All My Life: A Memoir

327 Pages·2011·5.23 MB·English

by  Susan Lucci

All My Life
A Memoir
Susan Lucci
with Laura Morton
To Helmut, Liza, and Andreas—who are my world
Contents
Introduction: The Streak Is Over
1. Born to Perform
2. Marymount College
3. You’re Too Ethnic-Looking
4. Hello, New York
5. The Early Days of All My Children
6. Being Erica Kane
7. Blended Lives
8. From All My Children to All of My Children
9. Annie Get Your Gun
Photographic Insert I
10. Life Is a Cabaret
11. The Cycle of Life
12. Celebrations
13. That Elusive Emmy
14. The Inner Sanctum
Photographic Insert II
15. Dancing with the Stars
16. Africa
17. Good-bye, New York
18. Looking Back to Go Forward
19. A Fan Letter to My Fans
My Favorite Things
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
INTRODUCTION
The Streak Is Over
“T
HE STREAK IS OVER!”
When I heard the very charming Shemar Moore utter those now-famous
words onstage, my first thought was that he was announcing some play-off score
for the audience. I had been to many charity events over the years where the MC
kept the crowd up to speed on important sports scores, so I honestly didn’t
realize what was happening. The truth is, after my ninth Emmy loss, I couldn’t
hear the name of the person who won anymore. I would become numb as the
winner was called out because, well, I had lost so many times. Was it self-
protection? I think it must have been. But the way I always knew I didn’t win
was when somebody else stood up and made her way to the stage. Everybody in
the audience, including me, was applauding and looking at her—not at me.
The Emmys that year were held at the Paramount Theatre inside Madison
Square Garden because Radio City Music Hall, the usual location, was being
renovated. Madison Square Garden is one of New York’s great landmarks, so it
was exhilarating to attend the awards there as a change from the usual venue.
My husband and I walked the red carpet, where we were greeted by the press
and many dear, upbeat fans. I was invigorated by their enthusiasm but was doing
everything I could to keep myself calm.
“Susan, who are you wearing tonight?” one entertainment reporter asked.
I was wearing a beautiful white silk Badgley Mischka gown. It had a tracing
of platinum and a sprinkling of crystal beads. I also had gorgeous Fred Leighton
chandelier earrings on and was carrying a matching Judith Leiber beaded bag.
My husband, Helmut, and I made our way into the theater, where we were
seated in the front row next to Rosie O’Donnell, who was to my left. I had
enjoyed appearing on Rosie’s show a few times. She was always very warm and
gracious, though I didn’t know her that well. We greeted each other and then she
leaned over to me and said, “Susan, when you go up onstage tonight to claim
your Emmy, why don’t you give me your evening bag. Otherwise, when they
announce your name, you’ll be very excited, you’ll stand up, and you’ll step all
over that gorgeous bag and that won’t look pretty on TV.”
“Oh, thank you, Rosie,” I said. “That is so nice of you, but history has taught
me that I am probably not going up there tonight. I am a hopeful person, but past
shows have proved that it’s likely I won’t win.” Then we both nervously laughed
at the obvious.
Even after Shemar shouted, “SUSAN LUCCI!” I remained seated. I didn’t
hear him call my name.
The only way I knew I had won was that Rosie reached over and grabbed
my bag. It finally clicked that Shemar was referring to me when he said, “The
streak is over.” Of course, I was in total shock. This was the first time my name
was mentioned after the envelope had been opened. I could barely muster up the
strength to stand on my very wobbly legs or to hug Helmut, who had to literally
pick me up by my elbow.
I leaned into Helmut and whispered, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said as he gallantly escorted me to the stairs leading to the stage.
I slowly walked up each step trying to remember what I thought I might say,
you know, just in case. I rarely prepared an acceptance speech—it seemed
unnecessary after nineteen nominations and eighteen losses. I was so weak in the
knees as I walked toward the podium, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to
stand.
Okay. I will admit that the night before the awards ceremony, for the first
time in quite a while, I began to think there was a possibility that maybe this
would be my year. The media certainly held out great hope. Plus, it had been a
good year for the show. My story line was very strong. It primarily revolved
around Erica’s intervention with a then-eleven-year-old Bianca, my daughter on
All My Children, who was struggling with an eating disorder. The scenes were
wonderfully written and so many people were saying that they thought the
performances and the writing were deserving. Yet I had heard that sentiment
many times in the past, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. But if, for
some reason, it was meant to be, I didn’t want the moment to go by without
thanking the people who mattered most. So, just before falling asleep the night
before, I mentally created my list, you know, on the off chance.
By the time I reached the center of the stage, I finally had the courage to turn
around and face the audience for the very first time. Everyone in the room was
on their feet, cheering. I saw all of my peers in the industry crying and rejoicing
in this moment with me. It felt as if it were a collective win for all of us. I
watched in awe as Rosie O’Donnell, Marcy Walker, Leeza Gibbons, Gayle King,
Kelly Ripa, Mark Consuelos, Peter Bergman, and my wonderful costar David
Canary, and all of the tremendously talented women who were also nominated
that night helped me soak in that unforgettable moment. I was so taken aback by
their generosity, love, and support.
The standing ovation went on for what felt like forever, and in TV terms I
suppose it was—it lasted four very long minutes. Dick Clark later told me it was
some kind of award-show record. I was especially grateful that he, as one of the
executive producers, had allowed that beautiful, wonderful applause to continue
on because in that time, I was able to get over my cream-cheese legs, catch my
breath, gain a little bit of my composure, and miraculously remember the
thoughts I had collected for this very moment while in bed the night before.
“Thank you.
“Thank you very much.
“I can’t believe it.
“You are so kind.” I tried to start speaking even as I struggled to fight back
my tears of joy, but the audience kept cheering. I took a step away from the
microphone and looked stage right, where I caught a glimpse of Oprah Winfrey,
