Mr. Cecil and I are going down to Gamble’s Department Store as soon as we can and buy me a white evening gown for the pageant and a white bathing suit as well. Everything has to be white, according to the Miss Mississippi contest rules. Mr. Cecil has been teaching me how to walk because they judge you on your posture. I go around with a book on my head all the time and I am getting pretty good at it
If I can just win that scholarship! You should read who all has studied at the American Academy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Celeste Holm went there. Mr. Cecil and Tootie and Dolores and Helen and I are planning to celebrate Dolores’s birthday at this new Polynesian restaurant that has just opened. Nobody knows how old Dolores is and she won’t tell, claiming it is a state secret. Tootie says she rides buses just so she won’t have to get a driver’s license and reveal her age.
Did you know that they have bedpans made just for men?
July 23, 1959
We got to the Aloha Restaurant about seven o’clock. It was decorated like Hawaii, with Hawaiian music and waitresses in real Hawaiian costumes. Tootie ordered a whole suckling pig for our party, and we had all kinds of funny drinks. My first one came in a coconut. Then I had one called a Mai Tai, and one called a Scorpion.
We were eating our appetizers, shrimp and chicken livers with bacon, and I was having a wonderful time when all of a sudden Mr. Cecil looked like he had seen a ghost. My back was to the door, and he said, “Don’t turn around.”
I said, “Why?”
He said, “Don’t turn around.”
Then Tootie said under her breath, “Don’t turn around.”
So naturally I turned around, and there were Ray Layne and Ann at the door. He saw me at the same time I saw him. I could have crawled under the table. There I sat with four paper umbrellas in my hair and six paper leis around my neck. He came over and said hello and introduced Ann to everyone, including me. I said, “How do you do?” What else would I say?
Helen, who was bombed, said, “Why don’t you two join the party?” Tootie kicked her so hard under the table that she spilled her drink. He didn’t stay and after he left, Mr. Cecil asked me if I wanted to go. I said, no, there was no reason to ruin the party for everybody. Then I had three more coconut drinks. We never did eat that suckling pig. The poor thing died for nothing. Of all the restaurants in the world, why did Ray have to come into that one?
Afterwards we went to Tootie’s apartment. That’s where I got the idea of having Mr. Cecil hide me in the closet. I put on Tootie’s old winter coat with the hanger still in the back of it, and Mr. Cecil lifted me up and hung me in the closet. At the time I thought it would be the funniest thing in the world for them to find me just hanging there with the coats. What I didn’t realize was that Mr. Cecil was so drunk he forgot where he put me. I must have hung in that closet for over an hour before I passed out.
The next morning, when I woke up and saw Tootie’s fox furs, I started kicking and screaming. Dolores got to me first and opened the door. I asked her, “What in the world am I doing hanging in the closet?”
She said, “I’m sure I don’t know.” Nobody had gone home that night, and you never saw so many sick people with hangovers in your life. Those fruit drinks are lethal. I had missed the best part of the evening, though, because Dolores got so drunk she told everybody how old she was, and now they won’t tell me.
We sat around the apartment with ice on our heads until about five o’clock that afternoon. Tootie had to call the drugstore to bring us Alka-Seltzer and aspirin and Coca-Cola and ice cream. I will never do that again as long as I live. Thank God it was Saturday. When I did get home, I stayed in bed all day Sunday. Lucky for me Jimmy Snow was off crop-dusting. If he had played that television set as loud as he usually does, I might not have survived. I don’t know what hurt worse, seeing Ray or my head.
July 24, 1959
Daddy had to have the money. I couldn’t let him lose the lease on the bar. He tried to borrow all over town, I know he did, but nobody would give him a penny. He wouldn’t have asked me for it if he hadn’t been desperate. He knew how hard I had been saving.
At first I got mad and didn’t want to give it to him. Then I remembered what he had done for me when I was a kid, how he had taken a chance on going to jail for life to protect me, so I couldn’t let him down.
I am sure he will pay it back. Besides, I can always go in the contest next year or something. A year is nothing.
