Miss Unlikely by Betty Cantrell Maxwell

Author:Betty Cantrell Maxwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2019-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

There She Is, Miss America

On the morning of September 15, 2015, I woke up still feeling sick from my sinus infection. It was the final night of the Miss America pageant and the celebration of the Miss America Organization’s ninety-fifth, hallmark anniversary. It was also the culmination of all my hard work. An all-new panel of celebrity judges would use their fresh perspectives to determine who would become the next Miss America. Vanessa Williams, the 1984 Miss America winner and the first African-American woman to hold the title, was our head judge, and the other judges included Brett Eldredge, Taya Kyle, Danica McKellar, Kevin O’Leary, Amy Purdy, and Zen-daya. As soon as we arrived at Boardwalk Hall that morning for prep and rehearsals, I started chugging Emergen-C and hot tea and doing everything I could to make my throat feel better. I was going to have to rely on pure adrenaline to get me through the day and night.

The telecast always begins with the announcement of the top fifteen contenders who are still in the running for the crown. Those who don’t make the top fifteen must remain in the dresses they wore for the opening number and watch the entire competition unfold from the side of the stage, or the “Loser Lounge” as we contestants called it. It’s brutal. The top fifteen compete all over again in the same categories from the prelims: swimsuit, evening gown, talent, and on-stage question.

A huge dressing room backstage held all of the contestants while we got ourselves ready. This was the first (and last) year in which contestants were prohibited from bringing people in to help with hair and makeup, which gave all of us one more thing to stress about. We each had a small table to ourselves, and on the table was a mirror with lights. Girls were curling and teasing their hair and carefully swirling makeup brushes across their eyelids. Others were stretching or, like me, warming up their vocal cords.

It was awkward to warm up as a singer because it’s not as subtle as a dancer quietly stretching. There’s also the reality that you may not even get the opportunity to perform your talent, but it’s better to be prepared than not in the event your name is called. I had to sing “la, la, la, la, la, la, la” over and over again—and loudly. The energy among the contestants was calm and focused, so I did my best not to irritate the girls around me. But I’m not sure how successful I was. It’s hard not to be on edge under that amount of stress, and we were all feeling it.

The telecast started, and for the opening number, some of us danced down the aisles in the audience to get to the stage. I danced down one of them, smiling and waving at the crowd. Once we were all in our places on stage, we reached for the hands of the girls standing beside us. It was time to announce the top fifteen.

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