Most of you know that in the years at the Sands, Sinatra and I got to know each other pretty well, at least on a working basis. Frank was always teaching this young man about History and politics and such. I was in my 20’s at the time and sure didn’t listen as much as I should. In fact Frank and I would get into many disagreements. He wanted me to pay more attention to music and how important it was. I used to tell him I was here to protect the casino and not interested in the stuff those entertainers were doing. So many times he kidded me about not having any of his records. I would tell him I ain’t going to listen to him all night here and then go home and have to listen to him again. His buddies would rib him about me. They would ask him at the 21 table in front of others if I had any Sinatra records. My answer would always be “I ain’t buying his records, Darin maybe but Frank's, never, never.” Frank and I would laugh about it.

But it wasn’t always laughs.

I told this story in Atlantic City at the FrankFest 99 event. Vinnie Falcone, Frank’s great conductor was also there and gave a very interesting talk. I followed and told some stories and this is one of them.

It’s around 67, probably early 67 and Sinatra is in house for a engagement. Late one night, a weeknight, about 1am in the morning Frank comes to the 21 pit to play and as usual he comes over to me.

He shows two fingers and so I tell the dealer to give him $200. And I start talking to him.

“So how you doing?” No answer. “How did the show go tonight.” He yells back “What the fuck are you doing?”

I answer “I’m trying to talk to you.” He yells “Who the fuck wants to talk to you — What the hell are you doing — When are you going to pay attention to what you doing — You fucking never learn.”

I get get hot and yell back, “Fuck you too.”

He’s yelling “Eddie you dumb son of a bitch.” I won’t give in at all and hold my ground. Were now yelling at each other.

There’s not a lot of people in the casino and it’s just between him and me. The other Floormen won’t step into this, so we keep yelling at each other.

Bucky Harris, who is in charge of the casino when Carl Cohen is not there, comes down from the Crap pit and is trying to calm us both down.

He steps in front of me, trying to block my sight of Frank and wants me to leave the pit for a while. I won’t. Frank is now yelling “Get him out of here. I want him out.” I won’t budge.

Bucky, a really nice guy is trying to calm me down and does get a bit tough. “Eddie, this could cost you your job.” I still don’t budge. He and I both know that without permission from certain people in New York, he couldn’t fire me if he wanted to.

Frank see’s I won’t leave and starts yelling again. “Eddie, you dumb fucker, you never learn.” I tell him “Fuck you.”

Bucky says “I don’t want to get in the middle of you two guys. Something is going on here. Please let it go.” I back away and go to the lobby and sit in one of the couches. I sit awhile and then go to my car and drive home.

Carl calls me the next day and wants to know what happened. “I hear you two got into it last night. What is it with you two? You guys are friends, what the hell are you doing?" I tell him I don’t know." He says “Eddie, you missed something, didn't you?”

Yes, Carl is right. I missed something. I did.

So let me explain what is behind all this. You see from start of working with Sinatra, you realize that he is very particular who he deals with. He loves to work with talented and sharp people and he knew that I knew him well and knew what to do. As you deal with Sinatra you get to know his ways. You get to read him well. He demands total devotion to the work at hand and has no patience with incompetence of any kind. Talk to Vinnie or anyone who had dealt with him and I feel that they would say the same.

Frank knows that when he walk up to the table and puts two fingers out, I know he just wants to kill some time and will tell the dealer to give him $200 in $5 chips. Or I know he is in a serious mood and wants to really play and I give him $2,000. Or he is with some girl and wants her to have something to do so I give her the $200. Or he wants her to stay at the table and will be back later and says “take care of her.” I will give her chips to play with as long as needed. Or he will walk up with a guy and and Frank will motion with five fingers and say “Don’t let him get in trouble.” and walk away. I will give the guy $500 and keep and eye on him and when the 5 is gone, I know that is all he is to get.

Frank expects me to read the situation properly and handle it. I usually do and I’m very good at it.

But that night I really screwed up. I just wasn’t on top of it and Frank got hot. And I got hot, and we both went at each other. It happens.

So now I’m at home and trying to decide what to do. A few days later a car drives up to my house and a guy drops off a big box. I open it up and in it I find a bunch of records. It is all the records Sinatra has recorded at Reprise.

A note is in the box:
    “If your going to sit around and do nothing, then maybe you can listen to these.”

Toward the bottom of the page is written:
    “Get back to work, kid.”

I go back to work the next day. I don’t run into Frank that night. On the second night, I see him walking toward the casino from the lobby. He has a few people with him and he passes me and smiles. That brings a smile to me and I nod back.

Later that year, one of our cocktail waitresses is telling me about how sick her Aunt is. She is being put in a Hospice that just opened here. I go with her the next afternoon to visit her Aunt. It’s a place where people are all sitting or laying around getting ready to die. Very hard to look. I stay there a while because I really like this girl, Norma, Norma Boyles. We visit the people and I talk with the nurses. They are playing a Frank Sinatra record. It is so scratched up and sounds so terrible, but all the people in the beds love it. I mention this to the nurse. she says that it the only one they have, it belongs to one of the people and says “And the sad thing is that the record will last longer than the lady. It’s all they have at this point.”

It shocked me to see dying people. I drove home with Norma and said we should do something. The next day I took all the records that Frank gave me and brought them to the Hospice. The nurses were delighted because so many wanted to hear them. And no, the lady that owned the scratchy record did not get to hear the new ones, she died during the night.

I left the box of records there. It was too tough a place to hang around.

Frank has left the Sands around September 67. I drop by at Caesars, a few years later, to see him and go visit him backstage. He is surrounded by people and some of the usual guys. He sees me and we talk a bit. We talk about some of the things that happened at the Sands.

And he asks, “You like those records?” I respond, “Yes.”

Frank smiles and says: “Good boy, you still have them?” Again I say “Yes.”

I lied. I just couldn’t explain it then. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to get mad at me. I didn’t want a fight. We talked a bit and he was surrounded by people so I left.

So, in flying to Atlantic City to speak at the event, I thought all about this and whether I should talk about it.

I had lied to him. I didn’t like that. Frank has always impressed on me that honesty was so important. So important. I thought of a lot of things he has told me and (especially since his death) I realize how many good things he has stood up for.

I also realized on the plane that I would tell the story. Because I was wrong about something. I had seriously misjudged something. I had lied to Frank because I thought he would get mad and angry at me.

I should of realized that day, backstage talking to him, that I could have told him the truth. I could of told him what I did with the records.

He would not of yelled at me — he would of been proud of me.

I’m sure that the people that were at the Atlantic City event that understand and appreciate Mr. Sinatra will agree with me.

I hope so.