All My Life

by Susan Lucci

  All My Life

  A Memoir

  Susan Lucci

  with Laura Morton

  To Helmut, Liza, and Andreas—who are my world

  Contents

  Introduction: The Streak Is Over

  1. Born to Perform

  2. Marymount College

  3. You’re Too Ethnic-Looking

  4. Hello, New York

  5. The Early Days of All My Children

  6. Being Erica Kane

  7. Blended Lives

  8. From All My Children to All of My Children

  9. Annie Get Your Gun

  Photographic Insert I

  10. Life Is a Cabaret

  11. The Cycle of Life

  12. Celebrations

  13. That Elusive Emmy

  14. The Inner Sanctum

  Photographic Insert II

  15. Dancing with the Stars

  16. Africa

  17. Good-bye, New York

  18. Looking Back to Go Forward

  19. A Fan Letter to My Fans

  My Favorite Things

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  INTRODUCTION

  The Streak Is Over

  “THE STREAK IS OVER!”

  When I heard the very charming Shemar Moore utter those now-famous words onstage, my first thought was that he was announcing some play-off score for the audience. I had been to many charity events over the years where the MC kept the crowd up to speed on important sports scores, so I honestly didn’t realize what was happening. The truth is, after my ninth Emmy loss, I couldn’t hear the name of the person who won anymore. I would become numb as the winner was called out because, well, I had lost so many times. Was it self-protection? I think it must have been. But the way I always knew I didn’t win was when somebody else stood up and made her way to the stage. Everybody in the audience, including me, was applauding and looking at her—not at me.

  The Emmys that year were held at the Paramount Theatre inside Madison Square Garden because Radio City Music Hall, the usual location, was being renovated. Madison Square Garden is one of New York’s great landmarks, so it was exhilarating to attend the awards there as a change from the usual venue. My husband and I walked the red carpet, where we were greeted by the press and many dear, upbeat fans. I was invigorated by their enthusiasm but was doing everything I could to keep myself calm.

  “Susan, who are you wearing tonight?” one entertainment reporter asked.

  I was wearing a beautiful white silk Badgley Mischka gown. It had a tracing of platinum and a sprinkling of crystal beads. I also had gorgeous Fred Leighton chandelier earrings on and was carrying a matching Judith Leiber beaded bag.

  My husband, Helmut, and I made our way into the theater, where we were seated in the front row next to Rosie O’Donnell, who was to my left. I had enjoyed appearing on Rosie’s show a few times. She was always very warm and gracious, though I didn’t know her that well. We greeted each other and then she leaned over to me and said, “Susan, when you go up onstage tonight to claim your Emmy, why don’t you give me your evening bag. Otherwise, when they announce your name, you’ll be very excited, you’ll stand up, and you’ll step all over that gorgeous bag and that won’t look pretty on TV.”

  “Oh, thank you, Rosie,” I said. “That is so nice of you, but history has taught me that I am probably not going up there tonight. I am a hopeful person, but past shows have proved that it’s likely I won’t win.” Then we both nervously laughed at the obvious.

  Even after Shemar shouted, “SUSAN LUCCI!” I remained seated. I didn’t hear him call my name.

  The only way I knew I had won was that Rosie reached over and grabbed my bag. It finally clicked that Shemar was referring to me when he said, “The streak is over.” Of course, I was in total shock. This was the first time my name was mentioned after the envelope had been opened. I could barely muster up the strength to stand on my very wobbly legs or to hug Helmut, who had to literally pick me up by my elbow.

  I leaned into Helmut and whispered, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said as he gallantly escorted me to the stairs leading to the stage.

  I slowly walked up each step trying to remember what I thought I might say, you know, just in case. I rarely prepared an acceptance speech—it seemed unnecessary after nineteen nominations and eighteen losses. I was so weak in the knees as I walked toward the podium, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to stand.

  Okay. I will admit that the night before the awards ceremony, for the first time in quite a while, I began to think there was a possibility that maybe this would be my year. The media certainly held out great hope. Plus, it had been a good year for the show. My story line was very strong. It primarily revolved around Erica’s intervention with a then-eleven-year-old Bianca, my daughter on All My Children, who was struggling with an eating disorder. The scenes were wonderfully written and so many people were saying that they thought the performances and the writing were deserving. Yet I had heard that sentiment many times in the past, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. But if, for some reason, it was meant to be, I didn’t want the moment to go by without thanking the people who mattered most. So, just before falling asleep the night before, I mentally created my list, you know, on the off chance.

  By the time I reached the center of the stage, I finally had the courage to turn around and face the audience for the very first time. Everyone in the room was on their feet, cheering. I saw all of my peers in the industry crying and rejoicing in this moment with me. It felt as if it were a collective win for all of us. I watched in awe as Rosie O’Donnell, Marcy Walker, Leeza Gibbons, Gayle King, Kelly Ripa, Mark Consuelos, Peter Bergman, and my wonderful costar David Canary, and all of the tremendously talented women who were also nominated that night helped me soak in that unforgettable moment. I was so taken aback by their generosity, love, and support.

