I am a new member, and in an earlier post on the defunct, "Best of Everything," I mentioned that I had also watched "Secret Storm" as a youngster during my grammer school years. It's neat to see such young people expressing what I hope is a genuine interest in the program, (and rather surprising for me--as I have a nephew who's 20). In any case, Carl and Amello both very kindly requested further dope on the show, and at the risk of dating myself, (I'm 53) I will be happy to oblige. This is off the cuff, stream of memory posting rather than an in depth plot synopsis, which I would be, in any case, unable to completely supply, and which I believe has been documented in several books available at the public library.
"Secret Storm" aired in the late afternoon, and, thus, like the "Edge of Night" was comparatively easy to see after returning home from school. (depending on any number of other factors, such as haircuts, dental appts. etc)--my point being, that in those pre-VCR days, there was no such thing as "time-shifting" so that what you missed--you missed! Nor, were there newspaper soap synopsis, which are common in the TV pages of many daily's today.
I suppose, the best place to begin is the line up of players as I recall them, which I am sure, will leave out many worthy people--but the ones that really stuck in this then kids' impressions.
Marjorie Gateson, a veteran of stage and screen, who looked like a rather more aristocratic version of movie actress Helen Twelvetrees, (who was before my time!--but you can research her and get photos on the WEB) was I would say "the star" in terms of her centrality, when I began seeing it in the mid 60's. Those of you reading this, can "see" Marjorie Gateson via Cable TV or home video, as she appeared in many films of the 30's and 40's in roles that somewhat anticipated her performance as "Grace Tyrrel" on "Secret Storm", (hereinafter SS). She was in fact, the genteel, grande dame, of a type no longer in existence in our "popular culture" as they say.
By way of a side bar, (and I say this in reference to Carl's kind reference to the Guiding Light clips, which I watched and brought back many memories--Lynne Adams, and Fran Myers, (who always specialized in these neurotic scenes)GL was very much of a middle class show, that is, the Bauers, with Old World Papa, hard drinking, (and despite the necktie, blue-collerish Ed)--strong medical/hospital tie ins, department store furniture, and with women in the cast that looked like women in one's own neighborhood--not, (at least in the 60's--it changed later I'm told) a glamourous show.
SS was not that way. Its tone or flavor if you prefer, was altogether upper crust, its fictional setting, "Woodbridge" would have been more like Westchester, Ct--well heeled matrons with sucessfull husbands, comparatively chic settings, with antiques etc. Not that there weren't characters from lower rank-there were, I'm just referring to the tone.
Which leads me back to Miss Gateson (Grace Tyrrel), who was the heiress and controller of Tyrell's Department Store. Grace led a gracious life, and had the kind of flawless diction what doesn't hear anymore. Her maid was none other than Margaret Hamilton, (yes the Wicked Witch of the West) who would do SS during the day when she was appearing at night on the Broadway stage, (very common at the time for daytime actors to be on stage at night--how did they ever learn their lines!!!)
I can see, Grace Tyrrell in one of her expensive dark suits, or "daytime dresses" trying to reason with her willful daughter--Pauline as they both sat before the silver tea service with Margaret Hamilton serving in full maid's uniform (the movie buffs amongst you may know that M. Hamilton frequently played domestics on screen and stage).
The "Woodbridge" context then, was of a conservative town, where "quiet" wealth counted, and reputations mattered. Today it would be called snobbish.
Now, in Pauline, the ever hand wringing, (or should I say handkerchief wringing since women still carried embroidered handkerchiefs) Grace--had a tigress by the tail.
And not really by the tail, since Pauline almost always had her own way! By the time I watched Pauline, (played by Haila Stoddard--one of the really formidable stage actresses of the 20th century--in the original cast of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf"--she also moonlighted)Pauline was married to Arthur Rysdale, who was the publisher of "The Wooodbridge Clarion" the town's leading newspaper.
Pauline, (very nordic, blonde, and stylish with an almost little girlish voice that concealed a real schemer--think of sort of a blonde Tallulah Bankhead type) was always "up to something". And it was hard to imagine her as Grace's daughter--since Grace was so virtuous (rebellion I suppose).