July 26, 1959
When Jimmy Snow got home from his crop-dusting job and found out I had given Daddy all my money, he was furious! He screamed, “How in hell could you be so stupid as to give your daddy your money?” and tore into Daddy’s room, where he yanked him out of the bed and called him a no-good drunken son of a bitch. He started beating Daddy up until I ran in and stopped him.
Jimmy stormed back into the other room. He had $40 in his billfold that he kept trying to make me take. I didn’t want his money, all I wanted was for him to stop acting so insane. He asked why would I give Daddy the money when I knew he would just drink it all up. I told him whatever Daddy does, he was still my father and I owed it to him.
He said, “You don’t owe that rotten son of a bitch anything.”
And before I thought, I said, “He killed Claude Pistal, didn’t he?”
That was the first time I had ever broken my word and mentioned it since I was eleven. I was sorry I had.
Jimmy looked at me real strange and said, “What?”
I said, “Listen, Jimmy, let’s just forget about it, OK?”
“Wait a minute. I’m not going to forget it. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know who killed Claude, so let’s just leave it at that, all right?”
“Who do you think killed him?”
“You and Daddy and Rayette. You told me so yourself.”
He looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Oh, my God. You didn’t believe that story I told you about Rayette Walker, did you?”
“Of course I did.”
“Daisy, your daddy and I never killed anybody.” Jimmy looked like he was going to cry.
“Of course you did. I saw the sacks with the guns you got from Peachy Wigham.”
“What guns?”
“The two sacks you got from Peachy the night Claude was killed. I saw Daddy bring the guns back the next day. You can stop pretending.”
“Daisy, there weren’t guns in those sacks. That was two bottles of bootleg whiskey your daddy and I bought off of Peachy and took to Rayette’s house. He brought the empty bottles back in those sacks.”
“Wait a minute. How else would Daddy have known about Claude being dead before the police told him?”
“I went up to the airstrip to get something out of the plane that morning and I found Claude and called your daddy over at Rayette’s house and told him.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But you told me the bullets were from Rayette’s gun.”
“My God, Daisy, I was half drunk that night and your daddy put me up to telling you that story so he could go on seeing Rayette without you having a fit over it. I never thought you believed it.”
I said, “Of course I believed it.”
Then he started to cry and kept repeating how sorry he was, that that stupid story was just a joke. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I don’t want to see either one of them again.
August 1, 1959
I have been living at the YWCA and eating at Morrison’s Cafeteria. After work yesterday, when I walked into the lobby, there sat Jimmy Snow. He grabbed me by the arm and said, “Come on, we are going home.”
I said, “Who are you?” and walked right by him.
He said, “You are too going home with me even if I have to drag you out of here.”
I went over to Miss Prisim, who is the switchboard operator, and informed her that the man who looked somewhat like an albino was a total stranger to me and to please call the police. Jimmy kept making a commotio
n and Miss Prisim got so rattled that when she did get the number, she said, “Hello, this is the police,” and hung up.
Finally, Jimmy said, “All right, I didn’t want to tell you this, but your daddy has had a heart attack and is not expected to live and we have to go now.”
We ran out and got in the truck. Jimmy said they had him over at the bar because he had been in too bad a shape to move.
It was the longest ride in my life. I kept thinking I would never forgive myself if Daddy died before I had a chance to tell him I loved him. When we pulled up to the bar, I jumped out and ran in, but it was pitch-dark. I yelled, “Daddy! where are you?” And all of a sudden the lights came on and about twenty people screamed, “Surprise!!” and Daddy was standing right in the middle of them and there wasn’t a thing the matter with him. I was so glad to see him alive and so shocked I started to cry.
Everybody was there. Mr. Cecil and the Cecilettes, Tootie, Helen, Dolores, Paris Knights, and J.R., Professor Teasley and his mother, and they all started singing “For she’s a jolly good fellow.” On the wall was a big sign that read “Miss Mississippi Pageant or Bust.” After they made me sit down, Mr. Cecil went behind the curtains in the back room. Daddy turned on a spotlight he had borrowed and Mr. Cecil came back out in a red sequined jacket and bow tie with a huge book that had “Daisy Fay Harper” written on it and said, “Settle down, Daisy Fay Harper, because THIS IS YOUR LIFE,” and everyone applauded.
