Host: Jenifer Hixson

[overture music]

Jenifer: [00:00:12] From PRX, this is The Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host, Jenifer Hixson. 

In this hour, three storytellers with vastly different approaches to telling stories. Each teller has their very own method for shaping, learning and presenting their stories. As you've heard, there are no notes allowed on stage at The Moth. 

Our first story is by Dion Flynn. Dion is a very funny and tender-hearted actor, teacher and writer. When he wrote to say, “I think I have an idea for a story,” I waited about zero minutes to give him a call, because I truly delight in hearing whatever he's up to. 

Dion works on his stories using something he calls a story map. He does a lot of improv and linear memorization doesn't work for him. His story map looks like streets in a village with words on each avenue and cul-de-sac. When he tells, he careens and sometimes leaps from one street to the next. The order of how his story unfolds is a little different each time. In New Jersey, where we partnered with the South Orange Performing Arts Center, here's Dion Flynn. 

[applause]

Dion: [00:01:16] Let's see, about six years ago, I got an email. And it said, “Our mother is dying-- It's complete strangers. “Our mother is dying and we need Barack Obama to come to brighten up her deathbed.” I don't know Barack Obama. I don't work for him. But for 10 years, I was a Barack Obama impersonator. [audience laughter and applause]

So, it made sense that they're writing to me. It wasn't just out of the blue. Anyway, yeah, so I did Obama on the Late Night with Jimmy Fallon and The Tonight Show, a bunch of TV appearances and things. Now, something happens when you portray Barack Obama on national television. Suddenly-- You don't expect this. Suddenly, people want you to come to their live events. So, I've roasted CEOs, I've been to mergers and IPOs. I did two Sheva Brachots. [audience laughter] 

I didn't even know what a Sheva Brachot was. I've been to two of them as Obama. I did a birthday party one time for a mafia connected woman with Alzheimer's. [audience laughter] It's a very niche gig. [audience laughter] These guys asked me one time, they wanted me to be in an adult film as Obama. [audience laughter] 

We're talking on the phone, and they're revealing to me that it's an adult film. And I'm like, “That is beneath the dignity of the office. How much does it pay?” [audience laughter] Because I got a kid, you know? I got a kid, I got a mortgage, I got a wife, I got to make that money. But I was reluctant. I was always a reluctant Obama. The Washington Post did a profile on 5 Obamas. I was one of them. There was the Bronx Obama, the Asian Obama. I was the reluctant Obama. 

I'll tell you why I was the reluctant Obama. When I was young, I would look at the dollar bill. I saw a white president. I looked at Mount Rushmore. I saw white presidents. I looked at that little paper strip above the chalkboard in my classroom. It was all white presidents. And I was like, “You know what?” We're never going to have a black president. I'm never going to be the president. I don't have to worry about it.” 

Here's the funny part. I used to do impressions of presidents even when I was young, because I'd see them on TV and I would make the kids laugh, like Ronald Reagan. I'd be like, “Well, let's suppose your mom baked a big blueberry pie,” something like that. [audience applause] 

Or, Richard Nixon, everybody can-- “I'd like to make one thing perfectly clear.”? So, Fast forward to 2008. And Obama becomes the president. We have a black president. I'm like, “What?” I'm living in New York City at this time. My comedy partner at the time was a former SNL writer. He comes up to me and he says, “Dude, SNL doesn't have anybody to play Obama. They're putting it out in the comedy community. You know this. Why aren't you auditioning for this? This seems like something you should do.” 

I said, “Listen, I'm not going to do it.” He goes, “Why?” I said, “Because-- I took the noble path.” I said, “This is our first black president. My impressions are rooted in mockery. I'm not going to mock this guy before he even steps into the space.” My friend who knew me, said, “Is it that or is it that you can't do the voice?” I was like, “It's a little bit of both.” [audience laughter] Yeah. 

A few years later, and I'm doing bits on late night television. I broke in a little bit and was doing weathermen, and magicians and stuff like this. And then, Obama starts to show up. He showed up on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. I saw his appearance and I was like, “This guy's funny.” Like, “He's got a sense of humor. He's not going to mind if I, little me does a little impersonation.” So, permission clicked in my head. And then, soon after, a producer from the show, he starts looking at me. He's got his clipboard. He starts looking at me, like I'm in a museum case or something. He starts looking at my head and my ears. He's like, “Could you play Obama, do you think?” And I was like, “My people need me. The time has come.” [audience laughter]

So, I have to figure out, I'm willing to do it. I have to figure out his voice. Now, the way I crack the code on Obama's voice, Obama's voice is like, it’s like a creaky old door and a chicken. [mimics Obama voices] “You know, a lot of people say that my voice is like a creaky old door and a chicken. Buck, buck, buck, buck.” [audience cheers and applause]

“I don't hear it. I don't hear it.” [audience laughter] And the cadence of his voice is a lot like-- It's a metaphor for the country. It's like this. Barack Obama's voice, it goes along like this here and then, it just falls. [audience laughter] It's like a sick bird that's flying from the north and all gets as far as Georgia, and then it just dies. So, that's the voice. I get it. I start doing it on television. It becomes popular. I do it like 50 times, and then people start wanting me to come to live events, and it pays. I need to make money. It pays well. 

