by Susan Lucci
After dressing, she glides down the hallway
As if she were an ice-skater, so as not to wake us
I sense her presence as she enters my
Room full of dreams and kisses me on my
Forehead. And I know it is my mother about
To descend upon her daily journey to her studio
In the city.
Liza Victoria Huber
Christmas 1990
* * *
Although Helmut planned the most romantic and wonderful surprise for me in Vienna, I have to take credit for doing what most people would consider pulling off the impossible: I was able to successfully organize and execute a surprise seventieth birthday celebration for my husband without him ever having a clue about it!
Helmut is the type of man who sees everything and misses nothing. He is always acutely aware of what’s happening around him, so to fool him was going to take a precise and well-thought-out plan—and a village. I enlisted our personal assistant, Helene, and my good friend Mike Cohen, the head of ABC daytime publicity for All My Children, as my partners in crime. I needed Mike to help me because I wanted the party to be portrayed as an official ABC affiliate event. This was the only way I could think of to keep Helmut out of the loop while requiring him to accompany me.
Mike had only one invitation printed up, but he made it look like any number of ABC invitations I’d received over the years. My picture was featured because I was listed as the mistress of ceremonies. The plan was to have Mike phone me at home and break the news that the network had planned a special affiliate event for a weekend in October, “coincidentally” the same weekend as Helmut’s birthday. Of course, when Mike called, we had planned that I would tell him there was no way I could attend the event. I kindly explained that it was my husband’s birthday and we had an agreement to always be together for happy occasions and holidays. I pretended to be very upset and emphatic in saying there was no way I would consider doing the event.
When the invitation arrived in the mail, Helmut could see that I was the featured person. He also understood that this was an official black-tie event for the network to meet the affiliates at the Rainbow Room, a gorgeous space high above midtown Manhattan at the very top of Rockefeller Center. I could tell Helmut was rethinking my “decision,” maybe giving in just this once and making an exception about mixing my personal and professional commitments. Still, I refused. I told Helmut that I wouldn’t work on his birthday. It was a very big birthday and I simply couldn’t see myself giving it up for anything.
“You have to go,” he said.
And, of course, had this been a real event, he would have been absolutely right. Still, I called Mike one more time to tell him “I was out.”
A few days later, Mike called Helmut to apologize about the timing. He explained that he and I had spoken six months earlier without realizing there would be a conflict.
“If you and Susan could just come, give us a few minutes to make some opening remarks, and say a quick hello to everyone, I am sure we can get you out of there within half an hour so you and your family and friends can get on with your night and private celebration.” Mike was pleading with Helmut.
When they hung up, my husband gallantly came to me and pitched the idea. I remained very reluctant.
“I will only do it if you are absolutely sure we can be out of there in half an hour because there is no way I am spending your birthday at that event,” I said. If I hadn’t already won that Emmy, I sure deserved it for this performance.
Meanwhile, Mike, Helene, and I were like little elves pulling every string and dealing with every last detail. I went to the Rainbow Room to meet with the executive chef, who just happened to be from Austria! When I explained that my husband is Austrian, too, he and I planned the perfect menu, consisting of all of Helmut’s favorite foods and wines. I snuck out of the house one day in the guise of getting a manicure and met with the Hank Lane Orchestra, my very favorite in New York. Some of my most fun times in Manhattan have been dancing to the wonderful music of this orchestra. I handpicked what they were to play that night, making sure each and every song was meaningful to my husband without being “cheesy.” My children have rolled their eyes at me on more than one occasion, and so I had a very vivid picture of their faces if they were to catch me being cheesy on this special night. I remembered Steven Spielberg once saying in an interview that his kids rolled their eyes at him. If his kids could feel that way, I guess I’m in good company.
