Tragic Story, Happy Ending!
On the night before my debut, in June of 1960, my mother went out into the night down the driveway to the street after dark. The florist, Walter Sharon, who helped decorate the tents wanted her to see how they looked lighted at night. The tents were pink, dramatically illuminated by glittering small lights. They were hung with birdcages filled with flowers and each had a fake bird or two, adding to the glamor. It was “other-worldly,” the way the…
