Barely In Time: Confessions of a SIT Extra

By Jo Addie

My story begins with a light bulb idea one day late in April of 1979.  I had a sudden notion how much I wanted to go back to Mackinac Island, with my husband, who had never been there.  My only visit had been when I was 3, and how it impressed me!  Those are my earliest clear memories of my life.  Jim was enthusiastic to the weekend plan and we made our reservations to stay one night at Grand Hotel for a Sunday late in May.  The anticipation I felt to revisit such a magnificent place grew day by day, but even before we left, we learned of something wonderful in the works.  Being both avid film nuts, we'd been watching a movie on TV, and we were discussing the film as the news came on.  Ordinarily, we don't make a point of watching the news, but here was Chicago anchorman Bill Curtis sitting next to--could it be?  I did a double take...."and coming up, we'll have an interview with Christopher Reeve, who's in town making a movie".  We'd both been very impressed with Chris in Superman, so naturally we listened anxiously, and were shocked to hear him say that after 4 days in Chicago, they were off to Mackinac Island to finish the film!  Our trip was only about a week away--would they still be there filming on our weekend?  Would we have the slightest chance to actually see a scene being filmed?  The possibility was so tantalizing.....

Upon our arrival on Mackinac, the whole island was abuzz with talk of "The Movie".  Upon check-in at the Grand, we inquired if the film company was still there, and were happy to hear they were headquartered in what was then called The Inns of Mackinac, (now Mission Point) on the opposite end of the town.  They even suggested we go over there and make inquiries as to what was going on!  No one had to tell us twice.  As we strolled near to the buildings, we saw a strange sight.  Was it actually a CAR on Mackinac--yes, two men were rigging up a little silver roadster with water tanks and sprayers, for a rain scene to be filmed the next day.  As we continued to the production office, we wondered, what are they doing today?  We walked in and met the casting director, Bill O'Hagan, who thought we were asking whether we were needed as extras.  We hadn't even entertained that notion.  We'd come to see if we could watch, but were disappointed to learn they don't work Sundays and since we were only staying through the next day, we would not be needed as extras.  However, he did kindly tell us where filming would take place on Monday, so we planned to be over there bright and early, to watch!

What a fun day it was!  Here we were able to mingle among the crew, to ask questions while they filmed the scene where Richard drives up to Laura Robert's house, to speak to her at the door.  They told us of the whole plot--the portrait obsession, the time travel--oh, it was so enticing!  We couldn't believe the lack of need for security that day--no one was around!  We felt almost like invited guests.  I asked Chris for his autograph during a break.  And I spoke at length to Chris' costumer, Greg Hall, who toward the end of the day, was telling us about the ballroom scene at the Grand, with 200 costumed extras, to be filmed over two nights, coming up in about 12 days.  Starry-eyed, I offhandedly said, "Oh, I'd love to see that", knowing, after all, we were leaving in an hour to go home to the Chicago suburbs.  But Greg said, "Well, why don't you come back? It'll be a closed set, but if you ask for me, I'll make sure you can watch."  The words stunned me. What a concept!  I looked at Jim, who then worked at Chicago's classical music radio station, and he said, "Why not, YOU can go!"

How those days before "the shoot" dragged.  How I floated on the idea of being there--watching all those people dressed in 1912 costume cavorting in the Grand's dining hall, playing out a scene of past opulence.  My excitement grew each day, up to the day before departure.  That Wednesday night, we played racquetball, and oddly enough went on to bowling, and got home around 3 in the morning.  Jim said of my proposed trip, "How are you going to get up at 7, drive all day, and be up all night watching the ballroom scene?"  Still wide awake, I answered, "I won't be tired, my excitement will keep me awake, and maybe I'll get a nap before the filming starts."  Well, when the alarm went off at 7, we were both comatose.  Jim probably turned off the alarm in his sleep.  And when my cat woke me up at 5 minutes to 9, I awoke in a screaming panic.  "It can't be true!  I'm going to miss it", I cried, bursting into tears.  You see, Mackinac is a good 8 hour drive from my home, and at that time of year the last ferry to the island leaves Mackinaw City at 5 pm, and if you're not on that ferry, you don't get on the island that night.  I wasn't even packed.  Jim, my understanding, supportive husband, said, "Go!  Just GO!  If you don't make it, just stay on the mainland and watch the second night."  Not understanding the film business, I shrieked, "Oh, what if they finish everything they need tonight?  I'll still miss it all!"

