---

RETURN TO COLLINWOOD:
COLLECTING DARK SHADOWS!

In 1966, Daytime Television was a mixed bag of routine, weepy soap opera fare, game shows, local programming, and an occasional ancient "matinee movie." When ABC-TV premiered its brand new "soap," a little gem called Dark Shadows, at 4:00 PM EST, on June 27, 1966, viewers barely noticed. They were too busy watching Days of Our Lives; Art Linkletter's House Party; Hollywood Squares; Dialing for Dollars; King Kong, and Password. Dark whatzit? Yawn!
The Alphabet Network had, by that time, grown accustomed to Nielsen's dusty cellar. Their Prime Time roster (cult phenom Batman notwithstanding) limped depressingly along, and Daytime offerings were on life support. General Hospital generated some interest, partly because star Emily McLaughlin was both a publicity magnet and gossip column staple.

Dark Shadows replaced Never Too Young, a low-rated teen-oriented soap that had starred ex-Wally Cleaver, Tony Dow. Audiences who tuned in expecting teenage angst on June 27th encountered another kind of drama: Gothic Romance, served up in the classic style.

Originally, Dark Shadows began as all good gothic stories do…with a young, innocent heroine. Victoria Winters (ingenue Alexandra Moltke) was a "girl" searching for an identity. She'd been hired as governess to 10 year old David Collins (David Henesy) and soon joined the Collins clan at Collinwood, a sprawling estate located on Maine's rugged coastline (Collinsport, fictional, but probably inspired by Camden and/or Bar Harbor).

There, Victoria came to know Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (40's film star Joan Bennett), matriarch of the Collins dynasty; imperious brother Roger Collins (Louis Edmonds), little David (Roger's impish son); Carolyn Stoddard (Nancy Barrett, an expert at playing pampered, hell-raising heiresses), housekeeper Mrs. Johnson (Clarice Blackburn), sassy waitress from the "wrong side of the tracks," Maggie Evans (Kathryn Leigh Scott), and Maggie's father, alcoholic painter, Sam Evans (David Ford). Add the vengeful Burke Devlin (Mitchell Ryan, lately of Dharma and Greg) and romantic interest Joe Haskell (Joel Crothers), and you have all the right ingredients for a tidy little melodrama.
Born an orphan (early episodes hinted that she may have been the illegitimate daughter of Elizabeth Stoddard) and raised in a Boston foundling home, Victoria couldn't quite "figure out" these strange people populating her life. Mysterious doings abounded, revolving around the great house at Collinwood. It was a nice place to visit, but hey, did she really want to live there?

What immediately separated Dark Shadows from other soaps was its breath-stealing "look." The credits depicted crashing waves, accompanied by composer Robert Cobert's eerie, somber coda. Each episode opened with a hazy shot of Collinwood, in exterior, Rhode Island's Seaview Manor, truly a grand affair. Ms. Moltke would narrate, intoning "My name is Victoria Winters…"

The supernatural elements that eventually saturated Dark Shadows were muted, at first. We had quick, intriguing glimpses of ghostly widows weeping for their lost men on "Widows' Hill," apparitions emerging from oil portraits, even a woman, Laura Collins (Diana Millay), who was the human embodiment of a mythical bird called a phoenix.

Ratings, till then barely registering, quivered slightly…an encouraging sign.
Series Creator/Executive Producer Dan Curtis then issued a startling directive to his writers: forget murder plots and love triangles--he wanted a vampire! Not long afterward (April 1967), one of cultdom's most famous bloodsuckers debuted…Barnabas Collins, immortalized by Canadian actor, Jonathan Frid.
Once Barnabas hit Collinsport (actually, he'd been there all along, ensconced within a chained coffin), Dark Shadows broke its own chains and scored as a bona fide national obsession.

I was an impressionable 14-year-old in May of 1967, but I knew my horror…and DS, as we aficionados call it, had me hooked. Granted, the proceedings were tame--I'd been raised on Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and Vincent Price--but Dark Shadows flickered into my home five days a week, free of charge. Best of all, the show based itself right here, in Maine, my home state!

No matter if summer sun was shining, friends and homework beckoned, or family activities tempted, I never missed an episode. Collinwood's Brigadoon-like dreamscape offered sanctuary from our real life world of Vietnam, college riots, inner city turmoil, and political assassinations. Vampires are one thing…firebombing children in Cambodia is definitely another.
Sometime that fall, my younger sister, Judy, did an extremely odd thing: she (gasp!) wrote fan letters to several DS stars. I noticed this development with detached, smirking bemusement. Collecting autographs held absolutely no appeal for me…but oh, as the manila envelopes slowly started arriving (containing 8 x 10 signed glossies), a monstrous feeling rose up in me. Could it be…jealousy?

