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Jack Benny: There’s More To The Story Of His Last Appearance in Dallas

Absolutely love Alan Peppard and his darling  dimples. Have loved former Neiman’s marketing director Tom Alexander since the 70′s when he created NM magic. But, boys, you only told part of the Jack Benny episode in Dallas.

Tom’s written Stanley Marcus: The Relentless Reign of a Merchant Prince, a book about working with Mr. Stanley. Great book which will be discussed January 31 at the Dallas Historical Society. One brief tale is about  the legendary comedian Benny’s almost-public appearance at the 1974 Japanese Fortnight ball. Alan covered it yesterday, but there’s more to what happened behind the scenes when Jack showed the first signs of pancreatic cancer that would kill him just two months later. I was there.

As society editor of the Morning News, I was assigned to cover the NM Fortnight saluting Japan on October 19, 1974, at the Fairmont. Designer Hanae Mori and other adorable and brilliant Japanese notables were everywhere that evening. Billie Marcus (Stanley’s fabulous first wife) was the only one who seemed to manage the pronunciation of the Japanese names. How come? She had written the phonetic pronunciation of the names on her hand. Billie was such a wonderful person that she made her hand available to all.

Following the reception, the black-tie guests were herded into the Regency Ballroom for dinner and a performance by headliner Benny. Tom was notorious for walking the entire back of the room during the evening. He was like Eisenhower coordinating D-Day operations. If one thing was out skew, he could spot it immediately. Over the years,  I had learned about this vantage point and took my place in the back to observe. While holding up the wall, I started talking with a Vegas-type older gentleman. His dress was a bit more so than the typical Dallas dresser, but he was charming and knew his stuff. “You know, kid, I like you,” he said. “Jack would like you, too. Come on. I want you to meet Jack.”

Didn’t have a clue who Jack was, but I trotted behind him to the Green Room. Once inside I realized that Jack was Jack Benny, and my charming older gentleman was his handler. OMG! I stood to the side waiting for the signal to be introduced to Jack, who was bound to be my new best friend.

But there was a problem. Jack was in a snit. He and his valet were having words.

“My hand just doesn’t feel right,” Jack told his valet.

“Oh, come on, Jack, it’ll be fine,” said the valet.

I was so intrigued. Not by Jack’s hand, but that he had an Asian valet. It wasn’t his chauffeur Rochester!

Finally, Jack just shook his head and said his fingers weren’t working properly. He shouldered his violin and demonstrated how things just weren’t right.

Before this point, most of the people in the room had thought it was an act. Suddenly, my escort dropped me like an ex-wife and went to Jack. The room seemed to erupt in, “What do we do now?”

Luckily, the Fortnight was benefiting UT Health Science Center at Dallas, so there were nearly 1,000 doctors in the house. Neiman’s staff discreetly asked the top docs (Dr. Bryan Williams and Dr. Albert Hendler) to come to the Green Room for assistance.

By this time, I was still standing along the  wall of the Green Room when freelance photographer Shelly Katz smelled a story. He had trailed the handler and me into the Green Room and had kept a low profile. In the 1970′s, Shelly was about as close as we had to a paparazzi in Dallas, and he saw his opportunity. As the doctors marched into the room, Shelly grabbed my little tape recorder from my hand and quietly put it on a table near Jack with the red “R” button punched.

Dr. Williams sat directly in front of Jack and held his hands. Looking him straight in the eye and with a roomful of people watching, Bryan said, “Say, ‘Round the rock raced the red rabbit.’”

There was silence. Jack just stared at Bryan in disbelief — it seemed like for an hour. Everyone leaned forward to hear Jack utter the words. Then Jack looked up at his valet like a lost child searching for a familiar face.

“Round the rock raced the red rabbit. . . you want me to say that?” Benny repeated perfectly, looking at the good doctors as if they were the ones in need of examination.

With his Jack Benny delivery of that line, the roomful of worried people burst into laughter.

But after further consultation and despite Benny’s protests, it was decided that Jack shouldn’t go on with the show. The last I saw of him, he was walking to the elevators with doctors on either side.

Luckily, Tom and his NM miracle workers realized that the marvelous Pearl Bailey was appearing that night in the Venetian Room, and asked if she would step in for Jack. Immediately Pearlie Mae agreed. Without rehearsal with the band or a planned script, she, the musicians, and the audience had a great time.

As I was returning to the ballroom, I ran into DMN cohort Robert “Bob” Miller, who at the time was the paper’s city editor. In his cute curmudgeonly way, he stopped me and said, “What’s happening, Prejean?”

I told him what I had just witnessed with my tape recorder in hand.

“You did call it in, didn’t you?”

“Call it in?”

With that he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and took me to a pay phone in the lobby. He dialed the city desk and said, “Prejean has a story. Hand-hold her through it.”

The good news was, I got a front-page story out of it. The bad news was, I never got to meet Jack Benny. The sad news is that he died two month later on December 26 from pancreatic cancer.