The network immediately held a crisis meeting with us to decide what to do. I felt that Star should continue until the day she was due to leave. I hate confrontation and thought that if she continued it might make matters less explosive. Bill felt strongly that Star now could not be trusted. The network agreed. Star was asked not to return.
That was almost two years ago. Star seemed to have had a difficult time finding another job. I still feel it might have been easier for her to find a new position if she had left the program in the graceful way we had suggested. But in August 2007 she debuted on Court TV, hosting her own program. Star has said that she had a long time to think. Before the new program began she admitted that she had indeed undergone a gastric bypass. I give her great credit. She looks very different now than she did on The View (among other changes, she wears glasses), but the intelligence and the charm are still there. Unfortunately, Star’s program only lasted six months, but I realized how much I missed her. Not just on the air, where she had made a huge contribution to the success of The View, but off. I wrote a note to her in the fall of 2007 and asked if we could meet. We did, for breakfast (Star’s schedule does not permit her time for lunch), and we embraced each other with sincere warmth.
We did not attempt to replace Star on The View. We thought one new member of the cast was enough for the season. But also, there was no one we could think of who had the qualities Star had originally brought to the program. Instead, Bill arranged for a variety of guest “cohosts,” many of them African Americans.
Rosie O’Donnell began cohosting The View on September 5, 2006. She introduced a whole new and challenging chapter of the program. How to describe it? It was like a roller-coaster ride or a bumpy trip on a fast-moving bus. Rosie had originally said she wanted to ride the bus, not drive it. But this backseat role was simply not in her nature. Rosie is a big talent, funny, smart, opinionated, passionate—and controlling.
Almost from her first weeks Rosie had difficulty accepting Bill as the producer in charge of the program. She challenged his decisions. She didn’t want features on beauty or fashion or medical subjects, all of which had been popular on the show. In the months that followed they had almost no relationship. At one point Bill confided in me that he was not sure he wanted to continue on the program. Rosie also had difficulty with Mark Gentile and with some of the crew—the floor managers, the stagehands, and the audio engineers. There was so much bad feeling that when The View had its annual Christmas party, many of the staff refused to attend until they learned that Rosie wouldn’t be able to come. These situations troubled me, but I hoped that in time they would clear up. Still, Rosie was a professional. She gave her heart to the program, and sometimes it was difficult for her. I understood that.
From the beginning Rosie openly discussed her emotional problems. She was on medication, she told us. She suffered from depression and often felt rage. Her mother had died when Rosie was four days away from her eleventh birthday. The loss was always with her. She repeatedly said she missed the love and approval of a mother. Sometimes, she said, she saw me in that role. That was fine with me. I often felt maternal toward Rosie.
We did a special hour on depression, with Rosie discussing her own problems. At one point she hung upside down in a kind of harness to show what she did at home to relieve her depression. This was an important television program. It not only provided information to our viewers, but her candor helped us understand Rosie’s emotional swings. In the early weeks of the program, we were all rather anxious about what kind of a mood Rosie would be in when she entered the dressing room. One day she would be upbeat and smiling, the next day dark and subdued. Gradually we learned to go with the flow, as they say, and not take too seriously or personally her morning disposition.
The View had been a great success for years, including the season before Rosie joined the program, but she took it to new heights with her great humor and energy. She was wonderful with children and treated us to charming stories about her own kids. She also loved Broadway, and we booked as many Broadway stars as we could. On her birthday Rosie asked to have a whole program of musical numbers performed by the casts of the Broadway shows she liked the most. We did so, in tribute to her. Rosie has probably sold more tickets to Broadway shows than any advertisements could have.
The premise of The View is that of a team working together, but for Rosie it was more like Diana Ross and the Supremes, as little by little she took over. Still, she was such a talent that we lived with it. All was pretty steady until the Donald Trump feud took place over the Christmas holidays. The View was about to go on a holiday hiatus. I left the program a week before the vacation began to join my friend the columnist Cindy Adams, on Judge Judy’s yacht. While I was gone, Rosie attacked Trump on the air, calling him a “snake oil salesman,” making fun of his hairstyle, and saying, among other things, that he had declared bankruptcy. I knew that was incorrect because in the past I had interviewed Trump on the subject. Trump threatened to sue ABC, The View, Rosie, and me. From my boat in the Caribbean, I joined Bill in a conference call to Trump. He was furious. Bill and I told him we would clear up the issue of the bankruptcy. That was all we said, and we assumed that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. Within a half hour Trump was talking to everyone. There wasn’t a radio or TV show that he did not go on, hurling the most personal insults against Rosie. Trump had been my friend for many years. He often appeared on The View, and I had attended his wedding to the beautiful Melania. So I tried to make peace. ABC insisted that we make clear that he had not declared bankruptcy. I returned to The View a week before Rosie finished her vacation, and with the assistance of ABC’s legal department, Rosie’s own lawyer, and her brother, who advises her, we drafted a statement. I went on the air and said very clearly that Trump had not been bankrupt. End of possible lawsuit. I then criticized Trump for his insulting remarks about Rosie and did what I thought was a very strong defense of her. I said how valuable she was to the program and how much the viewers and the critics loved her. Trump then attacked me. Things got worse.