I had thought of every last detail, just in case Helmut managed to get someone else to slip up. Helene was mission control, keeping track of all of the RSVPs. I even had everyone at All My Children in on the secret. One day, I told Helmut I was going to a costume fitting at the studio before work but was really going to the Rainbow Room to check on last-minute details. I had put the entire studio on red alert, just in case Helmut called. Sure enough, out of the blue, he phoned the wardrobe department looking for me. This was a little unusual, and thankfully, the crew there knew how to handle the situation in my absence. Mark Klein, who took over as head of wardrobe after No-No left, immediately took Helmut’s call and lied through his teeth.
“Susan’s just finishing up her fitting. I will have her call you as soon as she comes out,” he very convincingly said.
Michael Woll, the amazing assistant to the head of wardrobe, picked up his cell and immediately called to alert me that Helmut was on the loose and looking for me.
I calmly found a quiet spot where there would be no telltale taxi horns honking in the background and called my husband. He was none the wiser and the plan was still fully in motion.
Mike and I made sure to invite some very noticeable faces from the network and included friends like Regis and Joy Philbin and Cameron Mathison, who would each act as great decoys on the faux “red carpet” we had planned to have. Mike and I arranged for actual photographers from the press corps to stand outside taking pictures as we walked in so it would look and feel extremely real. To give an even more authentic touch to the event, Cameron Mathison, who was doing Dancing with the Stars at the time, got right off a plane and showed up so he could meet us curbside to walk into the “event” together. That was above and beyond the call of duty and I will never forget him for doing that!
In addition to these familiar faces, I invited people from every walk of Helmut’s life, including his son Danny and grandson, Christian, who flew in from Switzerland, and some business associates who have known him for many years. All in all, there were around 250 people inside enjoying the music that the Hank Lane Orchestra played for the crowd while they waited for our arrival. I had large screens set up all over the room so people could see themselves and other guests arriving, including us as we made our way down the red carpet. In reality, I needed a way for the guests to see that Helmut was about to make his entrance so they could welcome him with a hearty and loud “Surprise!”
Regis Philbin was set to be the master of ceremonies at another event across town at the Waldorf that night, so he was on a tight time schedule. The van that Mike; Helmut; Liza; her husband, Alex; Andreas; and I were in was held up in some very heavy midtown traffic, so we ended up getting out and hightailing it on foot to make sure we made it to the party before Regis had to leave. Thankfully, Cameron was waiting for us on the street. He escorted us toward the express elevator to the Top of the Rock. When we got off as planned, Mike had hung ABC posters all around. We were met by the photographers, who snapped lots of photos as we walked the faux red carpet. There was even a roped-off area where we were supposed to stop and pose. Cameron and I danced a little, and then I did a brief interview before we headed into the reception. It was perfect.
The doors flung open, and as we walked into the room, everyone inside yelled, “SURPRISE!”
Helmut was dumbfounded, but when he saw his son and grandson, he realized the party was for him and he got very choked up. He was completely surprised and thrilled as everybody joined in singing a robust
“Happy Birthday” to him.
Helmut is a born nurturer. He’s very capable and is one of those people on this great earth who gets joy out of making things happen and taking care of others. It was very touching to Helmut to have that party be for him.
Nobody could believe that we were able to pull off this remarkable feat. People told me that if the acting thing didn’t work out, I could get a job working on covert missions for the FBI or the CIA.
Helmut and I have always had a great love of adventure. We especially enjoy traveling together, which is one of our secrets to keeping the fun factor alive in our relationship. We have been invited to attend parties and events at which I sometimes have to pinch myself and ask, How did I get here?
In 1986, Martha Layne Collins, the first woman governor of Kentucky, invited us to be her guests at the Kentucky Derby. We immediately accepted her invitation, as we had never attended the Derby before and I have always loved horses. Although I never competed, I rode horses as a little girl. My interest in riding started as a hobby that my father and I shared. Whenever my dad and his friends went riding at the local public stable in Bethpage, they’d take me with them. I’d hop on a horse and ride along the path. Although I was only seven years old, I didn’t like how slow those stable horses moved. I instinctively gave them a swift kick with my heels to make them go faster, but for whatever reason, the horse I was on one day still refused to go. So I got off to lead him back to the barn. My father turned around and saw me walking away.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“This horse doesn’t go fast enough!” I replied.
