BENEATH THE SPOTLIGHT

I knew an actress, once. Not comely, at least not at her age, except for bright, blue eyes. Intense charisma was her gift. She played the matriarch on a soap opera where I worked as an intern. My adventure began when in college I arranged a for-credit opportunity during a tour of CBS studios, on 57th Street in those days. The internship would be the usual gopher job, lucky to get as two other students from other colleges had been given June & July. The show had been that popular. 

My stint began August 1. Good timing as the assistant producer assigned me the welcome task of calling the RSVP list for the show’s 30^th anniversary party. Surprisingly, I rarely got an agent, a few assistants here and there. Some actors who had gone on to the big screen, greeted a shy, young woman with kindness. The producers also invited me to attend the anniversary celebration on The Peking (since decommissioned as an entertainment vessel) at South Street Seaport. I had special respect for the Executive Producer, Mary-Ellis Bunim who went on to produce the groundbreaking MTV reality series, The Real World. Ms. Bunim had a glass-ceiling assertiveness necessary to later succeed, and yet, she never raised her voice. I learned from her about resilience. Sadly, she died too young from breast cancer. What a future she had.

With all the glitz and glamor I encountered, and a couple of heartthrobs whose careers nosedived (or more tragically stopped in their tracks due to AIDS) I tried to do my job without showing my starstruck butterflies. Some more well-known actors, then, were Robert Goulet’s daughter, Nicolette, Cindy (now Cynthia) Gibb, and an actor, Christopher Atkins who starred with Brooke Shields in The Blue Lagoon,  Strange, how I remember almost every day, each person, including the staff.

But Mary Stuart—I never knew if that had been her stage or real name, so dramatic I thought at the time—had been the anchor of Search for Tomorrow from its inception. One of the producers introduced me to the cast during a weekly meeting, but Ms. Stuart didn’t attend. Being in college, I had become aware of just how popular daytime serials were as I’d never seen a show until I’d come back from class and our house television would be turned on to the latest, more popular sagas. When the opportunity arrived to learn the ins and outs of television, I jumped at the chance. Of course, I had to do my homework. After binge watching the show, we did have VCRs then, I felt prepared. Nerves aside, the only actress whom I had felt daunted to meet was Ms. Stuart. I don’t know why. Her age? No, other long-timers performed on the soap. What the actress had more than most: supreme confidence. No neuroses, at least that I heard of or saw. No bad habits or manners. Strangers who’d meet her sometimes seemed taken aback by her presence. Ms. Stuart demonstrated professional courtesy without sanguine stroking or ego-driven dismissiveness. Being true to herself kept Mary Stuart grounded.

One day, I went down to the CBS cafeteria for lunch. I couldn’t find a seat, saw Ms. Stuart sitting against the wall with a chair in front of her, and as I struggled to overcome my insecurities and said, “Hello, Ms. Stuart.” I heard a deep, strong voice reply: “Would you like to join me, Wendy?” Wow, she even knew my name. I couldn’t remember how many times I had to say my name to other actors, producers and crew during my tenure. Here sat the accepted queen of daytime soap operas (at the time) inviting me to sit with her. I sat down thanking her and smiled. Then, she returned the gesture. Those blue eyes sparkled with warmth; her coiffed hair looked softer in this light, and her perfect posture rounded at the shoulders. Mary Stuart welcomed me into her world. I dared not ask personal questions. Instead, we discussed the show and what I’d learned since I’d been there for two weeks. She kept the conversation going by asking me questions, whereas I’d stammer a few reverential comments: “Such an honor to work with you,” for example. Of course, the actress had had these talks with others, who could guess how many times; however, for twenty minutes or more, I believed what I had to say had worth.

In 2002, I read in the newspaper that she had died. I learned that she had worked for Warner-Bros. under contract for three years before television. She been in movies with Errol Flynn and Clark Gable! In fact, I just discovered her studio photo on the Internet, I hardly recognize her: beautiful, nonetheless, hauntingly sad—a caged starlet whose wings had been clipped. 

When I saw the obit in the NY Times, I recalled seeing the last episode of Mary Stuart’s show, for that’s what many called, Search for Tomorrow. A great flood swept Henderson and along with it most of the town. As Ms. Stuart huddled behind a sheltered barricade, I thought I saw tears, not raindrops, in her eyes. The daytime serial that had been her life was ending. She retired but returned to television, 1996, in another soap opera, working until her death. She also hadn’t sacrificed love for her career. Ms. Stuart found love, a second marriage, around the same time Search for Tomorrow ended.

So, why write about her at this point? Simple. For one moment, a woman of substance gave a young woman a nudge in the right direction. Nostalgia unexpected, as I hadn’t thought about the actress for a long time. She popped into my mind without a trigger. Funny how writing about the past clarifies the present. I have had many older women friends since I graduated the following year from college. Maybe that’s the gift the matriarch bequeathed me, reverence for a life well-lived. Thank you, Mary Stuart.