As I frantically threw stuff into my suitcase, he wrote down the directions, and I was out the door within 15 minutes.  When I left, we thought there was a chance to make it.  But I wasn't on my way a half hour when I realized that 5 o'clock Michigan time is 4 o'clock Chicago time.  I had one less hour than I thought!  It now seemed hopeless.  I couldn't believe it.  My dream was shattered.  I thought of turning back, but I was so worked up, I drove on faster.  On the road, with my map sprawled open on the seat, it appeared that I was making good time, and I started calculating miles per inch and miles per hour.  I figured that if I drove as fast as the car would go, I might make it.  And if I didn't, I'd miss the ferry by minutes.  So on I sped.  I don't like driving fast.  It makes me very tense.  My speedometer only went up to 80, so I have no idea how fast I was going.  I had visions of a police car over every rise, around each bend, waiting to haul me off to jail, for going so fast.  Wouldn't Jim be surprised to hear from me from prison...so before each rise or turn, I slowed for a peek, then resumed my maddening pace.  I pulled into the dock with 12 minutes to spare!  An eight hour drive reduced to six and a half hours.  Jim won't believe it.  I felt like kissing the ground.  And I burst into tears knowing that I would be able to see flowing skirts and tuxedos that night!  On the ferry, I had the worst tension headache of my life.

When I arrived on the island, I checked into my little hotel room and did some necessary freshening up.  Then I walked over to the Inns, my head pounding all the way.  I walked in where the security guard sat, checking the now dressed extras out.  It was 6 pm.  I slumped into a chair to catch my breath.  He recognized me from before and asked, "What are you doing here?"  "I came back to watch tonight.  Could you please call Greg Hall and tell him Jo Addie is here?"  He called Greg on the radio and Greg, already at the Grand, gave instructions to come over and look for him. As the last few extras, who'd had wardrobe calls since 3 pm, filed past me on their way to the hotel, I sat there, tingling at the thought that it was really going to happen, and I'd be there, on the sidelines, to watch.  A familiar-looking man walked in, and the security guard got up, spoke with him quietly, then they both looked my way. I could tell they were talking about me, I didn't know why.  The man was Bill O'Hagan, and he looked at me and said, "I don't have anything for you tonight, but come see me tomorrow."  I nodded obediently, and then realized that the guard had asked him if I would be able to be outfitted for the scene!  Come back tomorrow, to possibly be in the movie! What a concept!   I sat a few minutes longer, talking with the guard.  Another man came in, the second assistant director Don, whom I had spoken with on the previous trip.  I didn't think he would, but he recognized me, and said, "What are YOU doing here?"  I told him I came to watch.  He said, "You came ALL THE WAY from Chicago -- JUST TO  WATCH?"  Well, it didn't sound at all foolish to me, until he said it.  I was embarrassed.  "You're not in costume or anything tonight?"  No, I said.  "Well, go up to wardrobe, and see if Opal has something for you".  The words almost stung.  "Really?"  He said, "Go on, tell her Don sent you."  I floated up those stairs.  I entered a cluster of rooms, wardrobe women still bustling after helping dress about a hundred ladies.  I knew that these people had all been outfitted weeks ahead, the chances were slim.  I asked for Opal, gave her my message, and she told me to wait out in the hall for ten minutes.  Then her assistant came out and said, "Follow me."  We went into a small room, where there was a single dress hanging, a pale pink chiffon with ecru lace and beaded trim,  a "ditty bag" hanging with it, complete with shoes, hat, and slip.  Opal came in and looked me up and down. "Yes, this will fit you.  Someone didn't show up."  And before I knew it I was getting into the lovely dress, and was led into a tiny room full of accessories, where I was handed long white gloves, jewelry and a beautiful beaded bag.  Then came inspection.  Opal had me turn around and said, "Oh no, that will never do."  The wide neckline was exposing my bathing suit strap marks from last year's tan. "Ladies back then never went in the sun.  When you get to the Grand, get a security girl to take you to a make-up man to touch up those strap marks."  Nodding, I thanked them all, the dressers, Opal, the security guard, and stepped outside in stunned disbelief.  I was the last one dressed for that night.  A moment later I was on my way through town.  I felt just like Cinderella--here I was riding in a carriage, in a beautiful dress, and indeed, on my way to the Ball!  Jim will never believe this!

