January 2022

Eliezer Sobel's latest book will be out in January, 2022: "DARK LIGHT OF THE SOUL/ENCOUNTERS WITH GABRIELLE ROTH."

It is a collection of 150 stories from people all over the world (including The Bluegrass Gypsy) about their unforgettable meetings with the late Gabrielle Roth, internationally known creator of the 5Rhythms™ conscious movement practice. She touched thousands of people’s lives through random acts of outrageous demands for genuine authenticity.

For more information about how to purchase DARK LIGHT OF THE SOUL/ENCOUNTERS WITH GABRIELLE ROTH please click here.

* * * * *

Rock, global pandemics, palm reading and the Whitneys' Derby parties
Shelby County Historical Society Magazine History’s Footsteps

By Rebecca Henderson

At the Whitney’s annual Derby Eve Party, part of Kentucky history for two decades, I was a palm reader from 1979 to the early 2000s, bringing me face-to-face and hand-in-hand with many of the world’s most famous men and women. One of whom was Rock Hudson of American Movie star box office fame from the late 40's and into the 80s. He was Known to many as one of the handsomest men to grace the silver screen.

I am Rebecca Henderson, born in Lexington, Kentucky, sometimes known as the Bluegrass Gypsy.

That’s Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney, known to family and friends as Sonny and Marylou. Their Derby Eve Party was a prize invitation for elite horse people from around the globe, as well as royalty, millionaires, celebrities, politicians, and sports stars from near and far. Maple Hill, the party site on the Whitney Stables Farm outside of Lexington, was reimagined and restored by Marylou as their showcase historic "Tara" in Kentucky, a home for their blended family and Derby party perfection.

Cornelius Whitney’s mother was a Vanderbilt, Gertrude; famous sculptor, philanthropist and creator of art museums. Sonny’s father, Harry Payne Whitney, was heir to a fortune inherited from his father C.W. Whitney (US Secretary of the Navy from 1885-1889) and Harry also inherited a passion for horses, breeding champions. Sonny’s father, Harry Payne, developed Whitney Stables. He is remembered for vast family wealth and connections, but also throughout the thoroughbred business as the owner of the first filly (Regret) to win a Kentucky Derby in 1915, opening the race to many more horses and changing the trajectory of the sport throughout the world.

Sonny carried on the Whitney Stables racing business with intuitive aplomb. He had, he told me over the years as I read his palm, flown with Lindbergh, started Pan American Airlines and Marineland, as well as served in the air force through two World wars. He held the positions of Secretary of Commerce and Secretary of the Air Force under President Truman, and his movie company, C.V. Whitney Productions Inc., produced Gone with the Wind as well as many other classic films including one of Sonny’s favorites, The Missouri Traveler. He loved the Kentucky State Parks, conservation of wild lands and life.

In 1958, Sonny met and married his fourth wife, Marylou, younger than he by 20 years, and she cooked, unlike any of his previous wives. She was from Kansas City, Missouri, a socialite, a television personality with an interview and cooking show, and was an actress in New York. She became Sonny’s leading lady for the rest of his life, as well as in Hollywood movies. The Whitneys lived in Saratoga, New York during the Northeast racing season, revived the town, and built the Museum of Dance. Marylou became known as the queen of the Kentucky and Saratoga racing seasons. Her parties were featured on “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” with Robin Leach (a guest whose crew filmed my prognostications with Marylou, Sonny, and the prominent horse-racing Hancocks in 1989, the night before Sunday Silence won the Derby).

C.V. Whitney Stables continued for three generations until Sonny retired. After his death in 1992, Marylou created Marylou Whitney Stables, and honored the Whitney winning, breeding, racing tradition along with her husband, John Hendrickson. She, like Regret, that first filly in the Kentucky Derby, was the first woman in the Whitney family horse business. She and her friend Penny Chernery, who brought Secretariat to Triple Crown glory, were both honored as “Pillars of the Turf” in racing history.

The Whitneys’ party at Maple Hill was, without exception, the hottest invitation in the country for the Friday night before the first Saturday in May.

