Diana Ross: A Biography

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  The girls had all been fitted with tuxedos for the opening number, a nod to the high-class gamblers the Flamingo liked to portray as their most loyal customers. While Diana and Mary looked svelte and stunning in their outfits, Florence appeared dowdier in her larger version, though it was properly cut and sized for her. They put on their outfits for a dress rehearsal to see how they would look under the lights and also to run through the songs with the orchestra. It didn’t go well. Florence forgot some of the choreography she’d been doing for months, and at one point the rehearsal was stopped. “What the hell is this?” Berry’s voice boomed over the PA system. “Let’s take it from the top.” Both Mary and Diana looked at Florence, knowing it wasn’t either of them who had made any mistakes. They repeated the number with Florence improving slightly, but still not at her best.

  After the rehearsal, as Florence walked up the aisle of the house, heading out through the casino, she heard a murmuring from the back row of the darkened theater. There in the shadows was a pretty, black woman sitting with Berry and watching Florence leave. It was Cindy Birdsong. “It was as if he was just waiting for me to fail,” Florence would later say. “Him and his girlfriend [referring to Diana], just waiting for me to fail.”

  Florence’s birthday

  The Supremes’ performances at the Flamingo Hotel on opening night, 28 June, and on the night after that one went off without a hitch—four performances in all, two on each evening. Florence had dedicated herself to making the best of things, even though she wasn’t at all happy. After the first show on the 28th, she mentioned to one of Diana’s family members who was in town for the engagement that she was sure everyone in the organization would forget about her twenty-fourth birthday, which was on 30 June. “They don’t care about me anymore,” she told the Ross relative. “I’m not sure they’re even glad I was born, let alone wanting to celebrate it.”

  “I felt bad about it,” said that Ross family member many years later. “Her birthday was coming at a time when there was so much turmoil. I told her, ‘Of course, we will celebrate. We always celebrate birthdays round here, don’t we?’ She went on her way looking unhappy.”

  Diana’s relative swung into action. She called Mary to tell her that she thought they should have a party for Florence (interesting that she didn’t call Diana, though). Mary agreed. The Ross relative recalled:

  She said it was the right thing to do. She also said, “If we don’t do it, I’m afraid Florence will get so upset that all bets will be off and who knows what will happen? So, we’d sure better do something.” She called Berry and Diane and it was agreed that we would have a surprise party for Florence in Gwen’s suite [Gwen Gordy, Berry’s sister]. Gwen was doing everything for the girls at that time, acting as their secretary and one of their road managers. So, everyone went out shopping [on the 29th] to buy presents for Florence.

  On the morning of the 30th, the Supremes had a meeting about the act with Gil, Berry and the musicians. Diana pulled Gil Askey and some of the other players aside. “I think it’s hypocritical to have a big party for Florence after we just practically fired her,” she said. “It’s not right. It’s two-faced.”

  Mary and Berry overheard the exchange. By this time, Florence and Gwen had left the room. “Look, Diane, let’s just have the party,” Mary told her. “Why are you trying to ruin this for Flo? It’s her birthday. Come on, now!”

  “I’m not tryin’ to ruin nothin,” Mary. I’m just sayin’—”

  Berry cut in. “Look. I agree with Diane,” he said. “There’s something not cool about having a party for Blondie when we don’t know how this thing is going to work out with her. Maybe we should do something more low-key, just the three of you girls and Gil and a few others, not all of the band and friends and wives and all …”

  “I don’t have no opinion of this at all,” Gil said, trying to stay out of the fracas.

  Mary had a strong opinion, though. Everyone had already been invited. How would it look, she asked, if they now telephoned the entire company and said not to show up? And what would Florence think if she ever found out about it? “No, I think we should have the party,” Mary decided.

  “Well, fine. Have your party, then,” Diana declared, “But I ain’t goin’. You can count me out.”

