My Frisson with Raquel Welch

Rest in Peace, Raquel: I had the frisson of sharing an escalator with Ms. Welch in 1994. We were part of a press of theater-goers leaving a performance of “Damned Yankees” on Broadway. I’d like to say that of course I knew I was enveloped in the aura of a very beautiful woman. What I saw out of the corner of my eye—at least I still had some peripheral vision – was a splash of stunning russet hair. I tried to stay cool so I wouldn’t stumble as we stepped off the escalator’s collapsing tread. She vanished briskly into the crowd. The friends who had taken me to the theater caught up with me and asked, “Do you know who that was?” No, not really. “Happens all the time in New York. Close encounters with celebrity in the most mundane places.” Mundane? I never stood next to a celebrity before, unless you count Bonnie Lou from the Midwestern Hayride TV show when I was a little kid. Raquel Welch, really? I’m grateful I didn’t stumble. My inner 14-year-old still doesn’t quite believe it.

The tributes to her all begin with the famous fur bikini poster from “One Million Years B.C.” Today’s obit in the New York Times gives Raquel the final word: “Style…is being yourself, on purpose.”