Broadway Debut

Although I have never been mentioned in theatrical reviews or columns I did appear on the Broadway stage before a live audience with Wendell Corey, the lead in a real New York play.  Yes, it is the absolute truth! 

It was all due to my having grown up with Dick Van Patten,  the later TV star of Eight Is Enough.  Dick was a really nice kid and he, Jack and I attended Holy Child School in Richmond Hill and whenever his mother wasn't dragging him and his kid sister, Joyce, to auditions or rehearsals, we played in his back yard which had a tree to climb and a mostly-unused greenhouse for running around in. We lost contact after 8th grade for several years. I assume he attended a school of theater-attached kids. 

Around 1946 when I was about 16, on a Saturday, my pal Jimmy Kelly and I had taken the subway to Manhattan to see a movie. After the show, we wandered around the theater district aimlessly. New York was quite safe in those days for teens.  I was wearing the latest in style, a black- and red-checked woolen shirt hanging loose over my regular shirt. It was so de rigeur! 

Behind one of the regular theaters, we were surprised to spot Dick having a smoke by the stagedoor, so we hailed him and we started talking to catch up since we'd last met.  He told us the last act of the play was on and if we were interested, he would show us around the stage after the show. We were thrilled and followed him in backstage so we could watch the end of the final act.

After a few minutes the curtain came down and Dick jumped out onto the stage and I naturally followed him. Jimmy stayed behind.  As I walked behind Dick he lined up with the cast ... and the curtain rose!

I stood there, frozen, for the first company bow!  As the curtain dropped  and the audience clapped, I ran off. Wendell Corey spun his head around and said in a rather loud voice, "Get that son-of-a-bitch out of here!" 

Dick hurried over to usher us rapidly out the stage door.  We didn't even have time to say 'So long' before he was gone back to face the wrath of his fellows.  (I never saw him again in person.)

Jimmy and I got on the subway train to go home, laughing as we ran. All the seats were occupied, so we were standing, hanging on straps.  I looked down, only to see two women sitting there with the Playbill from the play we'd just crashed!  I poked Jimmy to show him, and we both chuckled.  Just then, one of the ladies looked up and said; "Oh, yes.  I just saw you on stage tonight, didn't I?"  My stylish red-and-black-checked shirt obviously made me stand out among the costumed players! 

But, ah, how fleeting is fame and notoriety! Somehow, none of the reviews mentioned my presence on the Broadway stage.

Can you top this?