Karen Feld • December 18, 2024

Ken Ludwig didn’t want to be just another Washington lawyer. Instead, he used his law education and early law career to eat and support his passion, playwriting. He is now […]

Karen Feld • May 7, 2015

As a Washington columnist, I covered and got to know Jim Wright and his wife, Betty, during the final 20 years of the 34 he served in Congress culminating with his 1989 resignation in the midst of accusations of ethics violations.  I once had the pleasure of introducing him when he was a guest speaker at the Women’s National Democratic Club in 1993.

Former House Speaker Jim Wright died May 6 in Forth Worth, Texas, at the age of 92.

In his final speech to Congress, he pleaded for an end to the “mindless cannibalism” that had taken over the Congress. I watched from the Press Gallery as his words drew a bi-partisan standing ovation. Yet, ironically, it was his resignation that paved the way for the very partisan Newt Gingrich to ascend to the speakership.

Wright, a Congressional leader without a college degree, was far more literate especially when it came to revealing his skills as a wordsmith than most of his colleagues. Not only was he an eloquent orator but he penned a newspaper column and several books.  After his retirement from Congress, he taught a course at Texas Christian University on the relationship between the Congress, which he knew intimately, and the White House.

It was fortunate for all of us in many ways that young Jim Wright injured his knee in high school. That side-lined him from his life’s ambition to be a football coach, although he would have been a good one. Coincidently, Wright’s football coach was also his world history teacher in Weatherford, Texas. After taking that world history course — to Wright’s surprise — he liked foreign affairs so much that his interests turned to politics. It was during his junior year that he made a decision to serve in Congress.

After flying combat missions in the South Pacific during WWII for which he was awarded the distinguished Flying Cross, Wright was elected to the Texas legislature. In 1955, he was elected to Congress from Fort Worth, Texas. He served in the House leadership for a dozen years, first as Majority Leader (1977 to 1986) and then as Speaker (1987 to 1989). His election as Majority Leader was by a single vote margin, but later more Democrat Members of the House claimed credit for his victory than the total number of votes actually cast for him.

During his political career, Jim Wright carried on the great traditions of Franklin Roosevelt. He kept up with the changing times, never losing sight of the soul of the Democratic party. His efforts to end bloodshed in Nicaragua and El Salvador are well-documented. He was always a bi-partisan foreign policy advocate. He personally knew every Mexican president and was very involved in the North American Free Trade Agreement.

On the personal side, Speaker Wright always got as much pleasure being recognized by a taxi driver in D.C. as a prime minister. He was as thrilled to talk to one as the other. His colleagues knew him for playing a mean harmonica. But he is one politician who valued his privacy and spending time with his one-time staffer and later wife, Betty, who was also a professional tap dancer.  Betty Wright, reflecting on his kinder and gentler side, once told me that the Speaker was very romantic and even used his renowned verbal talents to write poetry to her.

Wright was one of the best story-tellers I have known and was never at a loss for words. He once confided to me that the only time he had stage fright was before going on the Larry King Show. He joked that he was afraid that “Larry wouldn’t have the right questions for my answers.”

I will always remember Jim Wright as a loyal Democrat and friend.  For me, he will always be “Mr. Speaker.”

Karen Feld • March 20, 2014

David Brenner, 78, succumbed to cancer March 15. Until the end, the Philadelphia native used his quick wit and celebrity to voice his political beliefs against gun violence, war and foreign aid to countries that vote against the U.S. in the United Nations. He was a regular at the former Gotham Comedy Club, where he first performed stand-up in the 1970s. Brenner holds the record for the largest number of guest shots on NBC’s “The Tonight Show” and surpasses other performers with the most guest appearances on all TV talk shows.

I last saw Brenner about a year ago in New York City. Although graying a bit, he was as sharp and edgy as ever, both on stage and off. His observational humor included stories about how New York City has changed through the years. Bike lanes and taxis were among his targets. Many of his longtime social and political subjects are equally relevant today–overcrowded prisons, America’s school system, Congress and lobbyists.

He described his humor as talking about the simple things in everyday life. He stayed up-to-date on current events and discovered the ridiculous side of them in his stand-up act. He reminded the audience that he did the last live “Ed Sullivan Show” and reminisced about his career from when Buddy Hackett helped get him into Vegas.

His off-handed style of humor was true David Brenner with engaging stories to which we can all relate. His airline anecdotes brought back memories of the Eastern Shuttle between New York, Washington and Boston. Talking about his days on the road, if he landed a hotel room adjacent to the ice machine, he’d put an “out of order” sign on it so he didn’t have to hear it clang all night. If only the rest of us had thought of that.

