P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

“I WANT MY TWENTY BUCKS BACK!”

If you successfully get to the $32,000 level on Regis Philbin’s show, your life OUGHT to be changed forever. And should you leave ABC with a million bucks, you should never sweat the small stuff again: tips for waitresses, an offering at church, forgiveness for your enemies.

Connie Jeffery: I guess it’s common knowledge that I’ve been the biggest Who Wants to Be a Millionaire fan here at the Adventist Media Center. Me and Donna Webb. We watch it every night. And then the next day at lunch, or during break, we’re always going, “Did you see that guy who called his MOTHER for a lifeline?” “Did you see that moron miss the $200 question? Unbelievable!” And at least three times a week we call the toll-free number. See who’s going to get on the show first.

And then finally, about two months ago, I got on! They called me back after I qualified, gave me the next round of fastest-finger-questions over the phone, and it was all stuff I totally knew. I mean, easy! And when one of the producers told me, “Connie, you’re on!,” I freaked out. Donna Webb and I were both dancing around the office. “We’re going on the show! We’re going on the show!”

Right before we headed to the airport, my son Craig said to me. “If you see my friend Seth, who works at ABC in New York now, be sure to get that twenty bucks back from him.” And I said, “What are you talking about?” And he got real — you know how teenage kids are with their moms, like we’re idiots — “Seth. You remember, with the spiked hair.” Then I remembered right away. We drove this high school senior clear from Camarillo down to the airport, three-and-a-half hours round trip, stop and go all the way, and when we get to curbside, he just says, “Oh yeah, I forgot to get the gas money for you from my mom. But I’ll try to give it to you later.” And I said, yeah, right. No big deal, but it did kind of grind our gears the whole way home how he stiffed us.

Anyway, Donna and I had a marvelous flight to New York, flew right over the Statue of Liberty, went out to eat at La Bernardin, had a wonderful time. And when we got to the studios, it was just so much fun to be around all that show-biz stuff.

We were riding up in the elevator to where they do makeup, and there was the nicest lady in there with us. About my age, 45, Oriental, and she had on a silk scarf that looked like it was maybe Chinese and Vietnamese or something. So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she said, “Bangkok.” She and her husband both worked in some kind of import-export business, come to New York about once a year. I asked her if they had a version of Millionaire in Thailand and she said yes, but she wanted to see the Regis variety. And as we got off she told me, Caw hai choke dee, which she said meant good luck. Really sweet.

So . . . I got my makeup on. Donna had a wireless mike, I had a wireless mike, and I was ready to go. They were finishing up with some contestant from the night before, he quit with $64,000, and we did a fastest-finger. “Put these TV dramas in order, starting with the earliest.” And I just hit them perfect: “Bonanza, Lou Grant, Law and Order, West Wing.” Boom boom boom boom. Three point four one seconds, my screen lit up, people were clapping, and I was on the hot seat three feet away from Mr. Regis Philbin. Behind me Donna was already smarting off, and kidding back and forth with Regis.

And we got started. First five questions, no problem. I was really sailing. Two thousand, four thousand, eight thousand, still all my lifelines. I finally polled the audience to get the $32,000 answer, and about 84% of them picked “D” and I got it right.

After the commercial break, the $64,000 question was something I’d heard my older brother George talk about, so I got that correct. I got the next one myself, phoned my friend Ruth on the $250,000 one, and all of a sudden was down to two questions left, one lifeline remaining. Regis was really rooting for me to get it, Donna was going nuts behind me, like, “I get half!,” and my heart was really pounding. Then on the question for half a million, it was something about the ancient kingdom of Hunza. Which my dad had talked about on TV a hundred times. And before I could even think, we were up to the 15th question. One million bucks. MY one million bucks . . . and I lose $468,000 if I miss.

And here it came. Something about the longest-reigning current monarch, from Thailand. What’s his name? And I didn’t know. I had no clue. But I knew that Thai people always have really long names, and one name was short. So I didn’t think that was it. And the “D” answer sounded more like Korean, and I didn’t think that was it either. It had to be either B or C. So I used my last lifeline, the 50-50, and of course, it still left B and C. But I was thinking back, racking my brain, praying, everything I could think of, and it seemed like on a Voice of Prophecy program, Lonnie had mentioned the King of Thailand. And maybe his name started with a B. I couldn’t remember for sure, but the “C” answer was “Bhumipol.” The “B” name, still up there, was something like “Chulalongkorn.” Which was Thai-sounding too. But this was for a million bucks, and I was totally freaking out.

