All My Life

by Susan Lucci

  The race crosses two mountain ranges, follows the Yukon River, and leads the sleds over the frozen waters of Norton Sound. This was definitely one of those once-in-a-lifetime trips you have to pinch yourself to believe you are actually going to be a part of. Marylou always put together a great guest list and we were excited when we were told that Joan Rivers would be joining us.

  We flew to Anchorage, Alaska, on Marylou and John’s private plane, stopping in North Dakota to refuel. Joan told us about her hilarious adventures trying to get outfitted for this trip in Manhattan. It turns out Chanel doesn’t make gear for the conditions we were headed to. Still, she brought along enough luggage with her, leading us to believe that she was carrying everything with her but the kitchen sink. We had so much fun on the flight and even more when we got to Alaska. I will never forget our approach into Anchorage. It was the most gorgeous and sunny day. The sky was the clearest blue without a single cloud in sight. It looked like all of the Alps I had seen in Europe had been carefully placed in one spectacular location. The landscape was so vast and the mountains were incredibly majestic. They seemed to go on forever. The natural beauty was nothing short of breathtaking.

  Thankfully, John and Marylou know Alaska very well, so they were able to point us in the right direction of the best sights. I love to travel and see things through the eyes of someone who knows a place well. The only problem we had was that Joan was having a hard time walking on the icy streets of Anchorage in the boots she had brought. She was slipping and sliding all around. Afraid she might fall and really hurt herself, she immediately went shopping for a new pair. Helmut and I happened upon Joan while she was shopping. Having grown up in the Austrian Alps, Helmut sat down and helped her get some new boots that he knew wouldn’t slip. After that, she was good to go!

  Although Marylou has never been the musher of a dogsled team, she has been an avid sponsor and she has followed along the trail of the Iditarod several times before this trip. Believe me, to “follow along” is no easy feat! She is full of salty and fantastic stories about her experiences, which she shared as we enjoyed a wonderful dinner together the night we arrived. Fortunately, she is friends with Martin Buser, one of the most experienced and winning dogsled team leaders in the history of the race. We got to go to Martin’s home, where he raises his dogs and trains his teams. We had the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time with him and his wife, Kathy, as well as experience what life is like for his dogs. We saw where each dog lives in its own separate little house. Those dogs who have some type of relationship are kept facing each other so they can see each other. I expected the dogs to look like the big fluffy husky dogs I used to watch on Sergeant Preston of the Yukon when I was a little girl. But Martin asked, “Have you ever seen a marathon runner? These dogs are built like them.” They’re great athletes, and though they are leaner than I thought they’d be, they eat—a lot! When you’re in their company, you can easily see that these dogs love to run. They live to race. They get excited, jump, and are ready to go, go, go.

  The musher must dress in special clothes that are designed for the environment he will live in over the course of the nine-to twelve-day race. Mushers wear a very thin underlayer and a specially designed suit that is not bulky, but very aerodynamic and warm. The best mushers have a great rapport with their dogs and will often sleep with them during their breaks. There are mandated breaks along the race, which range from twelve to twenty-four hours. The dogs have a special chip inside of them so they can be tracked. If one of the dogs dies during the race, the team is automatically disqualified.

  The night before the start of the race, we attended the Musher’s Ball. It was so much fun. I was surprised to learn that there were several female mushers participating in the race. One of them came up to me at the party and said, “Wait until you get on the sled and pull out of the city limits. All you will hear is the sound of the dogs’ paws on the snow.” I thought that sounded fantastic. I could hardly wait.

  The next morning, the sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue. It was very cold—bone-chilling cold. You couldn’t recognize any of us that day because we were so bundled up. However, Marylou somehow managed to look glamorous even in those freezing cold conditions. I was all set to ride along with one of the mushers for the first leg of the race, which was eleven miles long. The musher I traveled with gave me a comfortable pillow to sit on because these are very bare-bones sleds. They want to keep things as aerodynamic as they can. He also gave me a stuffed animal husky to hold on to for good luck. The musher stands on the back of the sled and the team of dogs pulls everyone from the front. The strongest dogs are the two kept closest to the sled because they will bear the brunt of the initial pull. The smartest dogs are the lead dogs. The middle dogs are the workers. All the dogs wear tiny little felt booties on their paws not only to protect their feet, but to also help them grip the ice. Volunteers from the area make thousands of pairs of booties for the dogs each year for this incredibly demanding race.

