The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Obama, Jackie, and the All Star Game

Episode Date: May 7, 2024

In this hour, a professional impersonator gets an unusual gig, a journalist is befuddled by the facts, and a brother sister duo who really love baseball. This episode is hosted by Moth Senior Director Jenifer Hixson. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media.Storytellers:Obama impersonator Dion Flynn gets an unlikely gig.Carole Radziwill is gifted a watch that belonged to Jackie Kennedy.Michaela Murphy takes her little brother on a cross-country adventure to see an All-Star Game.Podcast: 866

From PRX, this is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host, Jennifer Hickson. 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 in 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. 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, 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. So, so it made sense, you know, that they're writing to me. It wasn't just out of the blue.

Anyway, so, yeah, I did Obama on, you know, 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, and 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,

and I did two Sheva-bruchas. I didn't even know what a Sheva-brucha 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. It's a very niche gig. These guys asked me one time, they wanted me to be in an adult film as Obama.

We're talking on the phone, you know, 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? 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 five 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 like Mount Rushmore, I saw white presidents. I looked at that little paper strip

above the chalkboard in my classroom,, 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,

you know, because I'd see them on TV and I'd make the kids laugh, you know, like Ronald Reagan, you know, I'd'd see him on TV, and I'd make the kids laugh, you know, like Ronald Reagan, you know. I'd be like, well, let's suppose your mom baked a big blueberry pie. You know, something like that. Or... Or... Or Richard Nixon.

You know, everybody can, you know, I'd like to make one thing perfectly clear. Right? So fast-forward to 2008, and Obama becomes the president. We have a black president. I'm like what? And I'm living in New York City at this time and my comedy partner at the time was a former SNL writer and 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 gonna do it. He goes, why? I said, because, and I took the noble path. I said, this is our first black president and my impressions are rooted in mockery. I'm not gonna mock this guy before he even steps into the space. And 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. You know. So I'm doing bits a few years later and I'm doing bits on late night television.

I broke in a little bit and was doing like weatherman and magicians and stuff like this. And then Obama starts to show up. He showed up on late night with Jimmy Fallon. I his appearance and I was like this guy's funny like he's got a sense of humor he's not gonna mind if I little me do 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 like looking at me like I'm in a museum case

or something. He's, like, looking at my head and my ears. He's like, could you... could you play Obama, do you think? And I was like, my people need me. The time has come. So I have to figure out, you know, I'm willing to do it, you know,

and 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. Uh... You know, you know, a lot of people say that my voice is like a creaky old door and a chicken. But, but, but, but, but, but, but.

I don't hear it. I don't hear it. 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. It's like a sick bird that's flying from the north, and it all gets as far as Georgia, and then it just dies.

So that's the voice, and I get it. I start doing it on television. It becomes popular. I do it like 50 times, you know? And then people start wanting me to come to live events, and it pays. You know, 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. I'm like, you know, take it easy buddy, you know. You're not the only deathbed gig, no actually you are. Oh, you are the only deathbed gig. No, actually you are. Oh, you are the only deathbed gig. So I say to him, I say, 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 gonna be here long. I said, okay, okay, okay. I've never done this quickly. So you gotta 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 and 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. Okay.

So the other thing you learn when you play Barack Obama on television and you start to like 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 gotta write jokes here. And I'm gonna tell you something, I wanna do well at this deathbed. I wanna kill at a deathbed, which is weird. I know it's weird.

I know it's weird to put it that way. And now I gotta go into the mirror and do the setup for Obama, because I gotta put his ears out. I put these little sponges behind my ears and I glue them with SkinSafe glue that they taught me to do this at NBC. Put on his mole in the mirror.

I put on this stuff called Topic and you just put it on, I spray Aquanet, fill in my hair, you know, 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. Sprinkle those little cuttings onto my hair, more Aquanet, more cuttings, Aquanet and

cuttings, and I'm like, all right, there we go. We got it. We're ready to go. And then I get into the presidential SUV, which they insist I rent. You got to rent a presidential-sized SUV. She's never going presidential-sized SUV. She's never gonna see this SUV, okay? But it's like being in a Martin Scorsese movie. If it's in the 1800s,

you gotta wear the underwear from the 1800s, you know? So we drive over, and we're in the suburbs of, you know, Chicago, and we see a guy in the distance standing outside, and he says, come on in. Go inside, open the door, and in the middle of this large room is Esther, and she's in a kraftmatic, 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 deaf, you know? But I gotta go right in. Okay, so I go in, I got the jokes, I got the guitar, I say, you know, 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, you know, why are you buying so many damn shoes? And she starts to giggle a little bit. You know, she's like, she knows she's guilty. You're buying so many damn shoes.

