Variation on a Theme, Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 146: On A Big Stage
Monday, June 2, 1986
The Monday departure meant we didn’t have the parents sending us off. CBS was paying half of our parking bill, too, so we just parked at the airport’s long-term parking area.
After that, it was routine. We weren’t truly frequent fliers yet, but we were pretty practiced at it compared to most people, especially those our age. That would only grow with time.
We were on board our plane by eleven and arrived at JFK at four, with the time change. It took a bit of time to get our bags, unfortunately, so we left the airport right at the height of rush hour.
As we were heading toward the Midtown Tunnel, I caught sight of the World Trade Center towers. I’m pretty sure I controlled my emotions well enough, but they were there. It was one more thing I had never seen and could never have seen, if not for what certainly appeared to be a miracle.
I had largely avoided the subject of 9/11 beyond fairly vague references to it, and that wasn’t going to change. No one but Laura needed to really understand it. If we could avoid it in this universe, we would. If we couldn’t, they would all know about it in time.
I didn’t see the towers again after the tunnel, but I wasn’t looking. We would be there soon enough. I wasn’t going to miss ‘Windows on the World’, given a second chance to go there.
After a brief slog through city traffic, we arrived at the Hilton at Rockefeller Center just before seven, tired and hungry. Check-in was easy. We let the bellman take our bags, then headed to the check-in desk. They wanted my American Express for incidentals, of course.
Now that we had our room numbers (immediately adjacent to each other), we gave them to the bellman. I was pretty sure his eyes lit up, which suggested the floor we were on was known for good tips.
Sure enough, the floor we were on required a swipe of our room keys before the elevator would let us stop there. Once we got off, we immediately spotted a Hilton Club lounge with refreshments. We skipped it, headed to our rooms (which seemed a bit nicer than average, but nothing over the top), and got settled. I tipped the bellman fairly well. It wasn’t unlikely that we would be back here. Besides, it was the right thing to do. He fussed around for a bit, putting our bags on luggage stands (producing extra ones from a service room down the hall in the process) and making sure we didn’t want anything else.
Once he left, we made a beeline for the Hilton Club. It was deserted at the moment, which was probably just as well. We had manners, but we were also hungry young people who were in the ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ part of our lives in regard to this sort of place. The trick would be not losing our manners as we became used to being pampered. We would probably manage. If not, we could hopefully hold each other accountable.
There were phones in the club, and we made quick calls home. Unlike the usual hotel phone, there was no access charge just to use a calling card, so I imagined we might use these a fair bit.
The parents were all happy to hear that we’d arrived safely. We didn’t mention our surroundings. They might hear about it one day, though.
We didn’t eat the place bare, just snacked for a bit. The Hilton had a restaurant, and we headed there after about half an hour. It wasn’t amazing, but it was good enough, and that’s all it had to be.
After that, we headed back up to our floor. We hung out for a bit, but tomorrow was a big day and everyone wanted to get a good night’s sleep.
Tuesday, June 3, 1986
We were up and out early. After breakfast at the hotel, we hailed a cab and arrived at CBS’s offices about ten minutes early. The receptionist called the right people and issued us visitor passes. By the time she’d gotten us set, a slightly balding man, likely in his forties, came out of one of the elevators and headed over.
He turned out to be Mark Blodgett. We all shook hands with him, after which he led us to the elevators.
On the way, he went over the plan for today. All of us would be talking with Diane Sawyer, who was the host for our segment of the show. He didn’t mention who would host the other segments, nor did he give us a lot of details about them. Apparently, both Marco Roberts and Anne and Natalie would be on another one, though.
We, along with some unnamed others, would be on the segment ‘A New Generation.’ Anne and Natalie were certainly part of our generation, and Marco arguably was, but I imagined their segment would be something along the lines of ‘The Fight Isn’t Over’ or the like.