My father broke a twig off a nearby tree and gave it to me to use as a crop. He told me to hold it right behind the horse’s eye, just close enough for him to see it. I got back on the horse, thinking, This will never work! We walked from the stable, back to the path, and toward an open field that surrounded the famous Bethpage golf course. My father and his friends liked to go there so they could let the horses really run. When it came time for me to hold the twig, I placed it where my father told me, and sure enough, that horse took off. He kept up with the pack of fast-moving horses. I loved every minute of that ride. When I finished—in one piece, I might add—my father said I could take lessons so I would know what I was doing.
* * *
I was able to put my horseback-riding skills to good use while shooting a scene for All My Children on the beach in St. Croix. In 1978, Erica had married her third husband, Tom Cudahy, played by the very handsome and sexy Dick Shoberg. Dick and John James were the only Swedish men I ever worked with on All My Children, something I liked because of my own Swedish background.
Dick’s character, Tom, was an ex–football star who owned the Goalpost, a new restaurant in Pine Valley where Erica went to work after leaving Nick Davis and the Chateau. Erica had a long-term affair with Nick, who was not only many years older than she, but was also one of Mona’s dearest friends. Tom fell for Erica after she confessed that Nick had actually broken off their engagement and dumped her. Tom and Erica went away together for a weekend in the country that was filled with endless hours of passionate lovemaking. Erica believed she was in love with Tom and it was clear that he had fallen for her. Tom proposed and Erica accepted.
Erica’s mother knew that she didn’t love Tom. She accused her daughter of using him to get back at Nick Davis. Erica threatened never to speak to Mona again if she tried to stop the wedding, so Mona sat in silence as the two exchanged their vows. The following day, Tom and Erica went on their honeymoon in St. Croix.
Dick Shoberg, who was newly married at the time, joked that he spent his honeymoon with me rather than with his actual wife. Thank goodness his wife was a very understanding woman.
Agnes Nixon loved St. Croix. She had a home there for many years. She often went to her Caribbean hideaway to write her scripts, so I imagine this was a very special and magical location for her and for our show.
My very favorite “on location” dressing room was on the beach in St Croix. The crew strung sheets together and nailed them into four palm trees. Inside, they hung a little mirror, barely big enough for me to see my face, let alone check what I was wearing. I was supposed to change into proper equestrian clothes to shoot a horseback-riding scene on the beach in a jungle. There was no time to go back to the hotel for the various wardrobe changes, from bathing suits to riding clothes and back again.
I had a chance to ride a beautiful black horse on the white sand in the Caribbean—as part of my job! Does work get any better than that? I was in heaven.
The following day, I was told I’d be snorkeling off the back of a boat. Although I had never been diving or snorkeling before, I didn’t think it would be a challenging task. That is, of course, until I discovered exactly what I was being asked to do. At nine o’clock the night before we shot the water scene, our hotel agreed to turn on the lights in their pool, as the producers had arranged an impromptu snorkeling lesson for me. We had been shooting all day at the beach. I was tired from riding the horse, but still game. It turned out that snorkeling in the pool was a piece of cake. I thought, I can definitely do this!
The next day, we boarded a boat and headed toward an area where there were lots of coral reefs. I was told that the fish were exceptionally spectacular in this area. There were several extras who came with us and jumped into the water before I did. Suddenly the boat felt very high up above the water. I went to the edge of the boat and looked over the side and then up to the deck I was supposed to dive off of. I was doing everything I could to psych myself up and take that initial plunge.
I slipped on my mask and snorkel and prepared to go for it. As I was springing off the boat, Bobby Behr, our head cameraman, came up behind me and loudly hummed the theme song from Jaws. Ba, Bum, Ba, Bum, Ba Bum. When I came up from the water, I looked back at him and thought, I’m going to kill you, Bobby!