Ok, yeah, I was jealous. A perfectly logical reaction, right? Why should she have all the glory? So, I observed. I learned, and before long, I, too, had put pen to paper. Heck, I went her one better and joined a fan club or two (or three)! Ta da! I'd just jumped into the wild and weird web of Dark Shadows fandom!

One rather interesting autographed cast member photo caused a stir at our house. Received by my three years younger cousin, Laurie Berube (now Kauffman), it came courtesy of Jerry Lacy, the nefarious Reverend Trask, and bore a revelatory inscription: "Is Shawmut (Maine) anywhere near Collinsport?"
Mr. Lacy's remark spoke volumes: the DS personalities did indeed answer their fan mail personally…and perhaps, just perhaps, they also took to heart our comments and words of praise. Having this little piece of knowledge lodged firmly inside my brain empowered me.

The first club I joined was for Marie Wallace, whose character--a Bride of Frankenstein inspired creation named Eve--gleefully wreaked havoc. And I, swooning, fell head over heels in love with her.

While Dark Shadows had its share of zombies, warlocks, witches, vampires, and ghosts, none but Eve considered naughtiness a virtue. Barnabas was so tormented, and even Angelique (Lara Parker), a practicing amateur witch, appeared perpetually taken aback by her own villainy. Eve, however, went at it full bore…my kind of woman!

Marie's club was run by young Brooklynlite Cathe Horodowich, and she proved a most accommodating president, graciously fulfilling my request for an 8 x 10 autographed photo of Marie. Later that summer, July 29th, 1969, to be exact, we met Marie in person (see A Boomer's Tale, Autograph Collector, May 2001) and were the proud recipients of several more 8 x 10s!

Insane activity followed. Fan letters flew from my aching hand into the mail. I kept checklists, cataloged photos, invested in frames, envelopes, and stamps. Along the way, I signed on with two more fan clubs--for Louis Edmonds (Roger Collins, et al) and Diana Millay (the afore-mentioned phoenix!). Dot Money (now Dee Kearney), out of Philadelphia, headed Louis' club, and Robert Finocchio, who called St. Louis home, chaired Diana's.

Because of Rob and Dot, I broadened my DS connections and seriously considered running a fan club myself. But for whom? At that point (November 1969), everyone "important" had a club! Stuck out in the boonies (literally!), I was woefully at a disadvantage. Hordes of kids waited outside ABC's studio in the morning and afternoon hours, descending upon the stars as they arrived and departed. How could I possibly compete?

My mind raced. There had to be a way! Think! Suddenly, opportunity knocked: Dennis Patrick returned to the show. Mr. Patrick had played blackmailer Jason McGuire in 1967, before being dispatched by Barnabas Collins. As was the case with most DS "deaths," he'd returned--this time as Paul Stoddard, presumed deceased husband of Elizabeth and father of Carolyn. Here was my chance!

I fortified myself and called Directory Assistance in Manhattan. Amazingly, they had a Dennis Patrick listed! Things were falling into place…and the more they fell, the more my heart palpitated! Fingers shaking, I dialed his number. On the third ring, a male voice answered.
"Hello?"
It was Dennis.
"Uh, hello, Mr. Patrick? My name is R-R-Rodney Labbe, and I'm a big fan of Dark Shadows. I was, uh, wondering if you, um, had a fan club, and if you didn't, could I, ah, could I have your permission to-to…(gulp!)"
A beat of silence. Then, Dennis chuckled. I wasn't sure what that meant, but who cared? "No, Rodney, I don't have a club," he answered, "and if you'd like to get one going, heh-heh, by all means, you may."

PART II

Delirium overwhelmed me. Wow, not only had I elevated myself spiritually, emotionally, and socially, I'd spoken to someone on Dark Shadows! Groovy! I wasted no time--within days, my premiere newsletter had been typed, pencils monogrammed, "official" stationery (Dashing Dennis splayed across it) printed, and membership packages put together. Dot and Bob advertised my club in their newsletters, and I sat smugly back, fully expecting a deluge.