“Do you remember this person? You haven’t seen her since you were twelve years old.”
A woman’s voice came from the back room. “Daisy, the last time we met was in Shell Beach in 1953.” I couldn’t think who it could be. Then J.R. put on a record of Jane Froman singing “I’ll Walk Alone” and I knew who it was—Betty Caldwell, the crippled girl I had healed. She came in and grabbed me and she looked great.
Mr. Cecil escorted her to a chair and announced, “Now a special person you have never met … Daisy Fay, say hello to Daisy Fay the second.…” Then this little girl ran out and kissed me and handed me an envelope. She was Betty’s little girl who they had named after me. Inside the envelope was a note that said, “This entitles Miss Daisy Fay Harper the First to have two chipped teeth fixed free of charge.” Betty had married a dentist and had arranged for a friend of his to do it.
The next voice was a man’s. “Daisy, are you still eating all those hot fudge sundaes and bananas splits?” J.R. put on the theme music from Gang Busters … It was Mr. Kilgore, the man from the FBI who had been with Opal Bates the day they had picked me up from school! He gave me a check for $50 signed by the FBI for services rendered, and wished me good luck.
Then Mr. Cecil said, “The next two guests need no introduction,” and all, of a sudden I heard two women scream “BINGO!!!” I knew who it was, it was Grandma Pettibone and Aunt Bess. I was so happy to see them I started to cry again. Grandma brought me underwear and Aunt Bess had frozen some black-eyed peas and collard greens from her restaurant Grandma whispered that she was still mad at Bess over the birth control pills but was speaking to her this week in my honor.
After they sat down, the theme music from The King and I came on and this deep booming voice said, “Roses are red, violets are blue, boy, do I have a wig for you! Et cetera et cetera et cetera.” It was Vernon Mooseburger with a wig and he even had false eyebrows. He kissed me and presented me with a certificate for ten free lessons with Dale Carnegie, where he is now an executive.
After he went over and sat down, the music started, this time with the “Blue Danube Waltz.” A very familiar voice said, “Remember, Daisy, nothing succeeds more than personal charm.” It was Mrs. Dot!!! She came running in and I grabbed her and started crying again. She has been out of the hospital for three years and is teaching drama at a girls’ school in Gulfport, Mississippi, and looks just the same. Her gift was a complete set of Shakespeare’s works bound in leather.
J.R. did a drumroll and Mr. Cecil said, “Now, last but not least, a special mystery guest, all the way from Birmingham, Alabama, who wouldn’t be here tonight if it hadn’t been for you. Mystery guest, sign in please!!!” This pretty girl walked in and started writing her name on a blackboard they had set up. The minute I saw her ears I knew it was Angel Pistal, all grown up! Her mother and daddy were with her, and they gave me a check for $100.
J.R. played “Happy Days Are Here Again” on the record player while Mr. Cecil closed by announcing, “A party in your honor will be held in this room after the show for you and your guests, catered by Tommy and Jim, two of the Cecilettes. Daisy Fay Harper, this is your life!!!”
After that they rolled out a big table with all kinds of presents on it. Mr. Cecil and the Cecilettes bought me a whole new traveling outfit with shoes and hat and purse, and as a joke, Mr. Cecil had made up an ankle bracelet to match. Tootie and Helen and Dolores bought me a bathing suit which the Cecilettes had been up all night covering with white sequins. It’s got to be the most fantastic bathing suit in the world. Jimmy Snow gave me $75, and Professor Teasley and his mother gave me 100. Paris Knights bought me a beautiful Samsonite traveling bag with a matching cosmetic case.
But they saved the biggest package till the end. It was a huge pink box and when I opened it, I almost died. Inside was the most beautiful white evening gown I’ve ever seen. It must have cost a fortune. I couldn’t imagine who could have afforded it. I asked who it was from, but nobody knew. J.R. said, “Look at the card.” I’d been in such a hurry I hadn’t seen it. It read “Good luck to a friend. Best, Mr. E. Gamble.” J.R. was grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Underwood and her sixth graders sent me a good-luck note, and Peachy Wigham and Ula Sour made me coat hangers with cloth on them and wrote a sweet letter.