  At this point Mary became angry. According to someone present, she turned on Diana. “Oh yes you are going, Diane Ross,” Mary said, using her first and last name, the way Diana did when she was enraged with someone, “and you are going to be happy, goddamn it, and you are going to wish her a happy, goddamn birthday, do you hear me?”

  Diana was taken aback by Mary’s forceful demeanor and language. She looked at her with wide-eyed astonishment. Berry just chuckled.

  “Okay,” Diana said, finally—all of this according to witnesses. “But, I’m telling you, it’s not right. You see, that’s the problem around here,” she concluded angrily. “Everyone is always smiling and acting like things are cool when things aren’t cool. Things aren’t cool at all.”

  Apparently, Mary wasn’t the only one determined to see to it that Florence had a happy birthday. Esther Gordy, Berry’s sister, who was also in town working on the Supremes’ tour, had her own ideas about the day. She liked Florence a great deal and wanted to be sure that the day was honored. She asked everyone to gather at the pool after sound check that day to play cards and have what she called “birthday snacks” with Florence. Diana and Mary both showed up, of course—Diana cradling her white Maltese dog in her arms. She wore a pantsuit with a splashy pattern of reds and yellows, a short wig and heavy eyelashes—camera-ready. In fact, Joseph Morgan, a Las Vegas tailor who was responsible for the girls’ wardrobe during this engagement—he had actually started working for the Motown acts in Las Vegas during the girls’ 1966 gig—was present for the party, and eagerly snapped photographs of everyone. Also attending were many members of the crew and the Gordy family as well as the spouses and children of some of the musicians and road managers.

  They all gathered around large round glass tables and enjoyed hors d’oeuvres that Esther had ordered from the hotel’s kitchen. “What? No birthday cake?” Florence asked. “Maybe later, girl,” Mary said. “Don’t be so impatient.” Joseph Morgan recalled:

  There was a lot of laughing and storytelling. Everyone was drinking Cokes. Mary was smoking up a storm, one cigarette after another. Somehow, a few fans got in and one had a scrapbook, which he gave to Diana. She thumbed through it and was saying things like, “Look at us here, we didn’t have money for good clothes at all, did we?” I remember her looking at one photo of them at the Copa and she said, “This picture makes it look like Mary and Florence are trying to push me off the stage.” And Florence deadpanned, “We were!” Everyone laughed. It was a good time. The only person missing was Berry, which was odd. No one said a word about it, though. At one point, Diana said she had a headache and wanted to go and lie down. She stood up, Pekinese [sic] in her arms, and walked over to Florence and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “See you later, Blondie,” she said. “Oh, and happy birthday.” I’ll never forget it. Florence had on these big round sunglasses. After Diana walked off, Flo lowered her head and peered over those glasses at Mary and shot her the funniest look, as if to say, “What in the world???” Mary just shrugged. Then, Florence said, “Okay, we can really have fun now that she’s not here to tattle on us to Berry.” I got the feeling that Florence disliked Diana.

  That night, the two shows were both sellouts. During the second performance, Diana mentioned that it was Florence’s birthday and everyone in the audience then sang the birthday song to her. After the girls got offstage, Mary told Florence to meet her in Esther Gordy’s suite for a nightcap. Florence agreed. About fifteen minutes later, when she and Mary opened the door to Esther’s suite, they found that it was filled with musicians, friends, miscellaneous Gordy family members and even some fans. Everyone shouted, “Happy birthday.”

  Florence was so stunned, she quickly slammed the
door shut. Behind it, the group started laughing. Florence opened the door again, this time very tentatively. She started to cry at the sight of so many smiling faces. As she stood in the doorway, everyone gathered around her and began to congratulate her, hugging and kissing her. Also among the throng was the great world champion prize-fighter from Detroit, Joe Louis, the legendary “Brown Bomber.” Now retired and living in Las Vegas, he had gone to the second show that evening. When he went backstage to say hello to the girls, he was told about the party and decided to surprise Florence with his presence.