Today would be a lot of hurry up and wait. Diane was going to talk to us one at a time. I imagined there would also be some segments where Angie and Paige (and, perhaps, Angie and I) were both there, but she wanted us separately first. I couldn’t see a CBS angle for putting Paige and me in a segment. If Jas got on the show, it would be in conjunction with me, which was amusing but made perfect sense. She wasn’t ‘out there’ in the way the rest of us were.
She might well be on the show. They’d sent her a questionnaire, one that had amused us all. It had a few questions like, ‘Did it surprise you to learn your fiancé supports gay rights?’ and ‘How do you feel about the prospect of having a gay sister-in-law?’ Had they known Jas was bisexual, things might be very different. And, if they’d actually done some ‘investigative journalism,’ someone in Memorial’s drama program would have spilled the beans about Jas and Paige having dated. Unless that was going to be a ‘gotcha’ question, though, it felt like a missed opportunity.
In any case, they called Angie first. The rest of us had brought books and mostly amused ourselves by reading. There was very little to do other than that.
We broke for lunch when Angie came back from her interview. Over lunch at the CBS cafeteria (or one of them, perhaps), she said they’d asked her not to go into specifics, but said it was both ‘intense’ and ‘a lot of fun.’ That made total sense to us. After all, we’d all been in situations like that many times. Most elimination rounds, especially those at major tournaments, are exactly that: very intense and lots of fun. If they’re not fun, you’re probably in the wrong activity. If they’re not intense, someone’s dropped the ball.
We were all very careful of our clothes during lunch — another thing we had a lot of practice with! — and averted any food-related disasters.
We headed back up to our waiting room after lunch. Shortly after we got back, a woman came out and called my name. I headed back into a small studio and got a surprise. Angie could have prepared us for this, but she hadn’t, and I imagined she was highly amused about now. They must have cleaned her up before she came out, because I hadn’t noticed the change, but she wore very little makeup most of the time (as I knew well from personal experience), and the makeup she did wear fit in her purse, so she would have been able to repair everything. None of the girls wore much, for that matter. That would change over time, but not yet.
“We have to do some makeup,” she said. “TV lights are pretty unforgiving. You’ll look perfectly normal on the show. If we don’t do this, though, you won’t.”
I chuckled and said, “I’ve heard that. Do what you need to.”
“Please try not to move,” she said. “I know you’re not used to this.”
I’d had stage makeup applied before, so I was more used to it than she thought. In any case, it went fine. Part of it was imagining what Jess must go through, and knowing Angie already had. I wasn’t about to whine and complain about the unfairness of it all!
Once I was appropriately made up, she led me to an interview room. Diane Sawyer was waiting, and moved to shake hands with me as I came in.
“Hello!” she said. “Diane Sawyer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Marshall.”
I chuckled and said, “Steve. I would make the ‘Mister Marshall is my father’ joke, but he wouldn’t use the title here, either.”
She smiled, nodded, and said, “Call me Diane, please.”
“I’ll do that,” I said.
She motioned to a chair. I sat, she sat, and we were off.
Her first question was, “Tell me how you got involved with all of this.”
I shrugged a bit, then said, “The thing is, I could say ‘it just happened,’ and that would be entirely honest. But it also doesn’t ‘just happen.’ At least where I grew up, you started hearing jokes about gay people in junior high. Vague on the details, but the concept of two people of the same sex loving each other was out there. I tend to think about things like that, and it occurred to me fairly quickly that I couldn’t see anything wrong with it. It wasn’t for me, but that’s beside the point. Most religions aren’t for me, either, but I don’t disparage those who very earnestly believe in them.”
As I was speaking, I was trying to make sure I didn’t say something that would come off wrong when cut down to a sound bite. I was certain that was what was going to happen. That one reply was probably about as much time as I would get on the show, but I imagined I might answer six questions. They would select the part of the answer that worked for them. For that matter, part of what I had just said might turn into the television equivalent of a ‘pull quote’ and be detached from any specific question. It could easily happen.
