Princess Grace: 'She's Still Very Much Here'

I doubt Princess Grace ever rode the public bus 12 miles from Nice to Monte Carlo along the Basse Corniche as I did today. I was en route to interview the curator of an international-scale exposition on her life that will be one of the summer's major events in Monaco: "The Grace Kelly Years." It opens July 12.

But the paradox of Kelly's legendary charisma, especially when you live in or near the tiny principality, is that she wasn't just a fairytale princess from Hollywood. She was accessible. I can picture her taking this bus and getting off at the stop that leads up to the palace.

Around here, Princess Grace is, and was, the American expatriate everyone loved. Twenty five years after her death, she's still the one-woman antidote to anti-Americanism abroad.

I felt her influence today at the Zebra Square restaurant at the top of Grimaldi Forum -- but probably not the way the exhibit's distinguished curator, Frederic Mitterrand, the nephew of the former French president, had planned.

Mitterrand, who designed the 20-room, multi-media, interactive exhibit, held court at a table with breathtaking views of the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean.

But he commanded such respect that a small group of French reporters from Le Figaro and other publications never took their eyes off him. Nor did they interrupt him much or ask too many prying questions.

All of which, I thought, would try my patience.

My preference is to have my subject all to myself, fire questions at him or her, and hope no reasonable inquiry is off-limits.

But you can't do that with the French. They're into dignity, not marketing and self-promotion. Which means sometimes they'll just get up and leave if they don't like a question.

So I acted humble, didn't interrupt, and refrained from controversial questions.

And voila, the interview unfolded at its own leisurely pace. Mitterrand turned out to be a fascinating and lovely man, clearly touched by the year he spent delving through hundreds of personal items belonging to Grace, most of which have never been seen by the public.

"She is still very much present here," he said. "Her bond with her children was so strong, it is still there. She had an incredible charm and it lives on."

Anecdotes, on and off the record, flew. I heard stories I might not have -- had I asked all MY questions.

Mitterrand was struck, especially, he said, by the bond between mother and son. He mentioned it several times.

But the best moment came when one of the French reporters asked a question that involved her views about Americans, how Americans view Princess Grace and how that might change if they see the exposition.

Mitterrand, it turns out, really likes Americans. Not only that, he defends them. It is not often that I hear a French person defend Americans in my presence.

"There are many kinds of Americans," Mitterrand told the reporter. "So not every American has the same ideas."

If only Mitterrand could have been on speakerphone to Europe and the rest of the world at that moment.

Among the 1,500 items that will be shown this summer are 15 letters Princess Grace wrote to friends. They were written in English and French, which she had to learn after marrying Prince Rainier.

"How was her French?" I asked.

Mitterrand looked pensive for a moment and smiled.

"Bien," he said, meaning "good."

"Good, but not perfect?" I asked.

"Bien," Mitterrand repeated.

The reporter from Le Figaro looked at me.

"Like you, " she said, tartly.

I'm sure she meant well. In any case, it didn't matter.

For one day, at least, I was an American abroad, basking in the perpetual sunshine that still follows Grace Kelly.