A Moment In The Spotlight

Many of you have read my writings on Katrina and most certainly have ascertained that I would have to be of a certain age and you would be correct. I have given clues to my age simply by recalling things from a time many of you have only heard about. So once again I am going to tell you a story. The year was 1971, the 18th of July... our fourth child was due in August. My husband's brother asked him to go floundering with him. Because my husband probably felt a little guilty leaving me, he came up with the bright idea that we all go and not wanting to disappoint everyone .. I agreed. It would be nice sitting on the beach in the evening. We were a party of four adults and six rambunctous kids. Within a few minutes I realized I should have stayed home, I wasn't feeling well. Any of you women that have had children would know how cumbersome I was at 8 months, right? Well, as it turns out I was actually 9 months. I assumed the guys had checked the rising and falling of the tides. You flounder when the tide is out, surely they did that. I was sitting in a lawn chair when the obviously unexpected tide came in. I found myself no longer on the beach... I was surrounded by gulf water but still seated in the chair.*** My husband and his brother came in a flash and got me to shore. They surrounded me on both sides and picked me up from the chair and lifted me until my feet weren't even in the water.*** I didn't know it then of course but that was to be my first experience with how fast water can come to shore. My baby was born three days later and she was the one I would later call my little fishing buddy. I was in the hospital for a week not from complications from being in the water but from other factors that were present.

I told the above story to get to the one I am going to tell you now. The office had a Christmas party each year and l hadn't recovered enough to attend so my husband said when I was well he would take me out for a night on the town. My night out was a long time in coming but in the spring of 1972 he made reservations in Biloxi to take me to dinner and dancing. The entertainer would be Morey Amsterdam, a comic, on the Dick Van Dyke show. I had been "cooped" up so long that I was literally bubbling. Morey didn't get off to a good start with the crowd because he said when he came through Biloxi the first thing he saw were masoleums and that the town was just as dead. He said, "What do you people do around here for entertainment?" No laughter, not even a giggle, came from the people. I am quite sure I laughed because I was still bubbling, everything was exciting. The audience finally warmed up and enjoyed his performance. Here's what happened. I thought his act was over so trying to beat the onslaught of the crowd I jumped up from the table and dashed toward Morey and before I could say a word to him a huge beam of white light came from the ceiling and encircled Morey and me. I couldn't leave as the light was so bright that I couldn't see how to leave. Should I make a blind run for it anyway and maybe with any luck I would come out at the EXIT or should I just stand here smiling? Maybe the crowd will think I was planted in the audience and I am part of his act. If only I could sing but Morey wasn't singing . I could dance but Morey wasn't dancing either. He stood there as though he was waiting for a longhandled giant hook that would jerk this crazy woman out of HIS spotlight. Without turning my head, I rolled my eyes to the left to look at Morey and all I can say is that Morey Amsterdam was not a happy camper. Shoot! All I wanted was to shake his hand!

When I returned to our table, although my husband was sitting somewhat lower in his seat, he acknowledged that he knew me and laughingly said, "WHAT did you do?"

***Obviously I was in fanasty land when I talked about how my husband and his brother rescued me from the rising gulf tide. Here's the real story. They scooped up the kids and ran for the "new shoreline". Because of my condition, I couldn't run. On reaching the shore they began talking and laughing in loud voices so I suppose that when I called for help it would have sounded like, "help"! So I folded the lawn chair and tucked it under my arm with my strapped purse hanging from my shoulder. Another bag that contained snacks, dry clothes and shoes, I carried in my right arm. The tide comes in rough swells, I was moving slowly so I wouldn't be knocked off my feet. I reached the shore breathing heavily and shivering from being soaked to the skin. When my husband saw me, his expression was one of belated recognition that I hadn't been among the rescued. Although I had both feet firmly planted on land he attempted a rescue anyway by saying, "Ruth, where have you been, let me help you!" He gently placed a WET towel over my shivering shoulders as I stood there still holding all the "stuff" I carried to shore. Amazingly, women think their men are special no matter how tarnished their armor becomes . I did too! ***