THE SURGERY WAS CRITICAL… BUT THE CORPSE FINALLY HAD ENOUGH
The studio lights are low, and the air is filled with that sterile, hushed expectancy that comes with a high-end podcast recording. Mike Farrell sits across from the…
THE SMELL OF THE DUST… AND THE TRUTH IN HAWKEYE’S EYES
The air in the museum archive was sterile, smelling faintly of white gloves and preserved history. Alan Alda walked slowly between the rows of crates, his hands tucked…
THE ARISTOCRAT’S COLD EXTERIOR… BUT THE COLONEL SAW THE TRUTH
The late afternoon sun was slanting through the window of a quiet living room in the Pacific Northwest. David Ogden Stiers sat in a high-backed armchair, his posture…
THE GOLDEN GOWN THAT TURNED THE COLONEL INTO A COMEDIAN
The studio lights were dimmed, casting a warm glow over the velvet chairs where Jamie Farr sat, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The host…
WINCHESTER FINALLY STOPPED THE MUSIC AND THE SILENCE WAS TOO REAL
The restaurant was too quiet for a Friday night, the kind of place where you could hear the ice settle in a glass three tables away. David Ogden…
HOLLYWOOD’S MOST ARROGANT MAJOR… BUT HIS REAL PASSION WAS SILENCE
The world knew him as Major Charles Emerson Winchester III. He was the man who could make a simple request for a glass of sherry sound like a…
THE SOUND THAT HAUNTS THE CAST OF MASH FORTY YEARS LATER
Jamie Farr was sitting on a quiet porch in Southern California when the sky started to vibrate. Beside him, Gary Burghoff didn’t even have to look up to…
JAMIE FARR RECALLS THE ABSOLUTE CHAOS OF THE KLINGER WEDDING DRESS
I was sitting on a small, rickety stage at a fan convention a few years ago, and the room was packed with people wearing olive drab t-shirts. A…
THE MOMENT FATHER MULCAHY SAW THE REAL KLINGER FOR THE FIRST TIME.
The afternoon sun in California always had a way of looking like Korea if you squinted just right. Jamie Farr sat across from William Christopher, the two of…
THE DAY THE MASH JEEP BECAME A SEAFOOD CONVECTION OVEN
Gary Burghoff leans back in the leather chair, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that immediately evokes the ghost of Walter “Radar” O’Reilly. He is…