 
            
Richard Chamberlain with directors Leo Penn and Wilbur Mosier on the set of Dr. Kildare in 1964.
Photo courtesy of the Los Angeles Times Photographic Collection at the UCLA Library
In the early 1960’s Americans were divided by three great debates: Coke or Pepsi? Ginger or Mary Ann? And Kildare or Casey? The latter referred to two competing medical dramas that ran concurrently from 1961 to 1966: Ben Casey which aired on ABC, starred Vince Edwards, and Dr. Kildare, which was broadcast on NBC, starred Richard Chamberlain. The two heartthrobs couldn’t have been more different. Casey was ruggedly handsome with dark features and a dark personality to match, while Kildare was gentle, soft-spoken, and drop-dead gorgeous. We manly men liked Casey, while women swooned over Kildare.
Like his TV character, Chamberlain was a nice guy in real life, something I discovered when I met him on location in Virginia in 1985 while he was filming Dream West. By then Richard was already a global star and had become known as “King of the Miniseries”, yet he was unaffected by his fame and was unpretentious in his manner. Unlike method actors like Daniel Day Lewis, Chamberlain was just a regular guy who didn’t demand to be referred to by his character name between takes. He was a cultural icon for his talent and later on for how he dealt with a personal struggle over his sexuality. In later years he lived a quiet life in his beloved Hawaii, and that is where he died on March 29 at the age of 90.
Richard Chamberlain was born in Los Angeles to a loving mother and an abusive father. Early on he wanted to become an artist, but after college, he caught the acting bug. Richard served a short stint in the Army during the Korean War, after which he landed numerous guest-starring roles on hit TV shows such as Gunsmoke and Alfred Hitchcock Presents But unlike many of his contemporaries who struggled to find work early on, Richard had a meteoric rise to fame when he landed the titular role in Dr. Kildare.
Following his stint on Dr. Kildare, Chamberlain appeared on stage and in films such as Joy in the Morning, The Three Musketeers, and The Towering Inferno. But it was his success in the TV mini-series genre that made him a household fixture in the 1970s and ‘80s in such hits as Centennial, Shogun, Dream West, and The Thorn Birds. Richard’s talents were always in demand, and he was constantly working as a leading romantic figure, but only because he kept his sexuality hidden from fans. Unlike today where TV viewers and moviegoers could care less if an actor is gay, back then a career could be destroyed by revealing one’s sexual preference.
Richard finally came out with the publication of his autobiography, “Shattered Love” in 2003, after which he developed a whole new fan base by guest starring on TV shows like Desperate Housewives, and Will & Grace.
Still, it is sad that such a kind and talented man should have had to endure the stress of hiding his true identity in order to stay employed in his chosen field.
It is said that a good actor is someone who can make us believe he is really someone else. Richard Chamberlain did that all of his life, not just for the art, but for his very survival.
That made him more than just a good actor. It made him a great one.
 
 




 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            
 
            





 


























Posted April 23, 2025 By Triad TodayRemembering Jack Hilliard
Jim Longworth with documentary producers Jack Hilliard, Bill Gordon, and Tim Auman, working on a Bicentennial special titled
So You Think You Know the Constitution
“He’s just the nicest guy.” It’s a phrase we’ve all used at one time or another to describe someone we know. In truth, though, it’s a rather disingenuous superlative. After all, who could actually be that nice? Who could have a positive attitude all of the time, is a good listener, and treats everyone with respect? What kind of guy never loses his temper, has an impish smile, and gives 110% to everything he does? There’s just no one like that…except Jack Hilliard.
I first met Jack 51 years ago when I was hired to work on his studio production crew at WFMY-TV. I was excited to be working in television, and I wanted to do a good job for Jack, whether I was sweeping floors, operating a camera, or loading graphics. And, I wasn’t alone. Everyone who worked with Jack wanted to please him, because we liked and respected him. He could tell you what to do without yelling or talking down to you, and that just made us all work that much harder. Funny thing, but I never asked Jack how old he was. I knew there was an age difference between us, but he always had so much energy that I figured he was some sort of Peter Pan-like character who would live forever. Sadly, forever came too soon. Jack died on April 10 after a brief illness. He was 85.
Kenneth Jackson Hilliard, Jr. was born in Asheboro, attended Asheboro High School, and graduated from UNC, so it is understandable that his all-time sports hero was Carolina football stand-out Charlie Choo Choo Justice who went on to play for the Washington Redskins (naturally Jack’s favorite NFL team). When I worked with Jack he had not yet met the love of his life, Marla. Back then he was a confirmed bachelor who scooted around town in a sporty black Pontiac Firebird and was best buds with his dog Tom Tom.
Jack worked for WFMY for over 40 years, the latter 15 of which were spent as producer/director of the Good Morning Show. However, in the early 1970’s our production team worked the night shift, which meant taping The Old Rebel Show in the afternoon and doing newscasts at 6 p.m. and 11 p.m. In those days Jack was a technical director and punching live news shows was a pressure cooker job. Unlike today when digital technology and computers can be programmed and store all sorts of information, Jack had to juggle multiple sources every single second, coordinating news packages that had been shot on film, sports and weather graphics that were being updated by the minute, and doing all that while timing every element to the exact frame so that viewers saw a seamless presentation. Not just anybody could do what Jack did and stay calm while doing it. I’ve worked with lots of directors over the past five decades, and in the “old” days of television, most of them yelled, screamed, and used foul language when calling out instructions over the headset. Not Jack. No matter how many balls he was juggling during a half-hour newscast, he never raised his voice once and never chastised the crew if we made a mistake.
Of course, we also worked on less stressful projects together like the special program I produced and hosted with Red Skelton which Jack directed, and the bicentennial documentary he helped me with. But whether I was running the camera, doing the late-night weather, or interviewing celebrities, Jack was always there to support me.
Those of us lucky enough to be on Jack’s crew were a family, even away from the studio. For example, between news shows, we would go out to dinner at Stamey’s BBQ or Libby Hill, and after we wrapped up the 11 o’clock show, we would often go grab breakfast at IHOP, play night tennis, or journey up to the client viewing area and load up an old film. We all loved what we were doing, and we loved doing it under Jack’s guidance.
In the years since then, Jack and I would meet for lunch, talk by phone, and email each other, but not often enough, and that is something I deeply regret. I didn’t know he had been sick and so I was shocked to hear that my ageless friend had passed away. Jack was a friend and a mentor, and if anyone ever asks me to describe him, I’ll say without hesitation or exaggeration, “Jack Hilliard was just the nicest guy.”