All My Life

by Susan Lucci

  Education is not mandatory in the region. But the lucky children who get to attend school are taught to respect their teachers from a very early age. I learned that it only takes thirty-three dollars a year to send one child to school there. That money covers their education, uniform, supplies, a hot meal, and a pair of shoes. The schools are full of children from ages three to twelve. The schoolrooms aren’t fancy. In fact, the ones we saw all had dirt floors. The teachers are assigned one age group that they teach every subject to. Some of the children share a single pair of shoes with their brothers and sisters. At lunchtime, there was no pushing or shoving. The children stood in line in a very orderly fashion and patiently waited for their meal, which was primarily a bowl of beans and corn. For some, this was the only meal they would eat all day.

  When we arrived at the school, the children ran to greet us with a song. They were so full of energy. It warmed my heart to listen to their voices. Even though they have virtually nothing, they sang with complete joy. Despite the things they lack, you can see how bright their eyes are. Their smiles are big and full. Their hope is far from gone. I can’t help but wonder where such resilience comes from.

  When we visited the first school, I brought the children four brightly colored rubber balls, the size of soccer balls, to play with during recess. It was an easy gesture that was received with so much appreciation that the children lifted me up on their shoulders and carried me around like I was Pelé after a winning game. Earlier I had been asked to talk to the eleven-year-old children. Middle-school children in our country are often challenging to talk to, so I worried about whether these children would embrace my presence and open up to me or if they’d be shy. I wasn’t sure what I would discover, but I was absolutely willing to find out. I asked the children if they thought about what they wanted to be when they grew up.

  “I want to be a pilot,” said a young fresh-faced girl.

  “I want to be a doctor,” another said.

  The children were delightful and so full of hopes and dreams. There wasn’t the attitude some kids their age tend to have elsewhere in the world. I asked if any of them liked to sing, dance, and perform because that’s what I liked to do a whole lot more than math or science! They laughed at my attempt at humor and then asked me to teach them an American song. Someone suggested I teach them “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” I sang a few bars and they learned it right away. Singing with those children was an unforgettable experience.

  A friend of mine who had been to Africa several times suggested that I bring lollipops to give to the children we would meet along the way. It was something so simple yet so meaningful. I came across a beautiful little girl standing in a doorway, wearing the prettiest little cotton dress. Her mother must have found a way to press it because it didn’t have a single wrinkle. When I handed her the lollipop, I could tell by the curious look in her eyes that she’d never seen one before. She didn’t even know that she should remove the paper covering. So I unwrapped the lollipop and showed her how to eat it. It didn’t take long for this precious child to understand that lollipops are yummy. As she stood in front of me eating her treat, her brother came over to see what we were doing. And then another little child showed up. Before I knew it, there were several more kids who circled around us, each wanting a lollipop of their own. Believe me, I was only too happy to grant them that simple wish.

  Seeing the joy in these children’s faces was one of the most fulfilling moments of my life. The producers of All My Children had written a trip to Africa into the script in the hope that while I was there I could shoot a scene for the show. Erica was supposed to speak directly into the camera. I was positioned near a trough, with streams of water running by me. I was standing on the dirt next to the water when I noticed a little boy walking by. He stopped to watch what we were doing. I motioned with my hand for him to come over to where I was standing. He came a little closer but still kept a good distance away. I could see that he was intrigued by the camera and wanted to be included, so I motioned for him to come even closer until he was finally standing right next to me. I started to do the scene with him in the shot. All of a sudden there were a few other children standing off to the side and across the stream. They also kept their distance until I motioned for them to come over, too. The kids leaped over the stream, and before I knew it, there were thirty children in the scene. The producer and I decided this was a much better and more interesting shot than Erica speaking one-on-one to the camera.

  When I look back on this experience, the overwhelming thing that has stuck with me is the openness and warmth of the children I met while touring Africa. They’re not bitter about their circumstances because they don’t know any other way of life. Their eyes aren’t dead, the way that one might expect those of the poor and hungry to be; they’re full of love, life, and light. They are bright and smiling all of the time. I keep a framed photo of Bernard in my dressing room so I can be reminded of him each day when I go to work. His smiling face brings a smile to mine. I look forward to a time when our eyes will someday meet again.

  CHAPTER 17

  Good-bye, New York

  In January 2010, All My Children made an epic company move from our studios in New York City, where we had resided for forty glorious years, to our new home in Glendale, California. The decision to move the show was based on many factors, most of which were financial. Yes, even daytime television has had to make some adjustments in these challenging economic times.

  I received the news shortly before a general announcement was made on the set. I was called in to the executive producer’s office for a brief meeting. I could see Agnes Nixon through an open door, but I couldn’t hear a word of what was being said. I had no idea what was happening or why, but it didn’t feel like it was something good. Although I wasn’t necessarily worried that the show might be canceled, I really wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in for my meeting.