  The standing ovation went on for what felt like forever, and in TV terms I suppose it was—it lasted four very long minutes. Dick Clark later told me it was some kind of award-show record. I was especially grateful that he, as one of the executive producers, had allowed that beautiful, wonderful applause to continue on because in that time, I was able to get over my cream-cheese legs, catch my breath, gain a little bit of my composure, and miraculously remember the thoughts I had collected for this very moment while in bed the night before.

  “Thank you.

  “Thank you very much.

  “I can’t believe it.

  “You are so kind.” I tried to start speaking even as I struggled to fight back my tears of joy, but the audience kept cheering. I took a step away from the microphone and looked stage right, where I caught a glimpse of Oprah Winfrey, who was standing in the wings jumping up and down, clapping and pumping her fists in the air.

  “Oh, Oprah!” I said in total awe. I simply couldn’t believe she was cheering for me.

  Me!

  I clutched my precious golden-winged statue against my chest like I was holding a newborn baby and I began to speak.

  “I truly never believed that this would happen. First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you in this room. This is a roomful of such talented, hardworking people. And the fact that you have thought that my work was worthy of notice…

  “NINETEEN times…” (this got a good laugh)

  “It is something that I will treasure always.

  “I thank God for the many, many blessings in my life. For parents that encouraged me to dream my dreams and who have been sitting in every audience of my lifetime including tonight.

  “For my great teachers: Wynn Handman, the late Harold Clurman, Ron
Weyand, and Inez Norman Spiers, who were so good at teaching and helped me to grow.

  “Agnes Nixon: you changed the face of the medium we work in. I am so grateful to have been placed in your hands. Thank you so much for creating the part of Erica Kane and for allowing me to be part of your writing full of so much humanity and passions and vision.

  “I have so many people to thank and they’re telling me to wrap it up.”

  The audience let out a loud “NO!” when I said that. I looked down and saw the beautiful Kelly Ripa, whom I worked with for many years on All My Children, shaking her head and saying, “Don’t leave. Let her speak!” She was so adorable.

  I continued without regard for the clock.

  “I want to thank Joan D’Incecco, the legendary casting director at All My Children who saw me for more than just an ethnic type and saw that I could play Erica Kane and for bringing me to Agnes’s attention.

  “To the incredible acting company at All My Children with whom I have the privilege to play these scenes every day. You inspire me. If I’m halfway good it is because I am afraid I won’t be as good as you!”

  It was right about this time that the director began flashing all sorts of lights, signaling to me that I HAD to wrap things up. But I couldn’t leave the stage without thanking the most important people of all.

  “To my children: to Liza and Andreas. I wasn’t meant to get this award before tonight because if I had I wouldn’t have that collection of poems and letters and drawings and balloons and chocolate cakes you made all this time to make me feel better.

  “To my husband: Helmut Huber, who has been with me EVERY…STEP…OF THE WAY.

  “And to the fans: I was only supposed to be on every other Tuesday” (the audience laughed again) “but thanks to you, I am here and I promise I will try my best never to let you down. I’m going back to that studio on Monday and am going to play Erica Kane for all she is worth! Thank you so very much!”

  I could hardly wait to get backstage to make three urgent phone calls. I had already told the producers of the show that if by some miracle I won that night, I would have to step aside before going to the pressroom so I could call my children. I knew they must have already heard the good news, yet I really wanted to hear their voices.

  My first call was to my daughter, Liza, who was watching the show from her home in Los Angeles, having just started her own career on Passions. The Emmys show hadn’t aired on the West Coast yet, so she hadn’t heard the good news. When I told her I had won, she was beyond thrilled. Liza has been with me throughout my entire Emmy journey, ever since she was four years old. She had experienced all nineteen nominations, but up until that night, had never experienced what it felt like for me to win. She had only endured the many losses.

  One year I came home to find that Liza had made letters from construction paper and had placed a word on every step of the winding staircase that leads up to my bedroom. The message read, “We love you, Mommy. You are the best actress in the whole wide world!” When I got to my room, I was greeted with a bouquet of balloons that she had tied to the bedpost. Liza would enlist her brother Andreas’s help in any way that he could participate. He is five years younger than Liza, so he generally helped with decorating the many cakes, brownies, and other goodies they’d bake together so I would have a treat waiting for me when I got home. With all of the losses over the years, thanks to my children, there really were so many wins.

  Win or lose, I always went back to work and continued to do my best to play this incredible character, Erica Kane—a role I was lucky enough to have been given, and the real reason why I’ve always persevered in the face of defeat, why I’ve pushed on time and time again.

  I know it sounds clichéd, but the nominations alone really meant a lot to me. Whether or not I won, I never felt like I ever had anything to truly lose. Plus, it’s not like the Emmy was mine to lose, because I had never taken the trophy home—at least not until 1999. From my perspective, I wasn’t relinquishing some title all of those years because the title hadn’t been mine in the first place.

