Some last words of Pope John Paul II were, "I asked for you and you have come. Thank you."
Somehow I think he meant all of us.
So today I have come, to thank God, and to thank Pope John Paul II, and all concerned for the miracle of sitting on the front row of the White House lawn 20 feet away from His Holiness and President Carter on Oct. 6, 1979, in answer to desperate cry for help only 24 house earlier alone in my room at Rosewell.
I'm sure His Holiness wants you to know that God's eye is on the sparrow and his eye is on you when you least expect it.
That October morning, I could not put on my shoes. In five months, I had lost my husband to divorce, my son and my mother to death. I had thrown away my crutch, alcohol, and tried to work and smile again with faith and joy.
Grief has its price, sometimes the price of physical immobility.
Alone in the house I cried out, "God you just have to do something about this!" I had never been angry with God.
The phone rang. It was John Y . Brown Sr., who was depressed because his son John Y. Jr., running for governor, wouldn't let him speak at a banquet in Harlan County, where John Sr. had saved the miners.
"I'm not even going to fly him to Washington to see the pope tomorrow," he told me. I begged John to take me with him and he said, "Honey, the security is closed." I made him promise that if I got security clearance he would let me fly with them. "Call me at Col. Sanders' house tonight if you do," he said.
My nephew by marriage, Lemuel Hewes of Atlanta, was in the law firm of then-Attorney General Griffin Bell, so I called him.
"Griffin Bell can't get you in but my roommate from Vanderbilt, Jack Watson, is liaison for the pope's visit," he said.
In 16 minutes the phone rang. "This is the White House. Mr. Watson said for you to be at the South Gate at noon tomorrow with the Brown party. Your name is on the list to see the pope."
Lem phoned from Atlanta. "Jack called your name out on Air Force One," he laughed.
I had to call John Y. Sr. at Col. Sanders. His number was unlisted, but I remembered his secretary had called me a few months earlier to request the name of an artist to paint the colonel's portrait and I found it.
"How on earth did you get this number," John Y. said. "OK, be at Bowman Field tomorrow at 8 a.m."
At the South Gate we stood in line for hours until the Secret Service opened the gates. A huge crowd of 40,000 people was gathered on the lawn. John Y. Sr. walked right up to the front row and found a Marine guard who asked us to hold two empty seats there for Clark Clifford and his wife next to Averell Harriman and his wife Pamela.
The Harrimans and Clark Clifford came. The Marine said, "Mrs. Clifford is ill so we want Mrs. Brown to sit in her place."
Later I found out that the pope's emissary selected me because I was wearing a deep red Adele Simpson ultra-suede coat and skirt, long enough to cover my legs, which were further covered up with black Italian Ferragamo boots. Black and red are the papal colors. My seat was directly in front of the pope, who did not approve of American short skirts.
"Were you that lady in red and black?" asked Lem later when he saw the TV coverage.
Opera singer Leontyne Price of Laurel, Miss., sang a moving and eloquent "The Lord's Prayer." Then President Carter, who once wanted to become a minister, said a prayer that lasted so long I peeped up to see the pope's reaction. His head was bowed as I raised my Nikon. Through the lens I saw his finger raised at me in remonstrance, his head shaking "naughty, naughty," but a smile in his eyes. I shrugged as if to say "Your Holiness, the president is talking too much" and the pope smiled and nodded agreement.
Imagine having a silent conversation with the pope!
Behind the audience was a platform about 200 feet away, filled with the leading photographers of the world: London Times, Paris Match, LIFE magazine, etc. And there I was from The Voice of St. Matthews taking pictures for you.
The pope blessed the White House, recently rocked by the Nixon scandal and resignation. All around us sat 7,000 religious leaders of the world. One thousand priests had attended Mass at St. Matthews Cathedral that morning celebrated by Pope John Paul II.
The audience was swept away by the eloquence of the pope who blessed us all. It was the first time he had visited the United States. Washington was the last stop on his tour of six American cities.
After his address, the pope said, "After you, Mr. President," and ushered Carter ahead of him off the podium. I took that picture and sent it to President Carter. When Carter came to Louisville with Rosalyn, he said to me, "Thank you for that picture. How could I have done that! I am so embarrassed!"
Johnny and Phyllis joined a reception line to greet the pope in the White House afterward. "He asked about Col. Sanders," Johnny told me. "He said he likes the Colonel because he too dresses in a white suit."
I could see the pope's shoes because I sat directly beneath him. They were little red velvet bedroom slippers.
The plane home stopped in Covington to see David Vance, one of Johnny's friends. "How does it feel to be blessed by the pope?" he asked.
Being blessed by the pope is a spiritual gift that stays with you for life. My faith has been unshakable, and I have been filled with gratitude ever since.
