Eighty Is Not Enough: One Actor's Journey Through American Entertainment

by Dick van Patten

  Shortly after we began filming the first season, Diana became too sick to continue. At first she seemed to have some kind of injury, but after just four episodes, she would never come back. Her collapse was rapid. Pat and I visited her as she was dying. I’ll never forget ringing the doorbell at her home when John Travolta came to the door. It immediately struck us that he was wearing his famous three-piece, white suit from the movie, Saturday Night Fever. Apparently Diana loved to see him in that outfit.

  John quickly told us it was almost over. We went into Diana’s room and tried to give her some encouragement. But as soon as I saw her, I knew this was the end. I asked if she would like to see a priest. John agreed, and I called Father Bob Curtis. He came to the house and administered the last rites of the Catholic Church.

  Soon, Diana was unresponsive. In a few minutes, with me, Pat, John and Diana’s mother all in the room, she died. It was a terrible moment. John was devastated.

  I helped with a few of the practical arrangements. There was a need to have some legal papers signed by her next of kin. Diana had not yet divorced, so that meant they needed the agreement of her estranged husband to proceed with the funeral arrangements. Pat and I drove to his home, and after some initial reluctance, he signed the document in the presence of his attorney. It was all very bizarre. More important, I had lost a friend and colleague, and it affected me deeply. I also gained a tremendous respect for John who stood by Diana throughout her entire illness, never abandoning her for a moment in her time of need. He showed real character, and I know that he suffered immensely.

  After Diana’s death, many of us believed the show would be cancelled. Already four episodes into the season, it seemed impossible to simply shove another woman into the role as though nothing had happened. But while Bill Blinn and the producers understood things were looking dismal, they came up with the idea of weaving a new love interest into Tom’s life. It was a gamble, but one that paid off in the end. We all felt lucky that the show wasn’t pulled right off the air.

  In the pilot, the part of my oldest son David had been played by an unknown actor named Mark Hamill. At the time, Mark was filming the lead role in a new science fiction movie by George Lucas, the director of American Graffiti. The film was having production difficulties, and they kept putting off its release date. Still, there was a buzz in the air that it was going to be something special. Just two months after the first season of Eight Is Enough began airing in March of 1977, Star Wars hit the theaters, catapulting Mark from my son David in a pilot television program to one of the most recognizable actors in the world as the swashbuckling Jedi knight, Luke Skywalker.

  But before the world came to know Mark as the hero battling Darth Vader and the “dark side,” he did his share to help us market Eight Is Enough. In fact, the pilot is largely centered on the strained relationship between David and Tom. The pilot was actually the first of many of those “coming of age” storylines on Eight Is Enough. It reflected the tensions arising when a young man’s need to break from the restraints of home collides with a parent’s resistance to his efforts for independence. When this happens, something has to give way. In the pilot, David moved out of the house and rented his own apartment.

  The final scene was, in my view, one of the best in the entire series of Eight Is Enough. Realizing that he may have been too restrictive, and not wanting to lose the affection of his son, Tom swallows his pride and visits David at his new apartment. Upon entering, things immediately take a turn for the worse as Tom notices a piece of woman’s clothing on the floor. It’s obvious David has female company. In this scene, Bill Blinn wrote some beautiful dialogue reflecting the bond between a man and his son—a bond stronger than the disagreements they have about how to live their lives.

  That central tension between father and son remained with the show until the very end. Much later my old friend David Wayne would help out in a two-part episode of Eight Is Enough, where, once again, the age-old conundrum of parent/child discord was front and center. Coincidentally, David, who came in as Matt, Tom Bradford’s estranged father, had also played my father in The American Way in 1939. Now, forty years later, and with a little more grey, we did it again. I wonder if there have ever been two actors who played father and son with a forty-year gap.

