JUDITH BOHANNON - My Forever Friend

 

JUDITH BOHANNON

My Forever Friend

She Did It Her Way

 

Richard and I were blessed to be invited to the beautiful life celebration for Judy at the Harmony-Gold Studios theater, hosted by the Los Angeles Academy of Dramatic Arts, where she taught theater, acting and directing to students for decades.  Hundreds of former students and colleagues, friends and family gathered to honor her extraordinary life and work…  Tears flowed as a video portrait played on screen, emotional tributes were given and former students acted in scenes of plays she had directed. 

I met Judy in 1973 on the set of the television pilot movie, “Nightside” starring John Cassavetes, Alexis Smith, written by the legendary columnist, Pete Hamill and directed by Richard Donner.  Judy was an actor’s actor. I wasn’t.  I wasn’t even an actor, period.  At the time, I was working as an ‘agent in training’ for the then theatrical agency, International Famous Agency (IFA) which morphed years later to ICM Partners.  After wrangling an early payment for the producer, Bert Leonard, from the network, he asked me if I’d be interested in being an extra in the show as a thank you. Thinking it would be a fun way to spend a few hours, I jumped at the chance.  Who wouldn’t want to be in a scene with Cassavetes?

The ”call” for the extras was at the crack of dawn, literally, on a below freezing February morning.  The shoot was in the Landmark, an 1848 bar and grill in Manhattan at the time being remodeled for the 20^th Century and covered in a huge blackout tent so that the interior would give the illusion it was night (hence the title “Nightside”). We were ushered into the tavern and placed around the interior.  Judy (then Judy Fields), Morgan Fairchild (then using her real name, Patsy) who were just starting out, had both been hired as extras for the day, and the three of us were placed right in front of the bar.  The assistant director liked our “hip, single girl look” and wanted us in the foreground.  We were given glasses filled with colored liquid to resemble cocktails and told to just talk amongst ourselves as the scene was being shot.  We did.  But, as I mentioned, it was a below freezing day and there was no heat as yet in the tavern. Consequently, you could see our breath when we talked.  We figured out a way that the camera wouldn’t pick up on that and spent the next fifteen hours talking to each other and trying not to shiver.  Yes, fifteen hours!  In below freezing temperatures!  With no coats! Cassavetes wanted all the extras to look like we were just patrons in a cool bar, enjoying friends and drinks. During our lunch and dinner breaks, we huddled together in our winter coats as we continued to talk and eat our boxed catered meals.

Why fifteen hours?  The night before Cassavetes had the producer fire Donner and took over as director.  And his vision was a meticulous one.  At the end of this five-minute scene, the huge gilt mirror hanging over the bar was to crash to the ground.  I don’t remember why, but the lead up to the crash was endless, since Cassavetes couldn’t crash the mirror ‘til he liked what he shot.  Alexis Smith, the “owner of the bar,” was a trouper.  So were Judy, Patsy and I.  It’s John Cassavetes after all!   We three learned a great deal about each other in those frigid hours and I came down with bronchial pneumonia.  After the two-hour pilot was “in the can,” it aired as movie-made-for-television, but was never picked-up as a series.  Welcome to television.

Both girls (and we were girls, just in our twenties) were also pursuing commercial work, as well as soap work, so I was able to get them meetings with the head of IFA’s commercial department and both became clients of the agency.  I lost contact with Patsy soon after, but Judy and I became friends for life.  She called me one of her "Leo girls" as two of her best friends were also Leos.

