Memories of Johnny Past: ‘Tonight,’ Then and Now : Television: A former talent coordinator for the show takes a fond look at her days with the chief and crew of America’s late-night ship of state.

Backstage, the cork board at the front of producer Fred de Cordova’s office still sported those familiar salmon-colored index cards, neatly lined up by show date, each with high-profile guests’ names printed in black ink.

Sixteen years ago, when I joined “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” as a talent coordinator, we lined up those salmon-colored cards the same way. In the 13 years since I left “Tonight,” it seemed as though nothing had changed. During the show’s penultimate week, when I dropped by for a last farewell, this well-oiled machine was chugging along as smoothly as it had for the last three decades.

As they did when I worked there, the producers and talent coordinators gathered at 11 in the morning in Fred’s office, summoned by a wall button that set off bell tones throughout the offices entreating--no, commanding--our appearance.

We’d come armed to discuss how to design each show--what guests should be booked, a day, week, or even a month ahead.

Regardless of how many times a guest had been on the show we went through the same procedure. All potential guests were pre-interviewed, to see how Johnny might like talking with them, and what they might talk about.

We’d discuss guest possibilities at the 11 o’clock meeting, where likely candidates would get their names put on white index cards. Once a guest spot was offered, a red check was added to the card. And when NBC gave its approval, the card was green-checked. Once the guest accepted our offer, the white card became a salmon card.

After the 11 o’clock meeting, the talent coordinators would retreat to their offices to research, interview and type up their notes for guests scheduled for that night’s show. Fred needed our notes by 2:30 so he could distribute them to Johnny. My notes consisted of an introduction and an edited list of questions culled from a discussion with the guest on the phone or in a face-to-face pre-interview. Johnny always knew how to make the most of those notes.

Like clockwork in the early afternoon, Johnny would drive his then-small dark-green 450SL Mercedes--he now drives a white Corvette--into his anointed No. 1 Burbank lot parking space.

The full staff would gather at 4:30 for a final production meeting, again in Fred’s office, again summoned by the bell. Then we’d meet with the guests we were responsible for, who were getting ready in their respective dressing rooms for the show to begin, live on tape at 5:30.

At 5, the studio came alive. Guests not already in-house arrived, cameras and technical positions were manned, musicians came in wearing jackets and ties, the audience was seated and the pre-show warm-up began. The warm-up was designed to make the audience comfortable, ready to respond and laugh. In the past, Fred would introduce Doc Severinsen who would introduce Ed McMahon. But last week, the audience howled in the warm-up as highlight clips of Johnny on “The Tonight Show” ran on monitors.

Guests waited in the nondescript yellowish “green room”--what-ever color it’s painted, it’s always called the green room. A decade and a half ago, rolled cold cuts and cheese were available for those backstage; now “The Tonight Show” offered a fresh fruit plate.

Then it was time for Ed’s “Heeeeeere’s Johnny!,” Johnny’s monologue and half a dozen steps to that famous desk. While the show rolled, the talent coordinators and associate producers would stand behind Fred’s chair--which swiveled to face either Johnny or the monitor at the end of the sofa, where Ed sat. Although each talent coordinator knew what position his or her guest would be on each show, we’d go fetch them only when told. Fred would cue Johnny to go to commercial, then turn to us and say, “Get Burt” or “Get Steve.”

Last week, sitting in on one of the final production meetings for “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” at my former colleagues’ invitation, my eyes kept drifting to that familiar scheduling board in Fred’s office. Eight dates were charted, seven with those familiar salmon-colored index cards indicating the guests confirmed for the next seven days. Invariably, I’d seek out the eighth day: Friday, May 22.

There were no salmon-colored cards listing guests for this night--just Johnny, Ed and Doc would be there. After that lone card with today’s date, there was only a long space of empty cork board. . . .