So, I contact this guy who says, our mother is dying. He's out in Chicago. I'm in New York. So, I call him back. First thing he says to me is, “We tried to book the number one Obama, and we're down to you.” [audience laughter] I'm like, “Take it easy, buddy. You're not the only deathbed gig.” No, actually, you are. You are the only deathbed gig. So, I said, “Look, you need me, what, by the end of the week or whatever?” He's like, “I need you tomorrow. Tonight, if you can make it.” I was like, “What?” “I need you right away. She's not going to be here long.” I said, “Okay, okay, okay, okay. I've never done this quickly. So, you got to give me information.” 

“Okay, her name is Esther. What else do you need?” I was like, “I'll send forms. Fill those out. Have everybody that she knows, all of her friends, anybody you can get to email me these forms, and I'll come right out now. I'll glean the information. I'll write the jokes.” “Okay. Great.” So, 12 hours later, I'm on a plane. I don't sleep the whole time from hearing of this till getting there. So, the other thing you learn when you play Barack Obama on television and you start to interact with people, people love to tell fake Obama the real truth about stuff. So, I'm on the plane. I'm flipping through the emails, and they're telling the truth about Esther, “She's secretive. She buys way too many shoes. She was with a compulsive gambler for way too long. She's Mexican, but she's lived her life as if she's Italian.” 

What? What am I supposed to do with this information? I got to write jokes here. I'm going to tell you something. I want to do well at this deathbed. I want to kill at a deathbed, which is weird. [audience laughter] I know it's weird. I know it's weird to put it that way. Now, I go to the mirror and do the setup for Obama, because I got to put his ears out. I put these little sponges behind my ears, and I glue them with skin safe glue that they taught me to do this at NBC. Put on his mole in the mirror. I put on this stuff called topic. 

You just put it on, I spray Aqua Net fill in my hair, and then I have a sandwich baggie full of my own hair, which would be strange in any other job, I guess, other than this one. [audience laughter] Sprinkle those little cuttings onto my hair. More Aqua Net, more cuttings. Aqua Net and cuttings. And I'm like, “All right, there we go. We got it. Ready to go.” And then, I get into the presidential SUV, which they insist I rent. You got to rent a presidential size SUV. She's never going to see this SUV. But it's like being in a Martin Scorsese movie. If it's in the 1800s, you got to wear the underwear from the 1800s.

So, we drive over and we're in the suburbs of Chicago. We see a guy in the distance standing outside and he says, “Come on.” We go inside. Open the door. And in the middle of this large room is Esther. She's in a Craftmatic automatic adjustable living bed. And everybody else, her daughters and little children and friends, everybody, they are in the room, but they are as far away from her as you can be and still be in the same room. Nobody wants to be friends with death, but I got to go right in.

So, I go in, I got the jokes, I got the guitar. I say, “Esther, you know, the National Security Administration, you know, I have information on everybody. I know everything.” So, just to justify why I know this stuff. “So, why are you buying so many damn shoes?” She starts to giggle a little bit. She knows she's guilty. “You buying so many damn shoes. That's not fiscally responsible. You got more shoes than Imelda Marcos.” And she's laughing. I'm like, “All right.” 

And so, then I say, “This guy, this compulsive gambler you lived with for so long, that son of a bitch, why didn't you leave him?” This was before we don't do that to people. Like, we don't blame the victim for not leaving. I didn't know this back then, okay? [audience laughter] Sorry, old school jokes. But she laughed. Every time I called her ex-gambling husband, a worse name, she would laugh even more. So, I just kept going. So, we're having a good time, and she's giggling and then I say, “Come on, Esther, it's obvious you're Mexican. Why are you living like you're Italian? That's just like a lateral move. What are you-- [audience laughter] She is laughing. She is dying laughing. [audience laughter] 

She laughs so much that she becomes regurgitative. [audience laughter] She grabs her bucket and I'm holding her hand. We get through it. We get through it together. We're friends by now. And let me tell you something. You've never been in a surreal situation until you are dressed as a former president singing a Leonard Cohen song to a woman who will not be alive tomorrow. I have the guitar out, and I just go for it, singing hallelujah to her. “I heard there was a sacred court that David played and it pleased the Lord, but… you don't really care for music, do you? Is she shaking her head no? I'm like, “Well, what are you shaking your head no for? And you don't care for music?” And she's like, “No, I didn't vote for you.” [cheers and applause] 

