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tent; her sister Eva, in a multicolored creation that, according to Neile, “covered her from chin to instep and left everything to your imagination”; Joan Collins, in a red fishnet see-through dress (sans then-husband Anthony Newley); Jane Fonda, in a black vinyl miniskirt, with husband Roger Vadim; the Milton Berles, the Pat Boones, the David Janssens, the Ricardo Montalbans, the Peter Falks, the Warren Cowans, John Wayne, Ben Gazzara, Robert Culp, George Hamilton, the Kirk Douglases, Janet Leigh, Carroll Baker, Gena Rowlands and John Cassavetes, Eva Marie Saint, Howard Koch, Vince Edwards and Linda Foster, Inger Stevens and Frank McCarthy, Adam West (TV’s Batman), Noel Harrison, Jim Coburn, the Bob Mitchums, Lee Marvin and Michelle Triola, Stefanie Powers, Richard Crenna, Polly Bergen “in a slick silver suit,” Elke Sommer “in a periwinkle thing which fitted like another layer of epidermis,” Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman, Robert Vaughn, and Robert Wise. It was a quiet little get-together that caused Lee Marvin to quip, “If the bomb hit tonight, the motion picture industry would be wiped out.”

The next day Steve, Neile, and David Foster left for New York, where Foster had lined up key appearances on TV’s hottest live programs, The Ed Sullivan Show, What’s My Line? and The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Steve did both Sullivan and What’s My Line? the same Sunday night, December 18, 1966, two days before The Sand Pebbles’s big Tuesday night premiere. Both shows were de rigueur viewing for every American family. Sullivan’s end-of-the-weekend telecast was always filled with tension, due mostly to Sullivan’s quirky, non-telegenic qualities that somehow made him and his all-star show a must-see. After his Elvis and Beatles landmark shows, he had gained something of a reputation as an anointer of stars. On this night, midway through the show, he pointed out Steve, who was sitting in the audience dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and black tie, his hair freshly lightened and shaped by Sebring, and his smile on high wattage. He stood up in what appeared to be more of an extended crouch and waved to Sullivan.

About an hour later he was sequestered around the corner in a smaller studio used by CBS for several live daytime shows and, on Sunday nights, What’s My Line? Steve was scheduled to be the mystery guest, and two-thirds of the way into the show, the host, John Daly, asked the panelists to blindfold themselves and asked the mystery guest to sign in please! At that point, the screen switched to the familiar blackboard, and a hand scrawled “Steve McQueen” across it as the live studio audience went crazy. Steve then walked the few feet to the guest chair next to Daly and the questioning began. It didn’t take long for the panelists, all upscale New York celebrities in their own right—actress and television and radio personality Arlene Francis, TV star Steve Allen, Helen Gurley Brown (sitting in for panel regular Dorothy Kilgallen), and Random House publisher and bon vivant Bennett Cerf—to figure out who the mystery guest was. Four questions after Arlene began—each guest was allowed to ask one question in a rotating format—Cerf asked, “Are you about to star in a big, spectacular motion picture about to open?” Steve, looking relaxed while doing a spot-on impersonation of actor Walter Brennan, said, “Yeah, yeah, there’s no question about it.” Foster’s promotional campaign had made sure that anyone still breathing in America knew that Steve McQueen was opening in a big movie that week. The questioning went back to Francis, who asked, “Are you Steve McQueen?” and the audience’s cheers gave her the answer. After answering a few queries from John Daly about the “fifteen hundred extras” used and how dangerous it was to film so near the war zone of Vietnam, which apparently interested no one on the panel, Steve graciously stood up, crossed over to the four panelists, shook each hand, and left.

The next night Steve was on The Tonight Show. Johnny Carson’s uptightness often increased in direct proportion to the star quality of a guest