I was afraid
to tell him that it had started all over again. I was so disgusted; I went into
the bathroom and took my father's sleeping pills.
I woke up with my mother shaking me and crying, "Get up, get up.
Rose Marie, please get up." It was nine o'clock the next night. Bobby had
started calling at 7:30 and kept calling every fifteen minutes. Finally he
said, "Put her on the phone. Get her up, call the doctor. Don't you know
what she's done? Put her on the phone."
My mother tried to get me up. I was so groggy I almost fell down the
stairs. I got to the phone and said, "Halloo...."
Bobby said, "Are you all right?"
I said, "Yeah, I guess so.... I'm so sleepy."
He said, "Make your mother call Dr. Verdon right away and try to
stay awake. Please, darling, stay awake."
I hung up the phone and passed out again. The next thing I knew,
Doc Verdon was talking to me and saying, "Come on now, Rose Marie,
open your eyes. You're okay now"
I looked at him and smiled.
He said, "Come on, honey, have a cup of tea."
I sat up in my bed and I was feeling a little better.
He told my mother, "She'll be all right now, but for God's sake, what ever the reason is she did this for, tell her everything is fine... and keep
telling her."
My mother said, "All right."
He went downstairs, where my father, who couldn't have cared less,
was reading the paper.
He looked up and said, "How is she, Doc?"
Dr. Verdon said, "She's fine now. There's no telling if she will try this
again. Whatever it is, stop torturing her. Give her a chance to overcome
this. I'm warning you... she had to be very desperate to do this. I'll call
tomorrow and see how she is...and by the way, she's still a virgin!"
I didn't know what was going on in New York. Schrib told me he had
had to hold Bobby down and sit on him. He was fighting mad, crying, and
had a big kitchen knife in his hand, saying, "I'll kill that son of a bitch .... I'll
kill him, so help me God." Buddy Moreno, a band singer in the army with
Bobby, was with Schrib and said the two of them sat on Bobby until he
calmed down.
Schrib kept saying, "She's all right.... Everything will be fine.... Take
it easy." You have to know that Bobby was Irish-English, but more Irish
than "Paddy's Pig." When he got mad, he was a tiger. He once told me that
he had hit a kid in school with a baseball bat. The poor kid almost died.
When he heard that the kid was going to be all right, Bobby swore he
would never lose his temper again. I guess he forgot in this case. I can't say
as I blame him.
Things got a little quiet after this episode. In two days, I was fine. I
spoke to Bobby on the phone every day and neither he, nor I, nor anyone
else ever mentioned the incident. It was peaceful for a change. My father
said as little as possible to me.
When I was feeling better, I brought my gowns over to Max's to be
repaired and cleaned. I told him I would let him know when I would pick
them up.
I had another set of three Perry Como shows to do. It seemed that
whenever I was scheduled to do Perry's show, something tragic or dramatic
usually happened. I wondered if it would be the same this time. The last
time I was to do his show was in April 1945. I went to the studio and
nobody was there. It seemed like everybody had left town. I couldn't find a
soul. Something had happened-something bad. I finally found a woman
in one of the offices and she was crying.
I asked, "What's going on? Where's the Como show?"
She said, "President Roosevelt has died."
Oh.! My god.... The President is dead. I thought of the time I sang for
him. I think I was about six years old. After the show we went into his
office and I spied some poker chips.
He said, "Do you like to play with those?"
I said, "Oh yes," and sat down on the floor with the chips.
He pulled up his wheelchair and picked me up and said, "You're a
very lovely child and you sing very well."
I remember I said, "Thank you," and went back to playing
to tell him that it had started all over again. I was so disgusted; I went into
the bathroom and took my father's sleeping pills.
I woke up with my mother shaking me and crying, "Get up, get up.
Rose Marie, please get up." It was nine o'clock the next night. Bobby had
started calling at 7:30 and kept calling every fifteen minutes. Finally he
said, "Put her on the phone. Get her up, call the doctor. Don't you know
what she's done? Put her on the phone."
My mother tried to get me up. I was so groggy I almost fell down the
stairs. I got to the phone and said, "Halloo...."
Bobby said, "Are you all right?"
I said, "Yeah, I guess so.... I'm so sleepy."
He said, "Make your mother call Dr. Verdon right away and try to
stay awake. Please, darling, stay awake."
I hung up the phone and passed out again. The next thing I knew,
Doc Verdon was talking to me and saying, "Come on now, Rose Marie,
open your eyes. You're okay now"
I looked at him and smiled.
He said, "Come on, honey, have a cup of tea."
I sat up in my bed and I was feeling a little better.
He told my mother, "She'll be all right now, but for God's sake, what ever the reason is she did this for, tell her everything is fine... and keep
telling her."
My mother said, "All right."
He went downstairs, where my father, who couldn't have cared less,
was reading the paper.
He looked up and said, "How is she, Doc?"
Dr. Verdon said, "She's fine now. There's no telling if she will try this
again. Whatever it is, stop torturing her. Give her a chance to overcome
this. I'm warning you... she had to be very desperate to do this. I'll call
tomorrow and see how she is...and by the way, she's still a virgin!"
I didn't know what was going on in New York. Schrib told me he had
had to hold Bobby down and sit on him. He was fighting mad, crying, and
had a big kitchen knife in his hand, saying, "I'll kill that son of a bitch .... I'll
kill him, so help me God." Buddy Moreno, a band singer in the army with
Bobby, was with Schrib and said the two of them sat on Bobby until he
calmed down.
Schrib kept saying, "She's all right.... Everything will be fine.... Take
it easy." You have to know that Bobby was Irish-English, but more Irish
than "Paddy's Pig." When he got mad, he was a tiger. He once told me that
he had hit a kid in school with a baseball bat. The poor kid almost died.
When he heard that the kid was going to be all right, Bobby swore he
would never lose his temper again. I guess he forgot in this case. I can't say
as I blame him.
Things got a little quiet after this episode. In two days, I was fine. I
spoke to Bobby on the phone every day and neither he, nor I, nor anyone
else ever mentioned the incident. It was peaceful for a change. My father
said as little as possible to me.
When I was feeling better, I brought my gowns over to Max's to be
repaired and cleaned. I told him I would let him know when I would pick
them up.
I had another set of three Perry Como shows to do. It seemed that
whenever I was scheduled to do Perry's show, something tragic or dramatic
usually happened. I wondered if it would be the same this time. The last
time I was to do his show was in April 1945. I went to the studio and
nobody was there. It seemed like everybody had left town. I couldn't find a
soul. Something had happened-something bad. I finally found a woman
in one of the offices and she was crying.
I asked, "What's going on? Where's the Como show?"
She said, "President Roosevelt has died."
Oh.! My god.... The President is dead. I thought of the time I sang for
him. I think I was about six years old. After the show we went into his
office and I spied some poker chips.
He said, "Do you like to play with those?"
I said, "Oh yes," and sat down on the floor with the chips.
He pulled up his wheelchair and picked me up and said, "You're a
very lovely child and you sing very well."
I remember I said, "Thank you," and went back to playing
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