Everybody starts laughing. I'm like, “What?” She has the best joke of the night. She kills at her own deathbed. “How dare you?” And she did. She had the line of the night. We wrap up and it's time to go. I'm packing up, and backing up and getting on out of there. Her little grandson comes over, as I'm leaving. He comes over, this little red sponge ball, and he wants to show me some up-close magic. When you play Obama as an adult man, you also do up close magic. It's just part of the profile. [audience laughter] 

So, we exchange a couple of tricks here. He won't let me leave. I'm like, “[chuckles]” We do it and it's very touching. Then I realized what's going on. Nobody's friends with death. And then, I'm thinking like, “Well, Abraham Lincoln said, ‘Do I not destroy my enemy when I make him my friend?’” In some way, we had all sort of made friends with death or made it a little bit lighter, but they do not want me to leave. And so, I say with a little bit of Obama kind of hope, you know I say, “Esther,” and I'm out the door, I get packed up, “Esther, when you feel better, I'll save a place for you in my cabinet. Now, I got to get back to the White House. Buh-bye.”

[cheers and applause] 

Jenifer: [00:14:01] That was Dion Flynn. Dion is the founder of the improvisorsmindset.com, which does team building and change management training worldwide. I have no doubt he makes it fun. To see a picture of Dion as Barack Obama, visit our website, where we'll also link to some fun clips of his television appearances. As for Esther, she never got a chance to join Obama's cabinet, but it seems did spend some of her last night on earth laughing, thanks to Dion. 

In a moment, a story about an extraordinary heirloom from the Kennedy family, when The Moth Radio Hour continues. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by The Public Radio Exchange, prx.org. 

Our next story was told by Carole Radziwill. As a seasoned journalist, she started work on her story with a long-written piece that included all the facts. Because we have a time limit at The Moth, we had to carefully choose which pieces best supported the story. She whittled it down and set each scene to memory. You might recognize her voice if you've ever caught Bravo's The Real Housewives of New York, where she quipped her way through six seasons. She told this story in Santa Barbara, California, where we partnered with Public Radio Station KCRW. Here's Carole Radziwill. 

[cheers and applause]

Carole: [00:16:15] When I turned 30, my husband gave me a Cartier Tank watch that had once belonged to his aunt, Jackie Kennedy. Now, I met my husband when I was working as a journalist. I worked for ABC News for nearly 15 years. So, by nature and training, I'm a rather rational and predictable person who believes in logic, and fact and science. But we all experience these events that defy logic that we simply brush off as coincidence, and sometimes they're called paranormal or metaphysical, some set in motion by a curse, like if you believe that nonsense. [audience laughter] 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I have to go way back to February 1963 to tell this story. Six months before I was even born. This particular watch was gifted to Jackie by Anthony's dad, Stas, my future father-in-law, to mark the occasion of a 50-mile hike, a challenge he had made with President Kennedy and the first lady while he was staying at their house for a weekend. Their house in Palm Beach. He would walk the hike the 50 miles, and when he finished, he got a steak barbecue, and Jackie got this watch and scripted on the back, to Jackie from Stas. February 23rd, 1963. This wasn't just any watch. This watch she wore nearly every day for the rest of her life. Eight months later, she was widowed when her husband was assassinated along a parade route in Dallas, and she was only 33 years old. 

So, fast forward three decades, it's 1994 now, and after Jackie passes away, the watch is handed down to her nephew, Anthony. That's how I came to have it. It's a simple watch with a white face with a gold and leather band. The inscription has all, but worn off on the back. And it was the year that we got married. We had a beautiful wedding on the beach at his mom's house in East Hampton. It was also the year that my husband was diagnosed with a really strange and rare cancer. 

Watches are like a unique piece of jewelry. They sit over your heartbeat, like absorbing your energy, like your life force, literally marking the passage of time. Time is your enemy when your husband has terminal illness. Five years almost to the day later, I lay on the hospital bed as Anthony took his last breaths. I was 34 years old. There's a picture of my mother in law, Lee, and I walking out of the church after the funeral, and you can clearly see this watch is on my wrist. I wore it for some time after that. I don't remember how long, but after a series of setbacks, which I attributed for absolutely no reason at all to this watch. I took it off and I put it in my top drawer where it lay undisturbed for nearly a decade. 