Let’s go now to Derby Eve May 3, 1985. The 80s were known for Reaganomics, (MAD) Mutually Assured Destruction from nuclear weapons, the Cold War heating up with the Soviet Union, and the second Star Wars film, The Empire Strikes Back. Ronald Reagan, himself a former Hollywood star now shining in politics has been elected President 1981 thru 1989. He helped to bring down the Berlin Wall, not build a wall. The AIDS/HIV virus, a global pandemic that would claim at least 13 million, was a silent killer. Unaddressed in the U.S. as a public health crisis, this pandemic was joked about as a gay man's disease. AIDS/HIV was killing not only gay men but heterosexual men, women, and children, and poisoning blood bank supplies.

It was on that spring evening the night before the 111th running of the Derby that my palm reading colleague, local theatre owner Gene Williams, and I drove out North Bryan Station Road in his 1953 Chevy, which baseball great Stan Musial (he also read palms) yearly offered to purchase. Arriving at the gate and leaving the car with the valet, Gene and I headed into the house, where we found the family and staff busy with last minute touches in stunning elegance. The party was held around the Olympic-sized indoor pool with a bridge arching across the center holding tables with white tablecloths fully set for guests to dine and life-sized swans made of white flowers floating on either side of this moveable span. The theme was “Rhapsody in Blue”. A parquet dance floor magically extended over the tennis court to provide a suitable place for Lester Lanin and his internationally known society orchestra band to play, and audio equipment capable of bringing Lester throughout the home and gardens. The suited waiters were lined up for their instructions, and the bars and buffets were ready for service.

I was dressed in blue velvet and an antique Bedouin carnelian necklace (borrowed finery from Actors Theatre of Louisville actress Adale O’Brien). My long blue chiffon shawl was borrowed from Jenny Cooke Caperton Mahoney, who, for the record, had the distinction of having once ridden an ostrich down Fifth Avenue in New York in a Victorian riding habit.

I had made, from felt an Egyptian-style gold headband, inspired from 1978 when I was a guide to the mysteries of King Tut at the Met in NYC while studying palm reading with Singh Modi from Kashmir, India. Gene’s gypsy costume that year was an ascot and a teal satin turban, perfect for holding hands across waves of bluegrass.

Gene and I each had a booth at the party set with two chairs at a parfait table decorated with white tablecloth, blue ribbons, and netting, each featuring a crystal ball-like lighting fixture, perfect for reading palms. I also had a crystal doorknob in my gypsy bag in case I needed one.

Mrs. Whitney spotted us and before calling “Sonny, have your palm read by Rebecca before the guests get here,” as she did every year. But this year she did something different. She took me aside with concern. “Rebecca, find out what’s troubling Rock,” she said. Rock Hudson would arrive later as one of the Whitney's Hollywood guests. Rock often visited Kentucky having discovered its beauty with close friend actress Elizabeth Taylor during her filming of the movie Raintree County (Raintree County had its world premiere at the Brown Theatre in Louisville, Kentucky on October 2, 1957.

Rock Hudson had waved at crowds in the pre-Derby festivities in Louisville the preceding week in the Pegasus Parade. He rode in an open Cadillac convertible and had suffered from the warm Kentucky spring sun. In fact, when Louisville TV meteorologist-reporter John Belski inquired as to how he was holding up, Hudson said, “I’m dying.” Belski took him to mean he was suffering the heat, and said so on the nightly news.

Marylou cheered us on to dazzle and be dazzling among the famously dazzling -- including Esther Williams, Ginger Rogers, Walter Cronkite, Jimmy Dean, Diane Sawyer, Henry Kissinger, Bruce Davidson, Alan Greenspan, Gregory and Veronique Peck, the Princess Chandon and more. Before she took her place in the reception line, Marylou said, “With imagination and fun anything can happen.”

Hudson was still quite a handsome man as the current star of the Dynasty television series. He looked very thin as I saw him enter the party from his chauffeur-driven Bentley with Liz Dahl, press secretary for Phyllis George Brown, on his arm. Phyllis, former First Lady of Kentucky, Miss America, and one of the first women to hold an on-air position in televised sports, would arrive soon, as she did each year with her husband, Governor John Y. Brown.

