February 8, 1986. One winter evening, while my girlfriends and I unwound with a glass of wine on our balcony dreaming plots and plans, we decided our next adventure should be to target John St. John’s upcoming sixty-eighth birthday and honor him in a special way – with a surprise party. It would have three components: (1) get two of his best friends who we knew to kidnap him out of the Robbery-Homicide office; (2) cover his eyes with a silk scarf so he wouldn’t know where he was going; (3) haul him to Taylor’s Steak House where his friends would shortly arrive. We decided for entertainment, we’d dream up a musical tribute titled: “King of the Big Dick Squad” and serenade him. It just so happened that one of my girlfriends was an opera diva – blonde with a gorgeous voice and lots of stage presence.
We plotted. We planned. We got in touch with John’s detective friends to help us. We got presents, worn-out pair of shoes, balloons, a car repair kit, a cake, thrift store goodies and my life-size Bugs Bunny stuffed animal.
The big day arrived, and we were ready. My two kidnappers wore black leather outfits, my soprano wore pink and I wore what I dragged out of the closet. The kidnapping out of the Robbery-Homicide office went perfectly without a hitch. John got to Taylor’s, we took a big table in the upstairs restaurant, drinks were ordered, John opened his presents, and we sang our tribute which he loved. The highlight was Diana singing, “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” – John’s favorite. It brought the house down.
Between the kidnapping, Bugs Bunny, the goofy presents, the cake, our perfect lyrical tribute, and a wee bit of drinking – John had a birthday he’d never forget.
