“He says he does it all the time,” I said.
“He said he had done it. He did not say ‘all the time.’ ”
“He says they’re not dangerous,” I continued. “Think of the adventure! Few people in the world have an opportunity like this.”
The next morning, my husband and I joined Jim and the gun bearer—the man whose job it was to protect wayward tourists should something go wrong in the bush. We loaded into a Land Rover.
Before long, we found a group of seven bull elephants calmly standing in a copse of trees across from an open field filled with knee-high grass.
“Let’s go,” I said excitedly.
Still a good distance from the elephants, Jim warned us. “We will walk single file and I will lead the way,” he said. “Do not talk. Do not make a sound. Do exactly what I do and be very calm. You must not threaten them at all. That’s when they’re dangerous.”
Single file, we waded slowly and silently through the knee-high grass toward the enormous black bulls. They looked like tanks. Jim was at the front, and I was right behind him, followed by my husband and the gun bearer. Soon we were close enough to see every fold and crease in their skin, sniff their earthy smell, and hear them chewing. Jim and I were in so deep, we had an elephant on either side of us and could almost touch them. Then my husband saw a heart-stopping sight.
He lightly touched my back. “There are females… with babies,” he quietly hissed at me. Sure enough, through a screen of green leaves off to the side we saw a group of mothers and babies.
“Back… up… slowly…,” Jim whispered to me. I whispered the same to my husband—who didn’t have to whisper anything to our poor, petrified gun bearer. Silently, in single file, we gingerly stepped backwards, slowly, slowly, one step at a time. Then, to quote my husband, we ran like hell.
Still, as my daddy had taught me, fearlessness usually worked in my favor. My adventures with Lloyd were magical, and we did have some fun times, especially dancing.
But things change. Or maybe they just become clear. Lloyd missed his ten thousand employees and had to give orders to somebody. I was all there was, so the orders fell on me.
Lloyd was wonderful to me in so many ways. We traveled all over the world on incredible trips. He gave me wonderful gifts, including beautiful dresses and jewelry that I still wear.
Everything was fine… as long as no one else was included. The minute we got married, he didn’t want me to even talk to anybody. He monitored every phone call. We had very few friends. He really wanted just to be with me, so we had very little life outside the house or away from each other.
During the painful parts of my marriage, I needed something to distract me. I was fortunate to have a monumental task to throw myself into: the family’s house modeled after Mount Vernon. I was still working on the house when Bob Herring died and when I started dating Charlie Wilson. (Bob died before it was anywhere near finished.) I showed it to Charlie and could never understand his lack of enthusiasm. The first thing Charlie said when I told him I was going to marry again was, “Has he seen Mount Vernon?” That house gave me a purpose during the twenty long years of my marriage to Lloyd. Thank the Lord! Just as I had worked on TV to save my marriage to Bob King, I now tried to save my marriage to Lloyd by throwing myself into the house restoration.
I look at dilapidated buildings and see them rehabilitated. Every time we see an old building, Beau says, “Look, Mama, there’s your Christmas present. I can get it cheap!” Then he dissolves into laughter.
It took five horrendous years, but finally, Robin and I got the house restored. It is beautiful, has been in many slick magazines… and is more expensive to maintain than the International Space Station. It now belongs to my son Robin, who purchased the house when he was twenty-nine. Thank God he is young.
Unfortunately, this diversion could not change the truth about my marriage to Lloyd. We just were not suited.
It is still difficult for me to talk about this part of my life. Desiree Lyon, author, foundation head, and my best friend, saw the situation with clarity.
“I watched helplessly as you transformed from a confident, vivacious woman to a withdrawn, depressed waif,” she says. “Lloyd was always known to be difficult, but over time he became more so. You were the major target of his attacks. He placed on you the full weight of his personal happiness. You tried, but I could tell it drained you completely. Your friends attempted to divert your attention from him, but he seemed to consider this a threat. I know you felt that people would not understand the real situation and that you stayed out of obligation. When he wrote those letters to your friends saying that you had departed because you wanted to travel and that he could not because he was sick… well, people realized he was not sick. We just wanted you to have a life too!”