That's not fiscally responsible. You got more shoes than Amel DeMarcos. And she's laughing. I'm like, all right. And so then I say, this guy, this compulsive gambler you live with for so long, that son of a bitch, why didn't you leave him? And now this was before we don't do that to people. Like we don't blame the vicar for not leaving. I didn't know this back then. Okay. Sorry. Old school jokes. But she laughed. And every time I called her ex gambling husband a worst name, she would laugh even more.

So I just kept going. So we're having a good time, and she's giggling, and you know. And then I say, uh, you know, come on. Come on, Esther. It's obvious you're Mexican. Why are you, why is she living like you're Italian? I mean, that's just like a lateral move. What are you...

And she is laughing. She is dying laughing. And she laughs so much that she becomes regurgitative. And she grabs her bucket, and I'm holding her hand, and we get through it. You know, 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, you know? Singing hallelujah to her, you know? I heard there was a sacred chord that David played and it pleased the Lord. But, uh...

You don't really care for music, do you?" And she's like, she's shaking her head no. I'm like, 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. Laughter. 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, and she had the line of the night and we wrap up and it's time to go, you know, I'm packing up and backing up and getting on out of there. And her little grandson comes over as I'm leaving and he comes over with this little red sponge ball and he wants to show me some up close magic.

And when you play Obama as an adult man, you also do up close magic, it's just part of the profile. So, we exchange a couple of tricks, and he won't let me leave. And you know, I'm like, and we do it, and it's very touching, you know, and then I realize what's going on, you know, nobody's friends with death, and then I'm thinking, you're like,

well, Abraham Lincoln said, do I not destroy my enemy when I make him my friend? And 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'm packed up, Esther,

when you feel better, I'll save a place for you in my cabinet. Now I've got to get back to the White House. Bye-bye. Applause That was Dion Flynn. Dion is the founder of the improvisersmindset.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 North Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by the Public Radio radio exchange prx.org. Our next story was told by Carol Radswell. 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 piece has best supported this 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 Carol Radziwerf. We love you, Carol! We love you! Okay. 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 sort of 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 kind of nonsense. 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, Stash, 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 Stash, February 23rd, 1963.

And this wasn't just any watch, this watch she wore nearly every day for the rest of her life. And 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.

And it's a simple watch with a white face with a gold and leather band. And the inscription has all but sort of 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. And it was also the year that my husband was diagnosed with a really strange and rare cancer. And watches are like a unique piece of jewelry, right? They sit over your heartbeat, like absorbing your energy,

like your life force, literally marking the passage of time. And time is your enemy when your husband has terminal illness. And five years, almost to the day later, I lay on the hospital bed as he, Anthony, took his last breaths. And I was 34 years old. And 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. And 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, and I made some girlfriends because you realize when you're young and widowed you don't have as much in common with your friends. And one of these girls, her name was Cassandra, she's like the kind of girlfriend you don't know you need until you meet her. And we became instant besties, like real soul sisters. And she had no connection to my past life. So I wasn't constantly remembering or reminded of this life that I had once had.

And 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. And I would visit her frequently on, and on one of these trips, I noticed a portrait of Jackie that Cassandra had painted in like a beginning art class. And it reminded me of the watch, which I hadn't thought of in years. And so I tell her about this watch.

And I think she kind of thinks it's absurd that this historical timepiece is in my top drawer. And she's like a proper girl with a dressing room and a safe, so I told her that I would send it to her for safekeeping. And when I returned to New York, I mailed her the watch. And 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 like magic, you know, those kind of weddings. And then shortly after the wedding, her young and healthy husband was diagnosed with lung cancer, though he never smoked. And what are the chances of that? Like two girlfriends, best friends, going through the same exact singularly kind of unique experience.

