|
Frank, Ava and Me -
Part 1
I had been at the helm of
The Harry Martin Show on KLAC for a couple of weeks when Frank Sinatra
walked into the patio looking for me. I know this reads as being
pretentious but it is true. He said so.
“Harry,” he exclaimed,
his famous blue eyes shining on me. “I am Frank Sinatra.” He took my
hand and asked, ”How is Gale Patrick’s box?” I almost shrank through the
holes in my shoes. He had heard me doing baseball color and caught me in
the biggest gaffe in my career.
The week prior while
substituting for Gary Goodwin at Gilmore Field for the Hollywood Stars
baseball game with Seattle I had been asked by Jack Sherman the regular
play caller to lead off the game and do play by play while he returned
from the dugout from an interview with one of the players.
“Sure.” I said, like I
was an old play by play man.. I had played it all my life on sand lots
of Galveston so it was going to be a snap. It was Triple A ball but
major league Hollywood Stars like Groucho Marx, Milton Berle, Gene
Autrey, and Gail Patrick a gorgeous movie star and television producer
had boxes at the baselines. Now, armed with this bit of trivia, I
launched into the game with aplomb. The first at bats had been a routine
grounder to short stop and relayed to first. Fine. I was into the flow
of the game. Then Jim Baxis, the Hollywood Stars Third Baseman came up
to bat. I will tell you word for word what I said, “Jim Baxis is up..
And here’s the pitch by Wilson and Baxis sends a screaming line drive
right into Gail Patrick’s box.”
For those among you who are not familiar with the archaic term “box.” It
was used in those days to describe a woman’s private parts. Word flew
around KLAC the following day about my faux pas but before I could be
blown out of my baseball career, Gary Goodwin returned from his hiatus
as the regular color man and took over.
I thought it had blown over when Frank led off with this embarrassing.
opening salvo. Then he placed a hand on my shoulder, “That’s okay,
Harry. I’ve had more embarrassing times than that.” I doubted it but was
willing to let him save the moment. That moment began what was to be a
warm relationship between us.
Frank had heard me praising him on my show . I was unabashed in my
admiration for him and often played several of his songs on a single
show. Songs such “All or Nothing at All” “If You Are But a Dream.” “I
Couldn’t Sleep a Wink Last Night.” “. In fact, I played all of his 78’s,
ones that he had sung under the reverend guidance of conductor Axel
Stordahl.. On the air, I had marveled at his breath control, how he
could sustain a note forever sliding from one phrase to another without
pausing for breath.
I had coffee with Frank that first day at Coffee Dan’s on Vine, the
beginning of a long series of visits with him usually every two weeks..
We talked music, nothing personal about him. I knew instinctively to
stay away from his personal life. I knew he was still married to Nancy
and had had a long love affair with Ava Gardner but the tabloids had
written that they had broken up. Don Otis had walked into Coffee Dan’s
that first time when I was with Frank and strongly advised me later that
day to avoid mentioning Ava to Frank.
I only wanted to talk about music anyway. Frank loved jazz and was glad
to hear me play Kenton. He was expansive about Stan Kenton and said that
June Christy had been hired by Kenton because she sounded like a brass
instrument. He did say that his one big unfulfilled ambition was to
conduct a band. I had heard that Frank was broke and couldn’t get a gig
so I always paid.. My revelations about Frank and his love for and taste
in music are well chronicled so I will not dwell on this except that my
visits with him instilled in me a feel for music that I did not know
existed.
A month into our visits, a troubling thing happened. As I mentioned
,part of my duties was to board op for a major jock who had not quite
gotten the hang of the board. I sat in a studio adjoining his in a
studio separated by a large window .I had visual contact with him in
addition to a squawk box intercom through which he gave me instructions
on what to play.
That day, about an hour into the show, I looked up and saw this
apparition standing in the doorway looking at me. The swan neck. The
alabaster skin. The green feline eyes and those cheek bones. It was Ava
Gardner. She paralyzed me with a smile and glided into the next studio
where the big time jock sat. Then she ...
(to be continued next
Tuesday)
Previously ...
"It's Like Nat Cole is
Still Alive"
"Frank Sinatra, the Man and
his Music"
"How KYW's "Martin and Howard"
Saved the Beatles concert in Cleveland"
|
