11. RESCUING DODIE

THE AIRLINE EXEC 

LIVING AS LELA MAY'S HOSTAGE

In the late autumn of 1962, Dodie was 15 and living alone with Lela May in the Drexel house.

Several years earlier, Lela May wanted to escape from working but Grandma was determined to see her be 'active'.  Lela May had been nagged into seeking employment and had succeeded in landing several jobs, but never lasted in any of them more than a week or two.

Grandma tried to force her to do more to help her buy houses, renovate them, and then flip them for far more than she paid.  I was still going to those work sites after school and on weekends, and helping Dodie and Uncle Paul with the renovation work and I was getting paid for it.  Lela May was 'conspicuous by her absence' in coming up with excuses why she couldn't help.

Finally, Grandma gave up.  Lela May wanted to leave and take Dodie with her so that she could get the pension checks from the government that were designated for Dodie's care.  By using Dodie's money and the rent from the east side of the duplex, she could scrape by without doing a lick of work while she and Dodie lived in squalor in the west side.

THE EXEC GOLD CARD

Meanwhile, I had succeeded beyond anything I could imagine by reaching executive level in the airline industry at a time when there were only 4 female airline execs in the world.  And I was by far the youngest.  One of the 'perks' of being an executive was that I could fly free on that airline anytime I  had time off., and I could take one relative or spouse with me.   I also could get tickets on our interline friends (other airlines) for one-fourth of the regular fare.

I went to Texas to celebrate and saw for myself how Lela May and Dodie were living.  I invited Dodie to come back with me to New York and discuss moving there to live with me.  Despite Lela May's vigorous protests, I succeeded in getting Dodie on a plane to New York.  She had a week off between semesters in January and flew to New York.  I met her at Idylwild Airport and took her to my apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR:

I had many friends in New York City, most of whom I had met through my position with the airline, and most of them fairly wealthy.  No boyfriends, of course, because I was lording it over everyone that I was a female airline exec and not interested in giving up all that glory to go be someone's trophy wife.  But my best pals were all men and they were eager to help me rescue that poor child from the wretched mess she was living in.  As a result, we had a whole week of activities planned for her.

First, I took her to see the Julliard School and urged her to put together a portfolio of her work that I could submit there with an application to be accepted as a student.  We talked about how, if she was accepted, she could live with me, take the bus to school each day, and I would pay her tuition fees.  She was excited by the idea but had so little confidence in her own talent and abilities, that she didn't act on that idea immediately.  My violinist friend, Tony, who was with the New York Philharmonic had a girlfriend on the faculty there and was willing to get her an interview.  But - Dodie was too overwhelmed by the culture shock of being in New York to do much other than freeze like a deer in the headlights.

THE ASSISTANT D.A. COMES TO THE RESCUE:

Another friend, Tony, was the Assistant D.A. in Brooklyn at the time.  He said I should ease off and "let the kid have some fun" while she was in New York.  He set up a party for us out in Brooklyn where his best friends and 'family' members hung out.

When we walked in the place that evening, Dodie noticed that all the names of the people there were Italian.  We were treated to the most incredible Italian food I had ever tasted (until I met Mario), and we stuffed ourselves.  No one seemed to know exactly how to get a conversation going with her because she was so shy and somewhat in awe of what was happening.

So, Tony got a great idea and said, "Dodie, you are a teenager,  You must know all these new dances that are out there now.  Why don't you give us old guys a break and teach us those dances?  We'll feed the jukebox if you tell us which ones to play."

Next thing you know, Dodie was on the little dance floor surrounded by a group of 'goodfellows', teaching them how to dance the Mashed Potatoes while Monster Mash blared on the jukebox.  She covered every dance that had music on the jukebox and rocked the whole place.

They all treated her like a little sister and were very kind to her.  She had a hell of a good time that evening although she did suspect that at least one of them had a gun under his jacket.

THE MILLIONAIRE PENTHOUSE

Another good friend was a top exec of a major airline engine parts corporation.  He had a penthouse suite in a deluxe apartment building on Sutton Place South.  In terms of real estate, this was like owning Board Walk in a Monopoly Game.

He decided to throw a party for her and really show her was New York was all about.  He asked me in advance what she liked to eat and he had a huge slab of ribs barbequing on his terrace.

He sent his stretch limousine to pick up us.  When Dodie saw the chauffeur in his uniform, she assumed that was my friend.  Then we were shown into the backseat and informed that the champagne was in the ice bucket, the window behind the driver rolled up, and Dodie was speechless.

When we got to the Penthouse, my friend immediately asked her what kind of music she really liked and she said, "folk music" - which was very much in vogue at the time.  He said, "OK, give me a few minutes".  He picked up the phone, made a call to somewhere in Manhattan, and said, "about 20 minutes - try some ribs while we are waiting".

About a half hour later, while we were still licking the sauce off our fingers, the doorbell rang and in walked Pete Seeger with his guitar.  He proceeded to sit on the floor next to Dodie and play some of his hits, especially from his days with the Weavers, and we all sang along.

Dodie was reeling from the experience and chattered like a monkey on speed all the way back to my apartment.

I had to explain that I had gotten in with a group, mostly Broadway actresses and actors, plus these other friends, who played Bridge once a week and we played for money.  I was notorious as a sharp Bridge player and much in demand as a partner for those games.  I always made sure I had a partner I could "read" easily - rather like Grandma and her talent for mind-reading - and had a lot of friends in New York as a result.

THE JET SET EXPERIENCE

I used my Gold Card to fly us to Puerto Rico the next day and once again, it was a new experience for her, flying First Class.  My friend, the sales manager at the El San Juan Hotel & Casino in San Juan had comped me for a beautiful suite on the top floor looking out at the Caribbean.

I took her to the Gift Shop and got her a one-piece black tank style bathing suit.  OMG, Dodie at 16 had a figure that rivaled Marilyn Monroe.  But I had a serious date with the blackjack table and so I turned her loose on her own to 'go take a swim, enjoy the pool, sign for everything on the room tab and meet me back here at 8 for dinner."   I do not know what went on out on that beach, but I am sure no one believed she was only 16.  When she got back she was excited and a bit scared, too.  I think she got a lot more attention than she knew how to handle.  I still blame myself for leaving her out there alone.

RUNNING SCARED:

After we got back to New York, I tried to talk her into staying.  Apparently, she had some boyfriend (I think his name was Junior, or Butch, or some other good-old-boy name).  She had been on the phone with him and with her friend, Sara Lee.  Both of them had pleaded with her to come back.  She said she was homesick and felt like she was way out of her depth in New York.  I reluctantly put her on a plane back to San Antonio.

You all know the rest of it.  She went back to Lela May who just let her run wild.  She got a new boyfriend, Paul O'Neal.  And got pregnant.  When I found out, I flew to San Antonio and offered to take her to Puerto Rico for a fast, safe, abortion, no questions asked.  She flatly refused.  She insisted on marrying that %$#& O'Neal, no matter what I offered.  So I took her to Vogue (on Houston Street), bought her a white dress to wear for the wedding, and gave up on rescuing her.