Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 204: The unveiling of Ed Wood's historical marker

A glimpse at the unveiling of Ed Wood's historical marker.

Since Thanksgiving is approaching and most Americans are preoccupied with travel, relatives, decorating, shopping, and food—or possibly all of these—I thought I'd keep it especially light and informal this week. So no big Ed Wood revelations or in-depth Ed Wood reviews, okay? Let's just have a little Ed Wood fun.

Pretty in pink?

Last Wednesday, I told you about how a New York State historical marker was being placed in front of Ed Wood's childhood home at 35 Delano Street in Poughkeepsie, thanks to the efforts of some high school students in teacher Robert McHugh's AP history class in Dutchess County. Those enterprising youngsters cited this very blog in their application to a nonprofit organization called the William G. Pomeroy Foundation, which seeks to denote places of historical significance in the state of New York. 

And, after two years, it worked! The Foundation agreed to mark Eddie's former home with a permanent, bright blue-and-yellow sign. Anyone who walks or drives by 35 Delano Street will know that this was once the home of the director of Glen or Glenda (1953). None of this could have happened without the research of such esteemed Woodologists as Greg Dziawer and James Pontolillo, both of whom have made invaluable contributions to this blog.

I couldn't be there for the unveiling of the sign, unfortunately, but I did write a speech for the occasion. That speech was delivered for me by director and film programmer Katie Cokinos. You can view a gallery of photos from the event right here. In some of the pictures, you can see that the marker was hidden under a pink cloth before it was revealed. To my eyes, at least from a distance, the sign appears to be wearing its very own pink angora sweater! What could be more appropriate?

A 16-minute video of the unveiling ceremony has also been posted to Instagram for those who would care to watch it. It includes Katie's speech, if that's a selling point. You'll really get a sense of how charming this building on Delano Street truly is. This is some old-school construction, and it has a lot more personality than the soulless architecture we see today. I'd be proud to live in a place like this. 

Before we leave this topic in the rearview mirror, I'd like to share an email I received from Katie the day after the unveiling:

Hi Joe,

What an amazing event! Ed Wood’s birthplace, 35 Delano (as in Franklin Delano Roosevelt), around the corner from the Bardavon Theater, the house is owned by Roberto Rossi whose family has a deli, Rossi and Sons, a block away. Robert McHugh, history teacher at Arlington High School, organized the memorial and event along with his students. And your wonderful, inspiring, informative tribute got a rousing applause. Love that this happened during his 100th year. I felt Edward Davis Wood Jr. smiling.

Thank you for participating albeit through your writing,

I only wish I could have been there in person!

Podcast Tuesday: "Rome (If You Want To)"

Fonzie (Henry Winkler) enjoys Rome.

If you were doing a time travel show and had all of history to play with, where would you send your characters? Caveman times? The far future? Ancient Egypt? The Old West? Hanna-Barbera's animated series The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang (1980-81) did all of those and more in its first season. It took until Season 2, however, before Fonzie (Henry Winkler) and his pals finally got to Ancient Rome.

This week on These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast, we're talking about that episode, "There's No Place Like Rome." It features most of what you'd expect: togas, lions, chariots, centurions, a colosseum, etc. You want men in skirts? You got 'em. Speaking of which, the show has used real historical figures occasionally, including Cleopatra, but this time they substitute a fictional character called Julius Maximus for Julius Caesar. The plot of "No Place" has Maximus trying to conquer some unnamed walled city and marry the king's daughter against her will. Naturally, his plans go up in smoke when Fonzie and friends arrive in their flying time machine.

Does this episode get a thumbs up or a thumbs down? Find out below.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 203: The saga of Ed Wood's historical marker

This house on Delano Street in Poughkeepsie was once Ed Wood's home.

And the year of Ed Wood continues! The 100th anniversary of Eddie's birth has brought with it many marvelous surprises, including some recognition from the director's home state of New York. On Wednesday, November 20, 2024, an official historical marker is being placed at 35 Delano Street in Poughkeepsie, New York to denote it as Ed Wood's childhood home. Amazingly, this blog played some small role in that achievement.

In June 2024, I received this intriguing email from a man named Robert McHugh:

I am a teacher near Poughkeepsie and for the past couple of years I have had my students apply for funding for historic markers for sites in Dutchess County. This year, one group of students decided to try for a marker about Ed Wood. They used some of the material from your site—the reference to the wedding announcement of his parents in the Kingston paper was especially helpful—as part of the grant application. 

Good news: they were successful and there is now a historic marker being made that will likely be installed sometime over the next few months. (It takes quite a while to fabricate them; I don't know if we will have it by October 10 for his birthday.) It's going to go in front of one of the homes he lived in, at 35 Delano St. 