  All of the ABC network daytime executives were present, and each was dressed in very formal business attire. They basically gave me the news straight.

  “We are moving the show to Los Angeles,” Brian Frons, the head of ABC daytime, said.

  They proceeded to lay out their reasons, all of which seemed logical and appropriate. When they shared this information, I automatically assumed that everyone associated with the show would be asked to make the move, meaning actors, executives, and crew. We were a family. I couldn’t imagine doing our show without the entire team. In fact, the thought that they planned for only some of us to go never even entered my mind. The crews in New York were all so caring, hardworking, and considerate. It seemed impossible to me that we would make a company move without them. Sadly, the executives told me we would be getting an entirely new crew in Los Angeles. I felt terrible for all of the people I worked with—people I considered to be extended family. It didn’t feel right.

  I was very attached to many of the dedicated and amazingly talented members of our crew, especially my beloved hairstylist, Joyce Corollo, and makeup artist, Robin Ostrow. Joyce kept a quote up on the bulletin board in the hair and makeup room that read When work is the focus of your life, your life is out of focus. I liked that saying a lot. It was a daily reminder not to put all of your effort and energy into that one area of your life or everything else would end up out of balance.

  Our New York crew was so committed and good at what they do—and they were always so wonderful to me. Walter, a former Marine and the type of guy who wears shorts in the dead of winter, was always so considerate and helpful. He and the rest of the crew always did their best to make me feel comfortable, especially when scenes required me to be in a more intimate setting. Whenever the script called for Erica to climb into a big bubble bath, for instance, our crew made sure that the water temperature was just right and that there were enough bubbles to cover me up. They’d want me to come a minute or two early to be sure the temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. And to be clear, this was a freestanding tub in the middle
of a football field–sized studio in the middle of New York City with no attached plumbing. The water was brought by hand, using buckets to fill the tub and trying to monitor the temperature. There was lots of heavy lifting involved here. As they were filling the tub, it was another crew member’s job to blow the bubbles using an air hose, making sure that they were all just right. The bubbles had to rise to a certain level so that when I got into the tub they would cover me just enough without blocking the shot.

  Our fabulous stage manager, Rusty Swope, made a point of being right there supporting us during our scenes, especially during these technically difficult and sensitive ones, from the beginning of the day until the last shot. Even if the director was screaming in his ear, Rusty never once brought his frustration to the actors who were in the scene. Rusty and Walter and the first-rate camera and boom operators, as well as the rest of their crews, were all so even-tempered. There was never a harsh word or raised voices among them in my presence or anyone else’s that I had ever seen. There was such a great relationship among all of us. It was impossible to imagine that this rapport could be duplicated anywhere else.

  Love scenes are often when the true professionalism of the cast and crew are evident. Although they can be highly sensual, the truth is, they’re also highly choreographed. One thing is for certain: they’re never private. There is a camera above you, next to you, and often one breathing down your neck. Sometimes the director might shoot a love scene later in the day so there are fewer people on the set, and on occasion, they may even clear the set of all nonessential people so the actors can have some privacy. Whether these types of scenes are shot in a semiprivate or not-so-private atmosphere, I could always count on the crew to be respectful and to make sure things went off without a hitch.

  I’ve always enjoyed the physicality of my work, whether I am stuck in a hole twenty feet beneath the ground with soot and debris all over me or lying in bed with a handsome man. One of the most memorable scenes I ever shot had Erica making love to Jackson on a pool table after her plane crashed. It seemed so decadent and out there—even for Erica. I loved it. As it does in real life, physical contact in acting allows an actor to go to another place. It may not be the same kind of interaction you share with someone you love, but it still transports you somewhere else and that playacting is terrific. Fortunately, I have a husband who understands that love scenes are part of my job description and all in a day’s work. Thank heavens my husband has always had a great sense of humor and a lot of self-confidence!

  * * *

  Travis and Jackson Montgomery are brothers who came from a very wealthy family in South Carolina. Travis was quite dashing and his brother, Jackson, equally handsome. Both men loved Erica. Travis was played by Larkin Malloy, a very seasoned actor who has appeared on several soaps, including The Edge of Night, Guiding Light, and All My Children. Larkin has a very manly presence, and as Travis, he was very romantic.

  Erica and Travis married twice. The first time, they had a daughter together, whom they named Bianca. When Bianca was diagnosed with Reye’s syndrome, Erica and Travis remarried so that their child could have a stable family life. Bianca recovered, but Erica and Travis weren’t meant to be. Erica began an affair with Travis’s brother, Jackson, that turned into a tangled triangle for many years.