Now, when you're 34, as some of you might know, 10 years is a really long time, and a lot happens. I left my job, I moved downtown, I had a bunch of fun boyfriends and some not so fun. I made some girlfriends, because you realize when you're young and widowed, you don't have as much in common with your friends. One of these girls, her name was Cassandra, she's the kind of girlfriend you don't know you need until you meet her. We became instant besties, like real soul sisters. She had no connection to my past life. So, I wasn't constantly remembering or reminded of this life that I had once had. 

For the first time in a really long time, things felt good, like they should. I was happily in a new writing career. I had just published a memoir. Cassandra fell in love and moved to LA. I would visit her frequently on-- One of these trips, I noticed a portrait of Jackie that Cassandra had painted in a beginning art class. It reminded me of the watch, which I hadn't thought of in years. And so, I tell her about this watch-- I think she thinks it's absurd that this historical timepiece is in my top drawer. She's a proper girl with a dressing room and a safe, so I told her that I would send it to her for safekeeping. 

When I returned to New York, I mailed her the watch. It was the year that she got engaged. And like my husband, he was like the love of her life, and their wedding was filled with love and joy and magic, those kind of weddings. And then, shortly after the wedding, her young and healthy husband was diagnosed with lung cancer, though he never smoked. What are the chances of that? Like, two girlfriends, best friends going through the same exact, singularly unique experience. So, I just brushed it off as coincidence. It wasn't going to be the same as with Anthony. It couldn't be. 

Sure enough, like the first few years, the treatment was working, and no one even knew he was sick. And then, in the fifth year, like with my husband, the treatment just stopped working, and doctors started talking about clinical trials and experimental drugs. It was heartbreaking to see my friend go through the same exact experience. I started thinking about that watch again and getting that same uneasy feeling. So, I called Cassandra and asked her to send me the watch, because I had in my head this idea. I didn't tell her about my suspicions about a curse. Actually, I didn't even know what I thought at this point, but I had this idea in my head that if I got the watch back to its point of origin, that the curse would be broken. 

I had seen it like in an Indiana Jones movie, [audience laughter] like one or two. And so, that's what I was going to do. Like, sure, I was going to get the watch back to Cartier. [audience laughter] Okay. And so, the next week, I'm having dinner with my mother-in-law. She's now well into her 80s and frail. We would often have dinner, just the two of us at her apartment. I wanted to get her blessing, but also her advice. She was actually surprised I still had the watch. She hadn't thought about it in years. She started reminiscing about that time in her life and her husband and the hike. It was so nice, because she wasn't someone who was very sentimental and she rarely talked about that time in her life. So, I didn't want to spoil the night with like stories of curses and deaths. So, I said I didn't want the responsibility of having it anymore. She thought that was reasonable and suggested I call Christie’s's auction house. 

So, about a week later, I'm having a meeting with John Reardon, the International Head of Watches, like the big guy at Christie’s's. I tell them that I have this watch that once belonged to Jackie Kennedy and would maybe they'd be interested in selling it or auctioning it. And so, I take the Ziploc bag out of my purse, slide it across the desk. Now, you have to understand, John is a very tall and elegant man, but he's a man who's obsessed with timepieces. So, he quickly takes it out of the Ziploc bag and puts it on a black velvet tray and he's staring at it like it's the Hope Diamond or something. He looks up at me, back at the watch and he's like, “Was this watch in that Ziploc bag for 25 years?” I was like, “Obviously not. It was in a tube sock in my top drawer, protected.” [audience laughter] I thought he was going to faint. 

He asked me how I came to have this watch. So, I tell him my name, which he may or may not have connected. I explain the story that explains the inscription now very faded on the back of watch. He can't believe his luck, because unbeknownst to me, Christie’s's had been working all year long on an auction titled Rare Watches and American Icons. It was coincidence. They had already gotten the watch of President Johnson and Joe DiMaggio and a small time New York gangster named Bumpy Johnson. 

So, I told him that they should-- I didn't want to tell him anything about my suspicions about the curse, because then I thought maybe he wouldn't want the watch. [audience laughter] So, I just say to list the provenances, Radziwill family. I casually mention, “Are you going to call Cartier?” And he said, “Yes.” Of course, he'll call Cartier the next day. He had called Cartier in Geneva, the headquarters. So, I was like, “Yes,” like the mothership Geneva. [audience laughter]

The next few months, John took the watch around the world, showing it to high end collectors in the Middle East, and Asia, and to Cartier in London, and Hong Kong and Geneva. As the watch toured around, Cassandra's husband got sicker and sicker. And then, he died too. Cassandra had just turned 39. And a month later, 54 years after the watch was first gifted to Jackie, Christie’s puts it up for auction. Cartier is bidding on it aggressively. And the last moment, they lose out to a mystery buyer on another phone. So, I don't have this, like Indiana Jones moment, but I feel good. I feel such a sense of relief, because it's not my problem anymore. Like, it's somebody else's problem, someone I don't know and someone far away. 

