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Doris' favorite fan reminded her of her son Terry, who, Doris told everyone proudly, was off to camp all by himself. She spent much time writing him postcards.
■ When Doris Day and her husband Marty Melcher boarded the Super Chief for Chicago, en route to New York, it was with the distinct understanding that they were just ordinary passengers. "No autographs," Doris had said firmly. "No special favors. No publicity. We're on vacation. See?" The management of the Super Chief saw. In fact for twenty minutes after Doris boarded the train, the superintendent refrained from inviting them to dinner on the house. And for almost ten seconds the everhungry Marty refrained from accepting. Although the telegraph operators wired ahead to every station on the line that there were celebrities aboard, no one except porters, waiters, conductors, passengers and assorted fans gathered at the Melcher's compartment door for autographs. And as to Doris Day, girl hermit, it was at least five minutes before she got lonesome in the peace and quiet she had requested and flung open the door of the compartment to the first fans, settled happily down to signing autographs and told Marty, "Gee. Isn't it just awfully nice of everyone to make such a fuss?"
At a station stop Doris bought an Indian bow and arrow for Terry. "Say," she asked the Indian, "are these from Brooklyn?" "No," said he, "but I am!"
get on a long-distance train and stay!'
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But even on the train there was work. "At least," Doris said, "it puts me to sleep!