  When Bianca walked in on her mother and Jack kissing in the living room, she realized that her mother was cheating on her father with her uncle. That was very hard for Bianca to take. She kept her emotions inside, acting out how she was feeling mostly through her dolls. She had an Erica doll and an Uncle Jack doll that she set on fire, accidentally burning down her family home. Travis was able to get custody of Bianca and ultimately took her away from Erica. Losing her child this way was very hard on Erica. She desperately wanted to kidnap Bianca. She went into an emotional tailspin and decided to move out of her house. As she was clearing out the safe, I discovered that the crew had placed twenty engagement rings inside! I couldn’t react to it on camera, but after the director called “cut,” I burst out laughing.

  One of my favorite scenes with Travis was shot at a plantation in South Carolina very late at night. There were a thousand votive candles on the lawn outside and in the garden, where Erica and Travis waltzed in the candlelight. In another scene, shot very late at night, Erica was supposed to drive up to the plantation in a beautiful Rolls-Royce Corniche, a huge and gorgeous cream-colored car that I had never driven before. It was so dark out as we were filming the scene at two o’clock in the morning that it was very hard for me to maneuver the car. In fact, as I turned into the driveway and entered through the iron gate, I heard this horrible sound. I had scraped the whole length of the driver’s side of the car from the front bumper to the back taillight! There was a soundman lying down on the backseat with a walkie-talkie, telling me in the most soothing voice, “Don’t stop. Just keep driving. It’s fine. Don’t worry.” There was a momentary pause and then, in his same ultrasoothing voice, he said, “Okay now, just back it out. We’re going to do another take.” And we did.

  I knew I had just damaged a $250,000 car, but from the darkness in the backseat, the soundman had talked me through it, assuring me that “the owner won’t mind!” Something told me that he might.

  * * *

  The decision to move to Los Angeles was a difficult one for me. I had a complete life in New York, which I wasn’t ready to give up. My family and I love everything about living there, from the change of seasons to the electricity in the air. I struggled with the idea of leaving at first because New York is my home, and home is where I always want to be. To me, home is driving through Central Park on my way to work, passing Lincoln Center, racing along Broadway to get to my voice teacher on West Sixteenth Street, or meeting friends for dinner uptown and downtown and everywhere in between. New York is where my children and grandchildren live. My closest friends were mostly in New York or in other easily accessible cities on the East Coast, so I didn’t want to make a decision that took me three thousand miles away without carefully weighing the pros and cons.

  I was working so many hours at All My Children the year before we left for Los Angeles that admittedly my commute became one of the cons. It seemed to be growing increasingly harder for me to get anywhere at the right time or right place. I’d come home so late that I rarely saw daylight. I left in the morning when it was still dark and returned at night in the dark. I was living like a vampire! The drive to and from the studio each day totaled two hours. I always made good use of that time, studying my scripts and memorizing my lines for the next day, so I didn’t mind the ride, but this factor had to be considered, too. (As luck would have it, once I got to Los Angeles, my commute was cut down to six minutes—seven minutes if there’s traffic. At first I didn’t think I would be able to memorize my scripts unless I had at least an hour in the car before work. Helmut jokingly offered to drive me around for an hour each day before heading to the studio if I thought that would help. After all of the stories I’d heard about life on the freeway in L.A., I never would have thought that my travel time there would become one of the pros in my decision.)

  I also warmed up to the idea of moving when I stopped to think about the opportunities that existed in Los Angeles. Although I never wanted to leave New York for good, I thought it might be interesting to experience life and work someplace else, as long as I could figure out a way to come home on a regular basis.

  Timing was the final factor. When I started out as an actress, I often dreamed of making the transition from television to film. Helmut and I contemplated moving to L.A. then, but once we had children, we chose to stay in New York, where we had roots in the community and we knew that our children could grow up with a sense of normalcy.

  Even though things were going very well for me in those early days at All My Children, I had no idea that our show would become breakthrough television. I was pregnant with Liza when one of the tabloid newspapers crowned me the “Queen of Daytime.” I liked the sound of t
hat, but at twenty-seven years old, I hardly felt as if I had earned the title. Princess, maybe, but not the queen—not yet anyway. That tabloid story was a definite indication of how much attention the show and the part of Erica were receiving. It was also an incentive to stay. But suddenly the networks were proposing nighttime series written just for me; movie offers started coming in, and before I knew it, life got busier than ever. After examining the realities of doing a prime-time show, however, I came to the conclusion that the timing and circumstances just weren’t right for me. I’m sure there are people who think that I made the wrong decision in passing up those opportunities, but they’re wrong. When I discovered that shooting a nighttime show often allowed for only a limited hiatus during the summer months, I realized that I’d be away from my children more often than I wanted and that I’d also have less control over the other things I got to do in my career. Ultimately, it made more sense to stay in daytime television so I could be free when my children were off from school or whenever my family needed me. Although I did end up doing several movies for television, very few were filmed in California, so we never did end up making the move…until, of course, All My Children presented the opportunity to do so.