At the Grand Hotel, the lower lobby was filled with happy people in costume.  My heart jumped at the sight.   Regardless of age, we were all children again, playing dress-up.  For a movie!  The quality of the garments was awesome.  All authentic.  And they had a sort of magic to them.  When you were in them, you became a different person.  We all did.  Men started bowing to ladies.  Ladies blushed, and curtsied.  Having just met, they walked arm in arm, complimenting each other on their fine attire, using the ultimate in good manners.  What was truly strange, even our language altered, and we all began speaking in English accents.   And since we were in the Grand Hotel, on Mackinac Island, it was as though we really had all been transported in time.  Like the hotel of the past was alive again.  I wandered around until I found a security girl.  I followed her up through the main lobby where lights were being set up.  Dinner was still being served and the crew had to wait until guests were finished before taking over the dining room.  We started up the stairs and through the long hall.  And I began to feel like I'd caused a problem with these blasted tan marks.  They don't usually put make-up on extras, I imagined.  A door was partially open, and she knocked.  Immediately to the left of the doorway was another door, the bathroom, where Paul Sanchez, the make-up man who always wore a Stetson hat, was laying out his tools of the trade.  She told him what was needed and asked if he had time.  He said sure, come in.  I came into the room, and spotted another man sitting in the far corner on the bed.  Reflexively, feeling like an intruder into somebody's privacy, I said a polite, "Hi."  As I went through the doorway to see Paul, I realized that the man was Christopher Plummer, and I was evidently in his dressing room!  There I was with a Hollywood make-up man working on me, while Mr. Plummer stood in the doorway enjoying a cocktail, and the three of us all chatting like we're old pals.  Jim would never believe this!  Paul put me at ease right away with his pleasant, down-to-earth manner, and Christopher Plummer was just as you'd expect him to be, suave, handsome, a true gentleman with remarkable style.  The makeup took a while because Paul was thorough and made up my neck and face as well.  When I left, Mr. Plummer, who, by that time had gone back to reading his script, got up as I thanked him for the use of his room, and opened the door for me.  I heard him say something nice about me to Paul as I went down the hall.  I had to get to a pay phone and call home!

In the phone booth in the lobby, I related the past hours' details, while still not believing them myself.  But all I had to do was look down at my dress, to see it was really true, discovering new details as I did.  I don't have to tell you his reaction.  He didn't believe it!  Upon crossing the lobby, I spotted Bill O'Hagan again, now dressed in his costume as Rollo.  I suddenly hoped he wouldn't notice me, remembering HE told me to come back tomorrow.  But he did a double-take, and with a confused look said, "You made it!"  I felt like somehow I'd "gone over his head" and quickly explained how I'd visited before, was recognized and all the details.  We were instant friends, and while we chatted he asked if I knew how to dance.  I told him I'd been a dancer all my life, and with that he took me over to a small group he'd assembled learning an old fox trot, gave me a partner and made me one of the dancers.  Hours of waiting, and talking and having a wonderful time later, we were all part of the long dolly shot in the dining room where Richard looks for Elise.  And we were excited to catch a glimpse of the newly arrived female star, Jane Seymour.  It was her first night of working, too. While most of us had never seen her before, there was no doubt she was breathtaking, radiant even from a distance.  Sometime around 2, after a tremendous dinner of the hotel's food, we were setting up to do the dancing scene, Richard cutting in on Elise.  Two new friends, also dancers, and I were standing on the dance floor waiting for the scene to begin filming.  From behind us came Christopher Reeve, asking "Now how do you do this dance?"  Momentarily stunned, we started to show him.  He stood across from me as I counted the steps out slowly, and he did them with me.  Then he stopped, bent down a bit toward me and said, "Are you the dancing coach?"  After all the events of the day, it was such a ludicrous question, I just laughed and said, "Uh, no."  And he said, "Well, you know you should be, because you really look like you know what you're doing,"  and he walked away!  All this in one incredible night . . . 

It was so interesting to watch the movie making process.  The collaboration of so many experts from diverse fields, to make each scene work right in every detail, was fascinating to me.  The second night I met more wonderful people.  Bill O'Hagan introduced me to his long time friend, Britt Lomond, the Production Manager.  These two gentlemen became almost like my "dads" on the island.  "Are you dressed warm enough?", loaning me a jacket for chilly evenings.  They knew I came to the island with only a couple outfits, planning a short two night trip.  I was washing my underwear in the sink--good thing I was wearing costumes 15 hours a day!  I ended up staying for three weeks, relishing every minute of work--if you can call it work--in nearly every 1912 scene with background people. Extras were paid $25 per day, plus overtime.