  My Iditarod experience lasted a total of forty-five minutes. Sadly, it went by in a flash. I would have stayed on the sled much longer because it was so exciting and fun that I actually forgot about how cold it was. There were people all along the route cheering us on as we passed. It’s a local tradition to bake muffins and throw them at your favorite musher. The mushers grab at the flying muffins and place them on their sled to eat later. I got off the sled when we finished that first leg. The teams restart the race the following day. My musher continued on to the finish line, coming in a very respectable fourth place. Having the opportunity to participate in the Iditarod, even just a little, was an experience I loved and will never forget. I hope to return to Alaska someday to explore the beautiful terrain and breathtaking landscape.

  I certainly have had some extraordinary opportunities to travel as a result of my career. When I was asked to play Hillary Taylor, a villainess in the last season of the television show Dallas, I had no idea we’d be filming my scenes outside of Los Angeles. My character was somebody who came from an oil family in Texas. I was delighted to be working with Patrick Duffy—unfortunately, I was the character who was going to shoot his wife.

  When the producers of Dallas said they wanted to set part of the last season of the show in Paris, I said a very quick yes. We went to Paris at the end of July and stayed into early August. For the most part, the city was empty, as most Parisians go away during August. It was very hot, but because we were shooting for the new season, which started in September, the script called for us to be wearing heavy fall clothes. As a woman, that meant a black cocktail dress, but poor Patrick’s costume was a tweed jacket and cowboy boots. What little air-conditioning we had was turned off because it was making too much noise during filming.

  I was given a half day off, so I did what any self-respecting American girl would do—I went shopping at Chanel. This was the first time I was ever in a Chanel boutique. When I got to the store, the staff told me it was a good time to be there, as the Parisian women were gone and they had just received their fall shipment. I had the pick of the best in the store. I tried on many different dresses and suits and finally settled on a perfect rich dark red tweed skirt and jacket that I still have to this very day.

  At one point, a salesgirl was showing me a charmeuse blouse to go under the suit. I was agonizing over whether or not to buy it because I had never spent so much money on one suit before, especially without my husband being there to see it first. I asked the girl if she could hold my items until my husband could come back with me later that day. She understood and put everything aside. As she was moving away from the hold rack, I saw that Sophia Loren was sitting in a chair right behind her. It was so hot that I almost didn’t even go to Chanel that day—now, that’s really hot! When I saw this screen legend, my idol and a goddess of a woman, sitting right there in front of me, I almost fainted—not from the heat, but from her presence.

  I still remember that she was wearing a sky-blue silk dress, wit
h elbow-length sleeves and a low neck. Her legs were crossed and seemed to go on for days. She had the creamiest olive skin. She was more beautiful in person than I could have ever imagined. Sometimes when you see a celebrity in person, they can be disappointing. She was not. She was so much more than I ever expected. She was with a gentleman I didn’t recognize. I don’t know who they were to each other, but certainly Sophia Loren was not walking around Paris by herself. I looked at her and I could not help myself, I just stared until she felt my gaze. When she looked up, I simply smiled. She smiled back. I don’t think she recognized me. I merely think she was being warm and gracious. I didn’t say a word to her. I would not invade her privacy. I was just thrilled to see her. For a moment, time stood still. When I told Helmut that I saw Sophia Loren at Chanel, he quickly agreed to go back to the store with me. Of course, she was already gone. Nonetheless, he loved the outfit and bought me my first Chanel suit. That was a very good day.

