The Black Stiletto: Stars & Stripes (23 page)

I had another mystery to solve!

S
EPTEMBER 11, 1960

The Black Stiletto was nearly blown away this evening, dear diary! And I don't mean by a gun, but by Mother Nature!

The weather started getting stormy while I was at HQ. The radio announcer said Hurricane Donna was headed toward New York, but I really didn't pay much attention to it. I was more excited by other news—Mr. Dudley told us that the Kennedy Girls would make an “emergency” appearance in
three days
! Kennedy will be in town and they want us to do something with him. I don't know what it is yet, but supposedly our costumes will be here in the nick of time. Gosh, I hope mine fits. I'm the tallest girl in the bunch.

When I got home, it was pouring down rain, but stupid me, I was too suspicious and curious about Michael and that other guy and that Packard on Bayard Street to stay put. I put on the Stiletto outfit and went out my bedroom window, just like usual. I could tell the wind was stronger than usual during a typical rainstorm, but I didn't let that stop me. Sure, I got wet, but that's nothing new. The leather on my outfit repels water, and I don't get soaked to the bone. Well, normally I don't.

As I crossed the roofs to the telephone pole, I knew it wasn't going to be an easy night out. The wind was
strong
. But I made it to the street and began the trek to Chinatown. There were still cars on the roads, but most people had gone inside. The few pedestrians I saw ran about with broken umbrellas, unsuccessfully tried to flag down taxis, and huddled in doorways. Dear diary, it was difficult to move against the wind and rain, but I eventually got to Bayard Street.

The Packard was still parked in the same spot. I looked in the windows but couldn't see a darned thing because of the rain. It just kept getting worse. That's when I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. What the heck was I doing? What did I hope to accomplish? I guess in the back of my mind I thought I might catch Michael or his passenger buddy or maybe the first driver whose face I never saw getting
in the car, or maybe I'd see where they lived. What were the chances of that happening? About a million to one!

So I turned around and headed home, but within minutes the storm had doubled in intensity. It was a
hurricane
and I was in the middle of it! Cars pulled over to the curbs to wait it out, that's how bad it was. Debris blew all around me—trash, tree branches, pieces of metal—it was
dangerous
! Just crossing Bowery took a superhuman effort. The resistance against my body may as well have been a brick wall. I fell down twice and slid in what was essentially a
river
flowing down the street. Managing to pull myself up, I crawled to the other side and rested in a doorway. I considered staying there, but it was obvious the hurricane was just growing worse. The sky was black with clouds. Street lights went out. I heard windows breaking. And then I saw an empty
bicycle
flying through the air. It crashed against a parked taxi.

I had to get home. There was no way I could stay outside. There were no other pedestrians
anywhere
. I swear the wind was strong enough to pick up a human and fling him like a bug. I've never seen anything like it.

Hugging the fronts of buildings, I slowly moved north along Bowery, clutching anything I could to anchor myself. Dear diary, it was even hard to
breathe
! It felt like I was inhaling nothing but water. I couldn't see three feet in front of me. It was a good thing I knew the direction, for I may as well have been blind.

At Grand Street or Broome Street—I don't know which one!— I turned east. Bowery had acted like a tunnel for the storm because of its width. The wind wasn't as bad on the east-west streets, but it was still a monster. Then I got to Chrystie. The eastern side of the street is a park, Sara Roosevelt Park, and it's full of trees. Those trees were bent at an
angle
and served as sources for projectiles of loose branches and garbage. Like Bowery, Chrystie was a north-south street and therefore also served as a funnel for the storm. But it was my only way home. Once again, I faced inward and clung to edges of storefronts in order to move forward.

Crossing Houston Street was a challenge. I've never been on rapids before, but that's what it was like. A torrent of water rushed westward from the East River. It came up to my thighs! The only thing I could do was get into it, fight the force, and struggle to the other side. At one point I lost my footing and the water carried me like a log for several yards until I managed to upright myself and dig my boots into the street below. I trudged forward until I was safely across Houston. Only two short blocks to go.