After the second night's shooting ended at 6 am, Britt and I stopped for breakfast on the way back to the Inns.  We sat in the restaurant and talked about movies as the sun rose until they opened at 7.  When patrons started filing in, they of course noticed the woman in the movie costume sitting with the silver haired gentleman, and a few timidly approached us to ask me for my autograph.  This was more than embarrassing.  I begged off, explaining I was "only an extra", and that I was sitting with the Production Manager who surely had the autograph to get.  But Britt was very gracious, and insisted I fulfill their persistent requests.  He later very kindly explained to me that one is "never JUST an extra," and "we couldn't do a period film like this one without people like you to give it atmosphere".   He also asked what my husband did for a living, and upon hearing it he wanted to meet Jim and talk to him about stereo systems.  Then he surprised me by saying, "if you can get him to Detroit, I'll fly him up in the film plane."  The exposed film was flown every day to Detroit in a small plane contracted for this important errand, then transferred on to California to be processed and returned the same way the next day to be viewed by the crew as dailies.  Our only car was parked at the dock, but luckily Jim took the train to work.  So, a week later, Jim hopped a plane to Detroit and came up to join his Alice in her Wonderland for the weekend.   He even worked one day in costume in the theater scene!  And he brought me some more clothes and underwear!  But we had been sharing the experience right along, for as soon as he heard I was working, Jim went to the library and got a copy of “Bid Time Return” and was reading it daily.  We'd talk on the phone each night, and I'd tell him every detail about the scenes we did, he said this, she said that, and Jim would say, "you know what happens next?".....since we didn't film in sequence, HE was able to fill in the holes for ME!  Later on, I was given a copy of the script to read, and it remains in my SIT collection.

Is there really such a thing as Movie Magic?  Yes, there is.  I can tell you for sure there was a powerful sense of magic the day we filmed the lakeshore scene, where Richard first encounters his Elise.  It's a lonely windswept stretch of beach with large pebbles instead of sand.  Those twisting trees are unlike any I've ever seen elsewhere--they surely only exist there, where two lovers meet despite time.  I wondered that day if, when I saw the film, I would see the crew standing around in their T-shirts, the huge scrim to reflect the light, the camera on its small crane.  And though the crew usually does all its work before the actors come in, and since they're just on "standby", most of them don't even watch during the actual moments of filming.  They usually whisper, read a magazine, drink a soda.  But on that day, for that scene I remember all eyes riveted on the action.  It was a gentle meeting, but full of drama, and when the director yelled "Cut", everyone looked at each other with raised eyebrows, nodding with prideful smiles.  We all knew then for certain we were making something extraordinary!

The breakfast scene on the lawn of the Grand where Robinson confronts Richard was a pure joy.  Clusters of extras developed little scenarios all over the place.  The sky was perfectly clear, the air was crisp.  We did several takes as the camera dollies across the scene from left to right to Richard seated at a table. The take they used was where I was walking in my riding habit with a partner across the lawn, almost in sync with the camera as Robinson crosses the lawn.   What you don't see in the film is the long string of linen draped tables, laden with huge shrimp and lobster and other delicacies that the Hotel spread out for the scene, depicting a lavish breakfast buffet.  We wiped our chins as we thought how we'd relish this food at lunch.  But it was strictly for props and "unfit to eat" after sitting out in the sun, so it was all thrown away!  I must say though, that when we filmed at the Grand, we ate the Grand food, which is the best you can find anywhere.  We were able to dine on their awesome buffet while filming inside, wearing white lab coats over our costumes to protect them.  That was a bizarre sight--we looked like 1912-costumed doctors and nurses!  And while working outside on their expansive property, the menu included steak-burgers that melted in your mouth!

I'm unable to say the same for the Inns of Mackinac, now defunct.  When we filmed on location there, in the theater, we were mortified to endure buffets of food we couldn't identify.  And what was left untouched one day seemed to reappear for a second chance the next.  I recall being in line with Chris one day as he hesitantly surveyed the mystery meat.  He broke our puzzled frowns by saying, "I can name that food in five bites," and we dared him to Name That Food.

People frequently ask me, "What is Christopher Reeve really like?  He is exactly as he seems on TV interviews, candid and honest, with an easy smile, not the least bit affected by his fame.  He exudes positive energy--very optimistic, cheerful, congenial, with a refreshing childlike quality--by that I mean he is enthusiastic and animated about whatever he is involved in.  I guess you'd say he's the kind of guy everyone would enjoy having as a friend.  I can't help but admit to being a little thrilled when after working a while on the film Chris and I were on a first-name basis.

