Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man

  The next number was Tappie Lou Norris, doing an interpretive dance to the poem “Trees.” Tappie Lou leaped out on the stage, but the spotlight worker missed half her leaps so all the audience saw was an occasional arm or leg. I knew how the spotlight worker must have felt. I had done the same thing once, but on top of that, the spotlight was so dim you could hardly see her at all. I figured it must be mood lighting, or else the whole electrical system was off. Then I began to sweat thinking about my number. It would be impossible to do comedy in the dark. Tappie Lou finally finished and the minute she was done, she grabbed me and said, “Was I all right?” Then she grabbed everybody else she saw and said, “Was I all right?” Everyone said, “Yes, you were great.” Nobody had the heart to tell her the audience didn’t see her.

  The next number was Robbie Sue Spears, with an original monologue about a dead baby. She was doing fine until the mike started going on and off. By this time Margaret Poole, who was performing next, was standing by me, waiting to get the neck mike from Robbie Sue. Her number was a scene from Gone with the Wind. When she heard the way the mike was working, she started having a fit. Poor Robbie Sue came off, and Margaret nearly choked her to death trying to get that mike from her.

  The stagehands put her prop box of dirt in the middle of the stage, and the emcee announced her. She finally got the mike on and as she started to make her entrance, she turned to the stagehand and said, “You better get this fucking mike to working.” Well, evidently someone had gotten the f—ing mike to working because the whole audience heard what she said. As a matter of fact, the volume on that mike was so loud all during her number that the only thing you could hear was all the rocks rattling in that box of dirt she was digging around in. When she got to the part where she says, “I swear, I’ll never go hungry again,” she about blew the audience away. People sat there with their fingers in their ears. I was getting more and more nervous because I was on next and I had to use the same mike.

  She was so upset by the time she finished that she went off the other side of the stage and forgot to give me the mike. They were already setting up my table and chair, and now it was my turn to panic. I started to run around to the other side, but thank goodness the stagehand found another mike and got it on me just in time. Somebody had fixed the spotlight and when I went out, it came on as bright as everything. I did my number and it went over great! After I finished with my last line, “Protect your heart as you would your other vital organs. Bye bye,” they clapped and clapped until I had to take a second bow. I’m sure it wasn’t me. It was just the first talent number they could see and hear.

  I came off, and Darcy and Mary and Jo Ellen and Penny all grabbed me and hugged me and nearly squeezed me to death. Linda Horton was next, and her number went off without a hitch. They had finally got everything fixed. She played “Love Is Where You Find It” on the marimba. I couldn’t see all of it because I had to run and change back into my evening gown for the awarding of the scholarships.

  When I returned, Darcy said I had missed the funniest number yet. Willima Sue Sockwell, the ventriloquist, started doing her routine, but the mouth of her dummy became stuck and all that moved were the eyes. The audience hated her. Janice Bell, the girl who jumped rope and tap-danced, had been fine but hadn’t got nearly as much applause as I had. Jeannie Prior was onstage at the moment, showing her paintings and telling a story about them. Only thing wrong was that two of the paintings were upside down.

  Kay Bob Benson was standing in the wings waiting to twirl to “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” and looking cool as a cucumber. An American flag would come down at the finish as she twirled her batons around her neck and behind her back. The audience would love it.

  Those stagehands had been hanging around her all day at rehearsal. They were crazy about her on account of that skimpy costume, and two or three ran up to her before she went on and shook her hand and wished her luck. She always was popular with the men. You should have heard the audience applaud when she strutted out in her Uncle Sam outfit. The music began and she flashed the audience one of her phony smiles and started twirling. But all of a sudden those batons flew right out of her hands. She couldn’t seem to hold onto them for nothing. She kept slinging them everywhere and running after them and picking them up. She wasn’t able to hold on long enough even to light her fire batons. I didn’t believe it. One finally flew out of her hand into the audience and hit some boy. He picked it up and threw it right back at her. She was frantic. The flag dropped down on cue as the music ended, and she hadn’t twirled a baton yet. The curtain fell and the stage manager ran over and told us to get in line on the stage for the awarding of the scholarships.

  We were all in our places when the curtain went back up. Some woman who was head of the Scholarship Committee was introduced and said how pleased she was to be there, passing out the awards. They had given almost all of them away when finally the woman announced the winner of the scholarship to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, Robbie Sue Spears, the girl who did the original monologue about the dead baby. The curtain dropped and I hadn’t won anything.

  I was very hurt. I thought my talent number was pretty good, and Darcy and the rest of them were mad as hell. They claimed Mrs. McClay had just done it for spite because she knew that I was their friend. I told them not to worry about it, she was mad at me for something else. When I thought about letting down all the people who had worked so hard to get me to the pageant, I wanted to crawl under a rock. While I was considering not going back to Hattiesburg, just disappearing off the face of the earth, we were all pushed back onstage to get ready for the winners to be announced. By this time I wanted to leave, but I had to stay for the end of the show to sing “There Goes Miss Mississippi” like we rehearsed. I was in no mood to sing to Margaret Poole, I’ll tell you that.

