After the Ballyhoo Is Over
Two
years ago, against the same backdrop of beauty and ballyhoo as emanates
presently from Long Beach, Leona Gage, Miss Maryland, was acclaimed
Miss U.S.A. At her moment of triumph, as she prepared to compete for
the Miss Universe title, it was revealed she was married and the mother
of two children. Her husband had talked in a bar in Baltimore.
Leona
first denied, then admitted, it was true. There followed an
unprecedented uproar in which horrified pageant officials gave off wild
double talk. It was as though she had committed a capital crime. All
she had done was reach for the big break a pretty girl knows she needs
to get anywhere in the tough entertainment business. In the end she was
disqualified and sent packing.
But life was not too grim for
tearful Leona. She virtually had to run from Ed Sullivan's program to
Steve Allen's show one Sunday. Then there was the showgirl job in Las Vegas. After that, nothing.
IT OCCURRED
to a city editor a few days ago that there might be an interesting
feature story in finding her and taking her to Long Beach and getting
her views on the widely exploited Miss Universe clambake.
After
a long search a reporter located her, and Wednesday morning went to see
her. She lives in an old frame house in a run-down neighborhood in the
Echo Park section, two blocks from Angelus Temple.
The devil
grass front lawn has not been watered. The garbage cans at the curbs
had been spilled, and several alley cats were foraging in the contents.
Only bright spot in the drab surroundings were several pastel travel
posters incongruously tacked on the walls.
Leona Gage is now Mrs. Nicholas Covacevich.
Her husband is a nightclub dancer and dancing teacher. Her two children
live with her and she is expecting a baby in about a month.
The doorbell did not ring when the reporter pressed it so he knocked on the door. He noticed the doorknob was broken.
When
Miss Maryland of 1957 asked who it was and he told her, she said she
was tired, hadn't slept and didn't want to talk about the Miss Universe
contest or have anything to do with it.
"Please go away," she pleaded from behind the door, and he did.
::
SHORTLY AFTER
a prisoner charged with a narcotics violation jumped out of the Federal
Building the other day, two secretaries on a coffee break were going
down in the elevator and one said, "Did you hear about the man who just
jumped out of the 5th floor window and landed on the 4th floor roof?" The other asked casually, "A taxpayer?"
Dorothy Coleman, a passenger in the elevator, could only surmise that they worked for the Internal Revenue Service.
::
A MAN WITH
his eye on the White House has to reach for support wherever he can,
sometimes without checking. This will explain a letter received by a
downtown executive from Sen. John F. Kennedy, outlining his position
against the loyalty oath section of the National Defense Education Act.
The letter concludes, "I would welcome any comments you may have, in
your capacity as a Democratic leader."
The executive's comments
are not calculated to send Sen. Kennedy into raptures of joy. He is a
Republican, a close friend and ardent supporter of Richard Nixon.
::
CHALKED ON the blackboard behind the bar in the Copper Kitchen, at Washington and Lincoln Blvds., Bob Ferris of KABC reports, is the following: "Nominations for 1959 Nobel Peace Prize: F. Castro, Gov. Long, Gov. Faubus, Godzilla."
::
PUBLIC AT LARGE — Toni Besset heard a customer in a Montebello market say to a clerk, "Just wait until my rich uncle gets out of the poorhouse — I'll be rich, too!" . . . Tom Cracraft
is surprised that the people responsible for TV westerns, after
reworking the same tired old plots, haven't thought of his idea —
running them backward . . . June RossDrummond says the boat and swimming pool craze has reached the point that a person is considered neurotic if he isn't aquatic.
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