When I got to 1st Street, something hit me on the side of the head. I have no idea what it was. It hurt and stunned me for a few seconds, but I believe my leather hood protected me from the worst of the blow. I stopped to get my bearings in a doorway on the east side of 2nd Avenue. It wasn't far now. But how the heck was I going to climb the stupid telephone pole, traipse across the roofs, and climb in my window? There was no way I could do that.

So I did the only thing possible. When I got to the Second Avenue Gym, I buzzed for Freddie. I banged on the front door. I shouted for him. I pushed the buzzer button again. I banged again. Over and over.
Finally,
I saw the lights go on inside. Freddie, my savior, appeared, with a look of shock on his face. He opened the door and I practically
fell
inside, panting and, it turned out, bleeding from a small cut on my head.

Dear diary, Freddie was
so
mad. Instead of saying, “Judy, how are you?” he yelled at me. “What the
hell
are you doing? You stupid, stupid girl!”

He helped me up and I started crying. I hadn't realized how scared I was out in the storm until that moment. I guess he brought the reality of my foolishness home. I told him I was sorry, that I'd made a mistake, but he kept berating me.

“You could have been killed! And what are you doing coming in the front door in your goddamned costume? You could've been seen!”

“Freddie, there's no one on the street. No one saw me.”

“You crazy girl, I was
worried
about you!” He helped me pull off
my mask and walked me upstairs. “I knocked on your door to say, ‘look out the window, can you believe this?' and you were
gone
! I was afraid you'd get blown away to kingdom come!”

“Or Oz,” I tried to joke.

“It's not funny! Don't you
ever, ever
do that again!”

I apologized again as he sat me down and doctored the wound on my head. It wasn't much, but there was a little hole in my hood. I'll have to sew it up.

Finally, Freddie gave me a hug and said he was glad I was all right. I kissed his cheek and we made up, and then I went to my room to peel off my wet outfit and get into a warm bed.

Hurricane Donna is still raging as I write this, but I assume we'll all still be here tomorrow. I hope.

Good night.

S
EPTEMBER 13, 1960

Hurricane Donna did a lot of damage, especially in Long Island. In the city it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. Everything was wet for a day, there were some broken windows, and a lot of garbage was in the streets. Electric power was out for a while and just came on today. Freddie and I had to use candles in the apartment last night, and most businesses were closed yesterday and today. We kept the gym open, but hardly anyone showed up. Clark came for his training session, so that kept me busy for a couple of hours. Because work was so light, Freddie gave me the rest of the day off. I think he felt bad about yelling at me the other night.

I took a walk outside to survey the destruction. Of course, I found myself walking to Chinatown, but as Judy Cooper I didn't have anything to fear. Shops and restaurants were starting to open. Naturally, I passed through Bayard Street. The black Packard was parked in the same block, although the driver would have to move it sometime that day for street cleaning. I loitered in some of the shops around there on the chance that I might see one of the guys get in the car. There was a restaurant open across the street, so I went in, sat at a table by the window, and had hot and sour soup, an egg roll, and beef with broccoli. No one ever showed up to move the car. After I ate, I gave up and went home.

Why the heck do I care? Why am I so suspicious? I know why— it's because the reason Michael stopped seeing me had something to do with his conversation with the driver that day.

Oh well. I better get some rest for the big day tomorrow. Judy Cooper, Kennedy Girl, will make her debut!

S
EPTEMBER 14, 1960

Oh, my gosh, dear diary,
what a day!

I met John F. Kennedy!!

I swear, if he wasn't married, I'd be all over him. He is so handsome and charming. He even
spoke
to me! I was so flustered I probably sounded like an idiot, but for a few minutes I was in heaven.

The day started at HQ. All the Kennedy Girls arrived at 9:00 to put on the costumes. They're cute sleeveless cotton dresses with fitted waists and A-line skirts that just cover the knee. They have a red-and-white striped ticking, so with the navy cummerbunds inscribed with “Kennedy” in white letters, we look like walking American flags. We also got white “straw” hats made out of Styrofoam. They also have navy bands. We supplied our own white gloves, of course, but the campaign gave us fake white pearl necklaces that were surprisingly pretty. Shoes were totally up to us as long as they were high heels. Once we were all dressed, Mr. Patton and Mr. Dudley took photographs. I have to admit that Louise looked stunning. Even though she's a little short on smarts, she could win a beauty pageant hands down. Betty looked great, and she told me I did, too. When I gazed in the mirror, I thought, “Hmm. Not bad at all,” if I do say so myself.