I'm not sure if you happen to live anywhere near Poughkeepsie, but we would love to invite you to the unveiling, whenever that would be. 

Thanks for posting all that great information about him online.

I thanked Robert for the email and gave due credit to Greg Dziawer, who has written extensively about Ed Wood's early life in Poughkeepsie for this blog. Greg, in turn, has credited the formidable James Pontolillo for his tireless (and ongoing!) research into Ed's New York years. Unfortunately, since I live in the suburbs of Chicago and work full time, I had to tell Robert that attending the unveiling of the marker was not possible.

In October, Robert gave me an exciting update: "The Ed Wood marker has finally been made. Now we have to figure out how to install it and think about an unveiling ceremony." In assembling the ceremony, Robert reached out to director and film programmer Katie Cokinos, who organized the special screening of Ed Wood (1994) that I attended virtually on Ed's 100th birthday last month. Knowing I would be unable to be there in person, Katie very nicely asked me to write a speech for the occasion. Here is that speech:

Ladies and gentlemen:

We are gathered here on this wonderful occasion to honor the memory of a man who received very little recognition in his own lifetime. Edward Davis Wood, Jr. was born in Poughkeepsie, New York on October 10, 1924 and became enamored of show business and the movies at a young age. He even worked as an usher at the Bardavon Theater on Market Street. I can imagine he spent many hours in that place, staring up at the screen and gazing in amazement at the larger-than-life figures projected there. He especially loved the cowboy stars, like Buck Jones, and of course the great horror icon Bela Lugosi.

For many of us, that's where the journey would end. We're content just to watch the screen and to live vicariously through other people's stories. We still do that today, except the screens have gotten much smaller and we can carry them in our pockets. But that wasn't enough for our Eddie. He didn't just want to watch other people's adventures. He wanted to have adventures of his own. That instinct led him, after a stint in the Marines during World War II, to Hollywood in the late 1940s.

 

Heed the words of Lyle Talbot.

Once on the West Coast, Ed Wood did everything he could to make his mark as a writer, director, and producer of motion pictures. And that's not all! He acted on both stage and screen, made TV commercials and pilots, and penned countless novels, short stories, and magazine articles. There seemed to be no end to his creativity or his ambition. Along the way, he attempted just about every kind of story there is: science-fiction, horror, Westerns, and even crime thrillers. He may never have gotten to work with Buck Jones, but he did work extensively with Bela Lugosi and even befriended the great horror icon. Bela wound up appearing in all three of Ed's most famous films: GLEN OR GLENDA, BRIDE OF THE MONSTER, and the infamous PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE.

During his own, rather short time on this earth, Ed Wood received very little praise or recognition from the entertainment industry. He wasn't getting positive reviews in the press or awards from his colleagues. To the extent that Ed's films were noticed at all, they were mocked and derided for their low budgets, unlikely dialogue, and outrageous storylines. And yet, his quirky, memorable films have struck a nerve with fans for decades, and those fans have kept Eddie's memory alive long after his death in 1978. This year alone , the 100th anniversary of Ed Wood's birth, there have been at least three major new books about him, and his films continue to be shown in theaters across the country and re-released for home viewing as well.

And now, we place this marker at Ed Wood's childhood home. I am certain that Eddie would be flattered and thrilled by this honor. And if there is anything we can learn from his life, it's that we shouldn't be content to sit on the sidelines and watch other people do all the exciting things we wish we could do ourselves. As Lyle Talbot says in GLEN OR GLENDA, "We only have one life to live. We throw that one away, what is there left?"

I don't know if Katie will actually deliver that speech at the ceremony, but it was so nice to be asked. As for the marker, here is what it will look like. Perhaps, if you live near Poughkeepsie, you can stop by 35 Delano Street and see it for yourself someday.

This handsome blue and yellow marker stands as a tribute to Ed Wood.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 202: Kathy Wood gives her side of the story

Kathy Wood, seen here with her dog McGinty in 1988, was married to Ed for over twenty years. 

Bob Blackburn's recently-published book, Kathy Wood & I: How I Fell Down the Ed Wood Jr. Rabbit Hole (Bear Manor Media, 2024), documents the author's decade-plus friendship with Ed Wood's widow, Kathleen O'Hara Everett Wood (1922-2006). Bob approached the publicity-shy Kathy shortly after attending a marathon of Wood's movies in 1992 and, after a few false starts, slowly but surely gained her trust. Bob remained her pal and confidant until Kathy's death in 2006.

Kathy's late husband started becoming more well-known during these years, largely because of Rudolph Grey's oral history, Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood Jr. (1992). That book was adapted into a lavish, star-studded biopic called Ed Wood (1994) by director Tim Burton, with Johnny Depp in the title role and Patricia Arquette playing Kathy. The publicity generated by Burton's movie led to some home video rereleases of Ed's vintage films and a smattering of documentaries, TV specials, and articles about the infamous director and his career. A radio industry professional himself and the son of a popular sportscaster, Bob Blackburn was there to serve as Kathy's guide through these unlikely events.

