Doorman

When it's 1958, New York City, and you've got a plumb job at a Park Avenue hotel, the old, prestigious "812', you're going to have your moments. Like one morning, Greta Garbo herself steps out of a Checker cab, and your eyes pop like a cartoon.

Or, when you're the privately requested concierge for the Governor's guests, and it all has to go perfectly, or else. From expert doorman to consummate concierge, Franky Dullis has seen and done it all, every big or small hotel job.

But one day stands out, as doormen like to pun, a day in a long, notable career, unforgettable, uniquely great. But it started out like any typical day for Franky, no clue of the drama afoot. That's how the whole episode started, a police foot-chase beginning at the hotel's far corner off Fourth Avenue. Doormen are trained to stay sharp at all times, Franky already noticed the commotion down the empty sidewalk.

Two uniforned officers running full-tilt, and their elusive suspect well ahead of them with his after-burners on, in desperate flight. Franky, peering around the doorway's edge, saw the racing trio headed right towards him. Quickly reaching around inside his doorway, Franky grabbed hold of a walking stick, a few always on a rack.

Timing his shot with an nine-ball player's focus, Franky waited until the fleeing suspect was just at his door before thrusting the cane straight out, ankle-high across the pavement.

The hapless runner tripped, and literally became the great long-jumper, flying head first right into a concrete planter, kind of a swan dive to doom. Franky quickly stepped back into his hotel lobby, and locked the doors.

Then, Franky watched the police handcuff the skinned-up dasher, who others later said was a foiled purse-snatcher. Through the glass door, one of the cops gave him a thumb's up and a nod. Yup, you have your moments with this job, Franky smiled.