Fifteen Seconds of Fame
Miles of Memories
This column was originally printed in The Record more than a decade ago, but in light of Queen Elizabeth’s recent death and Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales, immediately ascending to the throne of Great Britain and Northern Ireland as King Charles, III, I wish to repeat this piece today for newer readers.
In 1977, while teaching senior English in Houston, I read information in the Sunday “Chronicle” stating England’s Prince Charles would be in town later that week on Oct. 25. As part of this visit he would be making a public appearance at the grand opening of Saks Fifth Avenue on Post Oak Lane, an area home to high end shopping and dining venues. Teaching an accelerated English Great Works class, I thought what a splendid opportunity it would be for my 18 students to see a real English prince in the flesh. On Monday, I hurriedly made arrangements with my principal to take my class to the opening on that date. I never got the connection for the store opening being included in his visit … perhaps he did not pack enough socks and underwear? The morning of his arrival began with horrendous thunderstorms throughout the area … not unusual for Houston weather. I supposed our trip would be cancelled, so I placed my dressy suit and heels back in the closet and left in the rain wearing my usual school day uniform of blazer, pleated skirt and Weejuns. My students were disappointed, too, as many stopped by my Home Room to complain. Yet, the storm began to weaken around mid-morning and at noon we were informed by the office our bus would be waiting as planned at 1 p.m. Before we left campus, I stood up front by the driver and delivered (as my students called them) my “Hitler” speech. I explained this was a very special occasion when we were given the opportunity to see royalty up close and if anyone even thought of misbehaving or causing any type of commotion at the scene, the ladies would not see life outside detention hall until the ladies went through “change of life” or the men would be eligible for Medicare. By 1:30 p.m. we were on the grounds outside Saks and positioned far back from the already large assembled crowd beside the sidewalk leading to the store’s doors protected by a red velvet rope. We waited.And waited … while the skies began to darken again. Soon, a drizzle appeared and umbrellas came out; once it became light rain some of the crowd began to head for their cars. When my kids begged (after all, they were missing chemistry and P.E.) I agreed we would try to wait it out. By 2:30 p.m. a steadier rain began to fall causing the people in front of us to leave and just before 3 p.m. my kids and I were able to move up to the velvet rope beside the walkway near the street. Even by sharing umbrellas we were getting wet, but we had conquered everything else that day so we stayed.
At a bit after the hour the mayor came out of the gold crested front doors and cut a ribbon – photographers shot their pictures – and the beveled glass doors opened. Well-heeled invited customers emerged from limousines and began walking down between the ropes and into the store. Though drenched from the waist down, we were steadfast in holding our prime viewing spot at the edge of the velvet rope. Television crews rushed to the scene at the sight of a black limousine pulling to the top of the sidewalk.
Cameras were mounted on photographers’ shoulders and microphones were placed in the hands of pretty reporters protected by umbrellas adorned with logos from Houston’s three major network stations. All eyes were focused on those gold-bordered doors though nothing happened until soon after 3:30 p.m.
Both doors swung open and men in dark suits walked out. They appeared expressionless, and though none were speaking into their wrists, we realized they were heavy security. And then we saw him! He was wearing a navy suit, white shirt and a burgundy striped tie. Until this moment, I’d never thought of Prince Charles as being handsome. But after this close-up view, my earlier opinion dissolved. He was handsome in his own way. He was tall, very proper with excellent carriage, and prince-like.
There remained nearer the doors a group of perhaps 20-30 people who had also braved the weather. Starting up the sidewalk, entourage in tow, he acknowledged them with a brief nod.
Yet, when he neared our spot, he hesitated a moment. He even put out his arm to stop the man carrying his large umbrella. Stooping, he asked one of my girl students, “Now, who is this young group?’
“We are a high school English literature class,” my student, Tamara, whispered in a shaky voice.
“Why are you here? Have you come to shop?”
Blushing, Tamara, quietly answered, “No Sir, to seeYOU.” She was afraid to meet his eyes.
Placing his hand over his heart, he replied, “Well, I feel honored you have waited in the rain.” Then, “Where is your school master?”
“She’s right here,” Greg spoke, pointing to me. He stepped back and offered me his hand (I’m sure it must have been frozen with nerves) so he covered it with his other hand.
“Ahh….a school Mistress! You do not resemble my old school mistress,” he smiled. (WHY had I not worn my suit and heels?) “What are you teaching this group of scholars right now?” I told him we were presently studying “The Prisoner of Chillon” and he quoted a few lines from the poem by Lord Byron still holding my hand.
“Tell me, do you think you could teach me this delightful Southern English that you speak?” “M..m..maybe,” I was able to
mutter. “Well, it is delightful,” he smiled before moving on to the waiting limo. That evening, on Channel 11, there was a special segment on his appearance. It began with the reporter saying “Today, Prince Charles arrived in Houston and responses ranged all the way from the apathetic” – a shot of an older woman holding an umbrella with an absolute deadpan expression on her face as she watched him emerge from the airport – “to the ecstatic…” and there was I jumping up and down outside SAKS screaming to my students, “He TOUCHED me!” Did you see? He held my hand in both of HIS!” “Did you SEE?”
Fifteen seconds of fame, dear readers, as I personally met now-King Charles, III. And the clout of my “Hitler” speech flew right out the window.
Former La Grange resident Brenda Miles can be reached at: brenstar61@gmail.com