In the mid 60's, Pauline's son Kip Rysedale, was very much front and center, and involved with several of the women in the cast, all of whom were vying for him. Nice looking, in an earnest, polite way, Kip loved Amy Ames, and Janet Hill (Bibi Besch) simultaneously, before he was written out, by being called up to military service, in Germany, and later Vietnam, (though he wanted to be a doctor). Kip was the object of much attention during the 1964-1966 time span and was on very frequently. He is also, of a type, I think a vanished breed today, well bred, well spoken, well coiffed, and in a neck tie usually--and very young--say 25 or so.
Bibi Besch, played Janet Hill, and I can't remember exactly how she came into the cast, but she was very much a trouble maker and was married to a man named Bob Hill, whom I remember, but not too much about. She was related to Valerie Hill, (more on her later) who married Peter Ames.
Sorry this is so disorganized--rather stream of consciousness, but bear with me.
Peter Ames, had of course, been at the very beginning of the show, some ten years before I joined it. As you may know, he was a widower, with two children Jerry and Amy Ames.
By the time I was SS, Peter Ames was played by Ward Costello. Peter had a VERY troubled history with Pauline, which was still very rough in the mid 60s, and included hostility to Valerie Hill, (because Peter loved her and not Pauline.
His children, Jerry, Susan and Amy were continuing focal points, (particularly Amy) for nearly 20 years.
Valerie Hill, (played by Lori March) is probably the woman I most associate with SS during the period I watched. She came on about the time I started to watch, and was on when I stopped, (Marjorie Gateson had a stroke in 68 and never came back). At that time, (no longer I believe) the CBS serials had a heroine, usually a woman in early middle age, who was attractive, and a paragon of virtue. At that time, (and in order to distance her from the schemers and vixens) the heroine embodied honor, nobility and chastity. She was the woman, the female viewers viewed as "their sister" and with whom they would commisserate with.
Lori March was SS's heroine in the second half of the 60's. Her speaking voice was creme de la creme--she was "finishing school" material, and so it was, perfectly natural, that long widowed Peter Ames would marry her, which he did, (and I can remember the wedding with her little pillbox hat and veil). Jerry and Amy took to Valerie, though Susan had reservations.
Now to Peter's children.
Jerry was an amiable young man in the second half of the 60's--I remember his presence, but nothing very particular. His sister's however, now that's a different story.
Susan Ames, (Dunbar--married to Allan Dunbar when I watched) was a complicated woman. The role was played by Judy Lewis during my days as a viewer. Miss Lewis was the daughter of screen super star Loretta Young. Though supposedly adopted, I always felt that Miss Lewis looked much like her famous Mom, and it has since been suggested that she was in fact really her natural daughter.
Susan was a fascinating lady, deep, ruminative, attractive, but very reserved and not quick to shower affection on Valerie or anyone else. When I started the show, she was married to Allan Dunbar, (can't remember who played him first--sorry) who had a drinking problem. I remember Allan pouring liquor from cut glass decanters in the middle of the day--he also got sent to Vietnamn--and was declared dead--which lead the way to Susan and Frank Carver, (Laurence Luckenbill). She had a little blonde son, named after her father and called "Petie" who was featured quite often.
Am going to have to run off in a minute--getting a bit exhausted as it heads toward 1:00 a.m. here--will have to pick up on more later--we'll get to Amy(Jada Rowland), Belle (!) (played by beautiful Marla Adams), Joan Crawford, Belle's daughter Robin, movie star Troy Donahue, (yes he was on as a villain--and what an end he met).
SS was moody, really moody and that's not a cliche--it was serious--and didn't pander too much to an audience craving stupidity. Scenes were intense and the acting was good. The sets were evocative and I remember details of the homes, (Valerie's particularly) since I was interested in set design at that time. And every living room had a stocked bar, with a loaded ice bucket and tongs! for mid afternoon "jolts". I once asked my mother why our liquor wasn't out, and "ready always" like it was in Woodbridge.