Liz Dahl would return to "River City" in the Bently with Rock after the party and palm reading. Years later I ran into her at a gathering. She immediately said to me, "Rebecca I haven't seen you since the night you read Rock Hudson's palm at the Whitney party! Whatever you said had an emotional effect on him. He kept grilling me all the way back to Louisville asking me what I knew about you and had I told you anything about him. I said that I had only known you as the Whitney palm reader and not in any other context. Actually it is so interesting to see you here not in a costume reading palms.

Back to the party in 1985

I had settled into my booth, reading the hands of the guests who were invited by Marylou to "Have your palms read by Rebecca," then with a twinkle in her eye, "I made her famous!" she said.

The guests formed a line, fine beverages in hand. Gene and I worked quickly while being generous with the readings. I was having trouble speaking over the seamless music of the renowned Lanin orchestra, coming from a speaker mounted behind my head, with no way to turn it down.

Mrs. Whitney, with Rock on her arm, broke to the front of the line. Well, it was her party. “Read his palm,'' she said, staring straight into my eyes as if to remind me to lift his spirits. Rock Hudson looked dour, but with the touch of her hand on his shoulder, a cigarette and a glass of bourbon in his hands, he was seated. He looked right through me. I was startled at his amazing good looks and presence. With that Marylou turned and the line of partygoers melted away.

“Hello, I’m Rebecca,” I offered, as his long arm extended past my ear like a sword and his hand ripped out the wire from the speaker, ending yet another iteration of “Tie a Yellow Ribbon ‘Round the Old Oak Tree.” I thought to myself, thank you, Mr. Hudson! Sitting back in his chair, he warned me, “I’m not married, and I don’t have any children, so you can forget all that crap.” I knew nothing of Rock Hudson’s life. “I am reading palms. May I hold your hand?” He put his right hand into my left and waited.

I always begin reading a palm silently. I noticed under the surface of his papillary ridges something not healthy -- it looked like swimming snakes. I did not know anything about Rock Hudson’s personal life. I was next drawn to two lines, forming a double heart line, just below the base of his long fingers. These lines are usually found in sensitive people, but Rock’s were unusually large and long. I looked into his eyes and said, “You have been living a double life all your life.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked through a clenched jaw. “I mean it’s a good thing you became an actor,” I said. “Your hand shows that you have so much unexpressed water, the element of emotion, that you can drown in your own sorrow and unexpressed anger if not channeled outwardly. You found just the right form in theatre, an arena the Greeks invented for warriors to feel what could not be said. The buried emotion moving through a character’s story and the actor’s body is a powerful way to have your audiences identify with you.” His hand relaxed. “How old are you?” I asked.

“Fifty-nine,” he said. “Old.”

“That’s only a drop in the bucket of time to a gypsy”, I say while looking under the fourth finger to find age 59. Fascinated, I see something I’ve only read about in palm reading books. "This is the most important year of your life! Your heart will open bigger than ever before.” He smirked at me, “It can’t open any bigger. I’ve already had quadruple by-pass surgery.”

“Oh yes it can! I do not know what is going to happen. The meaning of this marking indicates that this year you will have the opportunity to share something very personal, for an altruistic purpose. Something you would ordinarily reveal only to your family. However you make the world your family. I see a sun marking under your fourth finger that shows that families will be blessed by what you share, if you choose to share it. Your open heart line at age 59 indicates generosity so great, in what your life shares this year that it can change everything for many, privately and publicly, but it is up to you to choose.”

His hand lay open in mine. I looked up. I saw a tear form in his eye, held my gaze with him and watched as it rolled down his cheek. “Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice with emotion and gently folded his hand around mine. He took a drink of bourbon, stood and with a nod turned and moved into the party. I took a moment to gather myself before proceeding with the next guest.