So I kind of just brushed it off as coincidence and it wasn't gonna be the same as with Anthony. It couldn't be. And 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. And it was heartbreaking to see my friend go through the same exact experience. And I kind of started thinking about that watch again and getting that same exact experience. And I kind of 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 kind of 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 kind of 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, like one or two. So that's what I was going to do. Like sure, I was going to get the watch back to Cartier.

Okay. And so the next week I'm having dinner with my mother-in-law and she's now well into her 80s and kind of frail. Well, we would often have dinner, just the two of us, at her apartment. And I wanted to get her blessing but also her advice. She was actually surprised I still had the watch and she hadn't thought about it in years and she started reminiscing about that time in her life and her husband and the hike and and 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 and death so I said I didn't want the responsibility of having it anymore and she thought that was reasonable and suggested I call Christy'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 Christy's. And I tell him that I have this watch that once belonged to Jackie Kennedy and would maybe they'd be interested in selling it or auctioning

it. 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 time pieces so he quickly takes it out of the Ziploc bag and puts it on a black velvet tray and is staring at it like it's the Hope Diamond or something. He looks up at me and 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. I thought he was gonna 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, and I explain the story that explains the inscription, now very faded, on the back of the watch. And he can't believe his luck, because unbeknownst to me, Christie'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 in 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. So I just say to list the prominences, Radzi will family. And I casually mentioned, you know, you're going to call Cartier and he said, yes, you know, of course they'll call Cartier in the next day. They had called Cartier in Geneva, the headquarters. So I was like, yes, like the mothership, Geneva. And 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. And as the watch toured around, Cassandra's husband got sicker and sicker. And then he died too. And 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. And Cartier is bidding on it aggressively.

And the last moment, they lose out to a mystery buyer on another phone. So like I don't have this like Indiana Jones moment but like I feel good, like 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. And about a few days later John calls me and 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. This was many years before she at least publicly expressed any interest in anything Kennedy.

And I don't know Kim well, but I've met her a few times and we had some mutual friends. She was kind of in my sphere of existence. I'm like, wow. And I'm processing this in New York. She's in LA. And through the grapevine, she's hearing about some curse. So, she calls Shelly, our mutual friend, one of them, and Shelly calls me. Now Shelly's not the kind of woman who, like, she definitely doesn't believe in curses or any nonsense.

And 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. 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

Shelley, tell him not to touch the watch. But like I'm super paranoid and I don't want to give this curse any more energy. Clearly I've underestimated the power of it. So instead I tell Shelly the facts that three women were in possession of that watch and all three were widowed in their 30s. And I could hear Shelly's silence on the other end of the phone and connecting the dots in the way that I did. And we hung up and a few months later, Christie sends the paperwork and it's all done. And I never hear about the watch again, or so I thought. Fast forward a few years, now it's 2019,

and a friend of mine randomly sends me a photo of Kim from her show and 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 call 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. And 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.

And John, being an elegant man who's obsessed with timepieces, was just like blown away by this. Like 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, like right below us. I'm like, damn. So I tell John everything, like everything in the curse, and 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 and a few months later I read in a magazine that Christie 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. And I would, 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, what, or good luck without bad. What is a blessing if not just the absence of a curse? Boom. applause

That was Carol Radsky. Carol 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 Carol with her husband Anthony or to find a link to the Christie'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. I'm gonna be a good boy. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts,

and presented by PRX. You're listening to the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. 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 is 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 time. 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.

I'm very happy to be in Portland because it reminds me a lot of my hometown, Providence, Rhode Island. And when I was a little girl, 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 lazy 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. And 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 Carly Stremski's Next Step 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.

And 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. And 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. And 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. 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 and together they sang, take me out to the ball game. I haven't felt the same about baseball since.

Now my heartbroken family kind of 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. And my aunt E 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.