  In the show, Tom’s father was a dreamer, a man who abandoned his family in search of something more—some elusive dream he would never find. He ends up in Hawaii, where we shot on location. In a beautiful scene reminiscent of that poignant moment with Mark Hamill in the pilot, David and I—father and son—nursing drinks in an empty Hawaiian barroom, found a way to reconcile. David Wayne was a wonderful actor whose career over many years oddly and fortuitously intersected with my own. I was sad to hear of his death in 1993.

  The pilot, thus, established the thematic framework for the rest of the series. With my son, David, gone from the home, the rest of the children fought over his room, the first of many domestic squabbles over scarce family possessions. It was an idea that persisted throughout the series. In addition to this innocent bickering, one of the daughters, Susan, played by Susan Richardson, was arrested for marijuana possession.

  With the pilot raising issues about both premarital sex and drugs, Eight Is Enough was marketed not just as a show representing family values, but as one that would not shy away from difficult topics simply because they were controversial. In Eight Is Enough these issues were rarely viewed as black and white. Just as Tom Bradford was conflicted over his son’s right to independence, Susan’s drug possession was presented as an obstacle to be overcome, rather than a pronouncement of moral outrage against any teenager who experimented with marijuana.

  * * *

  It’s impossible for me to point to any one of the kids in Eight Is Enough as better than the others. But it’s certainly true that casting Adam Rich as little Nicholas was a stroke of genius, dumb luck—or both. At age eight, Adam was an uncanny natural. He melded childhood innocence with the acting skills of a seasoned adult. His enormously powerful screen presence prompted the phenomenon of “Nicholas-mania” among throngs of women infatuated with his irresistible charm. Years after the show, one of our premier directors, Harry Harris, described an incident during the shooting of an episode in San Diego. Adam needed to use the bathroom, but there was a mass of women between him and the door. When Adam saw them, Harris recalled, he was literally “shaking.” Harris had to ask a local policeman to escort Adam to and from the men’s room.

  Even thirty years later, people still comment on Adam’s unique charm. In fact, it’s no surprise that in response to President Obama’s reference to the show, Michael Malone wrote that the President had “smiled a bit,” perhaps “because you can’t not smile when a picture of young Adam Rich in a bowl cut comes to mind.” He’s right. There was a quality Adam brought to the role of Nicholas that was simply unforgettable. He really did leave you smiling. In my nearly eighty years in the entertainment business, I’ve seen thousands, if not, tens of thousands, of child actors, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more magical than Adam Rich playing Nicholas Bradford. The success of Eight Is Enough was the result of a wondrous convergence of so many marvelous performers, writers and producers, but, in my mind, it was Adam more than anyone who kept the viewers coming back for more.

  In the second season, I recall being pleased when I received a script for an episode, titled: Who’s on First? As mentioned, I had been a lifelong fan of Abbott and Costello. Lou and Bud had so many great skits, but one of my favorites, and perhaps their most enduring, was their famous “Who’s on First?” It was one of those fast-paced routines in which timing is critical.

  The storyline for the episode involved a school variety show in which Tom and Nicholas perform the famous “Who’s on First?” routine. I have to admit I was initially a bit apprehensive. Having seen the great Abbott and Costello do it so many times, I just wasn’t sure we could pull it off. It requires a good deal of skill, especially Lou’s Costello’
s part, which would be played by Adam. I wasn’t at all convinced that any child Adam’s age could make it work. But I should have known better. It took just one rehearsal to convince me I should be worrying about me and not Adam.

  The writers had changed the premise from a baseball game to a school variety show. So I came out onstage and asked Nicholas about the lineup for the show—one that would feature acts by three different groups calling themselves, “What,” “Who” and “Yes.”

  Nicholas: There’s going to be three groups playing.

  Tom: What’s the name of the first group?

  Nicholas: Who.

  Tom: That’s what I want to find out?

  Nicholas: What’s that?

  Tom: Who’s the group that’s going to play—the first group?

  Nicholas: Well, if you know, why are you asking me?

  Tom: Wait a minute! The second group, do they have a name?