When Rosie finally returned to The View, to my amazement she angrily berated me in the dressing room for not defending her enough. She said I had told Donald Trump during the conference call from the yacht that I didn’t want her on the program. Bill and I insisted that I never said any such thing. She refused to believe us. The funny thing is that even though her accusations were totally wrong and extremely upsetting, I could somehow understand her turmoil. Perhaps she thought of me as the mother who had once more abandoned her.
How did I get caught in the middle of a mess I’d originally had no part in? Yet, though it was a mess to me, the viewers loved the feud and the ratings soared.
Things got calmer. Rosie and I returned to our earlier friendly state. And the viewers, who now never knew what to expect from the outspoken Rosie, tuned in each day to see what she would do or say. ABC’s executives were happy with Rosie. So, along with the network, I said to myself, “It is a new View. What is good for The View is good for me.”
But if the result of the Trump feud was higher ratings, it also meant that now Rosie seemed to be enjoying feuds. She had a little feud with Kelly Ripa, another with Paula Abdul and her show, American Idol, and a bigger one with Bill O’Reilly, who began to call on his own program for her to be fired. She also, almost daily, attacked President Bush and condemned the invasion of Iraq. Elisabeth Hasselbeck, who supported Bush, reacted strongly and she and Rosie faced off time and again on the air. But it never became personal. However, as the weeks rolled on, the program became more and more political, and Rosie became more and more controversial. We were the talk of the industry. Like her or hate her, you could not stop watching Rosie. The network, though, was beginning to be uncomfortable. Even so, in the spring of 2007, they began to negotiate with Rosie for the next season. I deliberately had nothing to do with the negotiations. I didn’t want another Star Jones experience, where the network made the decision and I took the blame
. By now I understood Rosie better and hoped she would come back. However, ABC Daytime and Rosie’s representatives came to an impasse, and in April 2007, Rosie announced that she would not be returning to The View. I was disappointed, but unlike Star’s departure, this announcement was all very amicable. Rosie said she would stay on the program until the end of June. We went on with business as usual.
Then came Wednesday, May 23. Joy said on the air that she thought George Bush should be impeached. Elisabeth defended Bush, and the beginning arguments were relatively civil—until Rosie jumped in. For several weeks Rosie had been expressing the thought that by invading Iraq, we Americans could also be considered terrorists. Some people, especially Bush supporters, took this to mean that she had said our troops were terrorists. Rosie never meant that. But as various viewers and critics began accusing her of that, she demanded that day that Elisabeth, who she felt represented the conservative point of view, defend her against these accusations. (It was similar to her demanding that I defend her against the remarks she had made about Donald Trump.)
Elisabeth responded by saying Rosie should defend her own remarks. Tempers became inflamed. There was name-calling and shouting. The accusations back and forth grew stronger. It was horrendous to watch. I know. I was not on the program that day, but I was at home watching. I called the control room and told them to go to commercial. It didn’t happen. The shouting match went on. Bill Geddie later said if he had gone to commercial while Rosie was still talking, she might very well have walked off the set and that would have been worse.
Finally, thank heaven, we did go to commercial, and when we came back there was a guest, Alicia Silverstone, to be interviewed and the program went back to normal. But great harm had been done. That night every news program carried the screaming match, as did all the morning news programs. Everyone loved this catfight of all catfights. Elisabeth was in despair. She never expected such a confrontation. Rosie, I am sure, must also have been miserable.
The afternoon of the outburst, Rosie announced that since the next day, Thursday, was Kelli’s fortieth birthday (it really was), she would be taking the day off. I moderated the Thursday show and opened the program by saying, “Auntie Barbara is back. There is peace in the kingdom.” But as luck or irony would have it, President Bush gave a press conference on immigration at 11:00 a.m., and our program was not seen in most of the country. My attempt at peace and humor went unnoticed.
We were about to go off on the long Memorial Day weekend and had pretaped our Friday and Monday shows. (If I write another book, remembering that the Trump business also happened during a Christmas week holiday, I may title it My Holiday Misadventures.) Holiday or not, the network and I waited anxiously to hear whether Rosie was coming back to the program to finish her last three weeks.
Finally the word came. Rosie e-mailed me that she would not be coming back to The View. She gave no reason for leaving the program. What a way to end her year with us. ABC put out a brief statement on its Web site. Brian Frons, the president of ABC Daytime, thanked her “for her tremendous contribution to The View.” I wrote in part that “I had brought Rosie to the show and she contributed to one of our most exciting and successful years.” Rosie’s press representative issued a statement from Rosie that said she was “extremely grateful” and added, “It has been an amazing year and I love all three women.”
So there it was. I felt exhausted and sad. I e-mailed Rosie and said so. “I am very sorry that you decided not to come back but you must have felt it best for you and your family. I want you to know that my admiration and affection for you will remain unchanged.” I meant it.
