Tink and I were in Los Angeles on business.
That’s the only reason we go. We had a few hours between meetings.
He said, “I’d like to take you out to the Radford lot.”
Radford is a studio a bit off the beaten path from other studios. It has a special place in Tink’s heart because he spent many carefree, childhood days there. Those are the kind of days that we all look back on, and they send a longing into our hearts.
My days remembered like this are of walking barefoot through freshly plowed dirt for summer gardens, sitting on the creek bank reading and dreaming, and Sundays in the swimming hole with my cousins.
For Tink, his days were more sophisticated and, while mine will be forgotten after the breath leaves my body, his childhood and teenage years will be a part of history.
Tink’s father had an office at Radford where, daily, the handsome elder Tinker pulled his yellow, convertible Mercedes into a personalized parking space.
“He was so handsome,” the late actress, Valerie Harper, once said to me. “All of us girls swooned when he was around.”
He could look out his window, toward the stage where his wife, Mary Tyler Moore, was shooting her comedy show, or take a two-minute walk over there.
Radford, initially built by silent film producer Mack Sennett, was host to many of the shows of my childhood favorites, including the MTM Productions portfolio of hits, as well as Gilligan’s Island and My Three Sons.
As we walked the lot, Tink pointed out where Gilligan’s Lagoon had been and the house of My Three Sons.
Then, he struck a real chord. We read the enormous, sturdy plaque: On this stage, a company of loving and talented friends produced a television classic: The Mary Tyler Moore Show, 1970-1977.
We slowly started to walk away when Tink pointed to the stage next door.
“That’s where Gunsmoke was filmed.”
My eyes widened.
“Gunsmoke?”
A precious childhood memory, never forgotten, rushed freshly over me. The feeling was sweet, calming, and a bit sad that those innocent days had disappeared.
Every Monday night, at 8 p.m., Daddy and I had a standing date; wordlessly, together, we watched Gunsmoke. We loved Marshal Dillon, Miss Kitty, Doc Adams, Festus, and the others. Mama didn’t care for Westerns, so she was elsewhere. But Daddy and me? We loved Westerns like Bonanza.
But Gunsmoke was our favorite.
Those Monday nights together and the love of that show are at the top of my sweet memories of such a simple and happy childhood. I walked over to the sacred ground and, just like the little girl in me who loved the county fair, I thought of the ghosts of those characters that cluttered that plot of land.
Later, I read James Arness’ (Marshal Matt Dillon) autobiography, which made me love him more. I wish that Daddy had known he was a multi-awarded WWII veteran who, at 6-foot-7, was always the point man, leading the troops into battle, the first one off the boat at Anzio, in order to help determine the water’s depth. He was wounded in a serious struggle to liberate Rome, but kept fighting until he collapsed from blood loss.
Daddy was always an astounding judge of character. He made no secret of the fact that he was studying a man when he first met him. He said little, looked him up and down, then straight in the eye. After some thought, he would then decide whether he was worthy or worthless.
And now, I am surprised to learn that he could look through a television screen and also determine character because Matt Dillon was his favorite of all time.
Recently, a Gunsmoke marathon was playing in the background while I worked. I kept stopping to watch. Then I realized why I was so drawn to it – the storytelling was excellent.
Goodness.
If I could have one of those Monday nights back again.
If only.
Ronda Rich is the bestselling author of the Stella Bankwell mystery series. Visit www.rondarich.com for her free newsletter.