  Nicholas: Yes.

  Tom: Well what’s their name?

  Nicholas: Yes.

  Tom: Okay, you told me, now who’s the second group?

  Nicholas: No, Who’s the first group.

  And so it went…Adam, with his impeccable timing, had everyone in stitches.

  Another very special and memorable episode featuring Adam, as well as Willie Aames as Tommy, was the two-part Christmas show, Yes, Nicholas, There Is a Santa Claus. The title came from a Christmas article Tom wrote for his newspaper in which he affirmed that Christmas is not only a time for celebration, but “a time for reassessing the value of our lives.” It had been a difficult year for the family since Joan’s death, and their Christmas would be the first one without her. Because of that, and because the kids were getting older, many of them wanted to spend Christmas day elsewhere, or were less than enthusiastic about the holiday.

  Tommy was particularly disinterested and cynical. Abby, now his stepmother, saw that Tommy’s indifference was a front for a far deeper problem—the loss of his mother. She discovers a gift hidden in a silver chalice on a kitchen shelf. She realizes it was left there for Tommy by Joan before she died. Tom explains to Abby that throughout the year Joan was always looking for a special gift for each of the children. When she found one, she would hide it away for the following Christmas.

  In one of the most touching moments of the series, Tom, at the end of the show, gives the gift to his son. Tommy realizes it’s from his deceased mother. In one of the strongest performances in all of Eight Is Enough, Willie Aames managed to touch a special emotional chord that resonated with all of us and is still beautiful to watch today. The gift from his mother is a book of poetry. And it’s particularly special to Tommy because his mother knew he had a sensitive side, which at times made him feel less masculine than his older brother and friends. The book contained a message from Joan. She wrote to Tommy: “It is not unmanly to be sensitive. Be happy that you are. It makes you even more of a man....” As I read the message out loud, it was impossible for everyone on the set to keep the tears away.

  A large part of what made the scene so very wrenching was the strange coincidence of reality and fiction. The character Joan Bradford had died, just as Diana Hyland, who played her in the show, had died. All of us, except Betty, had been on the show at the time of Diana’s death. I know that as the camera panned the room and paused at each of the saddened, tearful faces of all those kids, there was a mix of acting and genuine sadness. I know that’s how it was for me.

  To complicate matters, the Bradfords were robbed that night by a burglar. The thief was a cynical old man played by the veteran actor and political activist, Will Geer, who died shortly after the show aired. Geer had become famous as Grandpa Zeb in The Waltons, and his character, a lonely guy who had come to despise the holiday spirit, added a special poignancy to the Christmas episode. In many ways the show recalled the famous Christmas episode of I Remember Mama. And as with the thieves in Mama, the Bradfords end up bringing the thief into their home to celebrate the holiday.

  * * *

  Just as Nicholas won the hearts of millions of viewers, his oldest sibling, David, was also making fans. But now it wasn’t Mark Hamill. In fact, as it became more apparent that Star Wars was going to be a hit movie, with the likelihood of sequels given Lucas’s original conception of a series of trilogies, Mark wanted out of his contract with Eight Is Enough. ABC, however, had other ideas. They naturally thought it would be great to have a big movie star in the show, and so they refused to let him go.

  But fate intervened. In December of 1976, just as we were about to start shooting the first season, Mark was in a terrible car crash, suffering serious injuries that required reconstructive surgery on his face. I’m sure it was an awful time for Mark, but in time he pulled through and was eventually able to return to those Star Wars sequels. But the accident did end his days as David Bradford. With Mark recovering in the hospital, and the TV schedule pressing, ABC hired a talented young actor named Grant Goodeve to step in as the oldest Bradford child.

