I remember the first time I met Hef (Hugh Marston Hefner). It was Sept. 19, 1974. I drove to Chicago in my little MGB convertible from Dupo, Ill., and right into the Playboy Mansion at 1340 N. State Parkway.
What struck me the most about him was that he was a real gentleman, albeit one dressed in pajamas and smoking a pipe. After the butler welcomed me “home,” I passed into a surreal world that began in a richly paneled wood ballroom filled with people — beautiful women, celebs and a large backgammon table, which I came to know as one of his passions.
My husband reminded me when I woke up this morning that this is the first time in my adult life that Hef isn’t in it.