And then, all of a sudden — I don’t know why — I remembered that Thai lady from the elevator. And just instinctively — I wasn’t meaning to cheat or anything — but I looked over there. I could see her in the audience, out of the corner of my eye, giving a little motion to the right. She was just sort of giving a little point, to the right. Which would be “B.” And you know what? Even though I’d been leaning toward “C,” when I saw her point to the right, I said to Regis, “B. Final answer. B.”

And there was this long pause. Like he always does . . . waiting . . . waiting. And just as he started to speak, something in my brain screamed: “NO!! That lady was point to HER left, which looked like right to ME. So she MEANT ‘C’!” And Regis, his face kind of white, said to me: “No . . . Connie . . . I’m sorry. It was ‘C’. But you leave . . . with $32,000.”

And right at that moment — I was just dying, of course — a TV producer came charging out. “Hold it! Stop tape!” And right in front of everybody, with the cameras stopped, he told Regis: “There was a lady signaling. We got it all on Camera Three.” And the place freaked out. They saw her signaling, and saw ME seeing it.

So they took me in a back room — Regis Philbin and me and the producers — and began going over it. Did I know that lady? No, I just saw her on the elevator. Had we set up to signal each other? Obviously not, because I got it wrong. And that really had Regis bothered. He asked me, “Had I INTENDED to get an answer from her?” And I didn’t know what to say. No, not really. It didn’t go through my brain, “She’s from Thailand, she might know. Take a peek over there.” But maybe in my subconscious . . . I don’t know.

And finally, after about 20 minutes, Regis said, “Look, it’s not her fault. And that lady in the audience obviously threw her off, maybe made her miss.” Which — I don’t know if that’s true or not – I probably would have just walked with $500,000. But he wanted to give me another shot at a million.

And you know what? That’s what they did. They told the studio audience there had been an “irregularity.” They set up another question, rolled the cameras again. And I couldn’t believe it! We just did a program on Voice of Prophecy about the Julius and Ethel Rosenberg spy case, and here was the question: “Who was the prosecuting attorney?” The same guy who prosecuted Alger Hiss. And there was the answer: “A: Irving Saypol.” I didn’t even wait, I didn’t use my lifeline, I didn’t go into histrionics: I just said: “‘A,’ Regis. Final answer. A.” One million bucks. Confetti, music, Donna was crying, everything. One million dollars. And as Regis hugged me, he said, “You lucked out, sweetheart. Don’t forget that.” And I told him: “I know.”

And now, get this. We get out to valet parking, where our Dollar rent-a-car is, and lo and behold, that kid Seth is the attendant! From Camarillo, California, with my twenty dollars, and he’s getting the cars at the ABC network. And as he gives us our keys, I remind him of it. “Do you have that twenty dollars gas money you owe Craig and me?” And he kind of winces. “No, ma’am, not on me. I just started working here a week ago Tuesday and had to pay first and last months rent.” He looked in his pocket and said, “I’ve got, like, five. You can have it if you want.” And I said, “No, twenty. Twenty bucks. We choked our way through the smog to LAX for you, and the agreed upon price was twenty bucks. Not five. Now have you got it or what?” And Donna kept saying, “Connie, forget it. Just forget it.” But I didn’t want to forget it. It had been a long, tense night, this dumb kid was still stiffing me and I wanted my twenty bucks.

And then — we were in the #1 exit lane — a limo pulled through Gate #2. And lo and behold, who gets out but Mr. Philbin. He says to the kid, Seth, “What’s the problem?” And he tells him: “This lady says I owe her twenty bucks. And I haven’t got it. WHAT SHALL I DO, REEGE?” He called him “Reege” like he’s his uncle or something.

And Regis Philbin just gives me the longest hard look; I’ll never forget it. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and walks over and hands it to me. “You want twenty bucks?” he asks. “Here. Twenty bucks.” And he pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and hits speed dial. As he climbs back into his limo I hear him say, real cold: “Get me the producer. NOW.”