Now, a smart person would have rented a wheelchair and carried on their life as usual but I never even thought to do that. I chose crutches and soon discovered they were not as easy to manage as I had supposed. They were well padded but not enough to keep from hurting my underarms unless I could support my weight with my arms, which were soon feeling shaky. I turned my ushering duties over to a friend visiting from Nashville who probably was not as thrilled as I would have been. The VIP was someone she saw every week.
On awards night I managed to find my table and it was a lovely dinner, every bit as nice as I had described in my press releases. After dinner I had to make my way all the way across to the other side of the cavernous convention center for the awards and entertainment part of the evening. So here I am in an evening gown, awkwardly hobbling along…step, hobble, sigh, step, hobble, sigh. It is taking me a l-o-n-g time. I notice the pop superstar who was to be the crowning jewel on this evening's entertainment…the one whose 17 page contract said that no one is to speak to him backstage unless he speaks to them first…is watching every painstaking step I take. I seriously doubted that he was in any way enamored with my middle aged huffing and puffing, so just pile a heap of self consciousness on top of everything else I think.
Finally, after what seemed like I had walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I reached the auditorium and would soon be sitting down…in the dark…where no one could see me.
"Come here," the host of the event said. "I want you to meet someone."
I found myself looking up into the handsome, smiling face of Ben Johnson. Ben Johnson, the cowboy turned actor who'd cast a long shadow in Hollywood, making dozens of Westerns with John Wayne, Ward Bond, Maureen O'Hara and others. The actor who won an Academy Award for his role of Sam the Lion in The Last Picture Show, and he was telling me he was pleased to meet me. Then he autographed my cast and gave me a hug. Which I enjoyed far more than I probably should ever admit.
Yes, the most interesting shoe I ever had was not a shoe at all.