Tag Archives: Name Dropping Challenge

Name-Dropping Confession # 8

From Bruce Bishop

I was trying to think of a famous person(s) who I’ve met to add to your blog post, but only three came to mind from when I was in my 20s. I was a waiter in Toronto and served the singer k.d. lang; author Margaret Atwood; and British actor Michael York.
When I was in my last year of university in Halifax, I was the Arts Faculty representative. I booked ‘Mandrake the Magician’ to give the students and faculty a show…The poor man was so elderly and frail at the time, his performance was less than magical, and quite underwhelming, to say the least. That was in 1975!
Judy’s Note:  Leon Mandrake, a real-life magician, had been performing for well over ten years before Lee Falk introduced the comic strip character. Thus, he is sometimes thought to have been the source for the origin of the strip. Leon Mandrake, like the fictional Mandrake, was also known for his top hat, pencil-line mustache, and scarlet-lined cape. Ironically, Leon Mandrake had changed his stage name to Mandrake to match the popular strip and then legally changed his surname from Giglio to Mandrake later. The resemblance between the comic-strip hero and the real-life magician was close enough to allow Leon to at least passively allow the illusion that the strip was based on his stage persona.[7] Leon Mandrake was accompanied by Narda, his first wife and stage assistant, named after a similar character, who appears in the strip. Velvet, his replacement assistant and eventual lifetime partner, would also later make appearances in the strip along with his real-life side-kick, Lothar

Name-Dropping: My Confession #6

A while ago, I issued a challenge for people to tell me about their unusual meetings with famous people. I said that once enough people had told their stories, that I would tell mine. I’ve been publishing their stories as they tell them and now I’m ready to tell mine. I actually have another one I’ll tell once I hear a few more of yours as well!!

One of the first gringos I met when I moved to Mexico in 2001 was Betty Petersen, who was a wonderful artist and a great fan of the song “Coo Coo Roo Coo Coo Paloma.” One day in 2005, she asked me to join her for lunch at the Hotel Real de Chapala because her favorite mariachi band was playing there and since she had gifted their leader with a portrait of himself years before, they always played the favorite song mentioned above for her.

We had been serenaded and were enjoying our meals when a man came in and sat down at a table next to ours.  He hadn’t been there long when he struck up a conversation with me, asking about whether I was visiting, as he was. I said no, I’d lived here since 2001 and after asking me a few questions, he began telling me about his life.

Since most of the details sounded rather implausible, I asked him his name, and when he told  it to me, I must admit it was even more implausible than his stories, for he was claiming to be Billie Sol Estes!

Yes, of course I knew who Billie Sol Estes was, but I must say that little as I would ever imagine meeting him, it seemed even less plausible that I’d meet him in Ajijic, Mexico! Sensing I didn’t believe him, he then pulled out his book, which had just been published, and proceeded to tell even more outlandish stories, dropping names like JFK and Lyndon Johnson–at one point insisting that he had proof that Johnson had had Kennedy assassinated, saying Dorothy Kilgallen had been murdered because she had the proof of a further conspiracy in Kennedy’s murder.  All-in-all, he talked for over an hour, and when I got up to leave, he handed me a copy of his book. It was not until I got home that I opened it and saw what he had written inside.  (Since it took me some time to interpret his scrawl, I’ve written it out for you below.)

 

Yes, my jaw dropped when I read it, but not as much as it did when I read some of this other information about him online. This is part of an article that appeared concerning events that occurred after he had been indicted on a number of counts of fraud:

“Soon after the Estes indictments, however, Mr. Freeman, the agriculture secretary, disclosed that a key investigator on the case, Henry Marshall, had been found dead in Texas — bludgeoned on the head, with nearly fatal amounts of carbon monoxide in his bloodstream and five chest wounds from a single-shot bolt-action rifle. Local officials ruled it suicide, but the body was exhumed and the cause changed to homicide.Six other men tied to the case also died. Three perished in accidents, including a plane crash. Two were found in cars filled with carbon monoxide and were declared suicides. Mr. Estes’s accountant was also found dead in a car, with a rubber tube connecting its exhaust to the interior, suggesting suicide, but no poisonous gases were found in the body, and his death was attributed to a heart attack.In 1963, Mr. Estes was convicted on federal charges and sentenced to 15 years. A state conviction was overturned on grounds of prejudicial news coverage. After exhausting appeals and serving six years, he was paroled in 1971. In 1979, he was convicted of tax fraud and served four more years. He was released in 1983. A year later, in what he called a voluntary statement to clear the record, Mr. Estes told a Texas grand jury that Johnson, as vice president in 1961, had ordered that Mr. Marshall be killed to prevent him from disclosing Johnson’s ties to the Estes conspiracies. He said a Johnson aide, Malcolm Wallace, had shot him. The Justice Department asked Mr. Estes for more information, and the response was explosive. For a pardon and immunity from prosecution, he promised to detail eight killings arranged by Johnson, including the Kennedy assassination. He said that Mr. Wallace had not only persuaded Jack Ruby to recruit Lee Harvey Oswald, but that Mr. Wallace had also fired a shot in Dallas that hit the president. Mr. Estes also claimed knowledge of a White House plan to kill Fidel Castro and a plot by the former Teamster boss Jimmy Hoffa to kill Robert Kennedy. Mr. Estes reiterated his allegations in a book, “JFK, the Last Standing Man” (2003), written with William Reymond, as well as his own memoir, “Billie Sol Estes: A Texas Legend” (2004). As with similar allegations in books, articles and documentaries over the years, none of the Estes claims could be proven. Johnson had died in 1973, and everyone else, except Mr. Estes, was also dead.

In case you are wondering, no, I was not Billie Sol Estes’ mistress. I had never seen him before our encounter in 2005. Nor did I ever see him again.  He died on May 14, 2013.

Please rest assured that I am not supporting the truth of anything he said.  Just reading what he had written inside the book he gave to me made me fairly sure that I would take anything he said with an entire box of salt!!!!

Name-Dropping Confessions #5 — From Dolly at Koolkosherkitchen

The assignment was to tell a story about an unusual meeting with a famous person. I love this one!!!

Due to the nature of my work in the old country, I’ve had to work with quite a few famous people (please don’t see it as bragging – it was my job!). When the Perestroika opened the borders, they started trickling here one by one to perform. I have many stories of their first encounters with America, but I think the funniest was the visit of the late great MIchail Zhvanetsky, the foremost Russian satirist, who always requested my borscht when he came to Miami. Having enjoyed the borscht, this time he wanted to be taken to one of the restaurants “with Spanish music” on South Beach. We went to Il Paparazzi, famous for its Northern Italian cuisine, and I translated the menu. He wanted Veal Parmigiano. As soon as the wines were discussed and his choice presented, he requested that it be warmed up. That was a shock which the sommelier managed to bear with a smile because I explained that our guest had a slight throat coarseness after his show and needed warm red wine.
Then the food came. He demanded soy sauce – in a posh Italian restaurant. The Chef ran out of the kitchen, brandishing a ladle dripping with tomato sauce, screaming, “I am Chef Vittorio! There is no soy sauce in my restaurant!” By the time we calmed him down and explained that our guest was a Russian celebrity, who might be allowed his quirks, the veal was stone cold. Chef Vittorio, understanding the importance of international relations, sent someone to the nearby Japanese restaurant for soy sauce and prepared a brand new plate of Veal Parmigiano, delivered by the Chef himself with a flourish.

You replied to this comment.