5 Minutes Alone with Charlton Heston
What would you do if you got 5 minutes alone with a major celebrity you’ve admired your entire life?
That happened to me 17 years ago when I was a journalist for WALB, the NBC affiliate in Albany, Georgia. I got 5 minutes, completely alone, with Charlton Heston.
The Game
Political candidates love to trot out famous faces during campaign season, especially in the South. There’s a bit of a dog and pony show to the whole thing — candidates bring famous faces along for the ride as they stump, trying to draw bigger crowds. Journalists play along and get the celebrity sound bite, hurling it into the media ether before going home for the day. The whole thing is disgusting, really.
Now imagine being a journalist when, despite your apolitical training, someone who can actually star-strike you is going to be at an event you’re covering. Do you go all fanboy or do you act cool?
I’m proud to say that I only crossed that line once when I was a reporter. If it’s any consolation, I found a way to do it without anyone knowing about it. Until now. Let’s face it, journalists are not robots and life is too short to act like one when you get the rare chance to meet a living legend.
The Man, the Myth…
You see, I’m a huge Planet of the Apes fan. To me, Charlton Heston is the man, err, was the man. He died in 2008. He was frickin’ Ben-Hur, for crying out loud. Who in the name of Major Dundee wouldn’t have been be a little star-struck in the presence of that Hollywood heavyweight? I certainly was in 1998 when I met him as he campaigned for Georgia Senator Paul Coverdell.
Many people remember Charlton Heston as the polemic Democrat-turned-Republican face of the National Rifle Association. To me, he was Moses. He was Marc Antony. He was George Taylor, the post-apocalyptic sci-fi astronaut cursing the fate of mankind in crestfallen agony as he saw the Statue of Liberty in the distance.
I’ve interviewed my share of notable people but was never really star-struck by any of them. I’ve always viewed professional athletes, high-ranking politicians and zillionaires as normal people who simply got pretty good at what they did. Mr. Heston wasn’t merely a pretty good actor, though — he was an icon.
In and Out of Character
It was a strange series of events that led me to my moment with the man who’d been parting the Red Sea on TV at least one Sunday night each year for as long as I can remember. Mr. Heston’s campaign stop for Senator Coverdell was typical. It was a made-for-media PR stunt staged at the Southwest Georgia Regional Airport in Albany. They got off a private plane and gave short little speeches to a crowd of supporters and celebrity gawkers. Afterwards, they answered a few questions and were supposed to get back on the plane to hit the next town.
As it turned out, the other reporters split fairly quickly, scurrying off to file their version of the campaign stop before hitting the day’s other “newsworthy” events. Senator Coverdell and his cronies lingered to talk to the crowd. I went to the office of a non-commercial hangar to get a drink of water while my videographer got shots of the crowd, something people in the business call “spraying” the event. As I was sitting there enjoying a respite of air conditioning, guess who came out of the bathroom and plopped down on a vinyl couch right across from me? Charlton Heston. Yep. Moses. No one else was around. It was just me and the most famous American actor of all time.
What would you do? What would you say?
I started with typical small talk and he played along, steering the conversation toward Senator Coverdell. What a trooper. I remember being struck by how bad his toupee was up close. I couldn’t believe I was sitting there shooting the breeze with the man who was famously chased and caged by those talking apes. He and those apes were on my rectangular metal lunchbox back in the day!
Knowing no one else was around and that I would never get this opportunity again, I decided to break out of reporter mode. I just had to tell him I was a big Planet of the Apes fan. He was appreciative. He seemed relieved to break away from the political pandering and talk about what is clearly one of the best sci-fi movies ever made.
Being in full-blown fan-dork mode, I felt the need to qualify my knowledge of the film. I complimented his performance in what was a very stripped down role with minimal dialogue but lots of action. What a challenge that must’ve been. I talked about how that movie blew me away as a little kid and still did as an adult. My mouth kept running but I couldn’t stop. He seemed to bask in my praise. He had been in this situation before, probably hundreds of times. He knew I wanted something, too.
The Request
I don’t collect or care about autographs. I wanted something more personal. I wanted to see if he would do a line. Talk about a story to tell the grandkids! Looking back, I can’t believe how brazen I was. I asked him how often he got asked to do his famous lines and he just laughed. He was onto me.
He knew the best way to respond.
He held up a finger and looked down as if to indicate he wanted silence. Giddy as a school girl, I watched as he got into character right there in front of me, loosening his dress shirt collar to give himself the freedom to emote.
With a quick and startling motion he grabbed his own neck and took a deep breath before delivering that famous line when Mr. Taylor reveals to the apes that he really can speak English.
“Get your ssstinking paws off me, you damned… dirty ape!”
He gave the line the full business. It was loud and intense. It was amazing. It was just like the film that had been burned into my memory, only better. I had just received a personal performance from a Hollywood legend.
He looked me in the eye and smiled as he descended back into Charlton Heston and I didn’t know what else to do so I clapped and thanked him for the mini production, laughing because I still couldn’t believe what had just happened. He laughed along as if to enjoy the moment with me.
End Scene
Years later, I can say I’m glad that I put down my reporter guard that day and crossed the line even though many journalists would argue that I shouldn’t have. It’s interesting to look back and realize that I was acting, too — at least until that moment when I ended up alone with Mr. Heston.
Things got more interesting when we both stepped away from the charade that brought us together that afternoon. I left with a great story to tell. He interacted with a true fan and was pleased to do so. It seemed that way, anyway, but I guess I’ll never really know. After all, Heston was a pretty good actor.
