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gan _to cry at both theaters as sne introduced her buddy, *This seaBnment is not a happy one for me. Wis.desiion ‘4s not one we like, because we like him. He's worked for tis for $0 years. He is after all the greatest entertainer of the century," she said. _— Sinatra came on and waving a finger before his face, cautioned "Don't you cry." The warning-was prophetic. By the time he finished singing, there was hardly a dry eye in the house. He began with "All ar Nothing at All" (“Here's the way it started"), coritinued with "Cole Porter's shin- ing hour and Nelson Riddle's wonderful arrangement" of *l've Got You Under My Skin" in Sinatra's own inimita- ble delivery. Sinatra's eyes teared during "I'l Never Smile Again,” and so did manyv—those of the men beside me—my husband and his best friend, te name two ob- servers. Frank hardly suppressed a few tears during "Nancy," te song which was written after the birth of his oldest daughter. ]t became as synonymous with him for sever- al generations as his microphone-skinniness, His power- ful, self-assured rendition of "My Way" ("I Did It My Way") roused the-audience to a second standing ovation (he got the first when he entered). He exited, a giant un- der 6 feet in black patent leather boots, after miming the drunk in a barroom singing “Angel Eyes." Despite a lasting slanding ovation and several curtain calls, Frank left, determined not to do an encore, The ci.cwtrefwsed to sit down or stop applauding. At the Ahmanson, his pal Sammy Davis leaped onto tHE prosce- nip Tm ran backstage and led Sinatra hack out faking.an- ger. iney embraced, Sinatra again thanked the crowd. Again he blew his audience one of those kisses that Makes every lady instinctively move for her compact. And he was gone. - Gone, but never forgotten—the Italian-American kid from Hoboken who'd fought his way to the very top— top singer, top movie star (an Oscar for "From Here to Eternity"), top entertainer, top womanizer and at times top anonymous philanthropist (the Jean Hersholt Hu-* manitarian Award), top legend and top champion of the “underprivileged. Sinatra is perhaps the only really great idol of our day whom the public accepts, nay, loves, despite the fact that it cannot identify with him. He's talented, he's rich, , he's attractive to women, he lives on a super-scale. His brawls are bigger, his romances are better. than most. He owns a jet, a heliport, several houses. He lives a su- per-life, the sort that normally alienates a public which prefers the Lennons or the Lucys who enter. their par- lors via television. Anything Sinatra does is néws, espe- reially “for the fan magazines, which normally, stick to th r-put the super-people (take the Kens. .dys) into a tragic context. .. .. , ee Bet ener = Finale of the First Act) wu, ‘The finale of the first act, as superbly staged by:Vin- -cente-Minelli, was Pearl Bailey and an all-male chorus in the "Hello, Dolly!" number. Imagine Jack Lemmon, Sammy Davis, Don Rickles, Joe Namath, Greg Morris, Rock Hudson and David Niven doing a Rockette kick. Cary Grant, who's still one of the world's handsomest men ("my name is Archie Leach") introduced Princess Grace of Monaco, who's still one of the world's most beautiful women. The princess got a standing ovation: “Despite the thousand of miles, Hollywood has never been far from my heart." , And David Frost introduced Barbra Streisand, who stood out, every inch the professional, knowing just what she's about with a lyric, on songs like "Don't Rain on My Parade" and "Happy Days Are Here Again." Miss Streisand held her numbers down to five with emi- nent good taste—to leave the main event of the evening —TIrrank Sinatra—amenpumbherna aA OAL Pa—— one nou mi perca, And 80 We have come full circle. The night ME f0,000. eyes, and every one was on Frank Sinatra.