On the way to work this week, I wondered if I should call attention to myself with this column. At 103 Blankenbaker Lane, I saw two little white weeping cherry trees in bloom, the sunlight behind them, looking like two little girls making their First Communion.
I saw myself in them at 9 years old at St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church in Mississippi, making my First Communion. I am writing this for that little girl who dreamed of seeing the pope.
Humana Fest party
The Humana Festival of New American Plays at Actors Theater of Louisville has been a tremendous success this year. The attending writers, playwrights, media, actresses, actors, critics, foreign press, and other fans have flocked to Louisville for this stellar artistic and dramatic week/files/storyimages/that has made ATL famous all over the world.
Southern hospitality is the hallmark and visitors go home with glowing reports of Louisville hosts and hostesses who open their homes to give lovely parties for them complete with ATL board members and staff to make them feel appreciated and welcome.
Attorney Pat Ballard, who bought the beautiful Victorian home on Peterson Avenue formerly occupied by Jon Jory, former director of Actors Theatre, and was hostess to a lovely and lavish cocktail party on March 3.
Pat greeted her guests in cocktail attire of silk pants the color of her candy pink magnolia tree in bloom, with a black silk top, her fabulous figure like a life-sized Barbie doll. In her guest powder room downstairs there is a linen towel hand embroidered with "I HATE BARBIE - SHE HAS EVERYTHING!"
Pat needn't worry; she is the hostess with the mostest and she has everything! She showed me around before the party began - outside is a lovely hand-upholstered wrought fountain in the shape of butterflies hovering over the water; a screened porch with swing and awning striped wicker furniture; a pink suede love seat in the hallway by a copy of an antique French phone on a gold stand right out of a Parisian vintage movie; beautiful antique chest of tortoise and black lacquer; oversized sofas and chairs in a large living room with a famous artist's nude in pale colors; a knockout kitchen in maple and stainless steel; and a vast Art Nouveau glass and mirrored dressing room/bath upstairs with a sunken marble tub - gorgeous!
The house is perfect for entertaining, with so many rooms - the flow everyone loves from inside/outside, and small cozy corners to big spaces. Eighty-plus guests made a perfect number. Silver Spoon Catering outdid itself with chicken satay on toothpicks with luscious white chicken breast skewered with fresh pineapple and sweet and sour sauce; luscious tiny crab cakes the best I've ever had; pan fried oysters with remoulade sauce; beef tenderloin on buns and country ham on angel biscuits; an artistically presented array of crudities, fruits and cheese; and tiny desserts Kentucky (style rich chocolate, tiny tarts, lemon squares, etc.)
The Actors Theatre top brass there included director Marc Masterson and his wife Patti Melvin; Frazier Mash, production manager; Christen Boone; Jason Czaja; Pablo Holmes, Darnell Johnson, Tanya Palmer, company doctor Dr. Andrew Mickler, Ashleigh Pugh, company manager, Kyle Schmidt, and costume designer Lorraine Venberg, and general manager James Roemer and Christen McDonough.
Dr. Larry Meyers of St. John's University Total Theater, in New York, playwright and professor at the university, posed for me with his fri/files/storyimages/of many years, Louisville's Charles Whaley of Totaltheatre.com/CurtainUp.com/Courier-Journal, who lives on Cherokee Road.
Larry recently made the famous celebrity gossip section of the New York Post's "Page Six" with this item:
"Tragic Play
"Though the relief effort is barely under way following the devastating earthquake in Asia last week, playwright Larry Myers has already crafted a play about the tragedy. 'The Next Tsunami' is the last installment in Myers' 'Red & Blue States Hunger' drama cycle, which also includes the Florida hurricane survivor piece 'Fabian Is a Hurricane Now.' Myers tells us, 'Florida was a squall compared to this catastrophe.' "
Larry is coming to the Mary Anderson Center this summer to work on a play about Tennessee Williams.
The playwright of "Moot the Messenger," fabulous Kia Corthron was there with Bob Ari, cast member who plays the part of a managing editor of a newspaper. Cortes Nance Jr. is also in the cast. From Italy came Mario Fratti, Bureau chief of Facts.
Actors Theatre board members on hand were: Neville Blakemore, Dick Rivers, Sara Fuller, Ted Rosky, Kathryn Higgins, C. Tyson Gorman, Bruce Merrick and Josh Lindley. Pat's son Bill Ballard III was there.
Other distinguished guests were: critic Glenn Loney, Judy Lynn Prince of Arena Stage, Brian Smith of Lookinglass Theater, playwright Carla Wallace, Lauren Stevens of her own company, Lauren Stevens Production, Tamilla Woodward in the cast of "Moot the Messenger," Andrea Dymond of Victory Gardens Theater and Patrick Welsh of Bittners.
