after several months of probation work, standing on my feet some ten to twelve hours a day, I decided that as a nurse I was a pretty good entertainer.

I learn my songs by ear.

I am exceedingly lucky that my voice, along with perfect pitch and perfect rhythm, was given me at birth.

Ice cream was my undoing, and six chocolate milk shakes in a row were nothing to me at one time.

I could see myself in a white nurse's uniform, working unnoticed for many years and at last dying, unknown, unmarried and unsung.

I just can't read music.

Every small town has its dramatic group, its barber-shop quartet, every home has music in one form or another.