Two of my favorite people are on my mind today. I first met Blaze Fury and Tommy Timlin in 1969, and met Frances Parks, Blaze's mother, too.Their world was fascinating. Costumes, show business, burlesque, famous entertainers. Kind, generous, happy with their work, knowing them was one of the finest experiences of my life. Backstage stories told by outstanding storytellers still echo in my mind.
Blaze said once "honey, when we find out what you can do, we're going to make you a star." Tommy watched over me like a father duck watches his swan-to-be.
When Blaze retired in the early 70s after a farewell performance at the Detroit Historical Museum, she worked wardrobe, as head and dresser at the Fisher Theatre, and other theatrical venues in Detroit, and the U.S.
In 1979, she was wardrobe head for a Cadillac dealers touring show. We joined her in New York in August, sharing her room at the Mayflower Hotel. Coming back from dinner at Tavern on the Green one night, we were surprised by cameras, crowds, police cordons around the hotel. We managed to get through, got to the room, threw open the window to watch the excitement. Godunov had defected, and the Bolshoi Ballet was staying at the hotel. We watched as a cab driver, leaning out his window, yelled to the spectators to find out what was holding up his cab.
"What?" he yelled. "The Russians are coming?"
"No," yelled someone from the crowd. "The Russians are GOING."
Blaze passed on in 1997, Tommy had moved on in the 70s. I love and miss them still.
At Blaze Fury's funeral, there was a life-sized cardboard theater prop of her, in her red sequined outfit next to the casket. The funeral was at Clyne Funeral Home, family friends. The organist played burlesque standards as we entered the small room. When the service was concluded, Dwight Clyne stood, thanked the guests, invited those attending to join the family for brunch, and asked us to stand and give Blaze Fury one more standing ovation.