Brenner’s other timely targets for his insightful comedy sketches included IHOP, viagra, the recession, Walmart, cable news networks, the pope’s resignation, gun control, eBay and Facebook. He left little untouched.

After the show, he pointed out the irony of how often he appeared on national television as a guest and yet lamented that he couldn’t get his own show at this time.

“There are different people running the business today,” Brenner said. “I don’t appeal to the 18 to 35 year olds. There’s nothing scandalous about me. I could back out in a limo, nude with a tattoo of Lady Gaga and smoking grass with a transvestite, and I’m a super star again.”

We’ll miss David Brenner’s “free speech.”

Karen Feld • August 13, 2012

As I awoke Tuesday morning to his “Good Morning, America” theme playing in the background, I was shocked to learn that my friend, Marvin Hamlisch, the award-winning composer, conductor and versatile entertainer had passed away at the relatively young age of 68.

Marvin had an engaging personality and a quick and delightful sense of humor. Over the years, our friendship developed. He was intellectually curious and politically concerned. He spent time in Washington after he was named the first Principal Pops Conductor for the National Symphony Orchestra. Although his main residence was in New York, he bought a house around the corner from mine in Georgetown. But he still preferred to stay a few blocks away at the Four Seasons Hotel where he had a tuned grand piano moved into his suite so he could write. And presidents from both parties frequently invited Hamlisch to perform his numerous hits at The White House. He usually spontaneously incorporated some special material as well. He liked Washington and once told me that the Lincoln Memorial was his favorite monument. He said he could look at the stone, read the words and “feel the man.”

I first met Marvin through a mutual friend some 35 years ago at the Westbury Music Fair in New York where he was performing. We were introduced in his dressing room before the show. Marvin seemed to take an immediate liking to me. I found him smart, funny and real, but he just wasn’t sexy. In fact, he was outright “nerdy.” After all, we were both in our twenties – he, a few years my senior– and sex appeal was important in those days.

He invited me to join him at his mother’s house for an informal dinner after the show. It was the classic story of the haymisheh Jewish guy taking “a nice Jewish girl” home to meet his mother, in this case, a widowed Austrian immigrant. We sat around her dining table as she served up her special goulash, one of Marvin’s favorites, and bragged about “my son, the entertainer.” She must have thought a “shidduch” was in the works. Marvin laughed as she related embarrassing childhood stories about her son.

Our paths crossed again several years back on a cruise ship in the South Pacific. We were both part of the onboard “enrichment” program: Marvin as a performer; and I, as a lecturer on “political dish.” He spent his days composing, and we met in the private dining room for dinner. His nerdiness became more appealing as he matured, and his accomplishments stacked up.

Hamlisch was open to new ideas and beliefs, always curious, always questioning. He believed in the healing arts. He consulted a psychic, Dezia, at the suggestion of his wife Terre. One of Dezia’s best known clients was Yoko Ono, and she is said to have predicted John Lennon’s death. Hamlisch also visited the Dalai Lama. Whatever he believed, it seemed to work for him. Yet, no matter how brilliant he was musically and otherwise, even the best spiritual healers and teachers could not save him from the toll that a recent kidney transplant took on his body.

He barely stopped working long enough to recover, keeping a hectic pace conducting top orchestras, performing at major venues, and creating, writing, composing. Although he accomplished more in those short 68 years, than most in a lifetime, his work wasn’t finished. HBO’s Liberace film is still in the works. The legacy he left is vast.

Four months ago, he quietly accepted a kidney from a close friend. At his age, he would not have had such good fortune waiting on an organ donor list. He was too young to die, but too old to move up the list for an anonymous donor kidney. Though the surgery was deemed successful, just months later his body rejected the kidney and he fell into a fatal coma. Marvin did not want to use his well-nurtured and extensive connections to leap frog the organ-waiting list. Had this very private celebrity gone public with his transplant surgery, speculation as to how he got the kidney when there is a waiting list of younger individuals, would likely have taken on a life of its own via the show biz grapevine. And he wasn’t one to complain or seek sympathy.

Despite his many awards — Oscars, Grammys, Emmys, Golden Globes, a Tony and even a Pulitzer Prize– Hamlisch told me one of his most cherished possessions was the duck that came down during the TV show, “You Bet Your Life,” a gift from Groucho Marx. Marvin had been a pianist for Groucho. And producer Joe Papp gave him a gift he always treasured as well — advice after they opened on Broadway with “A Chorus Line.” It was this encouragement, Hamlisch confided, that changed his life. “Be true to yourself and write the music you feel is right for the show, even if you’re criticized for it.” He lived up to that.

Hamlisch was an authentic man, he didn’t want his life tabloidized even though his success was larger than life. He was what my grandmother called “a haymisheh guy.”

Alevha-sholem.