  This was the point in the pageant when the judges go into the manager’s office and sit for ten minutes or so and pretend they are picking out the winner. Darcy said all they did was go in there and drink. We waited and waited, and pretty soon half an hour had gone by. Finally, the stage manager came out and said we could sit down. The audience was getting restless and started to stomp their feet and yell. After another twenty minutes, we got a signal to stand up and take our positions on the stage so we would look like the outline of the state of Mississippi.

  The curtain rose and the audience was sure glad to see us. The emcee brought out last year’s Miss Mississippi, who spoke about how wonderful her reign had been, how she would never forget her year in the pageant and how the most wonderful part of the pageant for her had not been the money or the crown but the wonderful girls she met and how she would treasure their friendship forever. Darcy had told me she was so stuck up she wouldn’t speak to anybody. When she was through with her dumb speech, she turned around and faced us and we all had to curtsy to her. Puke! Then she made her “farewell walk” around the runway. I looked backstage and Darcy and Mary were giving her the finger.

  Next the emcee introduced the judges to the audience, and he introduced Mrs. McClay, too, but she wasn’t there. Instead, Mr. Henry came up onstage and said a few words about how difficult it had been to judge this year because all the girls had been so pretty. He gave the emcee the envelope with the names of the five finalists in it, and the emcee called a drum roll and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you have all been waiting for” … drum roll … “The names of the five finalists in the Miss Mississippi Pageant are” … drum roll …

  “Miss Kay Bob Benson” … applause, applause … I don’t know how she had the nerve to show her face after throwing those batons all over the stage like that, but she prissed down there like the Queen of Sheba … drum roll … “Miss Janice Bell” … applause, applause … She was the one who jumped rope and tap-danced … drum roll … “Miss Linda Horton” … applause, applause … She played “Love Is Where You Find It” on the marimba … I was surprised she got in the finals because she is cross-eyed … drum roll
… “Miss Daisy Fay Harper” … applause, applause … Miss Daisy Fay Harper?! I nearly dropped dead. They had called my name. I just stood there and Darcy yelled from the wings, “Move your ass!” I moved. The audience was yelling and screaming. The emcee had to wait forever to announce the name of the fifth finalist … drum roll … “Miss Margaret Poole” … mild applause. I couldn’t believe I had made the finals. There was a slipup somewhere, that’s for sure. I was thrilled because the fourth runner-up gets $500, and that would be plenty of money to get me to New York. Yeaaa!

  Then the emcee said, “And now, ladies and gentlemen, comes the question-and-answer period and it is at this time that our judges will be judging for personality and poise. Remember, one of these lovely girls will be going to Atlantic City and will be representing the state of Mississippi in the eyes of the nation. Kay Bob, your question is this: If you had a fairy godmother and she could grant you one wish, and one wish only, what would it be?”

  Kay Bob stood there and thought for a while looking real sincere, then leaned over in the mike and said, “If I had one wish, I would wish that everybody all over the world would learn to love each other, and that there would never be another war, so no more mothers would lose their sons in battle, and there would be peace on earth forever.” I thought she was going to pull out her American flag next, but I had to admit it was a good answer worth second runner-up at least.

  Then the emcee brought Linda Horton up and said, “Linda, who is the woman you admire most in the world and why?” She said, “Mamie Eisenhower.” He said, “Why?” And she thought hard and said, “Because she married a great man.” She blew it. That audience was full of Democrats.

  Janice Bell was next. He said, “Janice, your question is: If you could fulfill your fondest ambitions, what would they be?”

  She said, “It would be to become a good wife and mother, because that is the highest thing a woman can strive for.” The audience liked that. She must be a Rainbow Girl.

  I didn’t have too much time to think before my name was called. I went over and he said, “Daisy, I understand that you want to be an actress.” I told him yes. I was hoping that was my question, but he kept on going. He said, “If you could play any part in any play, what part would you choose?” I didn’t even have to think about that one, remembering my experience in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I said, “A Big One!” The audience roared. I heard Darcy and them laughing backstage.

  Margaret Poole came next. He said, “Margaret, who do you consider the most important man in the world today and why?” She just jumped right in with the answer before he even finished “I think that Billy Graham is the most important man in the world today because he’s spreading the gospel all over the United States, Canada and the world, and that is the most important thing a person can ever do in this life.” You can’t tell me she didn’t know what he was going to ask her. The audience applauded, but they always applaud when you say Billy Graham.

  The emcee said, “Thank you, Margaret. Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the question-and-answer period. Let’s have a big hand for our five lovely finalists.” Applause, applause. “And now while the judges are busy making their final decisions as to who will be the next Miss Mississippi, we will award one of the most coveted awards of the pageant … Miss Congeniality.… This is the award that the girls vote on themselves, who they feel has been the friendliest and most helpful contestant throughout pageant week. And to present this Miss Congeniality Award, may I introduce Mr. Frank Self, the acting past president of the Jaycees.”

  Frank Self came out and gave a long-winded speech about how happy the Jaycees were to sponsor such a fine pageant, and so on and so forth. While this was going on, I looked down in the judges’ box. They were fighting like crazy over a piece of paper. Mrs. Buchanan grabbed it out of Mr. Swanley’s hand and ripped it in half. Then Reverend Deady grabbed the other half. You should have heard the noise they were making. When Mr. Self announced the winner … it was Darcy. Now she had her collection of four Miss Congeniality statuettes. Four is a record!

