By Frederick N. Rasmussen (The Baltimore Sun, 6/6/2010)
Speaking of beauty and truth, several vintage Baltimoreans chimed in on my Blaze Starr column.
“Fond memories,” wrote Nelson E. Reichert, a transportation consultant who lives in West Towson.
“I was probably one of the last guys to go on stage with her at my bachelor’s party,” wrote Reichert in an e-mail.
“Going for the rose buried in her bosom was a treat reserved only for guys getting married. The embarrassing part was when a friend’s father presented me with the rose about six months afterward at a party,” he wrote.
In the late 1960s, Reichert and several college buddies put on a 72-hour charity marathon football game to benefit Toys for Tots. To draw a crowd, they invited local celebrities to join them.
“Blaze came to one game and drew a good crowd. Wanting her autograph, but having nothing to write on, she autographed my chest with a Magic Marker,” Reichert wrote. “My father wouldn’t let me show it to my mother.”
Lee Rudolph, who was Starr’s insurance agent for many years, recalled having many “fine dealings with her over many years.”
“One point, if I may,” he wrote in an e-mail. “Her attraction was not limited to men, for many couples enjoyed her performance, that was until The Block turned sleazy and she got out of it.”
Jeri Delambo and her husband, who live in Roland Park, frequented Starr’s Two O’Clock Club in the early 1970s. “She was beautiful and her personality was beautiful,” wrote Delambo in an e-mail. “Those days are now long gone.”
