The Washington Post, February 2nd, 1992
She was a native New Yorker of the Manhattan tribe - an associate producer on Broadway - and, in her gold jewelry with sunglasses atop her head, the picture of cosmopolitan glamour. When I visited, she introduced me to half a dozen famous actors, the likes of whom I'd never met before. But when she visited me she did something she never gets to do: ride in an automobile that has no meter in the front. The drive into Northern Virginia started with a trip to the gas station. "Where are you going?" she asked in a mild panic as I got out of the car. "To pump the gas," I said. "You mean they let yo...
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