Well, no deluge occurred, and Dennis Patrick wasn't exactly the most
cooperative star. To his credit, he did supply me with a sizable stack of autographed photos, but whenever I'd call for "career updates," I felt like an intruder. If I hadn't been so young and naïve, I would've realized Dennis had no need for a fan club. Ah, blind Ambition!

Dennis was written off the show for a second and final time, and memberships dwindled. Fans are a notoriously fickle bunch! I tried keeping his club together, until economics dictated otherwise. Broke, bankrupt, and disappointed, I called it quits after less than a year. .

Still, I maintained slavish devotion to Dark Shadows and couldn't imagine daily life without it. Besides reading magazines by the score, I compiled scrapbooks, collected gum cards (two DS sets--pink and green bordered), glued together (and displayed) a Barnabas Collins model; read Gold Key's Dark Shadows comic, listened to the DS soundtrack album, built a library of Dark Shadows paperback books (by "Marilyn Ross"), and went out on Halloween wearing authentic Barnabas Collins "vampire fangs!"

My Collinwood autograph collection included Joan Bennett; Kathryn Leigh Scott; Lara Parker; Diana Millay; Christopher (Jebez Hawkes) Pennock; Michael (Aristede) Stroka; David (Quentin Collins) Selby; Denise (Amy Jennings/Nora Collins) Nickerson; Louis Edmonds; Marie Wallace, and the crème de la crème, Jonathan Frid, AKA Barnabas Collins!

Let us pause here. In the pop culture world, certain gifted actors and actresses have attained an ersatz kind of immortality. Can you imagine anyone other than William Shatner playing Captain Kirk? Who could fill Beaver's shoes? Or Mr. Spock's? Fonzie's leather jacket? Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, and George Clooney donned cowl and utility belt, yet, to my Baby Boomer mind--and the minds of millions--there's only one Batman: Adam West. These performers are part of our collective consciousness, though they oftentimes see it as a curse--something that has hurt their careers.

Such has been the case with Canadian actor Jonathan Frid. Call it cosmic karma, or an inspired casting move, but when Frid grabbed his distinctive wolf's head cane and knocked on the front door of Collinwood, an icon was born.
Between 1967 and 1971, Frid reigned supreme. Personal appearances generated riots. His fan mail was delivered by truckload. Women (and undoubtedly, men) swooned over him, and he haunted the feverish dreams of adolescents who clung to DS like a life preserver.

Today, he's rather chagrined that people continue to ask him about Barnabas. It's easy to understand their fascination…Barnabas Collins was a sterling characterization, the penultimate combination of flawed hero and bloodthirsty villain. Jonathan Frid originated the part, created an indelible portrait, and will be remembered for generations. We should all be so fortunate.
End of dissertation!

Alas, I was not one of those lucky fans who could parlay their fan club presidency into a studio visit. To see the sets, walk into Collinwood's glorious foyer, climb that immense staircase, stare at Barnabas' portrait (up close!), and speak with the stars directly, face to face! Sigh.

Living in Maine as I did (and still do), I was simultaneously privileged and horridly out of the loop. No vampires prowled our woods, Stephen King toiled away as an anonymous college student at the University of Maine, and Jessica Fletcher had yet to solve a single crime. Don't get me wrong, Maine's a gorgeous state--one of the country's undiscovered vacation spots--but to a 16 year old boy with grand dreams and wanderlust inhabiting his soul, it seemed more a wasteland of pine trees, ocean, and potato fields.

In other words: boring! One of the chosen who did experience a studio tour was none other than Dee Kearney, life-long chum and fellow DS fan club president. Here's how she became part of DS fandemonium!

"Louis Edmonds wanted a thriving fan club," Dee explains, "but the project would involve lots of time and effort. Luckily, I had the time! I was a high school student, totally entranced by Dark Shadows, and eager to tackle my newfound duties as club president."

"We collaborated and came up with a plan: Louis forwarded me all his studio mail, and I sent out information about the club. For $1.00, fans received a complimentary 8 x 10 autographed photo, membership card, and monthly newsletter--plus extra goodies, here and there. Response was terrific…beyond my wildest expectations!"

Says she, "my best times with Louis were meeting him on-set, in New York City. What an honor! Everything looked so beautiful. The tapestries, paintings, and furniture were magnificent. Really, I had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn't just a fantasy!"

Fan club presidents, like Dee and Robert Finocchio, had their fingers firmly on the pulse. Accessible, affable, and boundlessly enthusiastic, these selfless individuals brought us all a little closer to what made Dark Shadows great: its performers, technicians, writers, producers, and directors.