* * *
You never know what to expect or whom you will meet when you go to new places. It’s one of the things I truly love about traveling, and attending the Kentucky Derby as the guests of Governor Collins was no exception. She was so very gracious as she invited us to stay at the governor’s mansion, which was really lovely and quite comfortable. As you might expect, the governor was invited to all of the festivities surrounding the Derby that weekend, including the best parties. Let me tell you, those Kentuckians sure do know how to have a good time. They do everything on a great big scale, in a glamorous and wonderful style. The homes are large and the parties are, too. Everything is spectacular in the grandest way.
The first party we attended was held at the home of a woman who tented her private polo field for the event. The party’s theme was Egyptian and revolved around some very handsome bare-chested men rowing in large canoes suspended from the ceiling. All of the waiters were dressed—or undressed—in the same attire. I had never seen anything like it, but it was very theatrical and extremely effective.
The next party we attended was at the home of the fabulous Marylou Whitney, whom I feel so lucky to know. I remember seeing two very large urns atop the pillars at the front gate. The urns were filled with flowers. They weren’t plants. They were freshly cut flora that had been placed there by hand—and beautifully arranged.
When we approached the front door, I was expecting to be greeted by a butler or some other member of her household staff. Much to my surprise, Marylou answered the door herself. She is the most gracious hostess ever. She greets every single one of her guests. She had on a beautiful white gown and was wearing a crown of white flowers in her hair. She made a point of telling us that she had just put this particular gown on because someone had accidentally spilled red wine on her original dress. She looked exquisite and very welcoming. Her husband, C. V. “Sonny” Whitney, joined her at the door. Although we had never met, I could see that his health was failing. Still, he was every bit as gracious as his wife. When we walked through the door, I was surprised to discover that we were not in their ma
in house, but in their pool pavilion. Later, after cocktails, we proceeded into the main house for dinner. A great time was had by all.
As we left Kentucky, the warmth and grace shown by both Governor Collins and Marylou Whitney made us feel that we had come to know firsthand the true meaning of southern hospitality.
Marylou and I hit it off from the very start and forged a lovely connection that night at her party. A few months later, I was being honored by the Red Cross in Palm Beach. Marylou had a home there and asked if I would attend a party she was hosting the afternoon before the event. Of course I said I would be delighted. I was seated directly next to her at the party, which I thought was very charming. Marylou excused herself from the table so she could mingle with her other guests. When she left, two gentlemen who were also seated at our table moved closer so they could sit on either side of me.
“Welcome to Erica Kane County,” one of the men said with a big twinkle in his eyes.
After that night, Marylou and I developed a very special friendship. She is one of the most delightful and strongest women I know. Several years after her husband, Sonny, died, Marylou met John Hendrickson, another wonderful man, whom she married in 1997. John was a former aide to Governor Walter Joseph Hickel of Alaska. John has become one of our favorite people. I just love it when I am seated next to him at events, as he is such a good guy and very funny.
Helmut and I have maintained a friendship with Marylou and John, attending their annual gala during the height of the horse-racing season at Saratoga Springs, in upstate New York. I love Saratoga and the Adirondacks, so I am always happy to spend time in the region and with them. Marylou has demonstrated her love in so many ways, and the townspeople just love her in return.
In addition to being one of the greatest beauties and legendary hostesses of all time, Marylou is a champion horse breeder and one of the greatest adventure seekers I have ever met. We were absolutely thrilled when she asked if we would be interested in taking a trip with her and her husband to Alaska to experience the Iditarod. The first Iditarod race was held on March 3, 1873, with thirty-four teams. The dogsled teams pass through twenty-six checkpoints on the route. Three of those checkpoints are in such harsh country that the only time people are there is during the race. The rest of the year they are uninhabited. This is no race for the fainthearted.