  “Were you really surprised?” Diana asked, holding both of Florence’s hands, the two still standing in the doorway.

  “Oh my God, yes, I was,” Florence said. “I’ll say!”

  “Goodie, goodie,” Diana enthused. Then, she turned to Mary and said, “See, Mary, I told you she would be surprised.” For a second, according to witnesses, it looked as if Mary wanted to strangle her. However, she got over it quickly. “Well, you were right, as always,” she told her friend, taking the high road.

  Joseph Morgan was present for the party and took rolls of photographs. “All three Supremes were in full makeup, not having removed it after the show,” he recalled.

  They had, of course, changed from their gowns, but still had on their wigs. They looked pretty fabulous. Flo was seated in the middle of the room next to Joe Louis for a lot of the party. Someone brought out a little cake which said, “Happy Birthday, Florence” on it. Everyone sang “Happy Birthday,” she blew out the candles and then Esther started bringing over the presents. It was one expensive dress after another, all kinds of clothes and accessories. Diana gave her a beautiful silk robe. “Girl, this is way too expensive,” Florence told her. “Not for you, it’s not,” Diana said. Honestly, you would never have known there was any kind of problem between them.

  There was only one awkward moment, according to Morgan. In the midst of opening her presents, Florence suddenly stopped and looked around the room. “Hey,” she said, “where’s Berry?” All of the guests—maybe fifty of them—turned and searched the room as if expecting him to turn up somewhere, but he was definitely not present. “Well, that figures, I guess,” Florence said, suddenly seeming very sad.

  “Oh, yeah. Berry told me to tell you that he wasn’t feeling well, Blondie,” Diana suddenly piped up. “He said he really wanted to be here, but he didn’t want to be spreadin’ no germs, you know, with us having to sing, and all.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m glad he didn’t come,” Mary said, trying to act cheery. “The last thing I need is to catch Berry Gordy’s germs, I can tell you that much, ’cause those germs, boy oh boy, would they be stubborn,” she continued, now seeming to ramble as everyone watched uneasily. “I mean, that’s a cold that won’t be givin’ up easily, I can tell you that much. Boy oh boy, those are some germs. I mean, can you imagine being one of Berry Gordy’s germs? I mean …” She then just seemed to sputter, as if out of gas.

  The moment hung. Florence didn’t say a word. Finally, Esther Gordy broke the silence: “I say we all go down to one of the discotheques and go-go the night away.”

  “Not till I change out of this big ol’ wig and make-up,” Diana said, jumping from her chair and heading out of the room. “I’ve got just the thing to wear, too. Wait till you girls see it!”

  “Me, too,” said Mary, following her.

  By this time it was about two in the morning. Everyone went to their respective rooms and changed for a long night at a dance club. The girls and their friends danced and partied and drank until at least 8 a.m. A rehearsal was scheduled for noon. Therefore, they would only have a few hours of sleep. At one point Esther Gordy tried to get the girls to go to their rooms. “No way,” Mary said. “We’re only gonna be young once. We’re having fun for a change. There’ll be plenty of time for work … tomorrow.”

  Not over till the fat lady sings?

  The next morning, 1 July 1967, found the Supremes dragging themselves into the Flamingo Hotel’s showroom for a brief rehearsal. Not surprisingly, considering when they finally got to bed, each girl appeared to be hungover and exhausted. They sang two songs and went back up to their rooms to sleep for the rest of the day.

  That evening, Florence surprised stagehands by being the first to show up backstage. It appeared that while she was on time, she was also either still hungover or newly inebriated—it was hard to tell which. She was in a jovial mood, though, at least when she first entered her dressing room. Things changed quickly, however. Suddenly, it was as if the earlier happiness had never even occurred; Florence was extremely upset. She flung the door open and marched with purpose to have a word with the wardrobe people. She said that when she went to grab her outfit off a hanger, she found four—not three—identical tuxedos. Hers. Mary’s. Diana’s. And, another one. On the fourth outfit, where there was usually an embroidered name tag, was instead a plain label with the name “Cindy” written in black permanent marker. It was clear to her that not only were her days numbered, but maybe her time was up.

