Call Me Anna: The Autobiography of Patty Duke by Patty Duke Read Free Book Online Page A

feeling at first that this was a really big part, but after three days of saying things like “Mama!” and “Help!,” in an Italian accent no less, I was thinking, “Is this all there is?”
    I also got a continuing role in a soap called The Brighter Day. It was done live, without a TelePrompTer, and one day I forgot my lines. I had a 104-degree fever and this time I was sick for real. I’d throw up just before I made an entrance and once again after I made an exit. You know, they say when a person is drowning, his whole life flashes in front of him. That’s what happened to me. It was a short life, because I was only a kid, but God, the moment was awful. I was supposed to introduce Hal Holbrook’s character, the Reverend Dennis, but I was so sick I couldn’t remember even that much. I said, “I’ve been with … I’ve been with … I’ve been with …” and I looked over at Hal. He wanted to save me, but the terror was contagious. He had the same scared look on his face I did and now he couldn’t remember his name either. He kept saying, “I’m … I’m … I’m …” and then from nowhere he blurted out, “She’s been with—me!”
    I’ve always been grateful that I began acting during what’s come to be known as the “golden age” of live TV. You got to work with terrific people, like playing opposite Myrna Loy and dancing with Ed Wynn in “Meet Me in St. Louis,” plus there was an excitement about it unlike anything I’ve ever experienced professionally. The electricity in the studio the date the show was going on the air built and built and built all day long, till it was “Fifteen seconds, stand by,” at which point, of course, I had to go to the bathroom but couldn’t. Being on those elite shows like the Armstrong Circle Theater, The U.S. Steel Hour, David Susskind Presents, and the Hallmark Hall of Fame was a real high, scary as hell and fun, all at the same time.
    Most of the time, I appeared in TV versions of theclassics and those were wonderful for me. In “The Prince and the Pauper” in 1957 I was a little girl in a loft, watching the sun bounce off the windowpanes and having a conversation with the prince. I had my hair down for once and I was wearing a long peasant dress, so I thought it was all very romantic, a feeling I’ve always loved.
    The next year came something even better, “Wuthering Heights,” starring Richard Burton and Rosemary Harris. Even today, the romance of that story is really transporting. If I watch the Laurence Olivier/Merle Oberon version on late night TV, I can’t go out of the house the next day because my eyes are so red. And Richard Burton was, well, Burton, bigger than life and exciting to look at. I played Cathy as a child and even though I was crazy about Rosemary Harris, who was the older Cathy, I also resented it when it was time for her to take over. I wanted to do those love scenes with Richard Burton.
    Besides Burton, what I really enjoyed about “Wuthering Heights” was the rain. Heathcliff kept running away, I’d follow him, and it would rain and rain on the moors during our preteen love scenes. But if you want to talk serious rain, there was “The Swiss Family Robinson” later in 1957. We created a real hurricane, with trees blowing over, the treehouse swaying as if it were going to collapse, monkeys and all kinds of exotic birds flying around. The wind machines were turned on, then the rain, and we all climbed up rope ladders. I cried out, “Help me! Help me! Help me!”
    All of a sudden everything stopped and David Susskind, the producer, ran out, grabbed me, and said, very concerned, “What’s the matter, honey, what’s the matter?”
    “What?”
    “What’s the matter, honey?”
    “I’m acting!”
    What could he say but “Oh.” I felt like such a fool. He turned and walked away, but the whole place fell apart. “I’m acting! Get out of the way!” Oh, brother.
    Walter Pidgeon was the star of that show and I