A Starlet’s Story -Europe.pdf

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A
Starlet’s
Story
EUROPE
Selene Walters
Copyright © 2016 by Selene Walters Lamm.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016919440
ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-5245-6264-9
Softcover 978-1-5245-6263-2
eBook 978-1-5245-6262-5
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval
system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Rev. date: 12/07/2016
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Europe 1973
August 3
rd
(Friday) NEW YORK.
Took all day to repack and deposit 2 large pieces of luggage and many odds and ends with Mrs. Gloria
Denham, including several coats and a typewriter, with my dear friend Frank.
Rained hard all day. Kept listening to weather reports via radio & TV — hoping for clear weather. Am
very uneasy and never relaxed in planes.
Airport limousine called for passengers at my hotel (Roosevelt) and Frank & I waited patiently. The
rain subsided and turned into a storm - a virtual sauna.
The ride to the Kennedy Airport was hellish. Never have I experienced such a nightmare! Sped on a
wet, slick freeway - darting in & out of cars like an Indianapolis speed racer - same time playing hideous
rock music at a deafening pitch. Tailgating behind every car and slamming on brakes at least a �½ dozen
times! I was so ill when we finally arrived at the Olympic Airways terminal, I had to take two aspirins.
Frank was also burned to a crisp, and we both agreed not to give that greaseball a dime in tip. The
driver was furious, of course, but Frank gave him where to — and I added my 2 cents.
My ticket was negotiated through my very good & longtime friend, Mr. Costa Gratsos, who is business
partners with Aristotle Onassis and Johnny Meyer.
In 1949, I sailed on one of Mr. Gratsos’ cargo ships, the SS Audrey (named after his mistress), and of
course, as one of his guests. Since that was my first trip to Europe - and had such resounding success -
met the Shah of Iran and consequently continued on for a Palace visit in Teheran - Costa never quite got
over that, and ever since then, my “status” soared in his book.
Johnny Meyer is Onassis’ right hand man, and our friendship dates back to my Hollywood starlet days -
when Johnny was aid-de-camp emeritus to the legendary billionaire Howard Hughes. Johnny did in fact
introduce me to Howard Hughes, and like many other beautiful, young starlets at the time, went out with
Mr. Hughes frequently.
Johnny Meyer is an ace public relations man - bar none. He felt that extremely beautiful girls should
meet & hopefully marry America’s millionaires. And he was very popular - as he is witty and super-
intelligent. His forte was putting together deals. Everyone benefitted. And so, as the years went on and so
many of us scattered, some disappeared, Johnny steadily went to work for one billionaire after the other.
It was a happy and warm experience being in Costa’s executive suite on the penthouse of 888 7
th
Avenue. I had no appointment - not wanting to make one - but was ushered in instantly to the inner-
sanction. Costa looked the same - perennial pipe and a very thick Greek accent. We talked for an hour,
and he called for Johnny Meyer to come down to his office immediately. Then, the three of us embraced
and recalled many happy times of the past, when the world was more glamorous - and clubs & elegant
restaurants reigned supreme.
So my Olympic Airline trip was ticketed 1
st
class but at a great reduction.
To show my appreciation I went to Cartier and bought two small sterling silver picture frames - for the
desks of Mr. Gratsos & Johnny Meyer.
Frank & I enjoyed the lavish and well-stocked bar in the V
.I.P. lounge - for all 1
st
class passengers.
Although neither of us like alcohol, we settled for soda.
At 9:45 p.m. my flight was called. Out of nowhere appeared a flunky to help carry on my luggage, as I
had the privilege of being allowed all the luggage I wanted - at no charge.
Frank went to the gate of the plane & was not allowed further. I simply stepped from a velvety carpeted
room - right into the floor of the plane. My seat was up front and had much leg room. I said a silent prayer
- thought of my loved ones - and at exactly 10 p.m. we rolled down the runway. Seconds later we were
climbing - climbing - and leaving the bright lights of New York far behind.
Non Fumeurs signs were over each door. “No Smoking.” The air in the plane was pristine clean -
smelled like the posh scent of Madame Coco Chanel’s couture house on Rue Cambon - Paris.
How delightful! A touch of Paris already.
Soon as we were aloft - the very attractive air hostesses began to serve sparkling French champagne in
delicate, shimmering crystal stemmed glasses. There was also a portable steel chrome bar with all known
whiskies - scotch - etc.
Then, Iranian caviar was served in large crystal & silver bowls - then - snowy white damask linen
table cloths were spread on trays before each passenger. Sterling silver - salade verte - and chateaubriand
butter in shape of flowers - a gourmet’s delight. A liqueur was served, coffee & dessert.
After that came a color movie. Jasper with Patricia Neal. So-so. Then suddenly, I glanced across the
aisle and saw the sky lighting up! It was growing steadily lighter every second. It was precisely 1 a.m.
New York time! Of course, we were flying towards the sun and it was already morning - as we soared
across the heavens at 550 miles per hour! Soon as it grew lighter & lighter, I smelled fresh coffee perking!
My stars! Is it possible? Have we streaked across the sky already? And, the flight was so very smooth -
not a bump! It was a delight!
We started dipping down through the clouds, and the pilot announced we were over London. By the
time I looked out my window - we weren’t within 30 minutes, we were streaking down the runway at
Orly Airport - Paris!
It was a clear, cool morning and exactly 9 a.m. on the dot! Again - pure magic. I stepped right out of the
blue-carpeted luxury Olympic Airlines plane into a modern, elongated room - English signs posted
everywhere - as it is clear to all world travelers that English is now the universal language! At one time,
French held that prestige. No more.
Orly Airport was a mass of humanity, I had never seen so many travelers! It seemed like 50,000 people
were all coming & going!
However, I collected my luggage instantly & since I could not score up a porter, piled my luggage onto
a steel cart & wheeled it to customs. The French inspector waved me on - didn’t look at a thing. Taking
full advantage of my good luck, I zoomed on out of the glass electric doors to a waiting taxi.
The driver loaded in my luggage & we sped on. The Hilton Hotel was only one block from the Orly
Airport - & at first, I thought I should try to stay there the night, as I had been invited already for cocktails
& dinner by one of the men passengers, but I decided that could be a costly few hours. I was sure - even if
I could have gotten accommodations - it would cost me at least $25.00 to sleep there one night - & I still
would have problems with all my luggage. And so, I decided it would be prudent to speed straight to St.
Lazare Station in the Montparnasse, because my fast train to Deauville left from there early next morning.
So I had cashed $10.00 into francs at the airport, thinking it would be sufficient to pay the taxi but - lo! &
behold! The taxi driver demanded the entire $10.00! I nearly fainted, but I had to give it to him. Then, I
had $1.00 to give a railroad porter to check my luggage overnight & he would not touch my $1.00! Wow!
How times have changed! The recent devaluation of the American dollar had sunk to a new low. I could
see that from here on in- I had better look out, as the money was simply disappearing from my hands! I
had to go immediately to the foreign exchange window at St. Lazare - & wait in line 45 minutes to cash
$30.00 more into francs. Then I paid the porter dix franc note ($2.00) - and another dix franc to the
baggage check - $2.00 for the overnight check - I had just spent $4.00 again - Wow!
With my makeup kit - & pajamas I set out on foot to locate a small hotel nearby. No point in trying to
live it up in big style that 1
st
night in Paris, early next morning I must catch the train for Deauville.
I checked into the first little hotel I saw. And, it was across the street - right in front of the St. Lazare
Station! So, I was lucky - because for one night, I found a lovely room avec bath facing the station - 33

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