As an extra, you are placed in a scene at the discretion of the assistant directors, or production assistants.  Naturally, if you are given a strategic location, where you can be readily distinguished, the chances of your working often are very slim.  You can be used more frequently if you are less prominent, and beyond that, wearing different costumes allows you to be different people!  As thrilling as all of this is, we'd often disguise our fondness for working long hours and follow the "routine" with a blasé air.  We would be told while shooting whether we'd be needed the next day, or we'd inquire in the Casting Office, and be given a call time.  We'd also be told what sort of person we'd be playing, a townsperson, a hotel guest, a bellhop, maid, etc.  Then you'd report to wardrobe, separated into men's and women's sections, where there stood expansive racks of vintage clothes--day dresses, evening gowns.  I was told that the clothing was primarily from one woman's collection.  She had traveled the world collecting vintage clothing and was renting them for Somewhere in Time. Slips, shoes and other accessories came from the Universal lot.  Each time I was costumed, Opal was amazing.  She'd look me over to figure my dimensions, go over to the racks and select a dress that would just fit.  Mind you, back in 1912, one couldn't go into a store and buy clothes off the rack.  A seamstress would sometimes stay with a family for weeks, making custom outfits for each individual--they were not sized.  And yet, with her vast experience, Opal could fit you with her eyes.  Then that outfit and all its accoutrements would be hung in another room with your name attached, in case you'd be called to wear it again.  I wore 5 different costumes, the riding outfit, including waistcoat, top hat with scarf, boots and riding crop, 3 day dresses--my favorite being a lavender cotton lace, and the pale pink evening gown.

Once dressed, the ladies would often need to report to the Hair and Makeup Room, where our hair would be pinned up, or our hats would be put on properly by the hairdressers.  It was here we'd often see the "stars", because while this room had one wall of glass and natural sunlight and two walls of mirrors it was the perfect place for the stars to have their makeup and hair done.  I was fascinated to watch Jane's long hair being done up by Greg Mitchell.  He used pieces called "rats", made of hair and shaped like large donuts, as the foundation for her lovely Gibson girl style, just as they did in the past.  It would take well over an hour to create.

The company never took for granted the miracle of finding everything they needed for the script on this remote island.  Think of it--they needed horses and carriages, a theatre with a stage, a college campus/classroom, as well as a magnificent hotel.  In the postwar forties, the Moral Re-Armament movement built Mackinac College, and there they made propaganda type films, so there was this huge production complex, including sound stage, prop shop, carpenter shop, copious warehouse space for wardrobe and set storage, the theatre with a stage.  And it had all lain dormant for nearly thirty years, as if the island was waiting for this movie to be made there!  (Only Richard’s modern apartment, the Lake Shore Drive scene and the interior of the old library were shot in Chicago.  All other filming took place on the island, not a frame was shot in LA.) The old theatre sure came in handy.  One night there was a party there, where the members of the cast from Chicago's Second City entertained us with an impromptu show.  Audrey Neenan, Tim Kazurinsky and Bruce Jarchow, (actors on the stage with Elise's company), were hilarious doing some of their bits and a lot of improvisation.

I was also on hand the Sunday afternoon they showed Superman there for anyone who wanted to see it.  As we all hoped he would, Chris attended the showing, to the delight of the audience.  He came in just before house lights came down to keep a low profile, but when there was a technical problem with the soundtrack in the second reel, and the film continued several minutes without sound, Chris stood up and told all of us what dialogue we were missing, until the problem was solved. This was even reported to the Michigan press, which printed stories of the filming throughout the state at least weekly.

I remember how pathetic Chris looked after the closed set filming of his escape from the horse barn.  At that time, Chris was highly allergic to horses, (which he later overcame) so he always rode his bike to and from the set location.  But that day he had to endure a long exposure, and before he slipped into the building where everyone was being housed, we glimpsed his red face and very swollen eyes.

And I'll never forget how I peeked through the scenery during the closed set filming of Richard and Elise's first kiss.  My vantage point was similar to the camera's, and I held my breath as I watched each delicate moment unfold.  My eyes filled with tears.  Could anyone have improved upon it?  I am certain it is one of the most romantic kisses in film history!

I had opportunity to talk with Susan French and Bill Erwin, too.  She is a lady in the classic sense of the word, yet loaded with spunk, and with a twinkle in her eyes.  And he is a friendly person with a glorious sense of humor, who regales all who are near with anecdotes and word play.

But my most memorable day of all was yet to come.  Film crews typically work six days a week, with Sundays free.  What to do on your day off?  My ballroom dance friend, Susan Anderson, lived locally on the mainland in Petoskey, and she invited Chris, Greg Hall, and me to come to her house located on a small lake, initially, to go water skiing.   Chris invited Jane to come along, and the plan was to ride our bikes through the woods to the island's uncontrolled airstrip, where Chris would lift us "off the rock" in his own single engine plane.  The weather was uncooperative for water sports, cloudy with some drizzle and only 53 degrees.  So Susan altered the plan and suggested bowling.   Now, I had always sworn I would never fly in a small plane, but I made an exception that day!  Chris adored flying, and as a capable private pilot, needed to log so many miles each six months to keep his license current.  Since his flying was often curtailed by work, he took us on an extra leg to Traverse City first, about a forty minute flight, with Jane in the co-pilot seat, where we landed, only to change co-pilots when Greg went up front; then we took off again to Petoskey.  I'll never forget how wonderful it was to talk with Jane, one-on-one,  during that leg of the journey.  She was so captivating, so warm and spoke openly about her life to me. At the Petoskey airport, Susan picked us up and took us to her house for a brief stop.  

