
My grandmother Mitzi introduced her friend Esther “Kitty” Buhler, who was a fellow writer and screenwriter, to the five-star General Omar Bradley, and they fell in love and married in 1966. The two couples – my grandparents, Sol and Mitzi, and the Bradleys – remained friends and would have dinner now and again.
I think I was nine or ten years old and visiting my grandparents in LA over the summer when they were invited to a dinner party at the Bradley’s home. Instead of arranging for me to stay with other family members, Mitzi called Kitty to ask if I could come along, and sure enough, the invitation was extended to include little me.
I didn’t have anything suitable to wear to such an occasion so Mitzi and I dashed out and bought something nice but my memory is it itched!

As we pulled up to their beautiful home, I was reminded to behave nicely and sit up straight at the dinner table, etc. Of course, I knew the drill. Whenever I was visiting family in LA I went with my grandparents and great aunts and uncles wherever they went – if that meant snoozing against someone’s shoulder in a booth at Nate n’ Al’s while they helped themselves to the bottomless cup and danishes, or nodding politely to conversations at dinner parties, that’s what I did. I had a comfort with much older people and was often the youngest in the room by 50 or 60 years.
It was from these experiences that I learned to listen quietly and subconsciously fell in love with old Hollywood through the many stories I heard about working in the ‘picture’ business.

As we moved into the dining room, I was directed to sit to General Bradely’s left. Suddenly I was nervous. I must have assumed I’d be popped in between Sol and Mitzi, quarantined away from the other adults, and someone important would sit next to the general.
I was awestruck.
Oysters in tiny glasses were served first and with my kid eyes they looked like exactly the last thing I wanted to eat. General Bradley must have been watching my reaction so he said:
‘Kid, you pick up that glass and every time I tap the table with my spoon, you swallow an oyster. Got i?’
Yes, sir! So that’s what I did. I loaded up the first oyster – TAP! Gulp!
Oyster. TAP! Gulp!
Oyster. TAP! Gulp!
I successfully ate a half dozen slimy oysters that way and got to see the famed five-star General Omar Bradley in action, even if I was a measly troop of just one skinny kid.
The rest of the dinner was a blur but I’ll never forget those oysters and the generous but commanding presence of one of the last of a breed of men who were true American leaders.
He died just a few years later in 1981. Kitty survived him by 23 years and only passed away in 2004.
Copyright 2017 Alicia Mayer. All rights reserved.
You must be logged in to post a comment.