  Grant was an immediate sensation. Much of his success, I believe, was due to his ability to successfully portray two different aspects of the character. He conveyed the maturity of an older brother, who often took on the role of substitute father, while still struggling with his own transition to adulthood. In an episode titled, Fast and Loose, David is stunned when his friend drops dead of a massive heart attack right in the middle of their conversation. For the first time in his life, he is confronted with the harsh reality that life is fragile and death often arbitrary. He asks his father: “What’s it all worth, Dad. All the hassles and work you put into making something good out of life if it can all just end like that?” My only response is, “It’s worth as much as you can make of it.” But that’s not nearly enough. David will have to find his own way through this crisis.

  Like many young people searching for meaning in their lives, David rebels. At his friend’s grave he promises: “I’ll live enough for the both of us. From now on it’s going to be fast and loose.” And so he begins a journey of reckless and self-destructive behavior. He spirals downward until he finds himself on the brink of alienating and even losing his own family. In the end, David finds his way back, recognizing that despite inexplicable and senseless tragedies, people have to move forward, no matter how painful.

  David will never be quite the same. But he will learn to cope with the blows life deals us. I think that’s a passage we all, sooner or later, have to make. In the wake of tragedy, there’s always a temptation to lose faith in the meaning of our lives. Grant’s portrayal of a young man at that crossroad was, in my view, an example of Eight Is Enough at its best.

  On a lighter note, the family itself takes a big step forward toward normalcy when, in the second season, Tom married Abby. One of the biggest television episodes of the 1970s, more than half the television sets in America were tuned to the Bradford nuptials during a two-hour special titled, Children of the Groom. The wedding was the happy fruition of Bill Blinn’s idea that ultimately saved the show. According to Bill, his sister had told him about a friend who tutored the children of a widower and then ended up marrying the guy. Bill grabbed the idea, and, in a wonderful instance of art imitating life, it worked perfectly.

  Still, there were complications—particularly with the younger children. Both Nicholas and Elizabeth view the marriage as putting a further distance between themselves and their real mother. As the whole family enthusiastically prepares for the wedding, Elizabeth bitterly complains: “No one even mentions Mom.” Nicholas is just as dejected—still believing his mom will be mad at all the commotion when she finally comes back. In a poignant scene, Elizabeth, played by Connie Newton, explains the truth to her little brother: “Nicholas, Mom isn’t coming home.” But, Nicholas refuses to believe it: “She’s a good mother, and good mothers don’t leave their kids for ever and ever.”

  Connie, Adam and the writers successfully captured not just the sadness of Joan’s death, but the guilt we all experience from moving on. Aft
er such a tragedy, I think it’s always difficult to believe that the acceptance of a new person no longer counts as a betrayal of the one who’s gone. Elizabeth had to understand and internalize that idea before she could ever accept Abby. In the end, she does, but only when Abby persuades her she will never try to replace Joan. With that understanding, they begin a new and better relationship as Abby asks Elizabeth to be her Maid of Honor at the wedding.

  * * *

  Eight Is Enough aired during a time of changing racial attitudes in the United States. By the 1970s, things had certainly progressed from the days on that train in Baltimore when the black cast members of The Skin of Our Teeth were moved to the “colored car.” The civil rights movement had made great progress, and many of the legal barriers to discrimination had been removed.

  But we all know there’s a difference between laws and attitudes. Often people enthusiastic about eradicating legal discrimination were less flexible when it came to their own deeply-rooted notions about race. Eight Is Enough’s attempt to deal with the problem of what some have called “soft racism” came in an episode, All’s Fair in Love and War, in which Tom believes his daughter Mary is about to embark on a serious, long-term relationship with the African-American son of one of Tom’s old war buddies.

  The episode has another important thread since the young man, Richard, played by Dorian Harewood, is a captain in the Army, who is in Sacramento to set up an ROTC recruiting office in the local college. When this episode aired in 1978, memories of the Vietnam War were fresh on everyone’s mind, and attitudes in society were quite different than what we experience now. In today’s America, regardless of one’s political views concerning the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Americans tend to separate the military from the political. There is rightly a widespread feeling of appreciation for the tremendous sacrifices made by our young men and women in the armed forces.