Constance Towers - Mim memory

There's NO expressing the fun of recalling & sharing memories of Mim!  John's getting to know a different side of his s-i-l, one that often amazes.

So many times, Mim had the special grace of being in the right place at the right time.  The Village in the mid-'60s, San Francisco during love-ins, space shots & late suppers with Marguerite de Angeli.  And Lach & Jean's kitchen in the early-'70s.

Huh?

Yep, the kitchen in their South Avenue home.  

Mim, Lark & I were hanging out in the kitchen, probably getting under Ulla's feet as she made dinner.  We were gabbing away at the small kitchen table when Lach walked in from the garage.  He heard a snippet of our chatter, turned & asked Lark, "You're going to Lockhart's for dinner on...?"

"Yes!" she answered.

"But, Lark," a somewhat embarrassed father said, "That's the night I'm taking you to hear Constance Towers at Cafe Lafitte down in Philadelphia."

Well, Lark - and the rest of us - must have looked so downcast & torn, he almost immediately, to our astonishment, came up with a solution.

"How about if I take ALL of you?"

And he was serious!

Of course we said yes.  

The Cafe Lafitte, a super chic supper club in the heart of Philadelphia.  Not only would we dine in one of the most highly praised restaurants in town, it was evening dress only.  Lach would be in his tux, the three of us in long gowns.  And none of that hippie stuff - elegant, stylish.  (My friend,  Bruce Klauber, captures what I mean in a recent Inquirer article.)

That wasn't a problem for either Lark or yours truly, we both had evening dresses.  But Mim?

Jean rose to the occasion with joyful enthusiasm.  I have no idea where she took Mim shopping, but they found - and Jean paid for - a perfect evening gown that suited my sis to a T.  A flowing caftan style dress made of exquisite sheer green fabric with intriguing embroidery over a slightly darker green material.  Jean considered the purchase a triumph - the perfect gown for Mim.

There remained just one small problem.  Mim & I were avid readers of Philadelphia magazine & we both knew that the tony supper club was one floor up from Center City's best-known gay bar.  If Lach found out, would he cancel the evening? Could we get him through the entire night without discovering the goings on one floor down?

The grand evening arrived.  I remember that Dad closed the shop early - unheard of! - just so he could see how his two girls looked.  Lach was SO proud of the three young women he whisked into the Imperial & drove down to Drury Lane.  We did look pretty smashing.

He dropped us off at the entrance to the Cafe Lafitte, watched us go in, then drove off to park the car. 

The Cafe Lafitte did not disappoint.  It was famous across the country, the place where owner John McNulty brought iconic cabaret chanteuses like Mabel Mercer, Julie Wilson (Mim & I heard her at the Algonquin's Oak Room) - and Constance Towers.  It was an intimate room, with crystal chandeliers & stunning place settings & fresh flowers everywhere.   As Philadelphia described it -  "It was grand, elegant, a restaurant with more than a touch of class." 

And there we sat, three young women wondering - would Lach manage to get upstairs without discovering what was below? 

Five - ten - fifteen minutes past.  No Lach.  Finally, he joined us, his face as impish as ever I saw it.

"Do you KNOW what's downstairs?" he marveled.  Much to our shocked amazement, he wasn't the least distressed.  If anything, he thought it was hilarious.  A reaction we never anticipated.  "You'll never guess what someone asked me..," he continued, all smiles & unexpected mirth.  

Mim knew that the Cafe Lafitte was one flight up, on the 2nd floor.  Even I knew that.  Never occurred to us that Lach didn't.  Seems he strolled into the downstairs bar.  After a few exchanges with some of the habitues, he was set straight & sent up to the supper club.  Instead of drawing condemnation & horror, it triggered something akin to gentlemanly giggles - an unexpected venturing into an unaccustomed secret side of the city.

To this day, I have no idea how Lark became a major fan of Constance Towers.  Until hearing her name in the kitchen, I'd never heard of her.  Today, she is known by millions of General Hospital fans - playing the villainous Helena Cassadine, a role orginated by Elizabeth Taylor!  But in the early 1970s - I hadn't a clue.

What a voice!  And presence - she owned the room as soon as she entered.  As she sang, not a peep from any of the tables.  

Everyone was entranced, but Lark was there with a purpose - she wanted to hear Miss Towers sing Bill.  No idea why.  Had she seen her play Julie in the 1966 revival of Show Boat, or just heard her on the recording?  

However Lark came to adore her rendering of the Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein number, hearing Constance Towers sing Bill was clearly THE reason for our evening.

And she wasn't singing it.  Not in her first set, not as she wound down her numbers in the second.  When Miss Towers introduced her last number - and it wasn't Bill - poor Lark's heart totally sank.  

The rest of us assured Lark that if it was really & truly considered her trademark song, it must be her encore number.  It wasn't.  At that point, we were all sadly resigned to heading home with a heartbroken friend.  Then, Constance Towers came back out for one final bow.  She (gracefully) hiked herself up onto the piano for one final encore, took what I now know to be an iconic pose, and gave us all her truly last song of the night  - Bill.

same pose, the 1966 revival.