The afternoon sun was casting long, amber shadows across the patio as Loretta Swit watched the man she had called “Colonel” for so many years. Harry Morgan sat…

It was a late afternoon in a quiet studio, decades after the swamp had been packed away and the olive drab fatigues had been retired to a museum….

I remember sitting on that stage during the 30th-anniversary reunion, looking out at a sea of fans who had grown up with us. A young man in the…

The voice was unmistakable. It was a rich, mid-Atlantic baritone that seemed to vibrate with a natural authority and a touch of upper-class disdain. For years, the world…

Host: “So Gary, I have to ask. We all grew up watching you tilt your head, freeze the entire camp with a look, and mutter ‘Choppers.’ It became…

The studio lights were a bit softer than the harsh California sun Jamie Farr remembered from the seventies, but the sparkle in his eyes hadn’t dimmed a bit….

For most of the world, he was the embodiment of upper-crust rigidity. As Major Charles Emerson Winchester III on MAS*H, David Ogden Stiers perfected the art of the…

I was sitting on a panel a few years back at a small theater in North Hollywood. There was a young actor in the second row, maybe twenty-two…

The sun was beginning to dip behind the jagged peaks of the Santa Monica mountains, casting long, amber shadows across the vintage airfield. Loretta Swit sat wrapped in…