  “What is this about?” she demanded to know. She faced Joseph Morgan, the Las Vegas tailor, with fire in her eyes. “You tell me now, what’s going on?”

  “Well, Flo,” he began, “Mr. Gordy just said to have an extra outfit made in case … it … became,” he finished softly, “necessary.”

  “Fine,” Florence decided. “If they want a Supreme who can fit into this outfit, then that’s me. Now get out of here so I can change.”

  “I left the dressing room as fast as I could,” recalled the tailor. “I knew this was trouble, but I wasn’t about to stop her, I can tell you that much.”

  Florence then, apparently, donned the tuxedo that was meant for Cindy Birdsong.

  Mary and Diana both arrived backstage late, with just moments to change into their own tuxes, smear on some makeup and get on stage. They could see that Florence was in a bad and even angry mood, but there was no time to deal with it—plus, they didn’t seem eager to engage with her, anyway. They just needed to get in front of their waiting audience. Whatever was bothering Florence, they probably figured, would doubtless be bothering her later—and they would deal with it at that time. It was showtime. After they were introduced, the three Supremes walked out to a rousing reception, all smiles and singing “Put on a Happy Face,” as they did every night. However, it became immediately obvious that Florence’s outfit was not right. Her stomach stuck out, and the tux looked ill-fitting.

  Her appearance might have been acceptable, had she not been angry and maybe—not definitely, though, because no one knows for certain—intoxicated. (In her unpublished memoir, she did admit, “I had had me a few drinks that night.”) Throughout the show, she was off her mark and singing out of pitch. Mary did what she could to cover for her in the background, but it was difficult. Later, before “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You,” there was a bit of dialogue during which Diana was supposed to say, “I’ll have you know, thin is in.” Florence, à la Pearl Bailey, was then to respond, “Thin may be in. But, honey, fat is where it’s at.” On this night, when she delivered the line, she stuck her stomach out to underscore the joke and to expose her belly in a surprisingly unattractive manner. Again in her memoir, she admitted that she did it on purpose.

  Berry was sitting in the audience wearing sunglasses and looking very unhappy. He bolted up from his chair and headed backstage.

  When the girls finished the show, Florence went straight to her dressing room. Berry was standing at the door waiting for her.

  “I want you to pack your things, Florence,” he said, clearly angry but trying to hold it together. “You’re finished here.”

  “Berry, get out of my face,” Florence snapped as she pushed him out of her way and slammed the door.

  Berry then stormed from the backstage area and into the casino.

  If Florence was expecting peace and quiet in the dressing room, she was wrong. Diana was already waiting for her in there. “Now you’ve
really gone and done it,” she told her, according to others who were also present. Florence just looked at her without trying to defend herself. “I can’t believe you would do this to yourself, and to us. And for what? For nothing, Blondie. Nothing at all. I’m just so … so …” She was so angry and disappointed, she couldn’t even finish her sentence. With that, she left the dressing room and slammed the door behind her.

  Mary was nowhere to be found. She had, apparently, decided not to even go to the dressing room after the performance and instead went straight to her room in her gown, wig and stage makeup. It was difficult to believe that just a day earlier they were all celebrating Florence’s birthday. It was as if none of that celebration had ever taken place.

  Diana joined Berry in the casino, where a blackjack table was reserved for the two of them. People would often congregate to watch the duo win and lose large sums of money; a small Motown contingent was awaiting her. She must have also gone to her room because she had changed from her stage wear into a black, fox-trimmed coat with matching black leather boots. Someone rushed up to her—“Oh, my gosh, Diana! This really is my lucky day. Diana!”—and snapped her picture. She forced a small smile. Then, that person had his camera confiscated. “No photography in the casino, please,” he was told.