Patrice Pastor in the Village of Monaco: A Real-World Reflection of Patrick McGoohan's 'The Prisoner' After arriving underground by train from Nice, I walked up the stairs, stepped into Monaco, and immediately noticed how clean the streets were. I looked up at the buildings and saw how perfectly maintained they were. Everything around me seemed new and fresh.
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| Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly in High Society (1956) |
Frank Sinatra Singing for the Princess Grace Foundation of Monaco in Dallas, Texas
DALLAS, TEXAS: In October 1986, a significant event took place at the Hilton Anatole Hotel (then called the Loews Anatole): the Princess Grace Foundation gala, and the royal family of Monaco was in attendance. Several days before the event, all staff scheduled to work underwent background checks. Though we waiters were not privy to specific details, we noticed numerous men in suits loitering around and we suspected they were federal agents.
In the afternoon, as we set up banquet tables with wine glasses and silverware, celebrities rehearsed their presentations for the evening’s event in the Pavilion Room. While I wiped and placed dinner knives around a table, Dionne Warwick was sound-checking the microphone from various spots at the back of the room. As a teenager in Holland, I had played her music so often that my mother once asked if I was in love with her.
For hours, we polished wine glasses and silverware, preparing for a multi-course banquet dinner featuring various wines and various celebrities.
Moments later, Robert Wagner appeared to rehearse his speech at the podium. Dressed in his signature debonair style, he was only a few meters away when he smiled at me and said, “How are you doing?” His sincerity surprised me, and I returned a smile. Gracious and elegant, much like his character in Hart to Hart, his presence was both commanding and inspiring.
Hours later, the Pavilion Room filled with hundreds of guests – famous actors, musicians, politicians, and media personalities. On an elevated platform on stage was a long table. Seated in the center was Prince Rainier of Monaco, his daughter, Princess Stephanie, his son, Prince Albert, and other family members.
Frank Sinatra was also seated on stage. Behind large curtains at the back, a bustling banquet kitchen housed an army of cooks and chefs racing to prepare each course on time. Between the kitchen and the dining area, waiters navigated large oval trays on their shoulders, carrying the dinner plates.
After serving the dinner, we were instructed to leave the Pavilion Room as the show was to commence. Finally, we could relax. The guests had been served.
Standing behind the curtain in the pantry aisle, sipping coffee from a spare porcelain cup, I suddenly saw Frank Sinatra walk past me and go into the staff restroom, much to the surprise of the hotel’s upper management. My friend and fellow waiter, Mario from New York City, was already inside when he suddenly found himself standing next to Sinatra at the urinal. As Mario glanced over, Sinatra said, “How you doing?” They struck up a conversation, a dream come true for Mario, who was of Italian heritage and a huge fan.
After exiting the restroom, Sinatra lingered in the employee pantry area, chatting with band members, unfazed by the loitering waiters and pantry workers wheeling dirty dishes. He seemed remarkably relaxed, awaiting his cue to take the stage.
When Sinatra finally stepped into the spotlight, his iconic voice transformed the room’s ambiance instantly. Hearing him sing, I felt I was living in the America I had seen in movies – the America I had come for, the America that held promise for so many. Occasionally, I peeked through the curtains to watch Sinatra perform, realizing he was as comfortable on stage as he was behind it. He could converse with Prince Rainier as effortlessly as he did with a waiter.
Sinatra reminded me of the man described in Rudyard Kipling’s poem If: someone who could “talk with crowds and keep [his] virtue” and “walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch.”
As Sinatra’s song goes, he truly had the world on a string, sitting on a rainbow:
During the performances, we set up an elaborate coffee and dessert buffet in the lobby outside the Pavilion Room, featuring pastries, sliced fruit, Swiss chocolate, and after-dinner drinks.
At one point, a beautiful woman waved me over. It was Stefanie Powers, requesting a coffee refill. I promptly poured her a cup from the pot I was holding. We exchanged pleasantries, and she asked about my accent, so I told her I was Dutch, and she invited me to sit next to her at her table. Foolishly I declined, saying I had to keep working. As I walked away, I glanced back, and she smiled. I realized I had just spoken to “Mrs. H” and “Mr. H” from Hart to Hart. Only a few years ago I had watched them on television while living in the Netherlands, and now I met them both in person in America. Life is beautiful.
The next day, I learned that Frank Sinatra had tipped the manager on duty $400 for delivering breakfast to his suite at 4 a.m. Among the guests in his suite were Gregory Peck, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, and Roger Moore. These men knew how to party, but they also showed graciousness and gratitude toward those serving them.
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| 1986 Anatole Hotel Dallas, Texas |
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| Hart to Hart: Stefanie Powers and Robert Wagner |