  Although Helmut and I have had incredible opportunities to travel to places like Alaska and Paris at times when our children didn’t come along, they have also had some wonderful experiences traveling with us. I always thought it was very important for them to know their father’s family and history, so they’ve been all over Europe, especially Austria. We also spent a lot of time in Vermont and skiing out west in Colorado together. I looked forward to our family vacations because they were always filled with great adventure and, occasionally, a few surprises. Still, no matter how many locations the kids have been to over the years, they’ve never lost that sense of wonder or desire to explore and experience new places, people, and things.

  When the children were very young, Robin Leach asked me to do the first episode of his new show, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. We really didn’t know what the show was all about, but I agreed to do it anyway. When it came time to watch that episode, the kids, Helmut, and I all gathered in our bedroom and turned on the television. Kenny Rogers was the first celebrity being featured. At the time he lived in a very large home with many, many acres of land and kept cattle and horses. The next celebrity profiled was equally rich and fabulous. Then along came my profile. I do not live on a million acres with horses and cattle. I knew the kids were wondering why I was even on the show, so I quickly turned to them and said, “They’re Rich and we’re Famous.”

  The next time I did the show, Robin invited me to go to Europe and he said we could bring the kids along. We went to Lyon, in the south of France, which is a culinary paradise. It’s so good that people helicopter in from Paris as well as Switzerland and Scandinavia just to eat lunch. We got to go to some really fabulous restaurants, such as Paul Bocuse, during that trip courtesy of Robin and his show. Even though the kids had to be seated at a separate table while we filmed, I could hear the waiters being very deferential, charming, and jolly with them.

  Thankfully, our children grew up really liking to eat. Since they had traveled a lot and maybe because I made their food for them when they were babies, they developed a taste for fresh ingredients and unprocessed food. Plus, it didn’t hurt that their father is a master chef, so they ate well, have always been adventurous eaters, and learned to enjoy the experiences that surround a great meal. When we finished in Lyon, we took the bullet train from Lyon to Paris. The train had a fine dining car with white-clothed tables and full waiter service. Zooming to Paris with first-class dining all the way was an experience none of us has ever forgotten.

  * * *

  Helmut and I were visiting friends on their boat in Porto Cervo, Sardinia, when we all decided to take a swim in the emerald waters of the Mediterranean. We thought we’d swim the short distance to the shore so we could have lunch at a great little restaurant high up on the rocks that was only accessible by boat. When I dove into the water, I was surprised by how chilly it was. Helmut came up behind me and threw me into the air. When I landed in the water, my engagement ring slipped off my finger and slowly sank to the bottom of the sea. I saw it fall off, but the sand beneath us was so soft, it got lost as soon as it hit bottom. I dove underwater several times to see if I could somehow find it, but I kept coming up empty-handed. It was gone. I felt so bad about it that the captain of the boat continued to search for an additional hour and a half. Unfortunately, he didn’t find it either. I can only hope that a young Italian boy in love will walk down the beach one day and come upon my ring and give it to the girl he wants to marry.

  * * *

  People often ask me what my secret is to maintaining a long-term relationship. After all, Helmut and I have been together for many years. In today’s world, especially in Hollywood, I realize that we are an anomaly. Here’s what I know for sure…there are no formulas. Although our marriage has been as close to a real-life fairy tale as possible, I will admit that it has not all been perfect—close, for sure, but perfect? Well, is there really such a thing? Although we’ve had some moments, we have thankfully never really had anything big come between us. Most of our arguments have stemmed either from my own sleep deprivation and the pressure I feel when I’m running on a very full schedule, or from miscommunication. (I would hate to have to argue in German! I’d never win.)

  I’ve learned to put things in their proper place over the years, which has helped me not take my own frustrations out on my husband, who has always been my biggest ally in life. When you deal with a highly scheduled, highly demanding life by choice, you invite a lot of stress into your life. I am one of the lucky few in this world who gets to do the work I love. I know how blessed I am. As an actress, I am also aware that someday this will all go away, so when opportunity knocks I feel as if I have to answer with a resounding yes while the acting world still wants me. Sometimes all of those yesses come at once. Until you get the hang of doing that great balancing act in life, it can be really daunting, especially when you have young children. That was when I felt I was being split into too many pieces. I still feel that way from time to time, but I’ve gotten better at putting limits on how much I will take on and I have also learned to stop and breathe. Even though my children are grown, I still want to be accessible to them if they need me. I want to be in their lives. And I want my husband to know that he is a priority, too.

