The Hefner Brothers and Friends
Hugh Hefner dead? In 2017 it was announced that Hugh Hefner, age 91, had died. What a flood of memories! Reopening this long-closed chapter—so jarring, and so thick with nostalgia.
Hefner founded the Playboy Magazine in 1953 and later opened the Playboy Mansion, a splendid old house, in Chicago featuring attractive women wearing a costume modeled after the Playboy Magazine trademark called a “bunny suit:” a strapless bodysuit paired with a bow tie, rabbit ears and a fluffy tail. As poor Northwestern students, Robbie and I would stop at the Playboy Mansion on a night out in Chicago because the place was pleasant, the drinks reasonable and the hors d'oeuvres so generous we could make it our dinner.
When I moved to Aspen, I became acquainted with Hugh’s brother, Keith, a songwriter, actor, Playboy executive and director of recruiting and training bunnies. I went to several parties at Keith’s unusual home (which has a mirrored ceiling in the master bedroom) on Shadow Mountain overlooking Aspen. However, Robbie and I never had the courage to attend one of the famous New Year's Eve parties where everyone left their clothes in the entry.
One day Keith Hefner called to tell me that Hugh and Barbi Benton were coming to town and asked if I could get them a really nice apartment. It was 1970 and I had just finished the Château Roaring Fork, so I arranged for them to stay in the Bartlett's apartment, right on the river at the corner of the building. I had the housekeepers make sure the apartment was extra clean and even put in fresh flowers. To my surprise when they moved in Keith called saying the apartment was unsatisfactory. I had forgotten that the Bartlett's were an older Kansas City couple and had twin beds in the master bedroom, so I quickly had the maintenance staff push the beds together and install a king mattress and the problem was solved.
Nothing more was heard from the happy couple and three days later a bottle of wine and a thank you note from Keith showed up at my office. I took the wine home and put it in the wine rack on our kitchen counter. A few days later, Keith’s secretary called to be sure the wine had been received because it was Lafite Rothschild, 1952, one of the finest and rarest wines in the world. I rushed home fearing that Robbie may have used that exquisite wine to flavor our stew and was greatly relieved to find it was still in the rack. For several years that bottle was moved carefully from place to place but always kept cool and horizontal. We finally opened it on a special occasion, and it did not disappoint, it truly was a superb wine.
Barbi, who was a Playboy centerfold at the ripe old age of 50, married George Gradow, an eccentric mobile home park developer, in 1979. They built an incredible 25,000 square foot home in Starwood, the only gated community in Aspen. They have matching lap pools because they like the water at different temperatures and they are both shoe freaks with each having a room to store shoes larger than most bedrooms. They also have a balcony off the master bedroom where the bed can be automatically moved so they can sleep outside, under the stars, in nice weather.
George is noted for his flashy, outlandish attire and colorful shoes. He might be wearing gold sandals, a Tux, and a striped T-shirt. He was always weirdly dressed, including bizarre biking outfits and colorful, rhinestone-studded running shoes. He was a bicycle fanatic and frequently passed me on the highway going half again faster than I could and I was not in bad shape.
Barbie and George still live in Starwood in the same house, I have not seen them since I have gone blind.