Focus : Star Sightings--the Sequel

TV Times readers turned back the clocks when we asked them a few weeks ago to share their stories of Celebrity Encounters.

Many of our correspondents took the opportunity to reminisce about the old days of Hollywood.

The most-mentioned stars were John Wayne (including the time he wrote a check and a young salesclerk asked him for identification), Elizabeth Taylor and Lucille Ball. The most obscure? Robert V. Barron, a character actor who wrote us about others’ encounters with him.

Some writers recalled missed opportunities--about almost seeing Warren Beatty or just missing Tom Selleck. And a few took this as a chance to vent their spleens about encounters with stars who were less than friendly.

But the majority shared memorable stories about encountering stars. Here are some of our favorites:

THAT’S A FACT, JACK

While attending college in the ‘70s, I supported myself by delivering the evening Herald Examiner to homes in Bel-Air and Holmby Hills.

Often late for night classes, I was constantly seeking methods to save time on my paper route. I became quite adept at throwing newspapers into yards as I raced through the twisting roads.

But several of my customers required that I deliver their paper to the front door. One home had a long driveway that led to a large courtyard in front of the house. I used to speed up this driveway and use a “left hook” to fling the newspaper over the top of my Volkswagen.

In time I got to the point that I could hit the front door. One afternoon, just as I threw the paper at this door, it opened and there stood Jack Benny! The paper sailed past him, just missing his head. I slammed on my brakes, expecting to be yelled at, but instead . . . Mr. Benny struck his classic pose: He cupped his chin with one hand and his elbow with the other and didn’t say a word!

DAVID JAMES HALVER, Glendale

LEGAL EAGLES

On one particular eve last February, my parents--both attorneys--and I schlepped into the Glen Market, off Beverly Glen and Mulholland, to purchase some items for a Sunday barbecue.

Mom and Dad were tired, having spent a full day going through old legal files. As we took our place in line at the checkout counter, my mother made some joke to ease the tension--something to the effect that all “lawyer couples” have their down moments.

To which my father jokingly replied, “Oh, yeah, we’re just a regular Harry Hamlin and Susan Dey” . . . at which point the handsome gent next to my father removed his sunglasses, smiled warmly at my parents, and added: “Oh God, nothing could be worse than being Harry!”

Needless to say, it was none other than the “L.A. Law” star himself.

WENDY S. BEBER, West Los Angeles

DUKING IT OUT

I grew up in Newport Beach and lived for a time in Bay Shores, across the street from John Wayne. In spite of the fact that he was a big star, in our neighborhood he was just one of many, and the kids never made a fuss when they saw him.

One time when he was in his front yard, I went up to him and in my best “Duke” voice said, “Ya know Mr. Wayne I’ve been workin’ on impersonating you for about a year now and I think I’ve got it down.” At which he replied: “You’ll have to do it for me some time kid.”

DAN HANKS, Studio City

A THRILLER

Have you ever had the pleasure of helping your child sell peanuts at your office as a fund-raiser for school? It can be a real pain in the neck. After an incredibly exhausting day at work in Century City, I was patiently waiting for an elevator with my leftover cans of toffee peanuts in tow. Imagine my surprise when the elevator door opened and revealed Michael Jackson. I immediately stepped in and enthusiastically announced, “I know who you are and I love your music.”

Being the gentleman he is, Michael shyly thanked me and then asked what I had in the box. Feeling rather embarrassed, I mumbled, “They’re peanuts for my son’s fund-raiser at school.” He looked toward his bodyguard and said, “Hey, Joe likes this stuff. How many do you have left?” I eagerly said, “Each can is only $2 and I have eight left.”

At that precise moment, the elevator doors opened and he hastily handed me a $20 bill and I gave him eight cans of peanuts, box and all. Since there was a crowd of people forming, he had to make a fast getaway. I can proudly say I owe Michael Jackson $4 and when he wants to collect, I’ll be ready.

MICHELE SANDERS, Culver City

HAVE STEAK, WILL TRAVEL

My favorite encounter was years ago at a small local cafe known for its hearty breakfast steaks and frequented mostly by those trying to survive the previous night’s overindulgence. The sizzling steak plus a cool beer was reputed to set the morning straight.

I went with a friend who had introduced me to the place, just eager to get a solid breakfast and head up the coast to go surfing. We sat at the counter and placed our orders, asking for coffee instead of beer. Before we were handed our first mug the empty seat next to us was taken by Richard Boone. At that time he was riding the crest of popularity with his starring TV role in “Have Gun Will Travel.” I could almost hear the squeak of saddle leather as he sat down.

“It’s Paladin,” my friend whispered.

“I know, I know,” I answered, muffling my voice with a paper napkin.

The cook set a beer and steak in front of the famous TV star and waited.

“Gimme some ketchup,” Boone growled.

The cook looked slighted. Taking his apron he wiped at the condensation on the bottle and removed the cap. But he held the bottle back and, in a voice equally rough as Boone’s, stated, “You put ketchup on my steak and I break your wrist.”

Boone looked around the silenced room. I couldn’t believe someone was challenging one of TV’s most notable heroes.

Unconcerned, Boone took a swig from his beer. “The ketchup’s for your damn eggs, not the steak.”