As the evening wound down, with guests preparing to leave in order to attend the race in Louisville the next afternoon, I recalled some more of the famous guests to whom I had given readings at the Whitneys' in the past: Gloria Vanderbilt, William F. Buckley Jr., Barbara Walters, Patrick Wayne, Star Trek’s Captain Kirk (William Shatner, also a horse lover), his childhood friend, haute couture designer Arnold Scaasi, Governor Martha Lane Collins, Governor Gaston Caperton, Elaine Chao (as Mitch McConnell worked the crowd), J. T. Lundy, Mary Ann Mobely with Gary Collins and also Captain Mark Phillips, husband of Britain’s Princess Anne. Lucy Blodgett, society writer for the Voice-Tribune in Louisville, wrote about seeing the equestrian royal as I read his palm. The article somehow reached the Queen of England, and I received a letter with the Queen’s stationery and seal from her secretary, saying that the Queen of England was pleased that I read her son-in-law’s palm at her good friend Marylou Whitney’s.

I rarely dream about people whose palms I have read. But, six months after his reading, I dreamed of Rock Hudson October 2 1985, while visiting my sister. I had a vivid dream. Rock Hudson was sitting in a metal folding chair which hovered twelve inches above a linoleum floor. He looked frightened and asked me “Rebecca, can you help?” I told him I did not know what to do, but I would seek help from my teacher Kantilal. Immediately I was on the shore by the Indian Ocean. Kantilal said, “Rock knows what to do. Light is gathering.” A wave rolled me back to the room where the chair now empty ... was on the floor. I sat up from the dream as my sister walked by. “I had a dream of Rock Hudson.“ I said, and shared the story. “Wow! That is interesting," my sister said. "I heard on the news that he died today.” October 2, 1985.

I would hear, as did the world, that Hudson had AIDS and had been seeking therapy in France, hoping to extend his life. His announcement, I realized, took great courage for a man who clearly had his pride as well as a long-standing professional status to uphold.

Later, on the occasion of yet another Whitney party, comedian Joan Rivers had a palm reading in my booth. She spoke of the significance of Rock Hudson’s announcement and monetary contribution to start research for a cure. Joan said she had tried to raise funds for AIDS research years before Hudson’s death but couldn’t get a single major celebrity to attend an event or offer any contributions. She stated that it wasn’t until Rock Hudson made his announcement that anything changed for the better. His last note to the public stated that he was not happy to be dying, but he believed that he had raised awareness of AIDS, and helped people, and that this was his best work.

Soon other stars came to the cause, some with great commitment and effectiveness, such as Elizabeth Taylor. President Ronald Reagan finally spoke of the taboo subject and declared AIDS/HIV a public health crisis in America.

I did not know Rock had AIDS when I read his palm. I do feel certainty in the spirit of community, that we are all in this life together, and individual choices of action remind us we are not alone, even when we feel alone. Mrs. Whitney urged his reading in a timely fashion, providing a perfect confluence -- a party, a palm reader, and encouragement to make a difference.

William M. Hoffman, author of the Broadway play As Is, one of the first major plays about AIDS, which opened in 1985, stated, “If Rock Hudson can have it, nice people can have it. It’s just a disease, not a moral affliction.”

Much has changed in Kentucky and the world. Shame and prejudice lifted. New conversations could take place in families, in the media, and in government. An openly gay man made an accepted run for the Democratic nomination for president during this year 2020.

There is still no cure for AIDS, but a medication exists to keep it in check, and knowledge gained to prevent spread. Same sex marriage exists in Kentucky and the U.S. since 2015.

Now Kentucky is part of another pandemic where there is no dancing cheek to cheek at elegant Derby Eve parties in Lexington, no Pegasus Parades in Louisville, no filled boxes of Millionaires Row, no crowds in the infield. We have moved forward step-by-step with love, imagination and creativity. May we keep making footprints in Kentucky history even in Zoom rooms. May I hold hands at parties, and soothe-say again. And as Marylou and Sonny frequently said, “Never give up! Nothing is impossible. Everybody is a somebody.” I learned from Marylou that we all need help, and to keep showing up. I know as a palm reader, from foot to fontanel, the hands being the messengers of the heart, everything is connected.