And the clothes. The feminine viewers must have had a field day at the elegant wardbrobes, (women didn't wear slacks then--jewelry, heels, the works--every day. So noted were the clothes on SS, that the New York Times wrote a feature article in 1964, on the kinds of dresses sported by the different generations of players, (Grace, Valerie, Pauline, Susan, and Amy were all photographed for it)--sometimes the actresses liked them so much they bought them for themselves).
I have several stark memories, one of which I'll close with.
October 1966--A character by the name of Brooke Ames is causing major trouble. Brooke is a villainous par excellence and she really has it in for Valerie. Can't remember her origins or what her particular plot motivations were. But one scene I'll never forget.
Brooke, (a very expensive looking model type with Scavullo style lips and hair in a tight chignon) takes a pair of scissors out of the drawer, and stabs her hand. As she wraps her bleeding finger, she phones Valerie.
I can still remember parts of the dialogue: "Valerie, can you come over--I've just cut myself pruning some roses and I haven't an antiseptic in the house" She smiles in tight close up as Val agrees to come and she hangs up the phone.
Valerie arrives and moments later the confrontation with Val that Brooke wanted ensues.
Brooke spews all her venom at Valerie, at which Valerie says, "Brooke you haven't a sparkle of honesty in you".
At this, Brooke picks up a letter opener from the desk and tries to stab Val. In the struggle between the two women that follows, Valerie accidentally stabs Brooke who falls to the floor dead.
"Brooke, Brooke...Oh Dear Heaven" Val turns to survey the dissaray the fight has created, cups her hand to her mouth and flees...the organist really had a job on his hand that days, as the throbbing chords punctuated Val's flight.
No less than famous British writer Alec Waugh, (brother of Evelyn, "Brideshead Revisited" Waugh) wrote an article in the "National Review" about his addiction to "Secret Storm" at this time, and how he dreaded leaving the US to return to England since he would have to miss it, and his friends would have to keep him up on the plot on transatlantic telephone calls. It had an appeal to intellectuals.
Don't know whether this disorganized rant has been any help. Hope so. And please excuse typos as I was rushing.
I am a new member, and in an earlier post on the defunct, "Best of Everything," I mentioned that I had also watched "Secret Storm" as a youngster during my grammer school years. It's neat to see such young people expressing what I hope is a genuine interest in the program, (and rather surprising for me--as I have a nephew who's 20). In any case, Carl and Amello both very kindly requested further dope on the show, and at the risk of dating myself, (I'm 53) I will be happy to oblige. This is off the cuff, stream of memory posting rather than an in depth plot synopsis, which I would be, in any case, unable to completely supply, and which I believe has been documented in several books available at the public library.
"Secret Storm" aired in the late afternoon, and, thus, like the "Edge of Night" was comparatively easy to see after returning home from school. (depending on any number of other factors, such as haircuts, dental appts. etc)--my point being, that in those pre-VCR days, there was no such thing as "time-shifting" so that what you missed--you missed! Nor, were there newspaper soap synopsis, which are common in the TV pages of many daily's today.
I suppose, the best place to begin is the line up of players as I recall them, which I am sure, will leave out many worthy people--but the ones that really stuck in this then kids' impressions.
Marjorie Gateson, a veteran of stage and screen, who looked like a rather more aristocratic version of movie actress Helen Twelvetrees, (who was before my time!--but you can research her and get photos on the WEB) was I would say "the star" in terms of her centrality, when I began seeing it in the mid 60's. Those of you reading this, can "see" Marjorie Gateson via Cable TV or home video, as she appeared in many films of the 30's and 40's in roles that somewhat anticipated her performance as "Grace Tyrrel" on "Secret Storm", (hereinafter SS). She was in fact, the genteel, grande dame, of a type no longer in existence in our "popular culture" as they say.
By way of a side bar, (and I say this in reference to Carl's kind reference to the Guiding Light clips, which I watched and brought back many memories--Lynne Adams, and Fran Myers, (who always specialized in these neurotic scenes)GL was very much of a middle class show, that is, the Bauers, with Old World Papa, hard drinking, (and despite the necktie, blue-collerish Ed)--strong medical/hospital tie ins, department store furniture, and with women in the cast that looked like women in one's own neighborhood--not, (at least in the 60's--it changed later I'm told) a glamourous show.
