice was one of a kind and wonderful. The show was great. I was enthralled.
And still confused.
* * *
Bobby Thomson — 1953
I was a die-hard Yankee fan, which made this more complicated.
My Uncle Dan (not really my uncle) took me and my friend Johnny to the Polo Grounds to see the Giants. Bobby Thomson was their star outfielder. Two years earlier, he’d hit the Shot Heard Round the World, the three-run homer that won the 1951 National League Pennant against the Dodgers.
After the game, Johnny and I waited by the locker room door. We spotted Bobby. He spotted us and started moving fast toward his car.
We ran after him, shouting his name.
Johnny stumbled. Scraped his knee. The chase was over.
And then Bobby stopped. Turned around. Came back. Helped Johnny up.
And gave us both an autograph.
* * *
Surprise — September 1964
Marjorie and I had been married exactly three days.
We were on our way to two weeks in New York City, with a stop in Washington, DC. Walking past the National Theater, we noticed a matinee about to start. Tickets available. Great orchestra seats. Cheap.
We went in.
The show was a preview. We watched it and wondered to each other whether it might be a hit on Broadway.
It was Fiddler on the Roof. Starring the great Zero Mostel. On a spontaneous whim, three days into our marriage, we saw the original Fiddler.
Of course it became a monstrous classic.
What a surprise!!
* * *
Barbra — Same Honeymoon, Different City
We saw ten Broadway shows in fourteen days. One of them was the mega hit Funny Girl, starring the mega star Barbra Streisand.
I had been a super fan even before getting married. Had all three of her LPs. Marjorie had loved her before I even told her about her.
Her performance in Funny Girl.
Absolutely unforgettable.
* * *
Johnny Mathis — The Copa
Yep. Same honeymoon.
The Copacabana. Most famous nightclub in New York City. Maybe the world. Golly, I was naive. I thought having a reservation meant we were all set.
Then I noticed the people ahead of me slipping something into the maître d’s hand.
Of course, it was $$.
So you want a decent table, reservation or not, have cash ready for tipping/bribing. Believe it or not, we got a decent table. Johnny sang a bunch, didn’t talk much (that wasn’t his thing), and we loved it.
We went back decades later, saw him again at Myrtle Beach in the ’80s.
Still great.
* * *
Sammy — 1981
He was the only headliner in Las Vegas advertised on the Sands famous giant hotel billboard with just one name.
Sammy. That was enough.
Of course, it was the great entertainer, singer, dancer, comic, actor Sammy Davis Jr. He put on the most entertaining one-man show that Marjorie and I ever witnessed. A one-of-a-kind talent and the only member of the Rat Pack I ever had the privilege to see in person. Never got to see Sinatra, Dean Martin, Peter Lawford, or Joey Bishop.
He died way too young, at 64, in 1990. Smoked too much. Lived too hard.
But happily, Marjorie and I got to see him in his glory.
* * *
Presidents Nixon and Carter
In early 1973, I was at a podium in the Statler-Hilton in Washington, briefing families on what to expect when our Vietnam POWs came home. Medical care, finances, the whole process. We were expecting Dr. Henry Kissinger, Secretary of State.
What we got was better.
I heard Hail to the Chief over the loudspeaker and stepped aside fast.
President Nixon walked to the podium and said, modestly, “I know you were expecting Henry, but I hope I can step in for him.”
Standing ovation. He’d ended that stupid war. Our POWs were on the way home.
President Carter was different. Around 1978, at Pope Air Force Base, adjacent to Fort Bragg, NC, home of the 82nd Airborne Division and the great Green Berets, he made a pass-through visit on his way to somewhere in Florida. He wasn’t very popular among military folks, but he was our Commander-in-Chief, and my boss asked (ordered) me to bring some of my people to the flight line to greet him.
I brought my seven-year-old son Jeffrey.
President Carter walked by with Rosalyn. She looked at Jeffrey and said, very graciously, “Oh, what a cute little boy.”
Jeffrey and I never forgot that wonderful honor.
* * *
Reagan and Bob Hope — Same Stage, 1985
Believe it or not, they were on the same stage together.
At a major Army-Air Force training exercise at Fort Bragg/Pope AFB, there they were. President Ronald Reagan and the one and only Bob Hope, a fantastic supporter of those serving our country in uniform and one of the greatest comedians ever.
Their good-natured banter about their respective ages was easy, warm, and genuinely funny. Reagan was beloved by the military. And there will never be another Bob Hope, not for those of us who served.
I had the honor to be in that audience.
Not bad for a geezer from Flushing.
Jolson. Thomson. Zero Mostel. Barbra. Sammy. Two presidents and Bob Hope.
Unforgettable.
Enuf.
