Ole Blue Eyes, the Flu and the back of the Rolls

Getting ready to go to Las Vegas for the Tuskegee Airman convention this week let loose a stream of thoughts about back in the day when I went there every single weekend....and what a different town it is now. One particular tale is worth telling here. The marquee simply said, "He's Back" and that meant Sinatra was at Caesars. For some reason I don't remember I didn't stay at Caesars this trip. I was at the Tropicana. I had gone to see Frank and while sitting in the dressing room at the end of the evening, I started feeling feverish. I got really sick, really quick. So Lee Solters said he'd take me back to my hotel. Because I was sweating, I took off my prized diamond and opal ring and put it in my purse which, then and now, holds my entire life-- airline tickets for Paris, several thousand dollars, passport, etc, since I was leaving the country in a few days. Somehow, I got out of the taxi without my purse and didn't even know it until I got deep in the lobby. I turned to Lee and he said "Just Sit." He went to the phone and called Frank's man Jilly Rizzo and within fifteen minutes my purse was delivered to me--with everything in it! I had the flu and couldn't fly back, so I rode to L.A. sleeping in the back seat of Norman Winters white Rolls. I got home, wrote a review of Frank sent it in and left town. When I returned two weeks later I had mail. I think I was one of the few newspaper people Frank liked, he sent me notes from time to time. This one said, "Forgive the delay in getting this to you, but I had the goddamn flu. Your review was so lovely, please consider this my love letter to you." it was signed Francis Albert. Nobody ever knew until now that I always felt guilty about hugging and kissing on Sinatra and giving him the 'goddamn flu.' --I'm Ruth Adkins Robinson