The situation with Lloyd occurred so gradually, I didn’t realize what was happening at the time. Lloyd and I were simply not supposed to be together. Our life goals were too different.
I am sure he did not realize that he was being controlling, but my friends did and felt sad. After twenty years of marriage, Lloyd decided to move to an assisted-living facility. He thought that withdrawing all of his money would be an incentive for me to move with him. But it played no part whatsoever.
I was done. I had tried and tried, but I couldn’t anymore. I wanted to stay in the condominium where we had lived, and I wanted my life back. Lloyd became even more difficult and began to threaten me with financial ruin.
“Lloyd,” I said, “let me buy anything that you think that I owe you. I do not want to go to a lawyer. I do not want a financial settlement.” I hate the hatred that springs from dividing money and belongings. (Bob King and I didn’t use a lawyer either.)
Lloyd threatened a lawsuit, but I paid him for everything. I paid for my Jaguar. I paid for our place at the Huntingdon in Houston (I had paid for three-fourths of it anyway). I bought my way out. I didn’t want to fight him. I walked out without asking for anything.
Not a single person ever asked me why I left Lloyd. Nobody said, “I’m so sorry about you and Lloyd. What happened?” They knew.
I felt like a used car left on the lot, but suddenly people who hadn’t paid me any attention for years reappeared in my life. I had been hurt by their absence, and only now was I to learn that they had tried to be there but had never been allowed.
My life bloomed. I walked into the sunshine of a new life, which God had planned very well. It took me out of the rabbit hole and into the light.
A year after our divorce, I received a handwritten letter from Lloyd. It meant so much to me. Maybe I had paid, too, for his many kindnesses by making him happy.
3/13/06
Dear Joanne,
For the first time in my life I now find that I have nothing to do of importance and nothing to look forward to—mostly idle time for reflection. Physically and financially I’m in good shape. My mind is in good shape but I realize I need some sort of stimulation.
After much thought, it dawns on me that our years together were the most satisfying and exciting of my life. So, what I’m getting ready to do is to record many highlights of those years which I can enjoy (and you, too) in future ones. This will be the most enjoyable endeavor I could do.
Love,
Lloyd
Lloyd’s letter meant so much to me. I had given him the best I had. He had been happy and had no regrets. He said our time together were the best years of his life. We had shared many happy moments and he had felt rewarded. I had paid my dues, and I was free.
Money would not be flowing freely down the river of my life, but I had enough that I had earned myself when I was a consultant to major companies, and I had land that I had bought from Bob King when we divorced. I had made enough to support myself for the rest of my life if I invested carefully. Darling Beau invested some of it in his deals, which made lots of money, so I was neither alone nor broke.
Swarms of friends, and even some gentlemen, returned, but more
than anything I wanted to be free to be me, to do the things I wanted to do, when I wanted to do them: spend my money; drive my car; dress up or not. For the first time in my life someone was not telling me what I should do, how I should live, what I should eat, or any of the whens, whats, whys, shoulds, and oughts that had governed every decision I had ever made. What was good for somebody else had hovered over my life and dictated everything I did—until now.
A whole new life unfolded. Mine was suddenly the life of a woman who, for the first time, was happy to live alone. Now there was no special man in my life. I was happy. There is a time in life for everything. I’ve been married three times—enough for anybody. Now… now I like my dog. When I became single, God saw to it again that I had not been totally forgotten. George Crile published his book, Charlie Wilson’s War. And I found myself right in the center of the movie it inspired!
CHAPTER 24
Red-Carpet Ready
Everybody wants to know what it’s like at a movie premiere and what you wear. The invitations for Charlie Wilson’s War suggested “business attire,” which makes it difficult to shine. At a premiere, you’re expected to shine. I wore a cream-colored satin designer top that was twenty years old and redone but still beautiful.
