Sammy Davis Jr(40)
Our room overlooked the plaza with a panoramic view of the Casino de Monte-Carlo. The Casino was designed by Charles Garnier, the architect of the Paris Opera House with beautiful frescoes and stained-glass windows. The Casino de Monte-Carlo was a far cry from the “anything goes” Las Vegas casinos. We would sit on the balcony and watch people come and go night after night, dressed to the nines.
Dad’s suite at the Hôtel de Paris, oh my gosh! It overlooked the entire French Riviera and the Prince’s palace. Breathtaking. We sat out on the balcony for hours chatting away amidst the royal spirit, glitz, and glamour that was Monaco.
Dad would throw out his infamous joke, “Do you know why I stay in this beautiful hotel?” “No, Pop,” I would reply. “Because I can,” Pop would say on key. We fell out laughing each and every time. But there was power behind his laugh. Never far from my father’s mind was the fact that there was a time when he couldn’t stay in beautiful hotels. Not just because of money, but because of the color of his skin. I think Pop always threw out his joke as a way of giving thanks to God.
Dad and Bruce Forsyth got together for an hour-long television special in 1980. Forsyth later said, “The best TV show I ever did was with Sammy Davis, Jr. I played for him when he sang, he played for me when I sang, and when people come to visit now and I show them the tape, it still stands up as a good show.”
I thought this was one of Pop’s funniest TV appearances—on The Jeffersons (with Isabel Sanford) in 1984.
Dad performed in Monaco and brought down the house. We were invited to the palace for dinner after the show. Wow, you cannot overdress for a dinner at the palace. It was about two in the morning, I think. Tiny tealight candles lit the path we strolled down. We dined outside, French Riviera style with Prince Rainier, Princess Caroline, Lynn Wyatt, a socialite from Texas, and other notable guests.
I sat next to Princess Caroline. I still struggle to describe my awe. I say it to this day—she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen—her skin, her eyes, just striking. When I saw Princess Caroline, I thought, there are women and there are ladies. She was a lady in the true definition of the word.
Princess Caroline spoke perfect French and English, and who knows how many other languages. She was so composed at the table, such a fine hostess, made each guest feel special, like she had known us for years. Princess Caroline had a way of involving her guests in conversation that was beyond skilled; it was a true talent.
She asked me, “You and your husband have been together a long time. Are you thinking of children?” I stammered. How do you reply to a princess? Umm, oh don’t say umm, I thought. She sensed me lost in her charming spell, and gracefully broke in, “There is never a perfect time for children—just have them, treasure them.” All I could think of was, okay, Princess, yes Princess, so I nodded politely.
Another memorable trip I took with my father and my husband was to the White House in 1987. My father was the recipient of a Kennedy Center Honor. At the ceremony he would be honored by his closest friends, including Lucille Ball, who had come to the house over the years for my father’s home-cooked gourmet meals.
Dad had slept at the White House previously, as a guest under former President Nixon. Pop has been credited by the Nixon administration for what is now a tradition, the POW dinner. In 1987, he headed back to the White House, as a guest of President Ronald Reagan and Vice President George H. W. Bush. The Kennedy Center Honors would be a three-day extravaganza. My father could not have been more proud.
We arrived in Washington aboard Bill Cosby’s Gulf Stream jet, the Camille, named after his wife. Mr. Cosby had loaned his jet to Dad for the occasion, staffed with a private chef. From Van Nuys, California, we flew to St. Louis, where my father had to perform, then on to D.C. We flew by the beautiful arch. When I told Pop I didn’t see it too well, he had the pilot circle again. Pretty cool.
In D.C., my father gave us our own limo. He wanted a driver to take us wherever we wanted to tour for the duration of the stay. The driver took my husband and me to the Ritz-Carlton hotel, where Kennedy Center honorees and other guests were gathered. You could not walk anywhere in the Ritz without bumping into someone famous—it was surreal. Soon it was time for the main event.
“Can’t be late,” Dad always said, “it’s bad form.” Driving up to the White House, we were nervous. The protocol alone scared us, not to mention the security and receiving line. There was a cocktail party for Dad and other Kennedy Center honorees in the East Room, including the great Bette Davis, who was so beautiful. My husband and I were the only ones that weren’t famous. The pristine food spread was incredible. The president and first lady greeted each honoree privately, in a separate room.