who was standing in the wings jumping up and down, clapping and pumping her
fists in the air.
“Oh, Oprah!” I said in total awe. I simply couldn’t believe she was cheering
for me.
Me!
I clutched my precious golden-winged statue against my chest like I was
holding a newborn baby and I began to speak.
“I truly never believed that this would happen. First of all, I want to thank
each and every one of you in this room. This is a roomful of such talented,
hardworking people. And the fact that you have thought that my work was
worthy of notice…
“NINETEEN times…” (this got a good laugh)
“It is something that I will treasure always.
“I thank God for the many, many blessings in my life. For parents that
encouraged me to dream my dreams and who have been sitting in every audience
of my lifetime including tonight.
“For my great teachers: Wynn Handman, the late Harold Clurman, Ron
Weyand, and Inez Norman Spiers, who were so good at teaching and helped me
to grow.
“Agnes Nixon: you changed the face of the medium we work in. I am so
grateful to have been placed in your hands. Thank you so much for creating the
part of Erica Kane and for allowing me to be part of your writing full of so much
humanity and passions and vision.
“I have so many people to thank and they’re telling me to wrap it up.”
The audience let out a loud “NO!” when I said that. I looked down and saw
the beautiful Kelly Ripa, whom I worked with for many years on All My
Children, shaking her head and saying, “Don’t leave. Let her speak!” She was so
adorable.
I continued without regard for the clock.
“I want to thank Joan D’Incecco, the legendary casting director at All My
Children who saw me for more than just an ethnic type and saw that I could play
Erica Kane and for bringing me to Agnes’s attention.
“To the incredible acting company at All My Children with whom I have the
privilege to play these scenes every day. You inspire me. If I’m halfway good it is
because I am afraid I won’t be as good as you!”
It was right about this time that the director began flashing all sorts of lights,
signaling to me that I HAD to wrap things up. But I couldn’t leave the stage
without thanking the most important people of all.
“To my children: to Liza and Andreas. I wasn’t meant to get this award
before tonight because if I had I wouldn’t have that collection of poems and
letters and drawings and balloons and chocolate cakes you made all this time to
make me feel better.
“To my husband: Helmut Huber, who has been with me EVERY…STEP…OF
THE WAY.
“And to the fans: I was only supposed to be on every other Tuesday” (the
audience laughed again) “but thanks to you, I am here and I promise I will try
my best never to let you down. I’m going back to that studio on Monday and am
going to play Erica Kane for all she is worth! Thank you so very much!”
I could hardly wait to get backstage to make three urgent phone calls. I had
already told the producers of the show that if by some miracle I won that night, I
would have to step aside before going to the pressroom so I could call my
children. I knew they must have already heard the good news, yet I really wanted
to hear their voices.
My first call was to my daughter, Liza, who was watching the show from her
home in Los Angeles, having just started her own career on Passions. The
Emmys show hadn’t aired on the West Coast yet, so she hadn’t heard the good
news. When I told her I had won, she was beyond thrilled. Liza has been with
me throughout my entire Emmy journey, ever since she was four years old. She
had experienced all nineteen nominations, but up until that night, had never
experienced what it felt like for me to win. She had only endured the many
losses.
One year I came home to find that Liza had made letters from construction
paper and had placed a word on every step of the winding staircase that leads up
to my bedroom. The message read, “We love you, Mommy. You are the best
actress in the whole wide world!” When I got to my room, I was greeted with a
bouquet of balloons that she had tied to the bedpost. Liza would enlist her
brother Andreas’s help in any way that he could participate. He is five years
younger than Liza, so he generally helped with decorating the many cakes,
brownies, and other goodies they’d bake together so I would have a treat waiting
for me when I got home. With all of the losses over the years, thanks to my
children, there really were so many wins.
Win or lose, I always went back to work and continued to do my best to play
this incredible character, Erica Kane—a role I was lucky enough to have been
given, and the real reason why I’ve always persevered in the face of defeat, why
I’ve pushed on time and time again.
I know it sounds clichéd, but the nominations alone really meant a lot to me.
Whether or not I won, I never felt like I ever had anything to truly lose. Plus, it’s
not like the Emmy was mine to lose, because I had never taken the trophy home
—at least not until 1999. From my perspective, I wasn’t relinquishing some title
all of those years because the title hadn’t been mine in the first place.
After so many nominations, I realized that I had to stop getting myself
whipped into a frenzy every year around award season. It was easy to get caught
up in the thunderous support I received from the press and the fans of All My
Children, who were always so hopeful for me. Their never-ending enthusiasm
was very moving. What was really amazing to me was that there were so many
people who were determined that I get that award. And yet I was afraid that
somehow, all of this attention felt unfair to those who did win each year. They
were all talented, hardworking people who deserved the honor in every way. I
certainly didn’t want to take anything away from their achievements.
I’d heard rumblings over the years that some people thought I should be
happy for not winning because an actress couldn’t pay for the type of publicity I
was receiving. There were many who thought I might even be in on it, like my
continuous losing was somehow fixed. Naturally, that was absurd, but it didn’t
stop people from talking. I was astounded at these suggestions, because God
only knows, I wanted to win.
I really wanted to win.
After Liza and I spoke briefly backstage, I immediately called my son,
Andreas, who was watching with friends in New York. Lastly, I telephoned my
mother, who was in Palm Beach and who is my biggest cheerleader. I just had to
share my excitement with them all. By this time, my husband had made his way
backstage. I am always comforted when Helmut is standing by my side. After I
finished my calls, Helmut and I continued on to the pressroom to face the media