Kennedy was set to arrive at LaGuardia Airport between 12 and 1:00. He was coming in from St. Louis. We were sent to meet him at the Commodore Hotel at Lexington and 42nd Street. The Women's Division of the Democratic State Committee was sponsoring a luncheon there. People had to pay a lot of money for tickets,
and there were around 4,000 attendees, mostly women. The Kennedy Girls got to attend for free.

The anticipation in the banquet room as we waited for Kennedy was excruciating. My heart was beating like a sparrow's. I kept whispering to Betty, “When's he going to be here? When's he going to be here?” She told me I sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl, ha ha.

Finally,
he arrived, and oh, my gosh, it was like seeing a movie star in person. He was all smiles and looked wonderful in a sporty fall suit. Everyone stood, applauded, and cheered when he entered. He sat at a table with the head of the committee and other people on his campaign team. The Kennedy Girls had their own table nearby. I was so close to him I could've thrown a roll at him! After the senator ate, Mr. Dudley gave us the signal, and the Girls stood and formed a line behind the podium. Someone introduced Kennedy, he stood, and approached the podium, but first he gave us a big smile, and said, “Hi, girls!” Everyone applauded and laughed. Then we sat while he gave a brief speech.

I have to say I felt really good about myself at that moment.

Around 2:45, Mr. Dudley and Mrs. Bernstein hustled us into a van with just enough seats for them and the eight girls. HQ had rented it for the day. We were let out at City Center on W. 55th Street for a senior citizens' rally on medical care. The street was
packed
with old people! Mr. Dudley said there were at least 4000 of them, all carrying “Kennedy/Johnson” signs and cheering. Once again, the eight Girls stood in a line behind Kennedy when he addressed the crowd. He gave us that trademark smile of his and introduced us as
his
Kennedy Girls and said, “Aren't they wonderful?” We waved and blew kisses at the crowd.

We were done there around 4:15 p.m. After his talk, they rushed the senator into a limousine and he was off to the Waldorf-Astoria for a private fund-raising reception in the Jansen Suite, thrown by Bill Brandt, the Democratic state campaign chairman.

As we were about to leave City Center, some sweet old guy at
the rally asked me out to dinner. A little fellow next to him said, “Don't pay attention to Mort, come have a drink with
me
!” Then a couple of other seniors chimed in. They were
all
flirting with the Girls. It was pretty funny. I said, “Maybe next time, Mort,” and then we piled into the van.

It took a while to get to the Waldorf because there was a big crowd of people outside hoping to see the senator. We didn't get to go to the reception. It was for VIPs only, so we were told to wait in the Waldorf lobby. Mitch, Alice, Chip, Karen, and a few other workers showed up because there was another big rally scheduled at 5:00, sponsored by Citizens for Kennedy. All the volunteers in the New York campaign office were helping put it on.

Just before the rally, though, Kennedy came down to the lobby from the reception and stepped outside to Park Avenue—and by then there were
thousands
of people on the street! It was incredible. In just thirty minutes the number had increased tenfold. The Girls did an impromptu appearance, too. Mr. Dudley quickly rounded us up and herded us out the doors to stand behind the senator as he waved to the crowd.

Then it was time to go to the Grand Ballroom, where the rally was being held. Chip said there were 5,000 people packed inside. This time the Girls were on stage with Choo Choo and a piano behind the podium. We were going to sing “High Hopes” when the senator was finished with yet another speech.

Well, dear diary, I was listening to his talk and looking out into the audience—when I nearly jumped out of my skin. I saw
Michael
in the crowd on the floor. At least I thought I did. It sure looked like him. He was standing about a third of the way back from the stage. The strange thing was that he wasn't focused on Kennedy the way everyone else was. Instead, he was gazing up at the boxes on the sides of the ballroom. Michael seemed more interested in the room itself than in Kennedy's speech.