MARK LEYSEN, Irvine

A DARLING RIDE

It happened a long time ago. While in New York on business, I returned to my hotel, the Waldorf-Astoria, late one evening, crossed the lobby and entered the elevator. There were five other passengers: four men and one woman, Zsa Zsa Gabor. I decided I was standing next to and figuratively rubbing shoulders with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

As the doors closed, and the elevator started its ascent, my eyes were fixed in an uncontrollable stare, defying the rules of proper social behavior. A moment later, at one of the lower floors, a pause to discharge one of the gentlemen. My attention was still riveted on Ms. Gabor. A few more floors, and two more gentlemen departed. I was still mesmerized. And then a third stop, and I was left alone in the cage with this breathtaking beauty.

As the doors closed, she turned, looked directly at me, gave me an enchanting smile, and with eyes twinkling, addressed me in her distinctive Hungarian accent, “Alone, at last.”

SHEL BERENY, Desert Hot Springs

A BONANZA SIGHTING

My “Starry Encounter” happened about 12 years ago when my late husband and I went out for an evening of fun at Hollywood Park race track. We were sitting in the club house eating dinner when a couple was seated right below us. They ordered dinner and when I took a good look, I realized it was Michael Landon and his wife.

I said to my husband, “That’s Michael Landon.” My husband looked down and said, “No it isn’t.” Insistent, I replied, “Yes it is, that’s Michael Landon and his wife.”

Mr. Landon and his wife were served their dinner. And once again my husband took a good look and said, “Naw, that’s not Michael Landon.” Smiling that boyish grin of his, Mr. Landon looked up and said “I am, too, and would you please pass the salt.”

JACKIE KELLY, Lomita

JOHN-BOY, I PRESUME?

About nine years ago, I was in a Los Feliz super-market and saw family man Richard Thomas doing some heavy-duty shopping.

A little boy of 6 or 7 said to him, “I know who you are.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” asked Thomas.

“You’re an actor,” the kid replied.

Richard Thomas and I exchanged glances and we both roared with laughter.

BOB CANNING, Burbank

A DUD DAY

Nothing has taught me to be on the lookout for stars more than the night a friend and I attended a showing of “Arthur 2: on the Rocks.” Throughout the entire film my friend and I discussed Dudley Moore’s poor performance. We tore him apart! When the lights came on we stood and turned to leave, only to discover Dudley had been sitting behind us the entire movie!

Now I understand why talking is not permitted in movie showings in L.A.

CARMINE R. MONTALTO, Van Nuys

MORE DUDLEY

While shopping at Boys Market in Marina del Rey in the mid-1980s late one night, I saw Susan Anton pushing Dudley Moore in a shopping cart up and down the aisles. They were laughing and seemed to be really enjoying themselves--Dudley looked like an overgrown child.

MICHAEL PETRIE, Westlake Village

TRAFFIC TREK

Two or three years ago I was driving east on Wilshire Boulevard in Westwood. It was stop-and-go traffic--the signal at Veteran Avenue must have been broken.

Suddenly the guy two cars in front of me got out of his car and slammed the door and the guy next to him got out and slammed the door. They started punching one another.

This was surprising enough, but even more surprising was that out of the Jaguar in front of me stepped William Shatner. He said something like “Hey” and the two combatants looked as startled as I was. Mr. Shatner walked over to them and the three talked for a minute. Then the two fighters sheepishly got back into their cars. Mr. Shatner walked back to his car as if this was something that happened to him everyday, and everybody drove away.

SHON ENCINAS, Los Angeles

UNANIMOUS DECISION

I am not a boxing fan, but I am glad that I accompanied my husband and another couple to a boxing match at the Los Angeles Sports Arena in November of 1979.

We were on our way down the main foyer. Just as we were about to step onto the escalator, I happened to glance around and saw Muhammad Ali about 50 feet behind me.

I was speechless! I stepped backward off the escalator and bolted toward Ali, my arms outstretched, forgetting that I was a pregnant newlywed.

I’ve always loved Ali. Even with his obnoxious “Look how pretty I am!” persona, I’ve always admired how hard he worked.

As I ran toward him, his entourage parted, seemingly to let me through. Somehow I knew they would not try to stop me. They probably noted the big smile of love on my face. Amazingly, Ali had his arms outstretched as he saw me running toward him, waiting to scoop me into his arms.

He gave me a big, platonic hug and was very cordial. He acted as if he had known me for years.

You would have thought this was enough for one day, but later while watching the match, Ali and his entourage were just a couple of rows behind us. During the fight, I got excited and yelled to one of the contenders “Rope-a-dope him!” “Rope-a-dope him!” (an Ali-ism). Remembering who coined the phrase I turned around and looked at Ali. He stood up and clenched his fists, shaking them toward me in mock anger for stealing his phrase; then he made mock advances to climb over the seats to reach me.

YVETTE L. POLAR, Los Angeles

THE SECRET WORDS

In his later years, Groucho Marx took long walks in our neighborhood with his companion-nurse. Once they asked to use our powder room and I happily obliged.

I saw him less and less frequently. Then, one day, I was in front of my house and saw him walking slowly toward us. I decided to go down the steps to greet him.

His eyes seemed to be glazed-over and he walked in a zombie-like fashion. My heart sank, but I said, “Hello, Groucho!” No response. His companion looked at me sadly and shook her head.

Then, just as he passed me, I heard the words that brought joy to my heart and a laugh to my lips. He sort of snarled in his usual nasal-tone, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

JANET SALTER, Beverly Hills