  After so many nominations, I realized that I had to stop getting myself whipped into a frenzy every year around award season. It was easy to get caught up in the thunderous support I received from the press and the fans of All My Children, who were always so hopeful for me. Their never-ending enthusiasm was very moving. What was really amazing to me was that there were so many people who were determined that I get that award. And yet I was afraid that somehow, all of this attention felt unfair to those who did win each year. They were all talented, hardworking people who deserved the honor in every way. I certainly didn’t want to take anything away from their achievements.

  I’d heard rumblings over the years that some people thought I should be happy for not winning because an actress couldn’t pay for the type of publicity I was receiving. There were many who thought I might even be in on it, like my continuous losing was somehow fixed. Naturally, that was absurd, but it didn’t stop people from talking. I was astounded at these suggestions, because God only knows, I wanted to win.

  I really wanted to win.

  After Liza and I spoke briefly backstage, I immediately called my son, Andreas, who was watching with friends in New York. Lastly, I telephoned my mother, who was in Palm Beach and who is my biggest cheerleader. I just had to share my excitement with them all. By this time, my husband had made his way backstage. I am always comforted when Helmut is standing by my side. After I finished my calls, Helmut and I continued on to the pressroom to face the media and to do my much-anticipated interview.

  As I walked through the door, the press and media backstage were all cheering for me. This was the hardened press corps who were all standing and applauding when I walked through the door. It was quite amazing—a completely joyous occasion. There was a lot of warmth and love expressed in my direction. Looking back, the whole experience was unbelievable. It was one of those rare occasions in life that I call my “Cinderella” moments. Those are the times where you have to pinch yourself because you cannot believe what you are experiencing is really happening.

  When we finished with the media, Helmut pulled me aside. He had a very serious look on his face. Helmut has managed my career for many years, so I can usually tell what he is about to say, but this time I wasn’t sure. I was hoping and praying that there wasn’t some kind of mix-up—that they had made a mistake and called out the wrong name.

  “I have a confession to make,” Helmut said. “I made an agreement with People magazine that if you won, they could come to our house early tomorrow morning to do a photo shoot for the cover. I didn’t want to tell you about this until I knew you had won.” Helmut looked as relieved to share this news with me as I was to hear it, even though it meant that we could only stay at the Emmy after-party for a short while. We gave and received hugs and kisses from so many well-wishers and then made the one-hour drive back to our home in Garden City, a suburb of Long Island, New York. Although I had wanted to open a bottle of champagne or dig into a guilty rich chocolate dessert to celebrate, we went right to bed. Of course, I strategically placed my Emmy on our dresser, where I could see it from across the room whenever I opened my eyes, which I did from time to time, just to make sure this wasn’t all some crazy dream.

  CHAPTER 1

  Born to Perform

  Over the course of the past fifteen years or so, different publishers and agents have reached out to me asking if I would be interested in writing a book. Each letter laid out the specific reasons why they believed people wanted to hear whatever it was I had to say. While I was flattered by their kind words, writing a memoir wasn’t something I ever thought was in me. And, to be very honest, I didn’t have the time it takes to sit down and write one. As a working actress, wife, mother, new grandmother, and a businesswoman, I live with a very full schedule. Most of the time I feel like I’ve been shot out of a cannon. I spend a great many days reading and memorizing scripts, creating the nuances that bring th
e dialogue and Erica Kane to life, and then I fill it all up with acting. On top of that, I’m attending design meetings for my products on HSN, I’m taking voice lessons, doing interviews, talk-show appearances, and trying to squeeze in my morning workouts somewhere between four and five in the morning! When I am not working, I am traveling for work or spending time with my family. I am always moving forward, so I wasn’t sure that there would ever be a good time…or any time to look back. Those moments of reflection or “savoring the moment” have been few and far between for me.

  There were many times when my makeup artist Robin Ostrow and my hairstylist Joyce Corollo, from the New York team at All My Children, also encouraged me to write a book, because people who knew we worked together always asked them questions about me. Robin and Joyce were constantly coming to me with different ideas about what I should write. They talked about fashion, health, beauty, and inspirational stories from my life. They were very encouraging, but at the time I still wasn’t completely convinced that writing a book was the right thing for me.

  In late 2009, I agreed to do a charity event for Francesca James, one of the legendary actresses of All My Children. She played the dual role of Kitty and Kelly. She auctioned off a handwritten letter from me answering whatever questions the winning fan wanted to ask. When I received the questions, I wanted to take the time to sit down and thoughtfully answer them. At first, it was just one of many tasks I had to do that day—something else on my already piled-high and overflowing plate. Much to my surprise, though, answering the questions was really fun and intriguing despite the tremendous time constraints. One of the questions this person asked was “What are some of your favorite things to do when you are not playing Erica Kane?” I love those types of questions because they allow me to be spontaneous in my response. I’ve always liked flying by the seat of my pants. Answering that letter opened me up, maybe for the first time ever, as I suddenly found myself thinking about the process of writing and what it would really take to someday author a book.