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WHEN SINATRA RETIRED in 1971, Jack Benny visited Frank in the dressing room before his farewell performance and cracked up the understandably nervous singer by calling attention to his recent political about-face, extreme as it was. “This man endorses Ronald Reagan for governor of California. Now I would have endorsed Reagan quietly, but Frank did it first. So I come out second with a little endorsement, and what do I get from Frank Sinatra the next day but a one word telegram. It says ‘copycat.’” Benny, master of the slow double-take and expert at timing, pauses. “Now I would like to retire, only”—sputter—“only, I can’t.” Then the two men talked comparative golf, and others (Cary Grant, Sammy Davis, Don Rickles) came to the dressing room to pay their respects.

Los Angeles, June 13, 1971. The audience included the Agnews, the Reagans, Henry Kissinger. Sinatra began with “All or Nothing at All” and, as if to review his career, “I’ll Never Smile Again,” “Nancy,” “Ol’ Man River,” “I’ve Got You under My Skin,” “The Lady Is a Tramp,” “Fly Me to the Moon,” and “My Way.” He concluded his farewell with “Angel Eyes.” The stage went dark, and he lit a cigarette. “Thanks to stagecraft and the majesty of his singing, Sinatra stage-managed a perfect coda,” Will Friedwald writes. “As he delicately entered a diminuendo, the smoke from his cigarette gradually enveloped him as both the volume and the spotlight grew smaller and smaller. Finally, when Sinatra uttered the last line, ‘’Scuse me while I disappear,’ he was gone.”

After so perfect an exit, why did he return to the fray? Rosalind Russell, an old Sinatra friend, had the simplest and most convincing explanation. “He was simply bored,” she said.

Lauren Bacall, a consolation for Frank in the wake of Ava.
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