Universal had given me only twenty tickets to the December 2007 premiere. James Hackett, chairman and CEO of Anadarko Petroleum, offered his plane to fly me and my guests to the event. When a company lets you use its plane, the CEO pays for everyone personally, so this was quite a gift!
The night before the premiere in Los Angeles, Kelley and Robert Day gave a beautiful dinner. They have one of the largest private foundations in the United States and are always doing generous things. She is beautiful, he is elegant, their home is a Hollywood palace, and their parties are famous.
They invited many key people in the Los Angeles society world. One guest, Vicci Walters, was so rich that when husband Raoul bought her their house in Beverly Hills, he added a stable and riding trails by buying the houses around them at about twenty-plus million dollars each. They bought Cher’s home as a guest house! When he made Vicci the CEO of his company, she said she knew so little about business that she thought CEO meant “cocktails on every occasion.” Fun friends!
On the big day I visited the Kazanjians, old friends and the exclusive jewelers who’ve provided many of my best pieces, including my “working” diamond. They also own a tiara made for the queen of England. Madonna wore it for her wedding and I wore it when I was guest of honor at the consular where I was escorted by the grandson of the last kaiser. They said I might wear anything they had for the movie premiere. I tried on everything and chose an emerald necklace. Oh, joy!
I chose the emeralds because I had to think of a sound bite to give the media. Entertainment Tonight had come to Houston to film me and was now putting me on the air regularly. On the day of the premiere they were filming my friends and me as we tried on stunning jewels at the Kazanjians’ brunch. ET is the highest-rated entertainment news show on television, and Universal Studios expected me to promote the film. So I promoted.
I had to think of something snappy to say that the producers would like. When they asked me what I was wearing, I said, “Emeralds, of course. They’re green, the color of money.” Not exactly me—but Entertainment Tonight loved it. Remember, you must play the game.
I had planned to just pop in at a gathering of my friends, then head back to the hotel to rest before the premiere that evening. My friends were so much fun and so excited for me, though, that I couldn’t break away. I remember retreating to the hall to rest my Manolo Blahniks.
It had been like that for months before the movie came out. I gave newspaper and magazine interviews daily, sometimes three or four a day. The networks came too. It was exciting and exhausting. After twenty years of being trapped in a marriage, it was like being reborn.
Having my special friends and children there at the premiere was the best part of the whole exciting moment. My friend Mickey Rosemarin, the owner of Tootsies, Houston’s top dress shop, had paid for makeup artist Heidi Schultz’s plane ticket and hotel to come to the premiere to make me “red-carpet ready.” She worked on me gratis so that I would have everything that Julia Roberts had. This type of treatment was not provided by Universal but by my dear and caring friends.
I was touched when I read Heidi quoted in the Houston Chronicle: “It’s not always about the money. Joanne is full of grace and very kind. I think if she thought she could help you, she’d go to the end of the world. Especially if she thinks you’re truthful.”
I finally got to go back to the Four Seasons to dress.
We went to the premiere in a “green machine,” an electric car that traveled thirty miles an hour—period. The driver was Russian, ironically, couldn’t speak English, and had no idea where the premiere was to be held. Unfortunately, neither did we! We traveled to San Diego and back looking for it before we arrived at the theater… late!
I had missed walking in with Charlie, Julia, and Tom, which was too bad, but I had my sons, who looked devastatingly handsome; Beau’s lovely wife, Stanisse; Robin’s girlfriend, Miss Rodeo Texas runner-up Lacey Spitzenburger; and my best friend, Larry Brookshire.
Larry is my dearest male friend. Life would be awful without him! When journalists coyly ask about my relationship with the handsome, megarich, debonair Larry I laugh and tell them, “If you don’t have a brother, you get to pick one. He is it for me.”
When somebody asked him what he did at the movie premiere, he said, “I held the coats.”