“Interesting,” she said, nodding. “Go on.”
I paused just slightly, thinking. Cammie and Mel would understand if I mentioned them, and they might well come up, but I couldn’t reasonably mention Andy or Cal, even if it was in conjunction with them being ‘hoodwinked.’ I had answers if the investigative journalists hit me with a gotcha question, but I had a much better angle anyway.
“My sister Angie and I formed a study group in the fall of my freshman year in high school,” I said. “We met at Mike’s house. He was one of the group members. For New Year’s Eve, we had a party at Mike’s house. It was a very tame party, not one of those crazy high-school things...”
She chuckled at that and nodded.
“ ... since we were all nerds. But, during that party, I met Mike’s sister and her girlfriend. That put the question front and center. What did I think about Mike’s sister having a girlfriend? The answer was: I thought it was wonderful for them that they had each other. And that’s been the answer ever after.”
She nodded and said, “Within a month of that, you met more gay people, right?”
“I did! In the spring of my freshman year, I signed up for competitive debate. I’d already met one of the girls in the class, Janet Collins, on a math trip. She was quite a character at the time, and ... well ... unmistakable. Incredibly sharp and focused, but she played the stereotypical Valley Girl to the hilt.”
Diane nodded and laughed softly.
“Her debate partner was a more downbeat — but still friendly — girl named Lizzie Vinton. Now, Lizzie was as ‘out’ as you get in high school in 1981. Her nickname was ‘Lizzie the Lezzie’. It wasn’t at all public knowledge that Lizzie and Janet were a couple, but those of us in debate were around them constantly. They counted on us to keep their secret, and we did, for nearly two years.”
“Janet and Lizzie were the couple who made national news when they attended your high school’s prom in 1983, correct?”
I nodded again and said, “That’s correct. A lot of things had changed by that time, but not them. They’re still together to this day.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Tell me about what else changed.”
“One of our teachers encouraged a bunch of us to run for the student council. I was very surprised to be part of that group. Lizzie might have been more surprised to be included. Her race was ... nasty. The person she was running against said a number of very negative things about her. By some luck, I had the speech just before his and was lucky enough to sway people’s opinions. Lizzie won her race, and that seemed to go beyond just the student council. I think, maybe, in voting for her, a lot of people decided they were fine with her being openly lesbian.”
Diane nodded again, then said, “And you intervened again on her behalf at the prom.”
I nodded and said, “I was a junior at the time. One of the seniors asked me to accompany her, and I was happy to. That’s why I was there. When I found out Lizzie and Janet were going to attend as a couple, I asked some friends to watch for the press. A well-known Houston-area reporter was the first to arrive, and I was lucky enough to get his attention before he covered the prom.”
“We have a clip of that,” Diane said, chuckling. “But you can tell us what you said.”
“More or less ... well. My point was, if there was a story here, it was that, by and large, no one was upset. Now, that wasn’t universal. Some people were upset. But the great majority of the students supported Lizzie and Janet. Principal Riggs decided not to involve himself. Shortly, the two of them were just one couple among hundreds dancing. That, really, was the story. They didn’t want anything special. They just wanted what millions of people want — to go to their prom with their chosen date and dance. Now, if it were a religious school, fine. Religious schools can have their own rules. But Memorial is a public school. Why should a public school discriminate against students based on some religious rule about who they’re ‘supposed’ to love?”
She nodded, smiled, and said, “After that prom, various newspapers interviewed you. Eventually, President Reagan used some of your words in an address. When did you first hear about that?”
“I was at a summer debate workshop. My Dad left a message. It just said to read President Reagan’s July 4th speech. I did, and ... well, it took me a few minutes to pick my jaw up off of the floor.”
She laughed just a bit, then said, “So it was a complete surprise?”
“It was,” I said. “A very flattering one.”
“And that got you still more press coverage,” she said.
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