Then it was on to the bowling alley, a very crowded bowling alley.  While we procured a lane and got our shoes, (Chris asking for a size 13) I wondered if "the stars" would be mobbed, since the local papers reported almost daily on the filming.  They put us right in the middle lane, but surprisingly only a few people noticed us, recognized them, and quietly approached for autographs.  We ate pizza and lost ourselves in the fun of the game.  Frankly, none of us were tournament material, but Chris claimed the high score in both games.  I still have the bowling sheet.  On the way back to the plane, we stopped at a roadside produce stand and purchased some delicious Michigan fruit.  Jane invited me to sample the black cherries she bought, and I begged off, remembering the red cherries from our own tree at home which were incredibly sour.  She was so surprised I’d never tried the black variety, she urged me again, so I obliged.  Now every time I eat black cherries, which I really love, I think of her.  I got to be “co-pilot” in the cockpit with Chris on the short flight back to Mackinac.  I never imagined how much a small plane gets buffeted by air pockets.  How exciting it was to "fly blind" in the thick white clouds, to drop below them and see the Grand Hotel from above and descend to the short runway, looming closer and closer while you sit wide-eyed watching the descent to a skillful landing.  It was the third of July.  The tough part was, since it was a big secret that Chris had flown his plane to the island, and was flying during filming--something the company wouldn’t approve of because of it being ‘risky’ or ‘dangerous’, I couldn’t tell anyone of our adventure.  When others asked me what I’d done on our day off, I had to say, “Oh, nothing”!  But I have photos in my wallet to this day.

On July fourth, as the crowd of now-plentiful tourists and islanders gathered to watch the fireworks, Christopher Plummer strode up nearby, and we chatted during the show.   My work on the film was finished, but I left abruptly the next day due to a sudden illness in my family.  I regret that I didn't have the opportunity to say a proper goodbye to all the special friends I'd made.  And yet, my story doesn't end here.

My pal, Susan Anderson stayed with us on her way to move out to California some months later.  She promised to find out and let me know when the screening for the cast and crew was to take place.  She visited Greg Hall on the set of Battlestar Gallactica, on the Universal lot, and bumped into the woman from the production office for whom she'd been a "gopher" during SIT, and who was presently in charge of invitations to the Screening.  Upon hearing that she now lived in the LA area, she was promised an official invitation for the Big Night coming up on Friday, April 11, just under 2 weeks away.  When Susan called with the news, we were thrilled!  We made our plane reservations immediately to fly in the night before.  I called Britt Lomond right away, and asked if it was possible to get an invitation.  He said he thought there was a good chance, but 4 days later, called me back with the horrible news that he couldn't obtain one.  Normally there wasn't such "tight security" for screenings, he said, but since the rumor on the lot was that the film was very good, perhaps they were afraid that people would just crash the event.  He suggested that I call up my other friends on the crew who might not be attending and ask to use their invitations.  I did just that, phoning Jack Wilson, the make-up man.  Jack was anxious to accommodate my request, as he never attended screenings, but said he'd check to make sure it was all right to do so.  Phoning back two days later, he told me he'd asked but the answer was no.  We were out of ideas.  After waiting so anxiously for 8 months to see the finished film, we were horrified that the screening was going to happen without us.  We did not leave the night before, but cancelled our reservations.

