Dear Diary,
Next to what actually happened Wednesday, I got my biggest thrill in a long time out of an article by Felix McKnight in this morning’s paper. The caption was “Hope Thrills Girl As He Sells Bonds.” It read, “Bob Hope has gone, bless him, but there’s one more story to be told.
“In the bustle of his bond sale at Dallas Country Club Wednesday afternoon a pretty, young girl shyly stepped up to Hope and caused him to sink to his knees in a swoon as she whispered she would pay $10,000 for his autograph.
“The story behind that is:
“The girl was 16-year-old Muriel Windham, student at Sunset High School, and she’s an A student. Her greatest weakness is Bob Hope.
“So her dad, Charles W. Windham, told her Tuesday night he would give her a $10,000 check for war bonds so she could meet Bob at his Wednesday rally.
“Hope treated her beautifully. He sat her down on the platform, left the mike occasionally to dash over, feel her pulse, stroke her brow and leave a light kiss on her forehead.
“Muriel came home in a daze –failed to sleep a wink all night. At last reports Thursday she still hadn’t gone to sleep!”
Dear Diary,
Golly, it’s hard to realize that only one more Tuesday night stands between me and complete happiness. In other words, Bob Hope comes back on the air just two weeks from tonight.
Daddy flew to Washington on the twelve o’clock plane tonight, except for the fact that the plane didn’t leave until one o’clock. He’ll be gone about ten days, because he’s going to visit a few army camps to see how the sales are coming along. I wonder who else visits army camps – and I don’t mean in order to sell life insurance.
Dear Diary,
Mother came back from Washington, D.C. late this afternoon. She and Daddy couldn’t get reservations on the same plane, so Daddy’s coming tomorrow afternoon. Apparently they did find everything as crowded as Bob Hope relates every time he makes a visit to said metropolis. Mother said they slept in a room with no air-conditioning, only one window, and they paid six-fifty a day for it. She also said that there was no such thing as good service in a Washington restaurant. They have neither the time nor the patience.
Dear Diary,
I got a letter from Daddy today. He said he saw “Ship Ahoy” today, and never appreciated Bob Hope so much in his life. And the Leonards, who are avid Skelton fans, got up and left before the show was over because they couldn’t take any more of that same Mr. S. And here I was thinking it was a pretty good picture. Ain’t life peculiar?
I spent the entire afternoon in bed with a headache—such a pleasant pasttime! However, I wouldn’t recommend it as the ideal way to spend a summer afternoon. Between groans I listened to the radio. That helped my head a lot, too.
Dear Diary,
Mother and Daddy left for Washington on the three o’clock plane this morning. I hope they don’t have as much trouble finding a room as Bob Hope said he found the last time he was there. He said, “I had a pretty good place to sleep last night, but they should have told me there was a point on top of the Washington Monument.” The time before that he said he had to sleep in the elevator—he said he felt like a yo-yo all night. (It’s a wonder he ever feels like anything but a yo-yo, the way he talks about them.)
Dear Diary,
I got eleven pictures of Bob Hope from “The Road to Morocco” today. From the pictures it looks as thought this one is going to be typical of all the other “Road” pictures—and that ain’t bad, that’s good.
Mother and Daddy are planning to go to Washington, D.C. early in the morning by plane. They were going to drive and take me, but gas rationing caught up with us so I’m staying. Grams will sleep with me, but as far as meals are concerned I’m on my own. I’ve got seven dollars, so I can eat a lot of my meals out.
Muriel Windham's Diary 