Robert has a more sardonic spin on the DS fan movement. "During Dark Shadows' initial run," he reflects, "fans were warm, generous, compassionate, and considerate. They cared about the show, almost without exception."
"Nowadays," Robert sighs, shaking his head, "fandom is a whole different ball game. Many of the people involved are in it for profit's sake, rather than simple joy. Don't get me wrong--I've met and gotten to know some wonderful folks these last thirty years, but nothing compares to the fun and sincerity of those good old days."

As a holdover from that golden era, I can attest to Rob's devotion, his dedication and love for Dark Shadows. We "hit it off," as they say, and his letters (or should I say missives, since they rarely were less than 10 handwritten pages) plugged me into another world far removed from my secluded New England existence. Through Dee and Robert, I got a taste of Pennsylvania and Missouri, learned about Diana Millay's television and film career, Louis' interest in cabaret music. It was an electrifying network, and I'm very happy, especially in retrospect, to have been a part of it all.

Sadly, by 1970, Dark Shadows was losing its luster, as old cast members departed, replaced by less familiar faces. In October, House of Dark Shadows hit my local Cineplex, the first (and only) soap opera to get big "silver screen" treatment! Basically encapsulating Barnabas' arrival at Collinwood, HODS gave me bang for my buck…but it wasn't enough.

The Leviathan storyline (based upon HP Lovecraft's Necrominicon) had alienated DS core audience, and ratings dropped precariously. They would not recover. Finally, word reached me: Dark Shadows was going to be cancelled, the last episode airing April 2, 1971. I reacted nonchalantly. High school graduation loomed, followed by an exciting "adult" life. Dark Shadows--and everything connected to it, including my pen-pal friendships--represented the past, a closed chapter.

Or so I thought.

1976. Dark Shadows enters syndication, and a local independent station deems to run one installment per evening. As I watch from our darkened living room, I'm transported…back before anyone had ever heard of Watergate, disco, Bicentennial Minutes, and Jimmy Carter. It's like visiting an old friend again, and the unexpected rush of nostalgia leaves me misty-eyed.

That summer ends up a DS renaissance. In August, David Selby--who'd played rakish Quentin Collins--appeared at Madison, Maine's historic Lakewood Theater in a stock production of Eccentricities of a Nightingale. I'd never seen a Tennessee Williams play, and the added attraction of meeting another DS alumnus made it an even sweeter prospect. So, off to Madison I went, on a spectacular blue-sky afternoon, my old Dark Shadows soundtrack album in tow.

After the production--a depressing period drama starring Betsy Palmer--I retreated behind the theater, where I found Mr. Selby, looking exactly like Quentin! We were alone, too, a significant change from those raucous fan-filled DS studio days, I'm sure!

Personable, quick to smile, answering my questions with the slightest of West Virginian twang, David Selby is a genuine Southern gentleman. He signed my album (as well as a photo), wished me well, and I walked away on a cloud. Fan letters are great…but there's nothing better than meeting your favorite personalities, live and in person.

Flash forward to 1999. Surfing the Internet one dreary day, I find a message board devoted to Dark Shadows and post an innocuous remark about being an "old" fan club president. Another post appears, asking if I hailed from Maine home and did I have two sisters? Instantly, I'm rekindling friendships with Dee Kearney and Robert Finocchio, bridging a 30 year gap that has seen us all into middle-age!

It's been madness since, but madness of the best kind! Sci-Fi Channel broadcasts twice-daily episodes of Dark Shadows, and yearly conventions attract thousands of fans, young old, and not-so-old. There's constant industry talk of a revival (one did, indeed, enjoy a brief stay on NBC in early 1991, featuring a new cast. Excellently done, it failed to find an audience); movies, even a Broadway musical. Books, CDs, DVDs (two deluxe sets were recently released by MPI) , videotapes, magazines, and collectibles honoring Dark Shadows' incredible legacy proliferate.

And the phenomenon continues…

Now, because of technology, I can return to Collinwood day or night, revisiting not only Victoria Winters, but a childhood brighter than any scrapbook memory.
Dare I say it? Oh, why not! Like Barnabas Collins, Dark Shadows will live forever!

DARK SHADOWS
CONTACT INFORMATION

Return to Main Page Marie Wallace Online © 2004 Marie Wallace ALL RIGHTS RESERVED