Providence—Missouri’s Helen Stephens kept yesterday’s meager crowd of 2,000 spectators at Brown University’s stadium riveted as she won all three of her events as a one-woman track team from William Woods College. The girl known as the Fulton Flash set a blistering pace in the 100-meter dash to finish five yards ahead of the second-place racer, Chicago native Annette Rogers. Her time clipped a tenth of a second off Stella Walsh’s previous best time of 11.8 seconds and set a new record. Handling the competition with ease, the eighteen-year-old also won the discus and shot put.
Dee Boeckmann, the first woman to coach an Olympic track and field team, narrowed the field of 115 athletes to a mere 20 Olympic team members, but the status of these ladies is not yet secure because budget shortfalls may force the American Olympic Committee to limit the number of athletes receiving sponsorship to Berlin. At this point, the 20 women will travel to New York City to await the AOC’s confirmation on who will travel to Germany to compete. The group contains many familiar faces, including Betty Robinson, the 1928 Olympic gold medalist who survived a plane crash. She came in fifth in the final heat of the individual 100-meter race and is included in the relay pool. Fellow Chicagoans Tidye Pickett and Annette Rogers competed strongly and are also on Boeckmann’s proposed roster for the relay pool.
Also a favored relay racer, Louise Stokes, the Malden Meteor, won both of her preliminary heats in the sprint with exceptional times, but she could not overcome the costly mistake of looking over her shoulder and almost stumbling into the last spot during the finals.
In a surprising development, several mothers performed admirably and could be on their way to the Olympics. After winning the 80-meter hurdles, tall and bespectacled Mrs. Anne Vrana O’Brien shifted her serious demeanor as she gushed, “I’ve never run so fast since my girl was born, two and a half years ago.” Plucky Mrs. Caroline Hale Woodson, a team favorite and silver medalist from the 1932 Olympics, came in fourth in the 80-meter hurdles. When asked how she maintains her training with motherhood, she said, “I run while my daughter naps in her pram parked next to the track.”
In a touching scene of maternal joy, Mrs. O’Brien, Mrs. Woodson, and Mrs. Gertrude Wilhelmsen of Puyallup, WA, who placed second in the discus and third in the javelin, compared photographs of their daughters. “I’ve already taught my girl to swim,” Mrs. Wilhelmsen boasted. If they advance to Berlin, only time will tell if these women are capable of focusing on the competition at hand without becoming distracted or distraught by the absence of their children.
41.
July 6, 1936
New York City
A FLEET OF TAXICABS CROSSED MIDTOWN HEADING toward Times Square and screeched to a halt in front of the Lincoln Hotel. Betty stepped from one and Dee Boeckmann, Annette Rogers, and Olive Hasenfus spilled out behind her. Item by item, the cabbie disgorged suitcases, dropped them on the sidewalk, and turned toward Dee, his hand outstretched impatiently awaiting payment.
At the same instant, a dented black Ford coughed its way into the melee of idling vehicles and Helen leaned out the window, her eyes round and glittering. “Hey, fancy meeting you here. So this is the big leagues now, huh?” Without awaiting an answer, she threw her door open, oblivious to the crush of people and luggage on the sidewalk, and looked upward, squinting. “Whoa, I’ve never been inside such a tall building.”
“Even when you’ve gone to Chicago or Toronto for races?” asked Betty.
“Nope. This is a first.”
A handsome man rounded the front bumper, his light blue eyes glittering with mischief. “So what do you think, Helen? Can I be sure that you’re actually going to make it onto that boat next week? There are a lot of distractions around here.”
“I’ll say, but I’ll do better on the track than in a dance hall. Don’t worry, Coach, I’ll stay on the straight and narrow. Now let me introduce you to my friend Miss Robinson.” She turned to Betty. “This is my coach, Mr. Burton Moore.”
“The honor is all mine,” he said, tipping his hat.
Betty shook his hand. “So this is the end of the line for you?”
“Afraid so.”
Betty shaded her eyes with her hand and was able to see a pretty woman sitting in the front seat of the Ford with a baby in her arms. Through the dusty windshield, she waved.
All of a sudden, Helen appeared to bite the inside of her mouth and looked surprisingly uncertain. “Coach, thanks for everything. Be sure that no one forgets about me while I’m gone.”
“First thing I’ll do when we get home is to go talk to the mayor and get the boosters to send you more money. You’re going to need it.”
“Thanks.” Helen hefted a battered valise from the back seat of the car. She leaned into the window to kiss Mrs. Moore. Betty watched, pulling her pocketbook closer to her chest and envying the ease with which they discussed securing more funds. She had only three measly dollars left. How on earth would she afford traveling back to Chicago if she didn’t make it to Berlin?
Pushing her money worries to the furthest recesses of her mind, Betty allowed herself to be swept into the hotel by her teammates and porters in burgundy uniforms. The high-ceilinged lobby gleamed with marble floors and mirrors with beveled edges lining its walls. Ficus trees poked out of large ceramic chinoiserie-patterned planters, and a crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling.
At the elevator, Betty paused and turned to see Helen stopped, gaping at the grand decor of the lobby. “Helen? You coming?”
Helen turned in a full circle, taking it all in one more time before bounding toward where the women waited for her. Then they pressed themselves into the confines of the elevator and headed skyward with a jolt. At the seventh floor, they
