Hope and the Hopeful : Comedian Wows His Public at Autograph Session

Like a writhing snake, the line of the hopeful coiled around the $100 perfume displays, past the cosmetics counter and out into the mall. Some had waited at the Bullock’s in Sherman Oaks for three hours Friday, sure that what they sought could not be bought at any price:

A brush with Hope. Bob Hope.

Welcome to the celebrity autograph signing, where elevator rides become adventures, memories are carried away in shopping bags and film legends shine in a glow of affection brighter than any silver screen.

For the 91-year-old Hope and his wife, Dolores, the mission was as calculated as the invasion of Normandy. Coordinated by hand-held radio, the couple would storm the Sherman Oaks Fashion Square at 1300 hours, where they would wow autograph hounds during a promotion of their new Christmas album, “Hopes for the Holidays,” and the comedian’s own memoirs, “Bob Hope Remembers . . . World War II--The European Theatre & D-Day.”

But the comedy began even before Hope grabbed the microphone.

As the couple made their way to the stage, a stubborn elevator stopped at every floor. Each time the doors opened, the Hopes and their entourage were greeted with the same sight: a wide-eyed mother with her baby in a stroller--a different one on each floor.

“This is a comedy bit,” Hope quipped after the third mother disappeared behind the elevator doors. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

When the entourage finally spilled out of the elevator, three elderly women recognized the star in his tennis shoes and green sport coat, but still found their memories challenged.

“What was he singing?” one woman whispered as the comedian strolled by.

“I don’t remember,” replied her friend.

The third woman thought momentarily, then snapped her fingers. “He was singing, ‘I Remember,’ ” she said triumphantly.

By the time Hope reached the stage--a makeshift platform in the cosmetics section--the line awaiting him had nearly turned into a mob of gray-haired groupies. Some were decidedly younger--at least in their 30s--and they tried to reach through the line of security guards and mall staff to shake hands with the show-biz great.

But there would be no stampede here. A smirking Hope took command of the microphone with the skill that quelled rambunctious troops during his overseas performances with the USO.

“I just want you to know I don’t own this store,” Hope told the crowd. “I own the chain--I don’t own this store.”

Everybody stopped at the sound of his voice. Then the comedian looked at the photo of himself and Dolores that they would soon be autographing. “That’s what we’re going to sign?” he asked. “Hey, I’m glad they retouched it.”

The audience laughed again, prompting Dolores to get into the act. She poked fun at her husband’s globe-trotting years with the USO. Although the couple has been married for 60 years, she said, “he has only been home three weeks.”

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Indeed, it was memories of Hope’s USO tours that drew many fans to the event.

One of the first was Kathy Wayland of Orange, whose husband was engaged in combat in Vietnam when Hope performed there for the troops in 1968. Her husband, Mark, had to work Friday and was unable to make the trip to Sherman Oaks, where Kathy and neighbor Ginny Burger waited three hours to shake hands with the celebrity.

“My husband never got to see you, but he wanted me to say ‘Thank you,’ ” Wayland told Hope as she clutched her 21-month-old daughter, Katie.

Stacey Knight of Long Beach waited in line with her two sisters to ask Hope to sign a picture of himself and Knight’s father taken in France when the World War II peace was signed. Her father, 80-year-old Alfred Nathan, now lives in a Florida retirement home.

“We thought it would be a nice Christmas gift for my dad from his grandson,” Knight said while holding her son, 3-month-old Griffin.

Perhaps Hope didn’t hear Knight and the others explain why they had come. Or perhaps he was too busy, signing like crazy, to follow. But just being in his presence was all they wanted, and they left beaming.

As at most celebrity autograph sessions, however, there were plenty of fans who were more interested in taking home a piece of the legend.

Billie Nelson Tyrell, who owns more than 500 autographed celebrity dolls, smuggled in a doll of the comedian, hoping to get it signed.

“They told me he wouldn’t sign it,” the Studio City woman said. “That he was only signing the photographs. I stuck it in my purse and pulled it out when I got up there. He signed it on the back. He really seemed to like it.”

And one man lined up to see how Hope would react just to looking at his face. Pat Ryan, 68, of West Hills won a celebrity look-alike contest a few years ago for looking like Hope.

“I get people stopping me all the time asking me if I’m Hope,” said Ryan, a retired sportswriter. On Thanksgiving a man at a Malibu restaurant bet a companion $50 that Ryan was Hope. He lost.

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For his part, Hope didn’t seem to care either way. As Ryan shook his hand and cameras flashed, Hope merely smiled, signed and looked toward the next autograph seeker.

It had been a long day for the Hopes, who earlier had helped celebrate the 80th birthday of Hope’s perennial co-star, Dorothy Lamour. During a brief ceremony on the Universal Studios back lot, a Parisian-style street was renamed rue de Lamour.

But Hope was clearly enjoying his day. He said he is already looking forward to signing autographs on his 100th birthday.

When asked what album he might release for that momentous occasion, he just smiled and said: “Anything that keeps me standing up.”

Times correspondent Steve Ryfle contributed to this story.