About a few days later, John calls me. Apparently, they don't usually reveal who gets things at auction, but he told me that there was going to be some press. Okay. And that's how I learned that Jackie Kennedy's watch was bought by Kim Kardashian. [chuckles] This was many years before she at least publicly expressed any interest in anything Kennedy. I don't know Kim well, but I've met her a few times and we had some mutual friends. She was in my sphere of existence. I'm like, “Wow.” I'm processing this in New York, she's in LA. Through the grapevine, she's hearing about some curse. [audience laughter] 

So, she calls Shelly, our mutual friend, one of them, and Shelly calls me. Now, Shelly's not the kind of woman who-- She definitely doesn't believe in curses or any nonsense. She's like, “What is this I hear about a curse? Kim is freaking out. Obviously, she wants to protect her family. She wants to give you the watch back.” [audience laughter]

I'm like, “Literally, this watch is not letting go of me.” It's like that moment like in the horror movie when the girl escapes the house and she's free, but she's sitting by the lake and it's quiet, and then the hand reaches up and drags her back in, that's how I'm feeling right now. I want to scream into the phone to Shelly, “Tell Kim not touch the watch.” But I'm super paranoid and I don't want to give this curse any more energy. Clearly, I've underestimated the power of it. [audience laughter] 

So, instead, I tell Shelly the facts, that three women were in possession of that watch and all three were widowed in their 30s. I could hear Shelly's silence on the other end of the phone and connecting the dots in the way that I did. We hung up. And a few months later, Christie’s sends the paperwork, and it's all done. I never hear about the watch again, or so I thought. [chuckles] 

Fast forward a few years, now it's 2019, and a friend of mine randomly sends me a photo of Kim from her show. She's wearing Jackie's watch, but it's slightly different, noticeable only to me. So, I zoom in, and it's a Cartier Tank watch, that's for sure, but it's not Jackie's watch. So, I called John, and I hadn't seen him in a few years and make a date to have lunch. And after some small talk, I show him the picture and I tell him what I know. He already knows that this isn't Jackie's watch. He offers an explanation, but honestly, he doesn't really understand what happened, other than Kim called his office a few weeks after the auction, after she had done all the paperwork, and paid for the watch and said that she was not going to take possession of it, that he should just sell it. 

John, being an elegant man who's obsessed with timepieces, was just blown away by this. He just didn't understand what was going on. He thought maybe it was like some reality show thing. So, I asked him, I'm like, “John, where's the watch?” He said, it's still in the vault under Christie’s at Rockefeller Center, right below us. I'm like, “Damn.” [audience laughter] So, I tell John everything. Like, everything, and the curse. He's listening. His eyes are wide, because it turns out that John too is a believer, and this isn't his first cursed watch. There were others. [audience laughter] 

A few months later, I read in a magazine that Cartier had quietly bought the watch back, where it remains to this day, in their vault under their mansion at Fifth Avenue. So, I got the watch back to Cartier. So, we are all safe now. [audience laughter] [audience applause]

I would posit that if you believe in blessings, you should at least entertain the existence of curses, much like there can't be love without hate or courage, without cowardice or good luck without bad. What is a blessing if not just the absence of a curse? Boo. 

[cheers and applause]

Jenifer: [00:30:38] That was Carole Radziwill. Carole is an award-winning journalist who started her career at ABC News where she first met her husband, Anthony. She's traveled the world covering stories and has three Emmy awards. She's also a best-selling author. To see a picture of Carole with her husband, Anthony, or to find a link to the Christie’s's auction notice for the Cartier Tank watch in question, visit themoth.org, where you can also find the story or pitch a story of your own. 

In just a moment, a baseball game where a big sister tries mightily not to disappoint her little brother, when The Moth Radio Hour continues. 

Jay: [00:31:54] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX. 

Jenifer: [00:32:07] You're listening to The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jenifer Hixson. And in this hour, we've been talking about how people prepare and tell their stories. 

Our final story is told by Michaela Murphy. Michaela’s the kind of storyteller who's able to transport herself emotionally deep inside the story as she tells. It feels as if she's living through it in real, as she says, “I just try to be back in it.” In Portland, where we partnered with Literary Arts and Oregon Public Broadcasting, here's Michaela. 

