The Celebration

Alvin Rodecker was a successful and likable Detroit businessman. Secretary-treasurer of a financial firm, he lived in a fashionable neighborhood, had a son, a daughter and four grandchildren, interested himself in philanthropy (Detroit's Hundred Club, which helps the families of deceased policemen and firemen). As his 60th birthday came upon him last week, Rodecker decided that it was time to pamper himself a little, so he and his wife went off on a three-day holiday to celebrate. Off to New York City they went, to enjoy the bright magic of the town--the many-splendored hotels, the glittering shows, the restaurants, the incredible traffic and the cockeyed tempo, the funny things and the sad things that always seem to happen to people. They took a $50-a-day suite at the Plaza, and set out to have themselves a fine time.

On the afternoon of his birthday, Rodecker treated his wife to lunch at one of Manhattan's best restaurants, Le Pavilion (Saumon Fume, $3; Germiny aux Paillettes, $3; Pigeonneau aux Olives. $6; coffee, 70-c-. Afterward, they strolled the few steps up 57th Street toward the corner of Park Avenue, underneath the windows of the Ritz Tower, where lives, among others,TV Star (What's My Line?) Arlene Francis* with her husband, Producer Martin Gabel, and her 13-year-old son. As the Rodeckers walked by, a maid in the Gabel's eighth-floor apartment began removing a screen from a window. The screen--a substitute for an air conditioner that had gone out of whack--was propped in place by a couple of towel-wrapped dumbbells. The maid removed one of the dumbbells but the oth er, an eight-pounder, rolled down the windowsill. The maid lunged to grab it.

Alvin Rodecker, musing over the luncheon at Le Pavilion, turned cheerfully to his wife. "Holy cow!" he said. "That was expensive. But it was worth it. We're really celebrating." At that instant the plummeting dumbbell cracked his skull. Doctors performed emergency surgery, but Rodecker never regained consciousness, and 24 hours later he was dead.

* Vivacious Arlene Francis (who is also author of a new book, That Certain Something: The Magic of Charm) explained another sharp edge of New York in a New York Post interview last week: she was denied the chance to buy another cooperative apartment because "they discovered that I was married to a Jew, and therefore the apartment was unavailable."

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