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Friday, July 12, 2013 by Liz Smith “A writer is someone on whom nothing is lost,” wrote Henry James. |
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| MY good friend Ralph Graves departed this earth recently and I made mention of it. But then I found a divine photograph of the two of us whooping it up, back in 2000, over the days when we were both working for Time, Inc. (We had just scored a SRO speaking engagement at the Dutch Treat Club in NYC.) Ralph was a moving force behind Time, Inc’s history-making, burgeoning and all-important Life magazine. He was a lovely guy and a crusading journalist. |
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I thought in those pre-Lib days that I had died and gone to heaven. I was only one of three women then employed in this venue of world sports, about which I knew zilch, absolutely nothing. (Those were the days when Time, Inc. could wait 11 years for Sports Illustrated to move into the profit column.) I wasn’t a sports fan but traveled the world first-class on Time, Inc.’s dime and was always accompanied by helpful talented males who carried the tickets, bags, passports, cash, opened doors for me and took me out at night in the Caribbean, Spain, etc. before helping me with my copy. |
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I laughed. “I don’t know from sports — I’m from Texas where football is king and I’ve already been married to one “right end” hero ... Except for the enjoyment of seeing those guys bend over in a huddle and pat each other’s behinds ... I’d be no use!” But Trescher persevered. (He was such a pro when it came to creating good PR for S.I. that he had a copy of the magazine on every Congressional desk when it carried issues of national interest.) I WAS in Essex, Connecticut recently and Alexandra Isles, the documentary film maker, came up and decried our mutual loss since George Trescher had introduced us to that part of the Nutmeg State. My time at Time, Inc. produced many happy moments. I covered the new Robert Trent golf course in Marbella where no actor was allowed to tee off or join the club ... mule racing in the posh suburbs of Cleveland ... how people entertained at the Kentucky Derby ... worked for the outrageous Frenchman Andre LaGuerre who kept telling me that my suggestions of “rodeo” were pointless since “Rodeo is not a sport!” ... and became real friends with Mr. Trescher who introduced me around to the likes of Brooke Astor and her crowd. I recall that when Time’s head man Andrew Heiskell was told that he had “a fairy” at Sports Illustrated by the name of George Trescher, he simply sniffed: “Well, I wish I had a hundred more just like him!” George is gone now but while he existed, the Metropolitan Museum, the New York Public Library and many another institution was the better for it. |
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I can’t respond properly to all of this but Dominick would be thrilled by the positive aspects of those who remember him fondly. Many deplored having no Dominick to cover the latest murders, trials and high and low society malfeasance. But it’s a different world nowadays. (I see that in the New York Observer cartoon of Anthony Weiner and Eliot Spitzer, both sexually disgraced, but re-entering politics half nude under a headline THE BOXER REBELLION. How might Dominick have handled this, one wonders?) |
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Not the least of these was becoming friends with the late great editor of Time, Henry Grunwald. And so, on October 1st , I will emcee the Metropolitan Club lunch which his widow, Louise, masterminds in his name, raising money for The Lighthouse. This year we salute Henry Kissinger and I am considering how far I can go in sending up the former Secretary of State/National Security dynamo with some fun. This lunch is usually a sell-out so call Kelly Boyle at 212.821.9428. |
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Contact Liz Smith here. | Click here for NYSD contents. |