As Jacke said about herself, "I wasn't like most entertainers who traveled with the U.S.O.
I couldn't sing. I couldn't dance. But I could stand on the stage and draw!" The following excerpt is in Jacke's own words. 

"In 1944, when the war was raging, the doughnut people of America called a contest. They wanted to know who was the most popular U.S.O. hostess in America. They were also bragging on their doughnuts.

I had been a canteen hostess for a year. We called our place at the University of Illinois, 'a home away from home.' Our doughnuts were fresh, the coffee strong, and Glen Miller was on the juke box. The place was jumping!

'Service man, are you listening? Vote for your favorite canteen hostess! Don't stuff the ballot box! We're sending photos to ships at sea. This is a national contest. Get your vote in.'

Weeks passed. An announcement was made over the radio. Jacke Tucker had been named National U.S.O. Queen of 1944! Unbelievable! Completely unbelievable. But it happened.

Photographers arrived and followed me to class. 'Don't polish your shoes! Saddle shoes are supposed to be dirty. College kids wear dirty shoes.' Not me! I polished my shoes. The woman reporter had other ideas and I had mine.

There were two men photographers. One of them said, 'I think it's kinda nice she's got clean shoes. Play that up. Keep in mind she's a winner.'

'May we see the inside of your bedroom?' These three people stayed with me three days, talking and making pictures. I heard the radio say I approved of dunking doughnuts. That was not something I'd say.

One service man gave me a bear hug and said, 'Tell me, little darlin', how many did you eat?' 'What?' 'Doughnuts. How many doughnuts did you eat?' 'Idiot!' I said to myself. 'He's an idiot! I didn't eat a bunch of doughnuts. Ever!'

Cinderella got asked to the ball and didn't have a pretty dress to wear. I'd been awarded a trip to New York City. I stared at my best church clothes. They were not so great. I owned a white crepe dress. I dyed it purple. Gentle Jesus, it looked worse.

The Urbana Chamber of Commerce gave me an open charge at the best store in town. It had a ceiling, rounded off at three hundred dollars! They asked me to lunch, and said I would be representing them on my New York trip. They hoped I would put my best foot forward.

The next day I bought a brown wool coat with a velvet collar. I bought a two-piece herringbone suit, an aqua dress trimmed with coral, and a pretty yellow beret that featured clever cut-away places. Oh, yes, and three pair of nylon hose. The war was on and nylons were hard to come by. Now I was really rich. I had three pair of nylon hose.

It's exciting to hear the wheels roll when you sleep on a train. A lady chaperone was with me at all times. She met me at the train. She wore a long-haired white fur coat. I wore my brown coat. She looked like a celebrity. I looked like a secretary. But we managed. She pushed me to the front and she got behind me every time we were near the cameras.

I gave a war bond pitch at Sheepshead Bay. Rachel, the chaperone, and I were caught in snow that turned to rain. I was drowned. A sailor in the crowd yelled, 'What happened?' I replied, 'I got wet.' My hair was plastered to my skull, my dress a fine example of wet drapery. The house came down with roars of laughter.

Another sailor called, 'Do you dance?' 'No, Well, I can if you'll lead.' More laughter. It would have been neat to have some entertainment skills. All I could do was stand there and drip on the floor.

'Jacke Tucker is with us tonight. Jacke, where are you?' Rachel would whisper, 'Stand up, Jacke. Smile!' I would stand up and give what I hoped was a gracious acknowledgment that I was, indeed, there. It was unbelievable. There I was, standing up in Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe, waving at people I didn't know. It was one o'clock in the morning, everyone was having a good time, and I was so sleepy I could die.

I left for home with a flourish. My suitcase popped open and dumped all my clothes onto the floor of the main lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel. I was in one of those 'I'd like to die' situations when a bell boy in his snappy red suit got on his hands and knees and gave me a hand. 'Geez, miss, you sure got a lot of pretty stuff!' His smile made me feel better. A person shouldn't cry over that kind of a spill. I offered that bell boy a whole dollar, and he wouldn't take it!"

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