On the morning of the special day, I awoke in a deep depression.  Jim called from work to say he felt the same.  He said, "You know we should have gone.  We could have gotten all the way up to the door, and they could turn us away, but at least we'd know we did everything possible to see it."  I said, "Why didn't you say that yesterday?"  He replied, "You know, I think we should still go.  If we don't, we surely won't have that last chance to see the film.  Even IF they stop us at the door, we'll have a vacation for a few days.  If I can get reservations this afternoon that will get us there in time, we're going!"  And a few minutes later, informed me we had two hours to catch a plane.  Here I was again, throwing stuff frantically into a suitcase!  We called Susan to tell her to pick us up at 7, the screening was at 8.  She said, "You guys are crazy!", but promised to be there, along with her pal, Dean Remington, also a former extra, and also recently relocated there.  Breathless, we were the last people to board the plane.  The door closed right after us.  Our luggage didn't make it.  The four of us had butterflies as we drove up to the lot, and were automatically waved on passed the first guard house.  There were four of us, with only one invitation, which was good for two people.  But Jim and I had made a pact on the plane.  If we got all the way to the door and they turned us down, we would not do any name-dropping, feeling it inappropriate.  I had read my script on the flight, so in case I'd miss it, I could ask all sorts of questions afterward about editing, etc.  A second guard motioned to a parking area.  So far so good!  We walked with baited breath toward a gathering of people.  Now it became obvious why there was such a restrictive headcount.  There was scaffolding all over.  They were building new screening rooms and they weren't yet finished!  We were right behind Susan and Dean. I could begin to recognize faces.  Someone was yelling for people to come in and take their seats, and many were going up the makeshift ramp and entering the "magic door".  Maybe our gamble would pay off.  We'd come so far already.....But then my heart sank.  I spotted the lady with the clip board.  She smiled approvingly at Susan but stepped right in my path, stopping me.  She asked my name.  I told her, and knew it was all over.  She acted out a pretense of checking for my name, saying she didn't believe it was on her list.  I hung my head.  Well, we tried.  No Jo Addie.  I just looked at my shoes.  We'd tried everything.  The crowd was vanishing inside.  She said, "Jack Wilson asked me if he could pass his invitation on to you, and I said no."  I had no idea he'd asked specifically using my name--she wasn't as surprised to see me as I was to actually be there!  I didn't say a word.  I believe she was expecting some sort of song and dance, but when she didn't get any, she softened somewhat and sighed, "Well, I don't think I have any room for you, but you can stay here in case there's a second showing."  A second showing?  What a concept!  She walked off, and there we stood, obediently.  Now there were only a few people remaining.  One of them was Jane Seymour.  She looked my way, and with a smile of recognition, she waved.  I was so sure it wasn't at me, I turned to look behind me.  But no one was there.  I couldn't believe she'd remember me.  She walked right over and greeted me.  She said, "I'm sorry, I know your face but can't remember your name."  I told her, and after confirming her memory of our day flying, I introduced Jim.  She said, "I recall you lived in Chicago right?  Did you move out here?"  I said, "No, we just got off a plane."  She said, "You flew out from Chicago just to see the movie tonight?"  I said, "Yes, but it doesn't look like they have any room.  We don't have an invitation."  And then she took my hand in hers and said determinedly, "YOU'LL see the film tonight.  You'll see it WITH ME."  And as we stood there, dumbfounded, she turned and walked right up the ramp and disappeared through the door.  I wasn't sure what she meant.  It was now 8 o'clock.  A few stragglers were still cramming into the doorway.  Then I thought I saw a little hand, beckoning over their heads.  I peered intently, and Jane jumped up to be seen, waving for us to approach.  We ran up the ramp, through the door, where Jane whispered, "There are two seats right up in front."  I threw my arms around her, and said, "Jane, I love you!"  We took the only two open seats, second row center, right behind Susan and Dean, the lights went out, and it started.

How can I describe the awesome feeling of seeing the movie--the culmination of about seven week's work--far more including pre- and post-production, with the people who made it?  I can’t. It was too wonderful for words.  I wept profusely.  Right from the beginning.  I made mental notes of familiar scenes, now cut and assembled with precision, the captivating story sweeping me along....the  music, beautiful, beyond all expectations.  I never thought of the lights, the scrims, the crew standing near.  It was real for me, and it grabbed my heart like no other movie has.  There wasn't a sound in the house until all the credits rolled by.  After the very last words crawled up the screen, there was an explosion of applause.  I was a part of it, once again, barely in time.  And Jane was directly responsible for my being there, having actually found our seats for us.

There was a long 5 month wait for the Premiere in September on Mackinac Island.  Did you think I would miss THIS?  You know me by now.  We tingled with excitement to see The Movie in the Grand Hotel "theatre".  I recall the first moment the Grand appears in the first reel, lit up at night--there was a spontaneous "Oooohhh", and applause from the entire audience!  There were so many locals who had been in various scenes present, and they snickered as they recognized themselves and each other.  It's just too bad the stars couldn’t be on hand for the festivities.  Though they wanted to attend and promote the film to the press, the premiere took place during the Actors' Strike; they weren't allowed to make personal appearances.  I'm sure there would've been more publicity, had they been there, which would surely have helped the film.

I saw the film 16 times in the theatre during the short three weeks it ran locally.  I know I was one of the fortunate ones to see Somewhere in Time on the big screen, since most fans found it on their TVs. We asked the theatre manager if we could have the lobby cards when the film left, and he promised them to me.  I kept bringing friends and relatives to see it, and at one point, the manager started to let us all in for free. Funny, looking back...now, we provide the big screen experience for fans at the annual SIT Weekend at Grand Hotel. We bring the 35mm projection equipment and screen 450 miles from Chicago, so fans can see the film on a big screen, most for the first time!