[applause]

Michaela: [00:32:39] I'm very happy to be in Portland, because it reminds me a lot of my hometown, Providence, Rhode Island. When I was a little girl, on every Sunday after mass, my family would make a beeline for the living room and we'd all take our places. My father would sink into his La-Z-Boy recliner, channel 38, and Take your shoes off, put your feet up. It's time to meet up with the Boston Red Sox. Boston's for the Boston Red Sox. Relax, relax and drink a Budweiser. [audience laughter] 

We'd all watch the screen riveted, because the quality of our lives was about to be determined by the Boston Red Sox for the rest of the week. We would all hold our breath and watch for Carl Yastrzemski’s next at bat, Don Zimmer's big plan, oh, and that great Green Monster. If the Red Sox won, pizza for dinner. When they lost, my mother cooked and we ate in silence. We all hoped, and we all longed for the year. It was going to be our year. And the Red Sox, they were going to win the series. 

When it did finally happen, my dad didn't see it. He died suddenly when I was 16 years old watching a Red Sox game. The medical consensus was that a steady diet of beer, cigarettes and Vienna sausage killed my father. But I was there. I know the Red Sox did it. [audience laughter] 

At my father's funeral, as his best friends carried the world's greatest Red Sox fan from the church out to the cemetery, the entire congregation stood up. Together, they sang, Take Me Out to the Ball Game. I haven't felt the same about baseball since. Now, my heartbroken family foisted the whole Red Sox mantle onto my little brother, Tim, who was six years old. And that same summer, there were baseball action figures, and baseball camps and birthday cakes in the shape of a baseball diamond. My Aunt Eileen, who was a nun, a Sister of Mercy, actually hired Red Sox players to come to my brother's birthday party. So, we had Wade Boggs and Denny Doyle in our living room. Now, I would have nothing of it. I just stood there right in the middle of the whole thing reading Sylvia Plath and rolling my eyes. [audience laughter] 

I hated baseball now. I didn't want to see another game again, and I dreaded the next season. But I needn't have worried, because the next year was 1981 and it was the summer of the baseball strike. Baseball had been silenced. And then, in the middle of that summer, I get a call from my Aunt Eileen the Nun. “Hi, Keyla. It’s Aunt Eileen. Listen, I just won two tickets to the All-Star Game in Cleveland, Ohio with WJAR radio personality, Norm Sherman. And tomorrow, I'm leaving to go to Rome, Italy, the Vatican, for an audience with the Pope. So, I was wondering, if the strike is resolved while I'm with the Holy Father, would you, could you take your brother to the game?” [audience laughter] 

So, I figure this is never going to happen. So, I say, “Sure, Aunt Eileen.” And she says, “You'll get a call.” So, my Aunt Eileen goes to Italy. She is not gone like six hours and the baseball strike is resolved. The very first thing that the baseball commissioner does is to reschedule the All-Star Game for that Tuesday to build up the morale of the disillusioned fan. I get a call, I'm told to meet all of the other WJAR All-Star winners at the Providence Bonanza bus station at 04:30 in the morning. Tell them you're Murphy, are my only instructions. 

So, I was living in Newport, that summer. So, the night before the game, I take a bus to Providence and I stay over at my mother's house. I'm 17 years old now, and my little brother decides that he's going to wear his little Red Sox outfit to bed, so that he'll be all ready to go when the alarm goes off at 03:30. So, I set the alarm, and we go to sleep, and the alarm goes off at 04:30. At 04:30. So, the whole house is up, and everybody's screaming and blaming, and I'm just like, “Get in the car. Get in the car now.” 

So, we get in the car, we drive through the still dark streets of Providence, we run into the Bonanza bus station and screaming, “I'm Murphy, I'm Murphy.” There are all these old guys standing around with coffee cups and they're like, “You're Murphy. They were waiting for you. They just left.” I'm like, “Oh my God. Where'd they go?” “Logan Airport.” “What airline?” “I don't know.” So, we're just standing there, and we're looking at this empty bus lane. My little brother is standing there in this little baseball outfit with a catcher's mitt like dangling off his arm. He looks like an ad for the Jimmy [unintelligible [00:37:39] [audience laughter]

He's standing there. My mother looks at him, and then she looks at me and she goes, “Poor little guy. He's been through a lot.” And I say, “I know what we'll do. I'll go to the bank and I'll take out the $300 that I've saved up this summer waitressing in Newport, and then we'll go to the airport and we'll get two one-way tickets to Cleveland, Ohio, and then we'll go to the stadium and then we'll get there before the first pitch where I know from my dad that they don't make personal announcements after the first pitch, and then we'll have them make announcement to Norm Sherman that we're here and we'll see the game.” My mother just looks at me and she says, “That's a great idea.” [audience laughter] 

So, we go to the bank, I get the money, I go to the airport, I go to buy two tickets to Cleveland. But I can't buy two tickets to Cleveland, because that summer in 1981 was also the summer of the air traffic controller’s strike. So, in order to get to Cleveland on time, if our plane left on time for Providence, we could take a plane to Pittsburgh. If that plane left on time, we could get to Cleveland in time for the game. So, I buy the two tickets, and we get on the plane, and my little brother is sitting there and we're waiting and the plane's not taken off. And we're waiting and the plane's not taken off. And then, all of a sudden, all of these other passengers start to bail, because their connections are totally hopeless at this point. 

