Jackie Gleason…How Sweet He Was!

It was my very first time to be on television as a June Taylor Dancer, working on the Jackie Gleason Show. I was shaking in my shoes as I stood in the wings and tried to remember which foot to start with. The butterflies in my stomach weren’t fluttering anymore … they were beating their wings with wild abandon! Then, out of the blue, the announcement boomed though the studio … “And now ladies and gentlemen, from New York City, CBS is proud to present – The Jackie Gleason Show!”

Music! Curtain! “Five, six, seven, eight – GO!” I plastered a smile on my face and out I went. The lights were so bright they nearly knocked the breath out of me. And then … just like that … the dance was over, and we were frozen in our final pose.

Mr. Gleason came striding through the line towards the audience. As he passed by me, he gave me a quick wink. I knew it was his way to let me know that I did ok. He made me feel like a million bucks!

Mr. Gleason was in a league of his own when it came to lifting my spirits. One afternoon, we were rehearsing this difficult, over-the-top circus number. The producer had hired several specialty acts to make it look like the real thing. Among them were a trained seal, a high-wire act, a mouthy, impudent parrot, and the fellow whose entire livelihood depended on pretending to be a gorilla.

I spotted the “gorilla man” bouncing around, dressed in a light blue seersucker suit. He was warming up … jumping, flopping, and rolling across the floor, when the producer’s voice floated across the room, “Let’s take it from section B!”

At that moment, I caught Mr. Gleason leaning toward him and saying “Hey Phil – for God’s sake, tell the gorilla guy to just mark it. Don’t make him get down on the floor, he’s probably wearing his only suit!” Tears welled up in my eyes and a quiet warmth swept over me. His simple decency had touched me deeply. I felt as if we were kindred spirits and overhearing it felt like a gift.

Another gift from Mr. Gleason came every Wednesday night after we finished taping the show. A dozen long-stemmed red roses, wrapped in fuchsia tissue paper, were waiting for every woman in the cast. For two straight years my home overflowed with roses. Holidays brought poinsettias and calla lilies, but it was the roses that meant the most. Somehow, seeing them each week made every pulled muscle, every blistered toe, and every drop of sweat feel … well, almost glamorous.

Not only was Gleason generous and kind, but he was also like a benevolent big brother to us – quite a contrast to June Taylor, who could have doubled as a top-ranking army drill sergeant! There were many times when June choreographed numbers so difficult that our bodies were aching, we were bone tired, and we were teetering on the edge of collapse. And just when we thought we couldn’t take another step, Mr. Gleason would magically slip into the room with coffee, Danish, and bagels. It was a welcome treat and an extra twenty minutes of blessed rest. In those special moments he boosted our morale and made us laugh.

Mr. Gleason also paid us well. On top of an already generous salary, we received an extra $50 every time we did a walk on. All we had to do was hand him a top hat, a cane, and a cape … and poof!! In the blink of an eye, he’d transform into Reginald Von Gleason, and we’d stroll off with a tidy little bonus in our pocket.

Each week we could request two tickets for friends or family to watch the show. Afterwards, we’d all wander down to the restaurant in the CBS building for drinks and dinner. Mr. G was usually there, settled comfortably in that big, round, red-leather booth reserved for the stars, surrounded by celebrities, and personal friends. And always, without fail, when I’d ask for the check, the waiter would smile and whisper, “Already taken care of, courtesy of Mr. Gleason.

He was the best, always gracious, gentle, and unfailingly kind to all of us. People called him a genius: an extraordinary actor, a brilliant comedian, a gifted composer, and a man with a photographic mind. The world knew him as “The Great One,” yet backstage he made us feel as if we were the stars.

As we waited to go on, he’d flash that mischievous smile, and tease, “You girls may be thin and beautiful, but I’m fat and adorable” … and then launch into one of his famous “and away we go moves.”

I loved my two years on the Jackie Gleason Show, and to this day my memories still glow. I can still hear him booming “How Sweet it is!” and I smile, remembering just how sweet it really was!