  After that was over, the emcee looked towards the judges and said, “Have the judges reached a decision please?” But they weren’t even listening. He had to repeat the question. Finally, Mrs. Buchanan looked up and screamed, “NO!” and went back to arguing. The emcee had to sing a song to kill time, and we stood there and waited while the judges fought it out. I heard one of them say, “You go to hell, you bitch.” Finally, Mr. Henry, who had his boutonniere ripped right off him, ran up onstage and threw a piece of paper at the emcee.

  The emcee said, “Thank you judges! Ladies and gentlemen, the judges have reached a final decision, and this is the moment we have all been waiting for, a moment when—” but he didn’t get to finish his speech because some man in the audience yelled out, “Get on with it!” So he did. “Ladies and gentlemen, the fourth runner-up in the Miss Mississippi Pageant, and the winner of a five-hundred-dollar cash award scholarship and an Elgin seventeen-jewel ladies’ wristwatch, supplied by Couch’s Jewelry Store, is” … drum roll … “Miss Janice Bell.” Applause, applause. I knew she had blown it with Mamie Eisenhower and I was sorry for her, but then I realized that I had a chance to win $1,000. This was getting exciting!

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the third runner-up in the Miss Mississippi Contest and the recipient of a one-thousand-dollar cash scholarship award plus” … drum roll … “a portrait from Robert Boutwell’s photographic studio, valued at five hundred dollars” … another drum roll … I was holding my breath, hoping to get my $1,000, when he said, “Miss Kay Bob Benson.” Applause, applause. You could have knocked me over with a toothpick. Then it dawned on me that I was going to win more money.

  The audience was going crazy by this time and so was I. I couldn’t believe I was still in it. Then he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, the second runner-up to Miss Mississippi and the winner of the most coveted award in the pageant, an all-expense paid scholarship to the famous Pasadena Playhouse in Hollywood, California, and” … drum roll … “a guarantee of a part in the network television show Death Valley Days” … drum roll … “Linda Horton” … applause … I was amazed. I thought why in the world would they send a marimba player to the Pasadena Playhouse? But I stopped thinking because I looked around and there were just two of us left on the stage, Margaret Poole and me, and she grabbed the hand I had Momma’s ring on and squeezed it so hard all I could think about was pain. The audience was getting wild.

  The emcee said in a hushed voice, “The next award is that of the first runner-up and it is the most important award, second only to that of Miss Mississippi, because at any time during the coming year, if Miss Mississippi cannot fulfill her duties, the first runner-up will take over the title and reign as Queen. Ladies and gentlemen, the first runner-up and the winner of a fifteen-hundred-dollar cash award” … drum roll … “plus a brand new twenty-six-inch official Miss America television console, and a complete wardrobe from Banlon and” … drum roll … “an all-expense paid trip to New York City for a Broadway audition” … when I heard that I almost died, I was going to New York after all … “Miss Margaret Poole.” The audience went insane. They were so happy for her they stood up and yelled and cheered and started jumping up and down. And then it hit me. They weren’t screaming for Margaret Poole. They were screaming for me.

  SHIT … I WAS MISS MISSISSIPPI!!

  Everybody was going crazy. All of a sudden they grabbed hold of me and somebody handed me a dozen roses and threw a red cape around me, and the ex-Miss Mississippi slammed a crown on my head and pushed me out on the runway, but I just stood there stunned. I couldn’t move a step. People were screaming and they were singing “There Goes Miss Mississippi.” From backstage I heard Darcy: “Don’t just stand there, move, you asshole!”

  I don’t remember much after that. I was in such a state of shock that I forgot and mashed hell out of those velvet roses. I had to stay there for about two hours while they took my picture for the
paper and the television. When it was all over, this man from the Jaycees told me I had an official Miss Mississippi car waiting outside to take me back to my hotel. But I remembered to run out in the alley and there stood Mr. Smith, my cabdriver, with his hat in his hands waiting on me. He’d been there for two hours. He was as happy for me as anybody. I went back in and told those Jaycees I had come in a cab and I was going home in a cab.

  I called Daddy and Jimmy Snow to tell them and they were beside themselves. They had already heard it on the television news, where there was a picture of me and everything. The pageant has arranged to fly me home. I still can’t believe it. I am going to Atlantic City in September and be in the Miss America Contest!

  August 11, 1959

  I flew home today; all day yesterday was spent having my picture taken and making arrangements with the Jaycees about getting to Atlantic City in September. When we finished, a group of them took me to the airport this morning and as I walked in, I saw my cabdriver, Mr. Smith, hiding in a corner by the baggage. I went over to him and he said he was waiting for a fare, but I knew he had just come out there to see me off. He seemed embarrassed and wished me luck. I hadn’t been in the air five minutes when it dawned on me who Mr. Smith had reminded me of. That man’s name wasn’t Mr. Smith at all. He was my Granddaddy Pettibone, who everyone had thought was dead!