I loved the circus. Went every year growing up and even ran away to Ringling Bros. when it was at Madison Square Garden at age 11, so when Phillipe Pettit moved to Manhattan and (Judy’s former boyfriend when she had lived in Paris, if I'm remembering correctly), they reconnected and we practically lived at the circus when it was in NYC after Phillipe became the star of the Red Circus (or was it Blue - Ringling Bros. had two circuses which traveled the country).  We were in our late twenties, single and free. And I loved going with her to see all the glitter and to watch Phillipe perform - afterwards, he often took us out to Maxwell’s Plum, his favorite eatery/bar in Manhattan and we'd drink (well, Judy rarely drank anything but coke or a glass of champagne), eat, talk and laugh a lot. It was after she had moved to LA and Phillipe was living in her apartment in Chelsea that he wire-walked between the World Trade Center skyscrapers – at the time the tallest buildings in the world. I was in LA to celebrate my 30^th birthday and was staying with Judy that day.  We knew he was going to do it if the wind wasn't too bad. It was, but he decided to do it anyway and we waited, holding our breath, until friends called to say he made it (pre-internet days).

Phillipe finally left the circus, but Judy didn't stop going ‘til years later as she met a European circus teeterboard performer and they became involved. Again, I would often go to the performances with her. It was a magical time.

But, before Judy moved to LA, she introduced me to Tom Groenfeldt, who also became a lifelong friend.  At the time he was a reporter for the Bergen Record in New Jersey, and an amazing photographer who took many of Judy’s headshots, “fashion” and “action” shots for her portfolio.  He also took many pictures of me with Judy and me alone.  Judy and I called us the Three Musketeers.  Tom became our personal photographer/documentarian.  He even took my wedding pictures when Richard and I married years later.  Two of Tom’s amazing shots of Judy that were included in the memorial pictorial film of her life were taken by him when the three of us went on a mini-vacation to my mom’s home in Connecticut and the lake nearby.  Judy in my pink and blue Betsy Johnson maxi elephant tee shirt dress and Judy in her bikini stretched out on the lake dock.

Two more Tom photos -- Judy looking gorgeous washing her hair in the lake and the two of us at a Fifth Avenue street fair in Manhattan... 

 

 

Baron, her beautiful Irish setter, watched over the three of us.  He and I even bonded even though I’m a bit afraid of big dogs.  One picture Tom took of Baron and me shows how close I became with him that still surprises many of my friends.  I loved him.

 Judy embraced Richard with open arms when he came into my life in 1978 and hosted an engagement party for us in her cozy garden apartment in Chelsea after we finally made up our minds to get married after five years living together.  She made her beef stroganoff for the forty or so people who happily crowded in.  She even invited my mom who came down from Connecticut. While she was still in NY, I often picked out clothes for her auditions and cut her hair and then cut her hair again at times after we moved to LA for Richard’s and my television careers.

We spent years supporting each other - laughing and crying together - dining with each other, going to movies, theater and just hanging out – it was an “in sickness and in health” forever friendship.  She was an incredible actor and I managed her for a few years, introduced her to various producers I knew from my years at IFA when she first hit Los Angeles.  She directed one of Richard’s plays at the Colony Theater starring her dear friend, Art Tedesco, and supported Richard’s work always.  She loved the way he writes and went to his readings and helped cast them with actor friends she thought would do justice to his characters.

We, of course, never missed her fabulous Christmas parties, and she only missed ours when she was in Kentucky.  She never missed, however, our big Oscar parties or birthday parties.  And often came to dinner – just the three of us.   She tried to get me to audition for commercials to no avail, but loved it when I was on-camera as a guest designer for HGTV.  She supported and loved the mystery books I wrote even though it wasn’t a favorite genre. 

When we moved to Ojai ten years ago, we didn’t get to see each other very often and I’m forever sad that I didn’t visit her in her new home.  She’d visit us when she was nearby at a dog show and came up for big parties we hosted here.  As she became more ill, she would tell me over the phone or via email that all was going well.  She protected me from the pain she was in and I love her for that, but am so sorry I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.  The last time we talked just after her 78^th birthday and just before mine (we were only a month apart in age) she excitedly told me about her trip to Europe, the plans she made and the places she was going to.  She lived life to its fullest until the end and she did it her way.

I love you Judy Bohannon and will miss you always.