I know I should get off this plane, but I can't. And so, I do that stupid thing, you know, like where you go up and you ask somebody in authority if they can do anything when they can't possibly. So, I go up to the flight attendant and I ask her if there's something she can do, and she's like, “No.” And then, she gestures to the empty first-class cabin and she says, “You can move up to first class if you want.” So, my brother and I are sitting in first class on a plane that's not going anywhere. [audience laughter] 

We're sitting there and my brother is going on and on. He had this amazing knowledge of baseball, all these statistics, and he's talking about the starting pitchers and he's wondering where in the lineup will his favorite player be, Mike Easler of the Pittsburgh Pirates. And to the point where the guy across the aisle from us puts down his Wall Street Journal, and he looks over and he says, “Hey, are you guys going to the All-Star Game?” I say really, really loud, “Yes, we are. Yes, we are. Yes, we are going to the All-Star Game.”

And then, finally, an hour and 40 minutes after its scheduled departure, our plane takes off for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. So, then, I'm standing at the baggage carousel in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We have completely missed our connecting flight to Cleveland by an hour. I have $13 in my pocket. I'm standing there with my little brother, and I'm kind of like, “When the guy from first class comes up to me and he says, ‘Hi, my name is Pete, and listen, I know you're trying to get to the All-Star Game, and I was thinking that maybe I could rent a car, because I'm going to Cleveland too, and I could drive you.’” 

I think this is exactly what they tell you never to do. [audience laughter] Never accept an interstate ride from some guy named Pete that you meet at the baggage carousel in Pittsburgh. When I look at my little brother and I think, like we could die and I say, “Let's do this.” [audience laughter] So, Pete rents the car, and he's in the driver's seat, and my brother's in the middle, and I'm on the end and we are driving to Cleveland to get to this All-Star Game. Pete cannot believe my brother's knowledge of baseball. He's just blown away by what my brother knows. He also cannot believe that our mother, not only knows about, but has endorsed this trip on our own. [audience laughter] 

You see, he's concerned, because he has a daughter who's about my age, and he has a son just like Tim. I look at him and I think, we had a dad just like you. So, Pete drives us to this main box office area. I walk in, and Pete decides he's going to come with us and he's got our suitcase, and I've got my little brother and I walk in saying, “I'm Murphy,” which of course, means absolutely nothing to them. I start to tell them that we're with this WJAR thing and are there any tickets. And, of course, there aren't any tickets. And then, my little brother asks him, “Hey, mister, has Mike Easler been up to bat yet?” 

The guy looks at my little brother, and then he holds up his hand and he says, “I'll be right back.” He disappears. But when he comes back with this more superior box office guy. I start to tell him the whole story. He just puts up his hand and he says, “How many tickets do you need?” And out of my mouth, I didn't even think about this, I just say, “Three.” Pete looks at me like, I'm like this scam girl from Rhode Island, you know? [audience laughter] Like, it's my thing. [unintelligible [00:42:14] I just go around conniving my way into all of these major league events, you know? [audience laughter]

The guy lifts up the counter and ushers us in. We come in, and we're told to leave our suitcases there, and we can leave the car where it is and then we go into the Municipal Stadium. We're in the underbelly of it, and we're going down all these hallways and then all of a sudden, I start to hear it, that sound of baseball. And then, we follow this guy. We start to go up this ramp, and the sound gets louder. And then, as we go up the ramp, I begin to see it, this sparkling, unbelievable flashes of cameras all around us. And then, I'm standing there and I suddenly look down at the field, at the baseball diamond, and I see nine men standing there ready to play baseball. And then, my brother nudges me, because the usher's taking us to our seats. 

We go over to our seats, which are two rows behind then Vice President George Bush. It’s like, oh, my God. So, we're sitting there and then this usher, he's wicked into it. So, he starts sending over hats and souvenir stuff. The game is wild. Like every hit is a run. It's amazing. I wasn't even watching it. Pete and my brother were watching the game. I was frantically looking through 72,000 people trying to find Norm Sherman. I'm looking for, I don't know, like a sign, like a motel room sheet that says, “Murphy, we're here.” It's not until the seventh inning that I realized that Norm Sherman is a radio personality. I have no idea what he looks like. [audience laughter] I'm actually sitting there looking for a voice. 