SS was not that way. Its tone or flavor if you prefer, was altogether upper crust, its fictional setting, "Woodbridge" would have been more like Westchester, Ct--well heeled matrons with sucessfull husbands, comparatively chic settings, with antiques etc. Not that there weren't characters from lower rank-there were, I'm just referring to the tone.
Which leads me back to Miss Gateson (Grace Tyrrel), who was the heiress and controller of Tyrell's Department Store. Grace led a gracious life, and had the kind of flawless diction what doesn't hear anymore. Her maid was none other than Margaret Hamilton, (yes the Wicked Witch of the West) who would do SS during the day when she was appearing at night on the Broadway stage, (very common at the time for daytime actors to be on stage at night--how did they ever learn their lines!!!)
I can see, Grace Tyrrell in one of her expensive dark suits, or "daytime dresses" trying to reason with her willful daughter--Pauline as they both sat before the silver tea service with Margaret Hamilton serving in full maid's uniform (the movie buffs amongst you may know that M. Hamilton frequently played domestics on screen and stage).
The "Woodbridge" context then, was of a conservative town, where "quiet" wealth counted, and reputations mattered. Today it would be called snobbish.
Now, in Pauline, the ever hand wringing, (or should I say handkerchief wringing since women still carried embroidered handkerchiefs) Grace--had a tigress by the tail.
And not really by the tail, since Pauline almost always had her own way! By the time I watched Pauline, (played by Haila Stoddard--one of the really formidable stage actresses of the 20th century--in the original cast of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf"--she also moonlighted)Pauline was married to Arthur Rysdale, who was the publisher of "The Wooodbridge Clarion" the town's leading newspaper.
Pauline, (very nordic, blonde, and stylish with an almost little girlish voice that concealed a real schemer--think of sort of a blonde Tallulah Bankhead type) was always "up to something". And it was hard to imagine her as Grace's daughter--since Grace was so virtuous (rebellion I suppose).
In the mid 60's, Pauline's son Kip Rysedale, was very much front and center, and involved with several of the women in the cast, all of whom were vying for him. Nice looking, in an earnest, polite way, Kip loved Amy Ames, and Janet Hill (Bibi Besch) simultaneously, before he was written out, by being called up to military service, in Germany, and later Vietnam, (though he wanted to be a doctor). Kip was the object of much attention during the 1964-1966 time span and was on very frequently. He is also, of a type, I think a vanished breed today, well bred, well spoken, well coiffed, and in a neck tie usually--and very young--say 25 or so.
Bibi Besch, played Janet Hill, and I can't remember exactly how she came into the cast, but she was very much a trouble maker and was married to a man named Bob Hill, whom I remember, but not too much about. She was related to Valerie Hill, (more on her later) who married Peter Ames.
Sorry this is so disorganized--rather stream of consciousness, but bear with me.
Peter Ames, had of course, been at the very beginning of the show, some ten years before I joined it. As you may know, he was a widower, with two children Jerry and Amy Ames.
By the time I was SS, Peter Ames was played by Ward Costello. Peter had a VERY troubled history with Pauline, which was still very rough in the mid 60s, and included hostility to Valerie Hill, (because Peter loved her and not Pauline.
His children, Jerry, Susan and Amy were continuing focal points, (particularly Amy) for nearly 20 years.
Valerie Hill, (played by Lori March) is probably the woman I most associate with SS during the period I watched. She came on about the time I started to watch, and was on when I stopped, (Marjorie Gateson had a stroke in 68 and never came back). At that time, (no longer I believe) the CBS serials had a heroine, usually a woman in early middle age, who was attractive, and a paragon of virtue. At that time, (and in order to distance her from the schemers and vixens) the heroine embodied honor, nobility and chastity. She was the woman, the female viewers viewed as "their sister" and with whom they would commisserate with.
