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I had to pinch myself—we were speaking to the Four Tunes as if we had known them for years! They asked us a dozen questions, and I was petrified that their demeanor might change when they discovered that we were four inexperienced, unsophisticated bumpkins. Now, either they were extraordinary actors, or they actually were interested and not disappointed. Daniel seemed impressed that four girls with little experience had formed a band and had “progressed as far as you have.”

They were going their separate ways the next day. Daniel had business. Frankie and Stephen were going fishing. Jay was rushing home for a couple of days. They were beginning a tour in just a week, and that would be preceded by an appearance on Stagelight to promote the tour.

They had rented a home just out of the city. All four of them lived there—can you imagine that? They had had to take some security measures after “the incident,” as Frankie put it. They did not offer more details, and we dared not pry.

How I wished it would never end! But it did. The guys dropped us off at the hotel...and they drove off into the night.

We took the elevator to our ninth-floor room...or did we float up?

I slept very little, but I dreamed plenty! We stayed up talking until the wee hours. Somewhere in the night the others dozed off—I suppose. But my mind was racing, racing.

What would become of all this? Was this the highest the Dovettes would ever fly? I had met Daniel Sparrow and the other Tunes, and I should be more than satisfied, but I wasn’t. I was all-the-hungrier to be a singer, and I wanted the Dovettes to make records. I mean—was that such an outlandish dream? There were many groups recording. OK, we were an all-female band, but someone had to break that ground, didn’t they? Why couldn’t it be us? Daniel thought we were good, and Daniel was a somebody in this business!

I tried to imagine our being nearly as successful as the Tunes, but that was too ludicrous even for me! I tried to imagine our being at the Wonderland Lounge for the next 10 years, but that was embarrassing. Maybe somewhere in the middle was our future. I drifted off to sleep just before dawn, awaking in a miserable mood because Brenda shook me just as Daniel was taking my hand.

I was melancholy during the long bus trip. When I got home, Mom wanted to hear about everything. I gave her the experience in detail, but even she noticed the note of sadness underlying much of it.

“Was it not what you thought it would be?”

“Oh, no, Mom, it was the greatest thing in the world,” I replied without the expected enthusiasm. “But is this it? Am I foolish to want more?”

“No, dear,” she smiled, sliding closer, putting her arm around me. “You’re not foolish at all. Who knows? You may get that singing career you want so badly. It may or may not be with the girls. It may be in another direction.”

She paused.

“Dina, as much as I want you to go to college, the fact of the matter is that I’m not sure we can afford it. Go after this for a while...just to see where it leads. You’re young, and the possibilities are endless for someone as talented, as determined, and as pretty as you.”

Pretty? Where did that come from?

I don’t remember in my whole life ever being described as “pretty.” I fell into that abysmal “cute” category maybe, but certainly not “pretty.” I will admit that I was more pleased with the way I looked now than with the way I looked in high school, but that really is not saying much My auburn hair had gone through more arrangements than the florist’s display window! On written forms, I put “blue” for eyes, but that was more taste than fact. The fact was that my eyes had a chameleon quality that made them seem to blend in with their surroundings. There’s the best phrase to describe me—the “blend-in girl.”


You couldn’t call me fat. (Well, you could, but you would end up like Patty McCarver—flat on your back with a shiner!) Actually, I was not all that displeased with my figure, but I didn’t turn the guys’ heads. I never wore a bathing suit. I simply was no beauty, and I don’t know that I wanted to be.

My nose was OK. (How about that? I had an OK nose!) My lips were full—and gave me this pouty look that didn’t always make people smile when they first met me. You had to get to know me before you would smile.

No, Mom, I love you, but I’m not pretty.

I had been gone six days, but already I missed my own bed and my own room. Daniel’s picture met me as I dropped my bags. I gazed helplessly at the four walls that had been my cocoon for so many years.

After a good cry about God-knows-what, I slept like a baby.