The Pittsburgh Press (November 20, 1944)
Gracie Allen Reporting
By Gracie Allen
Well, here we are in New York and, my goodness, what a time we had getting hotel accommodations. Why, it’s worse than Washington. But George and I finally got a cozy little single room with hot-and-cold-running strangers.
The lineup of people waiting to brush their teeth in our room alone reads like a “Who’s Who.” We haven’t had time to unpack, as we’ve been introducing ourselves all morning.
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen George in some time, but I know he’s here in the room. We promised to meet over near the bridge lamp at five o’clock for coffee.
George was upset about all this and asked to see the manager. But it turned out the manager was in Albany. He lives there. It’s the only place he could find a room.