In the fall of 2007, however, I almost changed my mind when Rosie published a book called Celebrity Detox. She sent me an advance copy with a handwritten note proclaiming: “Here’s my book. I hope you like it. Remember Barbara Walters, I love you for real.” When I read the note I smiled, but when I read her book I wanted to cry. Rosie once more called me a liar who betrayed her when it came to the Donald Trump feud. (Will she ever get over him?) Other harsh and insulting accusations, some logical, some off the wall, filled page after page. Mixed up in the criticisms were protestations of love. It was such a seesaw of emotions that I didn’t know how to answer her.
I am not a Pollyanna, but I truly believe that Rosie did not intend to hurt me. She herself must have come to regret what she’d written, because she canceled most of her television interviews promoting the book. She also sent me a series of long, tender e-mails. I was touched by them and did finally respond. I can’t be mad at Rosie for long.
Rosie is, at heart, a remarkable and loving woman. She has admirable personal values, and if she sometimes overreacts, it is out of her misplaced rage, hurt, and passionate convictions.
However, I admit that along with the sadness I felt when Rosie left The View, I also acknowledge some relief. The roller-coaster ride was over. We would take a deep breath and start a new chapter of The View.
But now came the question of where we would possibly find another high-profile, smart, funny, and savvy TV person. Brainstorm. Whoopi Goldberg. Whoopi had appeared on The View something like twenty times over the years. Whenever we needed a special guest, we called on Whoopi. Now she was living in New York and doing an early-morning radio show. Could she, would she, also do The View?
She could. She would.
Our eleventh season began on September 4, 2007, the day after Labor Day. The audience went wild when Whoopi walked onstage. She sat down next to Joy and became a joy all to herself. Whoopi has such wisdom along with her humor. She is mellow and at the same time contributes to the edginess the program needs. We had made the perfect choice.
The following week, we announced that we were adding another permanent member to the cast. There would be no more different cohosts each day. Sherri Shepherd, a stand-up comedian, was becoming a favorite on our program. Like Whoopi, she had appeared on The View many times. She is divorced with a little boy, good-natured, down-to-earth, and naturally funny. With the two new additions to our panel, once more our ratings have soared. Joy, who has been on The View since day one, continues to add her own special brand of intelligence and humor. And Elisabeth is not only a lovely person off camera and on, but she more than holds her own, even when the whole panel might disagree with her. Believe me, it ain’t easy. But it works. Indeed, almost a dozen years since The View made its debut, the program is more successful than ever.
Bill and I wanted The View to return to its roots as the program you could sit back and watch while sipping your second cup of coffee, and hear different opinions, on different subjects, from different women. Most of all we wanted everyone to just have a really good time. We are.
Exit
THE VIEW WAS A big part of my life, but not the biggest. What I was really known for was my work on 20/20, ABC’s newsmagazine. But I was about to change all that.
On Monday, January 26, 2004, after twenty-five years on 20/20, I made the announcement that I was leaving the program. My contract still had two and a half years to go, and it was assumed that when it ended I would renew it for another five years. I left totally voluntarily. I had told no one of my decision except David Westin, president of ABC News, and Bill Carter, the leading television reporter of the New York Times. As planned, Bill Carter broke the story in his paper. This is how he put it:
After conducting some of the most memorable television interviews of the last quarter-century for the ABC newsmagazine 20/20, Barbara Walters has decided to leave as co-anchor of the program.
Ms. Walters has informed the president of ABC News, David Westin, that she will step down from 20/20 in September, and plans to scale back her workload to five or six news specials each year, including her highly rated Oscar night interviews, in addition to her regular appearances on The View, the ABC show she created. ABC News is expected to announce her departure from 20/20 today.
It was a big story in the television industry. Almost no one expected it. How to explain? W
ell, shortly after, for the same paper, the reporter Virginia Heffernan wrote what she called my “Exit Interview.” Here is part of that article:
HEFFERNAN: You’ve been at 20/20 for twenty-five years. Why are you leaving now?
WALTERS: I wanted to leave at the top. I had a sensational year including the second interview with Martha Stewart. Newsmagazines in general are somewhat in jeopardy. I didn’t want anyone to say, “She was forced out. She had to leave.”
HEFFERNAN: But have you gotten tired of television news?
WALTERS: It’s changing. For example: we’re going to hear that a woman had a love affair with a frog. The producers are going to come to me and say, “Barbara, this woman had a love affair with a frog. Diane Sawyer already has the woman lined up. Do you want to do the frog?” And I will say, “O.K., but only if I can get the frog and his mother.” And they’ll say: “But the frog wants an hour. And before you do the frog, the frog is going to do Oprah, O.K.?”
That about summed it up.
But it wasn’t only about the competition from Diane or Oprah or any one person. It was more about the changing nature of the newsmagazines. The hard-news stories we used to report on were few and far between except on CBS’s stalwart 60 Minutes. But that newsmagazine catered to an older audience. 20/20 was after the young—the eighteen-to forty-nine-year-olds. That was the age group advertisers sought out, so increasingly we were after more celebrities, especially those with problems: more murderers and more frogs.
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