It's the seventh inning, so it's a seventh inning stretch. So, everybody stands up to sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game. They're singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game and I'm just standing there. When I look over and I see Pete just toss his arm around my brother, and they're singing this song. I look at them and I just think, thank God I said three. When Pete suddenly throws his arm around my shoulders, and together were singing, and it's one, two, three strikes, You're out at the old ball game, and then it's over. National League five to four. 

What had been this shared experience with 72,000 people came to an end, because 72,000 people got up to go home, and I had $13 in my pocket. That's when Pete said, “Well, I guess you're coming home with me.” So, we retrace our steps. [audience laughter] We get our suitcases. And then, the other goofy thing is like there's no post-game traffic for us, because we just hung onto the coattails of George Bush's motorcade and just sailed out of the stadium. [audience laughter] It was wild. 

We're on this highway going north of Cleveland, and we're driving through the night. And then, Pete gets off of the highway, and we're driving down this dark road, and then he turns down this other dark road, and my little brother, Tim, is asleep in my lap when Pete suddenly stops the car. And then, he lowers the window, and there's this keypad, and then he punches in some numbers, and then all of a sudden, these lights come on, and they illuminate this wrought iron gate. Written into the top of the wrought iron gate, it says Goodyear. And then, these gates swing open, and Pete Goodyear drives us onto his palatial estate. [audience cheers and applause]

I am like, “Oh, my God.” So, then, Pete picks up my brother, and carries him into the mansion, [audience laughter] and calls over his shoulder to me to get my mother on the phone. So, I go and I get my mother on the phone. I get her on the phone. This is what my mother says to me. Pete's listening in on an extension, so hears this. “Oh, Michaela, thank God it's you. I got the Cleveland police on the other line. I was watching the game. When I didn't see you, I got worried.” [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause]

Suddenly, it's all making sense to Pete. But Pete reassures my mother, who's not particularly worried at this point, that we will be sent home tomorrow on a plane to Providence. “Okay, have a good time.” [audience laughter]

So, the next day, we wake up and this maid has made breakfast. Pete takes us on a tour of downtown Cleveland, and then to his investment banking firm, where his perplexed secretary arranges for two flights to Providence. And then, we get to the airport. Here's the other thing, okay? So, it's the air traffic controller strike. So, our plan, of course, is totally delayed, but so are all of the All-Star players. So, my brother and I just go to all of the domestic gates, and he gets these amazing autographs from including Mike Easler of the Pittsburgh Pirates, and he still has these to this day. 

And then, we finally got on the plane, and we fly to Providence. We get off the plane, and I see my mother down at the end of the gangway, and I just inexplicably burst into tears. She's completely confused. She's like, “What's wrong? I thought you had a good time. Come on now. What happened?” My brother looks at her and says, “Kind of everything, ma.” [audience laughter] 

And so, then, my mother takes me to the bus so I can go back to Newport. So, I'm on the bus back to Newport, and honest to God, on this bus are these two guys, and they're wearing WJAR All-Star hats. So, I look at them and I go, “Hey, you, guys, did you go to the All-Star game?” And they're like, “Yeah.” And I say, “I'm Murphy.” And they go, “You're Murphy. We waited for you.” [audience laughter] And I say, “I know. I missed the bus.” They’re like, “Yeah, you didn't miss nothing. By the time we got there, the game was half over. Our seats sucked, the food sucked. How'd you make out?” [audience laughter] And I said, “I had a good time.” Thank you so much. 

[cheers and applause]

Jenifer: [00:48:23] That was Michaela Murphy. Michaela is an award-winning writer, playwright, director and educator. She started telling stories with The Moth at the very, very beginning when the shows were in smaller clubs in New York City. I was in the audience way back in 1999 when she first told this Big Sister Little Brother tale. I worked somewhere else at the time. And by the end of her story, I thought I need to quit my boring job and start working with people like this. And here I am. Thank you so much, Michaela. To see pictures around the time of the story and some of Michaela's brother, now a father, tossing the ball to his kids, visit themoth.org. 

That's it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. I want to thank all the storytellers in this show, each with their unique way of preparing stories and bringing them to the stage. Someday, we hope we'll hear one from you. 

[overture music]

Jay: [00:49:28] This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Jenifer Hixson, who also hosted and directed the stories in the show along with Joey Xanders. Co-producer is Viki Merrick. Associate producer, Emily Couch. 

The rest of The Moth leadership team included include Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Jenness, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Lee Ann Gullie, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson and Aldi Kaza. 

Moth stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from Lionel Hampton, Darol Anger, and Pokey LaFarge, and the South City Three. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. 

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.