Lori March was SS's heroine in the second half of the 60's. Her speaking voice was creme de la creme--she was "finishing school" material, and so it was, perfectly natural, that long widowed Peter Ames would marry her, which he did, (and I can remember the wedding with her little pillbox hat and veil). Jerry and Amy took to Valerie, though Susan had reservations.
Now to Peter's children.
Jerry was an amiable young man in the second half of the 60's--I remember his presence, but nothing very particular. His sister's however, now that's a different story.
Susan Ames, (Dunbar--married to Allan Dunbar when I watched) was a complicated woman. The role was played by Judy Lewis during my days as a viewer. Miss Lewis was the daughter of screen super star Loretta Young. Though supposedly adopted, I always felt that Miss Lewis looked much like her famous Mom, and it has since been suggested that she was in fact really her natural daughter.
Susan was a fascinating lady, deep, ruminative, attractive, but very reserved and not quick to shower affection on Valerie or anyone else. When I started the show, she was married to Allan Dunbar, (can't remember who played him first--sorry) who had a drinking problem. I remember Allan pouring liquor from cut glass decanters in the middle of the day--he also got sent to Vietnamn--and was declared dead--which lead the way to Susan and Frank Carver, (Laurence Luckenbill). She had a little blonde son, named after her father and called "Petie" who was featured quite often.
Am going to have to run off in a minute--getting a bit exhausted as it heads toward 1:00 a.m. here--will have to pick up on more later--we'll get to Amy(Jada Rowland), Belle (!) (played by beautiful Marla Adams), Joan Crawford, Belle's daughter Robin, movie star Troy Donahue, (yes he was on as a villain--and what an end he met).
SS was moody, really moody and that's not a cliche--it was serious--and didn't pander too much to an audience craving stupidity. Scenes were intense and the acting was good. The sets were evocative and I remember details of the homes, (Valerie's particularly) since I was interested in set design at that time. And every living room had a stocked bar, with a loaded ice bucket and tongs! for mid afternoon "jolts". I once asked my mother why our liquor wasn't out, and "ready always" like it was in Woodbridge.
And the clothes. The feminine viewers must have had a field day at the elegant wardbrobes, (women didn't wear slacks then--jewelry, heels, the works--every day. So noted were the clothes on SS, that the New York Times wrote a feature article in 1964, on the kinds of dresses sported by the different generations of players, (Grace, Valerie, Pauline, Susan, and Amy were all photographed for it)--sometimes the actresses liked them so much they bought them for themselves).
I have several stark memories, one of which I'll close with.
October 1966--A character by the name of Brooke Ames is causing major trouble. Brooke is a villainous par excellence and she really has it in for Valerie. Can't remember her origins or what her particular plot motivations were. But one scene I'll never forget.
Brooke, (a very expensive looking model type with Scavullo style lips and hair in a tight chignon) takes a pair of scissors out of the drawer, and stabs her hand. As she wraps her bleeding finger, she phones Valerie.
I can still remember parts of the dialogue: "Valerie, can you come over--I've just cut myself pruning some roses and I haven't an antiseptic in the house" She smiles in tight close up as Val agrees to come and she hangs up the phone.
Valerie arrives and moments later the confrontation with Val that Brooke wanted ensues.
Brooke spews all her venom at Valerie, at which Valerie says, "Brooke you haven't a sparkle of honesty in you".
At this, Brooke picks up a letter opener from the desk and tries to stab Val. In the struggle between the two women that follows, Valerie accidentally stabs Brooke who falls to the floor dead.
"Brooke, Brooke...Oh Dear Heaven" Val turns to survey the dissaray the fight has created, cups her hand to her mouth and flees...the organist really had a job on his hand that days, as the throbbing chords punctuated Val's flight.
No less than famous British writer Alec Waugh, (brother of Evelyn, "Brideshead Revisited" Waugh) wrote an article in the "National Review" about his addiction to "Secret Storm" at this time, and how he dreaded leaving the US to return to England since he would have to miss it, and his friends would have to keep him up on the plot on transatlantic telephone calls. It had an appeal to intellectuals.
Don't know whether this disorganized rant has been any help. Hope so. And please excuse typos as I was rushing.
All best,
BU