I was so glad Charlie was able to be there too. He had had a heart transplant only a few months before. In fact, a cardiologist accompanied him from his home in Lufkin, Texas. I told reporters, “His recovery makes me so happy. I would have hated it if Charlie had missed it. This is his moment.” And it was.
The movie had great publicity and was followed with such interest that the media and paparazzi were there en masse. As I walked through the hundreds of lights from photographers’ cameras, I wondered if I could make it down that red carpet. I was blinded by the flashbulbs and couldn’t see a thing.
“Joanne,” they called, “look here… look here.” I have never experienced anything as difficult as that walk. I lost all sense of time, space, and balance. I just prayed I wouldn’t fall down!
At the end of that seemingly endless stroll, there were about ten small stages, about eight feet square, set up for the television commentators. They looked a mile high. Now completely blind, I thought, “Am I supposed to leap up on those things like a ballet dancer, look dazzling, and speak to someone I cannot see?” I was almost speechless by now. Even in LA, December is still winter for a Texas girl, and I was very cold and tired, stiff and almost stuttering as I tried to say something interesting to each without knocking the commentator off the crowded platform. Robin’s girlfriend clutched his arm to keep from falling too. The scene was as much fun as hiccups on a trampoline.
Once we were inside, Robin, Beau, Stanisse, and I were seated right behind Julia. Tom was there as well.
I had never seen the new script or a foot of the movie before it began, but I held my breath and thought positively. As the lights dimmed, the movie’s infamous opening scene of Charlie Wilson in a hot tub appeared. As soon as it began, I started to cry. I couldn’t stop. The tension from the months of anguish about how my life would be portrayed had left me weary and wondering if I would be able to survive another unkind scenario.
Through my tears, I realized that the film was great! It was intelligent, funny, and brilliantly executed.
Praise the Lord! He had done it again!
The point of movie premieres is to attract the press and to thank those who worked on the movie. The party after the Hollywood premiere was a huge gathering of people, a thank-you to the technicians and the many other people who play crucial parts in making a film. There were two tents: one for the cast and crew and another for the guests. Naturally, no matter how elegant
the party, everybody wanted to be in with the stars.
Buffets had been set up in every corner, covered with delicacies, everything from lamb chops and asparagus to chocolate soufflé and champagne (though not Cristal… even Universal has a budget). Lacking doggie bags, some guests were stuffing goodies into their coats.
Gary Goetzman, Tom’s business partner, appeared like a vision from heaven and introduced me to his beautiful wife, whose influence you could see in the film. Gary, who has the lean elegance of a leading man and is equally charming, took us to Tom, who graciously talked to everyone for as long as they wanted. I saw all of “Charlie’s angels,” the women who had worked in Charlie’s office and who had gotten a bad rap in the film. Charlie didn’t attend the party, though; after the film, he immediately boarded a plane to Houston with his doctor.
As for Julia, she was amazing. She was everything I should have been and more. I decided to clean up my act and be more like Julia playing me than me! “I’m thrilled,” I told the reporters after the premiere. “I told Julia Roberts that I loved the way she portrayed me. She was so sweet, and just radiated.”
She said to me, “I’m so glad you liked it. I did so hope you would.”
James Baker, the former secretary of state and treasury secretary, had come with his lovely wife, Susan, to see their daughter the talented Mary Bonner Baker play one of Charlie’s angels.
Amy Adams, who played Charlie’s administrative assistant, had swished down the carpet behind me in a tight-fighting long red dress. She looked marvelous, but “business attire” was left in the envelope with the invitation. Smart girl. Maybe that is a lesson: when it’s your moment, take it.
In truth, I didn’t know where I belonged at this gathering. I felt shy, like a little girl from Texas surrounded by big stars. Strangely enough, though, some people did want to meet me.
Aaron Sorkin, who wrote the revised script, is a word master. The sparkling repartee is so well written and so wisely witty that even I, who knew the story so well, enjoyed his imaginative words dancing over the pages.
Diplomacy and Diamonds Page 21