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 and none. Hi Kayla, 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 Tamara, 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?" 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. And the very first thing that the baseball commissioner does is to reschedule the All-Star game for like that Tuesday to kind of build up the morale of the disillusioned fan, and I get a call. I'm told to me all of the

other WJAR All-Star winners at the Providence Bonanza bus station at 430 in the morning tell them your 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 and you know and I'm like 17 years old now and my little brother decides that he's gonna wear his little red socks outfit to bed so that he'll be all ready to go when the alarm goes off at 330. So I set the alarm and we go to sleep and the alarm goes off at 430. At 430. 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 to screaming, I'm Murphy, I'm Murphy, and 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. 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 and 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 Fund. And he's standing there and 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 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 an announcement to Norm Sherman that we're here and we'll see the game and my mother just looks at me And she says That's a great idea 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 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, and 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, 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 and 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 who an 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, but 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. And we're sitting there and and my brother is going on and on. He had like this amazing knowledge of baseball, all of these statistics, and he's talking about like the starting pitchers,

and he's wondering like where in the lineup will his favorite player be? Mike Isler 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? And I say really, really loud,

yes, we are, yes, we are, yes are you guys going to the All-Star game? And 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 like an hour, and I have $13 in my pocket and 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. And I think, this is exactly what they tell you never to do.

Never accept an interstate ride from some guy named Pete that you meet at the baggage carousel in Pittsburgh. You know, when I look at my little brother, you know, and I think, like, we could die. And I say, let's do this 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 and 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 her own. You see, he's concerned because he has a daughter who's about my age and he has a son just like Tim. And I look at him and I think, we had a dad just like you. So Pete drives us to this like main box office area and 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

and I start to tell them that we're with this WJR 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 Isler been up to bat yet? And the guy looks at my little brother and then he holds up his hand and he says, I'll be right back. And he disappears, but when he comes back, he comes back with this like more superior box office guy

and I start to tell him the whole story and 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. And Pete looks at me like I'm like this scam girl from Rhode Island, you know? Like it's my thing, it's I get, I just go around

like conniving my way into all of these major league events. So the guy lifts up the counter and ushers us in and 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, and 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 the sky, and 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, like 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. And 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 like this usher, he's like wicked into it. So he starts sending over like hats and souvenir stuff. And the game is wild, you know, like every hit is a run and it's amazing. And 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, you know. I'm like looking for, I don't know, like a sign, you know, like a like a motel room sheet that says Murphy, we're here, you know. And 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. I'm actually sitting there looking for a voice and it's the seventh inning,

so it's the seventh inning stretch. So everybody stands up to sing, "'Take Me Out to the Ball Game' and 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 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 and I look at them and I just think, thank God I said three, when Pete suddenly throws his arm around my shoulders

and together we're 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. And 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. And that's when Pete said, well, I guess you're coming home with me. So we retrace our steps.

And we get our suitcases. And then the other goofy thing is like, there's no post-game traffic for us because we just like kind of like hung onto the coattails of George Bush's motorcade and just like sailed out of the stadium. Wild. And 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 like 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 and written into the top of the wrought iron gate it says Goodyear and then these gates swing open and Pete Goodyear drives us on to his palatial estate. I'm like oh oh my God. So then Pete picks up my brother and carries him into like the mansion. It falls over his shoulder to me to get my mother on the phone. So I go and I get my mother on the phone

and this is, I get her on the phone and this is what my mother says to me. And Pete's listening in on an extension. So he hears this. Oh, Kayla, thank God it's you. I got the Cleveland police on the other line. I was watching the game, and when I didn't see you, I got worried.

I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried.

I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. I got worried. 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. So the next day we wake up and like this maid has made breakfast and 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, and 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, like, including Mike Eesler of the Pittsburgh Pirates and he still has these to this day. And then we finally get on the plane and we fly to Providence and we get off the plane and I see my mother down at the end of the gangway and I just inexplicably burst into tears. And she's completely confused. She's like, what's wrong? I thought you had a good time. Come on now, what happened? And my brother looks at her and says, kind of everything, Ma. 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 hat. 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. And I say, I know, I missed the bus. I'm 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? And I said, I had a good time. Thank you so much. 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. This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Jennifer Hickson, who also hosted and directed the stories in the show along with Joey Zanders. Co-producer is Vicki Merrick, associate producer Emily Couch. The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin-Giness, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Cluchet, Leanne Gulley, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Aldi

Casa. Moss 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, Darrell 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 You