Special delivery tells exactly what kind of man Sinatra was

By Brian Greenspun (contact)

Sunday, Dec. 13, 2015 | 2 a.m.

Belated happy birthday to Frank Sinatra, and happy birthday to my dear friend John Moran Jr. and, while I am at it, me!

John and I are superfluous to this story; it was just a way to mention John’s name because I forgot to buy him a present!

I have always remembered Sinatra’s birthday because he celebrated it the day after mine and when you are a kid growing up in Las Vegas, well, almost sharing a birthday with the Chairman of the Board was a very big deal.

I also had the great privilege of knowing him in those very early days when the Rat Pack was just thinking about getting together and Frank’s pal Sammy Davis Jr. was being denied access to stay in the hotels where he performed. It was also the time when newspaper publishers — actually, only the one I called Dad — were railing against the mistreatment of all “Negroes” and in full support of Sinatra’s efforts to put an end to such maltreatment.

That effort was enough to make Sinatra and my father very close friends — which they were — but the friendship was forged many years earlier and had nothing to do with Sinatra’s star status in Las Vegas. The events that created the bond revolved around a tiny country called Israel and the circumstances of its birth in 1948.

With all the due credit being heaped upon Sinatra on the occasion of his 100th birthday, it seems to me that I should tell a story — which was made public in the mid-1990s by the man at the center of the story. His name was Teddy Kollek.

Sinatra was unmatched and untouchable in the music and entertainment world. We all know that.

But that part of his life that really defined him — his compassion for and empathy with those who needed help — was epitomized by a story Teddy told a small group of supporters in 1993.

Teddy was the longest-serving mayor of Jerusalem (1965-93) who had decided at age 84 to make one last run for the job that positively defined Arab-Jewish compatibility throughout his mayoralty. The re-election effort brought Teddy to Los Angeles to raise some money from his friends to further his cause. The hosts for the fundraising event were Barbara and Frank Sinatra.

My wife and I went with my mother because, as far as friendship went, my mother and father were at the top of the longevity list. When my father set out on his escapade to obtain guns, munitions and equipment for the coming war between the newly created state of Israel and her Arab enemies in 1948, Teddy was the man in charge of the entire clandestine effort in the United States. My dad worked for Teddy in that effort.

And while I knew that Frank Sinatra had been an ardent and committed supporter of the state of Israel, its people and its right to exist, it wasn’t until that night in Los Angeles that I learned why. And just how he and my father had forged their own lifelong bond.

After Sinatra introduced Teddy, Jerusalem’s no-nonsense and most compassionate mayor went immediately off script. It was no longer about him and his re-election effort. Perhaps it was the state of Sinatra’s declining health at the time or perhaps it was just the mood for telling long-kept secrets that needed telling. Whatever the reason, Teddy told a story about a young Sinatra.

When Teddy was sent to New York on a secret mission by the man who would become Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben Gurion, it was to obtain the money and the materials of war necessary for Israel’s unarmed Jews to defend themselves against the certain attack from five Arab armies poised to drive the newly created Israel into the sea — a common theme these past seven decades. Teddy stayed in the Hotel 14, which wasn’t particularly known for its lavish accommodations but was known around the world for the nightclub that took up residence in the basement.

The Copacabana. Yes, the same one.

For months and months, Teddy kept his mission a secret from everyone, including a skinny, young Italian singer named Frank Sinatra. Sinatra could be found most nights performing at the Copacabana. The way Teddy told the story, Frank provided the totality of Teddy’s socializing because to venture outside the Hotel 14 meant certain run-ins with the FBI, which Teddy needed to avoid. Their friendship grew over the ensuing months as they visited between and after Sinatra’s sets. Not once did Teddy tell Sinatra what he was doing in the United States, and not once did Frank ask!

Many months later it came to pass that Teddy had arranged a large cargo ship in New York Harbor to be laden with all kinds of weapons and munitions vital to any effort waged by the unarmed Jewish settlers who waited impatiently for the promised help they would need to defend themselves. Time was running short.

Teddy had agreed to a bribe (an inducement) for the Irish ship’s captain to cover the contraband in bags of sugar and sail it all out of New York and beyond the reach of the authorities. He had the money but also had a problem. With the FBI following him 24/7, he worried they would not only confiscate the bribe money but, worse, the vitally needed weapons waiting in the hold of that ship would be confiscated as well.

That night, Teddy made his usual trip to the Copacabana. He enjoyed the Man and his music and then, as he did every night, Frank joined Teddy for a late-night, early-morning visit. This time was different. Frank noticed Teddy was not himself, that he was genuinely concerned about something.

So Frank asked Teddy what was wrong. And that is when Teddy included Sinatra in the conspiracy to violate the laws of the United States of America. Teddy told his friend why he was in America and he told him the consequences to the Israelis if that ship and its contents did not get out of New York and over to the Middle East immediately.

And then he told Frank Sinatra of his dilemma: If he took the money to the ship’s captain, the feds would follow him and confiscate it all. The ship was leaving that day, with or without the needed armaments. He was out of time. The money had to get delivered!

At 6 a.m. that day, Teddy went out the front door of the Hotel 14 with his briefcase in hand. The FBI followed him.

At the same time and out the back door and through the kitchen went Sinatra, carrying a paper bag full of cash — cash that he would personally deliver to that Irish captain.

The ship sailed, the weapons made it to Israel and the homeland of the Jews won its war of independence.

So, as we celebrate the 100th birthday of Frank Sinatra, his music and the incredible impact he made on the world in which he lived, let us never forget the man he really was: The man who would risk it all for someone in need of a little help.

Happy birthday, Mr. Sinatra.

Brian Greenspun is owner, publisher and editor of the Sun.