The Death of Orson Welles

The death of Orson Welles has recalled to me an almost forgotten incident when I was perhaps 17 and he was in his early 20s.

In high school I was the oddball who couldn’t see Robert Taylor or Tyrone Power but thought Orson Welles the most fascinating and sexy actor of all. With two girl friends I cut school to see a stage show he was doing between films at either the Chicago or State-Lake Theater in Chicago.

It was a melodrama he had written himself and at one point he pulled a gun and fired it at the villain on the other side of the stage. We were so enthralled with his acting and personality we sat through the movie again, moving down to sit in one of the side boxes very close to the stage.

During the second show, the gun failed to go off and, without losing a beat, Orson dashed across the stage and beat the villain to death with the gun butt.

Then in course of a graceful curtain speech, he made some sort of ironic reference to the fact that he was getting old and conservative, saying, “I hardly ever flirt with the blonde in the balcony anymore,” giving me at the same time a charming wink.

At least we presumed it was me since my two friends were brunettes. Talk about thrilling! They demanded I go backstage and say hello to him. No groupie I, I was terrified at the idea and content to worship from afar, so I never met Mr. Welles, alas. I still think he was the best!

RITA MYERS GAGNON

Pismo Beach