Hepburn visits Bainbridge deli, where a friendship is formed

When the glass door opened on the usual busy lunch hour at the Island Delicatessen and Creamery, I don't remember who first noticed the unmistakable figure framed in the doorway, but we all froze and stared in astonishment.

There was Katharine Hepburn poised in the doorway, assured of her impact on all of us. As the owner of the gourmet food store, I introduced myself and welcomed her and Phyllis, her secretary, who at that moment was fussing over Katharine's wispy hair.

They were going to picnic at an old friend's house and would need sandwiches, etc., for lunch. Both Katharine and Phyllis were gracious and deferred to our food choices. We, of course, packed a banquet that Paul their driver put into the light-blue limo, already an attraction in Winslow.

I mentioned that we had tickets to "West Side Waltz" the following evening, and Katharine invited us backstage. Paul gave us detailed instructions and said he would be waiting at the stage door.

My husband was skeptical but knew that Miss Hepburn was my favorite actress, so he graciously went along with the evening. After the final curtain we dashed to the stage door, and Paul was there as arranged. Suddenly there was Katharine and I was introducing her to Norm. When she said he reminded her of Spencer (Tracy), he turned on the charm. She slipped her arm through his and took him off to meet the rest of the cast as I trailed behind. She did say, however, that I made the best "damned sandwiches."

Because Katharine liked the ferry ride and Bainbridge Island reminded her of Connecticut, Phyllis said they might return another day. When she called the following week, she asked if I might suggest another picnic spot. It was pouring rain and very gloomy, but I settled on the Bloedel Estate, with which I was familiar. I called the estate office with some misgivings. Prentice Bloedel himself returned my call and was most gracious and delighted to invite them.

We again prepared a lunch and they came in the blue limo, which people recognized, and a small crowd was forming. I had alerted my high-school-age daughter and swore her to secrecy, saying she could bring the four other girls who also worked in the deli to catch a glimpse of the famous actress they barely knew.

Katharine by this time was out of the limo and waiting for me in the courtyard. When I described the spectacular gardens and the lovely tea house, she was hesitant because she had not met the Bloedels and didn't want to intrude. Phyllis and her other guest urged her to accept my offer, so Katharine took charge and insisted she should ride with me in my car and the limo would follow. As we walked to the car, I introduced Cindi and the girls whose combed hair and lovely smiles impressed even me. Katharine was gracious and talked to them like adults and contemporaries.

We chatted like old friends on the short drive to the Bloedel Estate, and when I told her the girls skipped school to meet her she was delighted. She insisted they were mavericks and said she had been one all her life. "After all, I wore pants long before it was fashionable and, of course, Spencer and I lived together all those years."

The approach to the Bloedel Estate was warm and welcoming, even on that gray day. Miss Hepburn was speechless as we drove to the tea house, where there was a fire in the fireplace and a lovely tea service on the table.

She insisted on meeting her hosts, so we started down the driveway only to meet the Bloedels driving up. Katherine jumped out of the car, and the handsome and dignified Prentice Bloedel reached for her hand and bent down and kissed it and promised to take her for a walk through the gardens after they finished lunch.

Back at the store I realized what an amazing hour it had been and assumed I would never see her again. However, she came into the deli on her way to the ferry later in the afternoon, gave me a wonderful hug and with all her theatrical mannerisms said she had a wonderful afternoon. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Katharine Hepburn and I communicated several times, and I really treasure the letters. I will miss her.

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About the essayist


Ann Sievertson has lived on Bainbridge Island for more than 30 years, where she owned and operated the Island Delicatessen and Creamery from about 1979 to 1982. She said she wanted to share this story because it is one of the highlights of her life.