When I found out about INSITE in 1990, and met Bill Shepard, I was totally amazed, and thrilled the movie was being resurrected’.  Through his efforts, we have all been able to have such incredible fun, honoring and celebrating this beautiful film with its message of true love...the ultimate true love, with the capacity to conquer even the obstacle of time itself. .  I greatly admire all Bill has done to promote the film and bring the fans, and the creators of Somewhere in Time together, essentially giving the film the recognition we all feel it deserves.

What am I doing now?  Well, I had no idea it would, but Somewhere in Time completely changed my life.  Based on my previous radio announcing and commercial voiceovers, the cast and crew of Somewhere in Time encouraged me to get professional photos, take acting classes and start doing on-camera work.  In fact, Bill Erwin told me just how to accomplish that.  I was a commercial actress for 19 years, my niche was product advertising and on-camera narrator for industrial films, plus an occasional commercial.  I have been an extra on several other projects, notablyThe Blues Brothers, Continental Divide, and The Fugitive.

When you spend 3 weeks on an island without cars, wear vintage clothing 15 hours a day, ride in carriages and wake up to the clip-clop of horses’ hooves each morning, it affects you.  I felt like I'd lived for 3 weeks in 1912.  I grew up in a modern home, but I found myself wandering into antique stores after the film to find a few "mementos" of my experience.  I started several collections, most notably beaded purses, which are still my passion. My fascination for all things old grew, and within two years we bought an old house, built in 1908.  We've filled it with antiques.  And for the past sixteen years I've been an antique dealer, doing shows in the Chicago area.  I find the world of decorative objects from the past calming and wonderfully satisfying.

But who could have imagined that Somewhere in Time would still be current in my life twenty four years later?  That I would become INSITE President (1999), following in Bill Shepard's shoes, helping to plan every one of the 13 annual Somewhere in Time Weekends, even hosting my own all-day affairs to honor the film in Chicago (1997 and 2000) and Los Angeles in 1995 and 2000 (15th and 20th Anniversary Events).  That Jim and I would become video editors/producers, and that we would have the honor of documenting this film in a way few movies have ever been--by making six two-hour documentary SIT Event Videos which highlight the celebrations held in its honor, including my private interviews with all the celebrity guests, including extraordinary archival interviews with Chris and Jane. And beyond this, that I would become the Universal Studios licensee for Somewhere in Time, to be able to create a line of official collectibles on the film,for which Chris, Jane and Universal receive royalties.  And that I would become editor/publisher of a quarterly magazine, INSITE!  My greatest accomplishment, in my opinion, was to get Universal to create the 20th Anniversary Collectors Edition DVD. They did all I asked and more, even including an unprecedented segment on our INSITE Fan Society, giving a nod to all that INSITE has accomplished in heralding the film. Bill and I are honored to appear on the DVD. Then, they even did the 'miracle' of throwing an unprecedented Red Carpet Premiere for the DVD's release! I helped them to plan this fabulous event, the only SIT Event which BOTH Chris and Jane attended. (My husband and I produced a 28 minute program all about this marvelous night, which appears on our most recent video, "Jane Seymour Returns to Mackinac" our sixth SIT Event Video.) This first-time premiere for a DVD 'healed a wound' for the film. At its initial premiere on Mackinac Island in 1980, neither star was able to attend. It happened to be during the 5 week Actors Strike, and it was considered work for actors to promote their films. They were heartbroken, and could not appear on talk shows to showcase the film and show clips. Here we were, 20 years later, with the Premiere the film had been denied!!! My 'journey' with SIT is almost too bizarre to be believed.

Somewhere in Time led me into many new directions, and gave me several new "careers".  It broadened my personal horizons beyond what I could have imagined for myself and my life. At auditions/jobs and at antique shows, people often ask me how I got into "the business".  I'm very proud to say I "fell into" working on this beautiful movie.  My life is ultimately more interesting and challenging because of it. I can’t say that this journey has been “a dream come true”, because I never could have dreamed this could happen.  Realizing that a chance experience lasting three glorious weeks in 1979, would ultimately allow me to explore new horizons in such rewarding ways, is very humbling.  This journey has been a privilege, especially because my husband has been sharing it with me from the beginning, and now our son is sharing it too.  I hope my story inspires you to look at life’s opportunities with new eyes . . . 

- Originally published in July, 1991 issue of INSITE, now with updated ending. -