of Natural History, Dana shared a modest apartment with her sister. It was not long before Dana was spending nearly all her time at Chris’s apartment.
They quickly discovered that there were some differences in their approach to housekeeping. “My side of the bed is neat,” ob- served Chris, whose passion for order would soon get on Dana’s nerves. “Hers looks like a yard sale. Sometimes it gets to me and I say, ‘Clutter alert.’ ”
He may have been a household name, but Chris, like Dana, was now forced to audition for every role. With one exception. Asked to join a TV ad campaign for Maidenform Bra that included the likes of Pierce Brosnan, Omar Sharif, and Michael York, Super- man agreed—and gratefully pocketed the $300,000 fee.
Chris and Dana hied away to Williamstown once more, de- termined to enjoy a quiet Thanksgiving holiday at their idyllic New England retreat. The last thing they had on their minds was political turmoil in South America. But when exiled Chilean writer Ariel Dorfman phoned him in Williamstown and requested his help, Chris was eager to hear what he had to say.
Ever since General Augusto Pinochet seized power in Chile in 1973, anyone who dared speak out against his regime feared imprisonment, torture, or worse; by the fall of 1987, thousands
of Chileans had been executed, assassinated—or simply disap- peared. Now Pinochet had ordered seventy-seven actors in the capital city of Santiago to leave the country by November 30 or face execution.
The seventy-seven condemned actors were standing their ground, and now an international group of actors was being as- sembled by Amnesty International to stand beside them as the deadline approached. Dorfman asked Chris if he was willing to be the group’s sole U.S. member. Chris sat on the governing council of Actors’ Equity, but more important, as Superman he was recognized the world over as a symbol of truth, justice, and democracy.
The mission was not without its risks. Pinochet’s henchmen had shown no compunction about assassinating foes of the regime. Chris asked Dana what she thought.
“You really don’t have any choice, Chris,” she said without hesitating. “Do it.”
During his week-long visit to Santiago, Chris was scheduled to speak at a rally in support of the actors threatened with execution. More than seven thousand people packed Santiago’s Santa Laura Stadium, but when police turned fire hoses on the crowd, the rally moved to an abandoned parking garage in another part of the city. Pinochet’s forces encircled the building, tear-gassing the overflow crowd and awaiting orders to open fire. Those orders never came. Instead, inside the garage there were poetry readings and tele- grams from abroad proclaiming solidarity with the actors. The high point came when Chris stood up to declare support among
U.S. citizens for Chile’s embattled artistic community. When he finished with the promise to return to the United States and tell
his countrymen what “brave and beautiful people you are,” the crowd erupted in cheers. “Superman! Superman!” they chanted. The next day, several South American newspapers carried sto- ries pitting Chris against one of the region’s most feared strong- men. “SUPERMAN VS. PINOCHET” screamed one headline, while another read “SUPERMAN TO THE RESCUE!” Sev- eral underground newspapers ran editorial cartoons showing Chris in full Superman garb, taking on a bloated, bemedaled,
jackbooted Pinochet.
In the end, the dreaded November 30 deadline passed without any of the threatened executions taking place. Less than five months later, Pinochet would bow to pressure and resign the pres- idency. Dorfman, among others, would give Reeve some of the credit for starting the ball rolling. “To many, Christopher Reeve and Superman are inseparable,” he said. “To think that Superman is on your side, even on a subconscious level, is a powerful thing. Chris gave the people of Chile hope at a
Jan (ILT) J. C.; Gerardi Greenburg