  As my father used to tell me, “Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses, Susan.” For Helmut and me, it’s important to maintain romance and intimacy. There are plenty of days when we’ve got the house to ourselves and no place to be, and we’ll make the best use of that time. We’ll turn off the phones and enjoy each other’s company. An absolute perfect day with my husband depends on what time of year it is and where we are. We love to be on a cable car heading to ski the mountains in Europe. We will have lunch somewhere at the top of the mountain, where we will enjoy a great meal while feeling the warm sun on our faces. The most important thing is that we are together.

  I also love to drive with Helmut. He is a great driver—fast but safe. I really adore taking long drives with him. I’ve spent a lot of my life looking at my husband’s profile from the passenger seat of our car. He has the best dimples, the sexiest slant to his eyes, and so much charm in his face. We can talk for hours, with no interruptions, in complete privacy, which is a total luxury. It’s a rare but wonderful occurrence to find several hours when we’re completely alone. One of our favorite spots is the Lake Placid Lodge in the Adirondacks. It’s so important to take some time together in your relationship. Helmut once told me early in our marriage that someday we’d have kids and then someday we’d be alone together again. I didn’t understand what he meant until our kids left home and it was just the two of us once more. We make a point of carving out time together so we can stay connected as a couple and let go of all the things that encumber our lives.

  One true sign of a good marriage is if your husband willingly chooses to save your life—not once, but twice.

  The first time Helmut saved my life was during a ski trip in France. We were skiing in Lac Tignes, near Val d’Isère, in the Haute-Savoie region of France. I
t was just the two of us. We ventured out onto the slopes on the first day we were there. Helmut said he was going to check out the mountain to determine where he thought I could ski because he and I definitely do not ski at the same level. Helmut grew up skiing in Austria. His mother’s house was at the top of a mountain in Innsbruck. He skied down that mountain every day to go to school. Needless to say, Helmut is a spectacular skier, shushing the terrain like it’s second nature. My husband skis like he drives—fast and smooth. I, on the other hand, grew up on the flats of Long Island, so I don’t have that second-nature thing. I am an okay skier, but nowhere near Helmut’s level of expertise.

  For whatever reason, I told Helmut I wanted to go with him that morning. He was reluctant at first, but I can be very persuasive. He finally gave in and said I could come along. That’s when we got into trouble. I should have listened to him. I should have let him check out the mountain first, but I didn’t.

  Tignes is a very large mountain. The area it’s in is vast and very challenging. Most of the ski terrain is above the tree line. We took a lift to the top of the mountain, where I suddenly found myself in the thick of all “expert only” runs. I was slightly panicked until Helmut suggested we take a short ride on the poma lift to go even higher because he thought there might be an easier way down.

  A poma lift is essentially a disk that you slip between your legs and then lean on as it carries you up what is usually very steep terrain in Europe. These particular poma lifts were on such a tight spring that you had to be a linebacker in the NFL to pull down fast enough to get it through your legs. And if that wasn’t challenging enough, you then had to pull hard and with just the right amount of pressure to make sure the disk didn’t give in and cause you to fall. It took me about six tries before I got the hang of it. As I slowly made my way up the mountain, my skis kept getting caught in ruts that were carved by other people who had gone before me. The path was very uneven, which meant I felt as if I had no control over my skis or the ride up. I was afraid I would fall off at any given moment. And if you’re scared, your body gets stiff, and of course, you will fall. When we were almost to the very top, I lost my footing and my poma lift. I was in the middle of no-man’s-land at ten thousand feet above sea level. Thankfully, Helmut was right behind me. He let go of his poma lift in order to stay with me. Note: If you should ever find yourself in this situation and your husband keeps on going up the mountain, you may want to rethink your relationship!