On March 7th, when I called Julie’s fan mail
secretary, Claire Priest, to find out whether I could attend the taping for the
final show, she told me there would be “no audience” for the last show. After that I called Vivian, who told me she
was sending Julie yellow roses and daisies in a white vase for the last show. She also wrote
Julie a card, saying she was sorry she could not be there. She had spoken to Carol
who told her “no audience.”
The next day, I decided to try again on my own. First, I spoke
to the Unit Manager, John Monarch, who also said, “no audience, talk to Carol.”
I had to wait a long time until Carol, the producer's secretary, picked up. In the background, I could
hear the bustle of changing sets. In response to my question
as to whether I could come to the taping, Carol said, “No. Nobody’s coming. Definitely,
no!”
Then, after a moment, she said,
“Say, who are you anyway?
Are you one of the girls who has been sneaking onto the closed sets?”
Suddenly, it dawned on me. Patty and Kelly had been sneaking
into the studio all this time, while Vivian and I behaved ourselves and sat at
home. And, if there ever was a chance that we might have been let back in to
see a show, eveb, the last show, THEY had ruined that chances. Oh, I was
angry!
“No, I haven’t been to the studio for a month now,” I said.
“Oh well,” responded Carol, “It’s no!”
As I hung up, I was so hurt by her response, I said to myself, “I never wanted to
speak to her again,” and I promised myself I wouldn’t. Men can be charming
about their no’s, but women hurt.
Friday, when I called the studio again, I got the strangest
operator. She said,
“We’re going through. Here we go! Coming in, coming in. Heeerrrre
we come!” as if she was taking me on a space ship or something.
***
I was late to my singing lesson. It was raining, and as I
walked up the hill, a man in a gold Cadillac offered me a ride, so I
accepted.
Mr. Loring asked me how things at the studio were and I told him I was angry because some people snuck into
the show when they weren't supposed to be there, but I was not allowed. My teacher said he would call the ticket
office for me, but that it would do no good.
After that, we worked on “Say a Prayer for Me Tonight.” Then, I went over all my songs, putting them on tape. They sounded better when I
followed my instinct. The songs where I sang as I listened to myself didn't, I discovered, sound as good.
At the end of my lession, Mr. Loring said,
"So is Julie Andrews your favorite
singer?"
“No, Judy Garland is my favorite."
After saying that, Mr. Loring asked if why I
went to see Julie if she wasn’t my favorite singer.
"Because I
like to feel part of the studio, and watching Julie makes me feel like I’m part
of show business."
Of course, even though Julie was not my favorite singer, she
was a close second. I felt bad when Mr. Loring said this, because I knew full-well that I had a tendency protect myself and hide my feelings. Mr. Loring told me I should not live my life in the success of
others. “Someday soon, you will have your own success,” he told me.
After my lesson, I took the bus down to Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly
Hill for The Sound of Music tickets. When I arrived at the theater, however, I found they didn’t have any tickets. The tickets were
at the institute that bought them for the benefit, so I made arrangements to buy the tickets and
was told a man would deliver them to me at my residence that night. Once I went back to International House, I called Vivian and asked her to come over and give me the money for her ticket.
The man with the tickets arrived before Vivian got there. He gave me two
tickets for $6.00 each. He said he was going to leave some posters at my
residence as well, in hopes that others would come to the benefit. He told me that so far few
people had bought tickets. Yes, Julie would definitely be there, he assured me,
as would all the children in the film. There would be red carpets and a band.
He said he was putting us in the balcony. When I protested, he told me, “That’s
where the celebrities will be sitting.”
Vivian arrived and stayed with me for half an hour.
She showed me her autographed cook book and the Christmas card Julie had sent
her. It was an art statue of mother and child on a red background, and was
signed by Julie, Blake and family. Vivian also showed me Julie’s letter to her
which thanked her for the jewelry “gift” and said what a “kind thing” it was
for her to do.
***
The day had arrived. March 9th was the last day of taping for The Julie Andrews Hour. It would be a busy day for me.
I had tennis in the morning and after class all my muscles ached. After class, I had to take care of Julie’s going away present.
I had gone through a pile of treasured, old, art postcards. They were special for their beauty and also for the fact that my grandmother had brought them back from
Italy in 1922. The postcard I chose for Julie was of a small blond boy with
blue eyes looking heavenward.
After school, I went to a store and found the loveliest wood
frame with fine molding and gold leaf. The man in the shop cut a piece of glass
for the frame and mounted the picture for me. It looked so lovely; like a
miniature museum piece, just the way I had hoped it would look. I kept looking at the
framed picture while I was riding the bus. A lady sitting next to me saw it and
said, “That is a lovely present for whoever is getting it.” I didn’t say
anything.