At the party afterwards Betty Caldwell told me she had read in the paper that Billy Bundy was in jail again. He’d been trying to heal people over the radio in Humboldt, Tennessee, when some woman had put her hands on the radio while her hands were wet and got knocked clear across the room.
We stayed up until three o’clock in the morning and had a ball. Angel told me all about herself and she is as sweet as ever and Mr. Cecil and Aunt Bess hit it off great. They danced almost every dance together. And I must say that Dale Carnegie course certainly must have paid off for Vernon Mooseburger because he went home with Paris Knights. I just hope his wig stayed on. Helen got so drunk at the end she was sitting there talking to one of those stuffed blowfish Daddy has on a wall. That party is the nicest thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life.
This morning Jimmy flew Grandma and Aunt Bess home in his plane and I went to the dentist and he fixed my teeth in an hour. You would never even know they had been chipped. I am all packed. I left my gown in the box and tied it on top of Jimmy’s truck so it won’t get mashed. Daddy and Jimmy and I leave for Tupelo the first thing in the morning. I love everybody in the world!
August 3, 1959
We arrived at the Dinkier Tutwiler Hotel in Tupelo at four-thirty this afternoon. As we were unpacking the truck, guess who drove up in a brand-new Cadillac? Kay Bob Benson and her mother! I thought I was rid of her forever, but somebody up there hates me.
I’ve never seen so many pretty girls. They are from all over the state.
The Dinkier Tutwiler Hotel is beautiful. The lobby is marble with real antique furniture, live palm trees and ferns everywhere. Signs were all over the walls saying, “Welcome, Miss Mississippi Hopefuls.” The woman at the registration desk told me that, because 138 girls were entered this year, the Dinkier Tutwiler was all booked and I would have to find another place to stay. So after I learned what time I had to be there tomorrow, Daddy and Jimmy Snow and I went out to look for a new hotel.
The only vacancy we found was the Hotel Dixie on the other side of town. It is pretty seedy, but it will be all right for a week.
Daddy went down in the lobby and made a phone call. After he came back, he gave me the number of the Veterans’ Cab Company. When I have to go over to the Dinkier Tutwile
r, I am to call that number and ask for Cab No. 22, whose driver is an old drinking buddy of his and will take good care of me. I hoped his old buddy wasn’t still drinking because I didn’t feel like being killed after I had come this far. Daddy and Jimmy said good-bye and wished me luck and headed on back to Hattiesburg.
I sure hope I do well tomorrow. We finished off Aunt Bess’s black-eyed peas and collard greens on the way up here. I don’t feel so hot right now.
Kay Bob Benson! Do you believe it?
August 4, 1959
This morning I called the number Daddy gave me and Cab No. 22 arrived in about five minutes. The driver, whose name was Mr. Smith, was pretty old and didn’t talk much. From the way the cab smelled, Daddy was dead wrong about him quitting drinking, but he was a safe driver and very courteous and called me “miss.” When I got to the Dinkier Tutwiler, I had on the new suit the Cecilettes had given me, and I was glad. All the girls were wearing nice clothes.
The first day is called “Get Acquainted Day.” We were handed name tags and heard a speech in this big banquet room by Mrs. Lulie Harde McClay, the woman in charge, who had started the Miss Mississippi pageant in 1929. She spoke to us about how important it was to behave like southern ladies during the coming week, and how Miss Mississippi represented the image of southern womanhood. We were to remember there was only one winner and lots of losers, but losers shouldn’t feel bad because it was an honor even to be in the pageant. Then she introduced us to the chaperones and judges. There are six judges: Mrs. Peggy Buchanan, president of the Junior League of Mississippi; Mr. Harrison Swanley, a famous Mississippi painter; last year’s Miss Mississippi, Audrey Jones Sommers; Madame Rosa Albergotti, opera teacher and ex-opera star; Mr. Oliver Henry, the vice-president of the Jaycees, who sponsored the pageant; and Dr. Daniel A. Deady, preacher of the Mount Holy Oak Baptist Church in Tupelo. All the new girls in the contest are to come tomorrow morning, prepared to do their talent numbers.