At Sebring or the Nürburgring, it might have won him the Grand Prix. But the white Porsche of Britain's onetime Race Ace Stirling Moss, 35, now married to a pretty New Yorker and presumably a sedater, wiser man, was gathering lichen in a Hampshire traffic tie-up until he rolled into the right-hand lane to lap the pack. Whooshing through, he swiped an oncoming red MG that had refused to yield the wrong of way until threatened with extinction. Stirling thought the driver of the MG was "just one of those nuts trying to be cussed," but he was a former fan, who recognized Moss and haled him in to court. The judge flashed the red light: $39 in fines, plus $64 in court costs.
Now it can be told, or at least Anthony J. Celebrezze, 54, Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare, was telling it in Washington last week. In 1953, when he became mayor of Cleveland, his wife heard their five-year-old, Susan, announcing to one and all, "I'm Susan Celebrezze, daughter of Mayor Celebrezze." "You cut that out. You're Susan Celebrezze and that's all," hollered Mamma through an open window. Next day, a neighbor lady gushed, "I know you. You're Susan Celebrezze, the mayor's daughter." "Oh no," said Susan. "My mommy says I'm not."
Lyndon Johnson was there—on tape. "All free men are in your debt," he told the guest of honor, General Curtis LeMay, 58, the recently retired Air Force chief, at a $100-a-plate Air Force benefit in Manhattan. "A lot of people told the general to retire years ago," boomed the voice of another faraway admirer, Bob Hope. "Fortunately, he doesn't understand Russian." While such tributes came over the loudspeakers, the gifts given LeMay were delightfully real, especially a $1,500 Winchester big-game rifle. And so were the decorations from Movieland: Italy's Gina Lollobrigida, Joan Bennett's 22-year-old socialite daughter, Stephanie Wanger Guest, and Kay Gable, 46, Clark's widow, who asked LeMay to autograph his picture for her.
Thundering up from Zurich in a Galaxie, Henry and Christina Austin Ford settled in for a St. Moritz honeymoon at the Palace Hotel, which is as classy as and only a trifle noisier than a Rolls-Royce. They had to take lessons in skiing, of course, but their aprés-ski hours with the jet set were cool enough to keep them on the late brunch list. Not so pleasant was their excommunication by the Roman Catholic Church.* The Fords announced themselves "surprised" and "worried." Said Henry: "I will try to sort this out as soon as I return to the States."
"Look homeward, Americans," Stewart Udall, 45, exhorted 900 members of the New York Sales Executive Club in Manhattan. Clad in a sharp sharkskin suit and loafers, the Interior Secretary argued that by seeing the U.S.A. Americans can help stem the gold outflow. "Santa Fe is as interesting as Seville, and the Rockies surpass the Alps. Our Spanish missions and Indian villages have an antiquity transcending Europe's. As for festivals, Pablo Casals' Puerto Rican festival takes no back seat to Salzburg or Bayreuth, nor does the Tyrone Guthrie festival in Minneapolis." That's what the man said.