Meanwhile, I heard two ladies behind me on the bus talking. It
seemed they were housekeepers, and had once worked together. The one said,
“How are the Presleys?”
“They’re getting divorced, said the other. “Priscilla has
moved out and Elvis is in the house alone.” Then, they went on to talk about the
Presley’s little girl. How strange to hear this news before it was released,
and to hear it on a bus!
I spoke to Vivian about five times this day. She didn’t know
if she was going to the studio that night or not. Meanwhile, I asked my
roommate, Lynn if she would wrap Julie’s present for me and she did, all the
while, saying,
“You mean I’m really wrapping this for Julie Andrews?”
I had bought a card of purple hyacinths with lilies of the
valley and lilacs on the front. I wrote Julie a single sentence, thanking her
for the priviledge of being in the studio and for being able to hear her sing. I addressed the card:
“To Julie Edwards.”
Then, I called John Monarch once more in hope that somehow
I might be invited in.
‘No go.’ He told me. I must talk to Carol. Julie was
going to have a big party that night and security guards would be everywhere.
I was desperate. How would I get Julie’s present to her? Finally,
I had a brainstorm. Bill, the page I knew, could take the present in for me. I
called the studio again and had a long wait while they called him to the phone.
Strangely, Bill didn’t seem to remember me, but he said he’d meet me at the
front gate and deliver Julie’s present to her.
After that, I called Vivian. She said she’d had a fight with
her mother about coming to Hollywood. Her mother didn’t want to bring her over,
saying she couldn’t get in anyway and she wasn’t going to leave Vivian outside the studio at night or have her get into trouble.
After that, I hurried over to ABC. On arrival, I asked the
guard to call 1468 and ask the page, Bill S., to come down to the gate. The
guard had a list of names and checked each person off as they arrived. While I
was standing there, Mrs. Ian Frazier came through the gate.
One of the pages came up to the gate, wearing a red rosebud
in his button hole. After he told them he was leaving, another page said,
“Julie will miss you.” He laughed.
Just then, Bill and another page came up to the gate
guardhouse. When the other page saw me, he said, “You had a note for Rich
Little before and you were really cold.”
“Oh!” I said, so surprised.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cold. I was just so nervous.”
Then, I walked with the two pages, one on either side of me.
We walked practically all the way to the studio.
“You will be sure Julie gets this won’t you? “ I asked, as I
handed the present to Bill.
“Oh yes, Julie will really appreciate it. You came all this
way. You’re such a devoted fan.”
Thinking of Patty and Kelly, I couldn’t help cringing a
little at the word “fan.” In fact, after my experience at The Julie Andrews
Hour, I never again wanted to be considered a ‘fan’ again. “Admirer” was the word I
preferred.
“Julie’s having a party for everyone,” the pages told me, “A
really big party. About three hundred people will be here, including the wives
and children of the crew.
“
Oh gosh,” I said, which was a very Julie thing to say.
Before the two guys left, I handed them my pen pal, Dennis’,
letter.
“If you want, come to any show at ABC and I’ll give you
front row seats. And if this show is renewed (meaning Julie’s), you’ll be the
first to know,” Bill told me. I guess he didn’t know it was cancelled.
It was over now, and I ran all the way back home, arriving
there in about 15 minutes. When I got back, “Liza with a Z” was on television.
It was a good distraction for me.
***
So, the show was over. I had tried me best, but I had not
been allowed back in the studio. Still, I had my memories.
Coming Next: Reunion – The Sound of Music
If
you think The Julie Andrews Hour
should be released for the public on DVD, along with music releases of Julie
and her guests, please e-mail a polite request: dan.gopal@itv.com
If
you prefer, you may look up ITV in London or Los Angeles , and send a letter there.
To see
a complete list of all blogs with a link back to this site,
Please
visit : http://www.JulieAndrewsHour1972.com
Your slice-of-life postings are so enjoyable. Even when you're disappointed by what's happening, your loyalty to Julie shines through. The moment that most stood out for me, though, was when you heard the cleaning ladies on the bus talk about the Presleys' impending divorce. You were witness to a tiny bit of history then, although you didn't know it!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comments. I've never been one to quickly condem others. Perhaps, in part, this comes from being an actress and trying to put myself in their shoes. Often people put stars on pedastals only to tear them down when things don't go their way. I guess I was brought up to be humble and not expect things that are not mine to expect. It's all a gift - life is!
ReplyDelete