As a bonus, Kathy Wood & I includes a letter that Kathy drafted in 1998 and submitted to a Los Angeles probate court as part of a dispute over Ed Wood's estate. Her purpose in writing it was to demonstrate that she was Ed's partner, not just his wife. I didn't mention any of this in my review of the book last week, but I thought Kathy's letter deserved some extra attention, as it's really the closest thing to an autobiography she ever wrote. It also offers a fascinating glimpse into Ed Wood's private life that we won't get anywhere else.

A Canadian who relocated to Los Angeles in 1954 for professional reasons, Kathy O'Hara Everett first spotted Edward Davis Wood, Jr. in 1955 when they both started attending meetings of the Church of Religious Science at the Wiltern Theatre. Kathy considered Ed quite handsome but noticed he was always alone at these lectures. They finally met a few months later when a down-on-his luck Eddie approached Kathy at a Hollywood night spot called The Cameo Room. They remained a couple for the rest of Ed's life, eloping to Las Vegas in 1956 and staying married for 22 years.

"Life with Eddie wasn't a bed of roses," Kathy writes, "and I paid dearly for loving and standing by him." This sentence serves as a thesis statement for the entire letter.

Kathy Wood helped write this scene.

By the time he met Kathy, Ed was 31 and had already made Glen or Glenda (1953), Jail Bait (1954), and Bride of the Monster (1955), but his most famous film, Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), was still on the horizon. The creation of that now-classic sci-fi film is a big part of Kathy's letter. She served as Ed's typist and creative consultant on the script, as she details:

It was during this time that Eddie started writing Plan Nine from Outer Space (Grave Robbers From Outer Space). We spent many hours discussing the story and dialogue and the plot. I helped him with my ideas and typed a large part of the script as usual. It was a happy time and a crazy time. [...] Ed and I kept working on the Grave Robbers script, both of us throwing lines back and forth to each other. I remember one Sunday afternoon we were both stumped for some kind of horrific bomb. I grabbed our Bible and was reading it when some certain passage came to mind. Something about the powers of the sun (or the "Solarnite" bomb in the script). We had a lot of fun talking ideas back and forth on the script.

I've heard Kathy tell similar stories in documentaries about her husband, and I feel that the Bible passage she is referencing must be Revelation 16:8-9, which states: "The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and the sun was allowed to scorch people with fire. They were seared by the intense heat and they cursed the name of God, who had control over these plagues, but they refused to repent and glorify him." Let's face it, if there's a book of the Bible that would have appealed to Eddie, it's Revelation, with its often surreal, grotesque, apocalyptic imagery.

For the most part, Kathy's letter describes her often chaotic domestic life with Ed Wood. Surprisingly, there were many good times along the way—pool parties, vacations, nights on the town. The Woods were social animals, and their circle of friends included many of the kooky characters we know from Ed's movies: Duke Moore, David De Mering, Bunny Breckinridge, Tor and Karl Johnson, Kenne Duncan, Dudley Manlove, and Paul Marco. These folks often did what they could to save Ed from impending doom, but occasionally, they couldn't even save themselves. That's life in Hollywood for you. It seems Ed and Kathy could never hold onto a residence or a vehicle for long, and Kathy's letter is full of  stories of disputes with various landlords, including Plan 9 investor Ed Reynolds.

Money, or the lack of it, became the dominant issue in the Woods' lives. (Isn't that true for most of us?) While Kathy worked as a secretary and stenographer at various companies, including Muzak, Eddie's career as a writer-director was unreliable at best. He'd sell a screenplay or a novel, but the money would soon be gone. She also claims that some of Steve Apostolof's checks to Eddie bounced, which may explain her longstanding resentment toward the director-producer and his "cheap girly movies." Kathy does not dwell on Eddie's raging alcoholism, even though it was the chief cause of his professional decline and early death. As Kathy sees it, the drinking was just part of the problem, along with Eddie's "cranky" moods and his consumption of salty foods.

Every Ed Wood fan knows how this sordid story ends. In December 1978, the Woods were evicted from their Yucca St. apartment by the local sheriff and had to move in with actor Peter Coe. They'd undergone similar trials in the past, even rooming with Duke Moore in his one-bedroom unit for a while, but this final disgrace proved too much for Eddie. He died heartbroken—literally and figuratively—on December 10, 1978, at the age of 54. Kathy's letter comes to an abrupt conclusion here: "Our world had ended." There's no redemption arc, no deus ex machina, just loss and despair. She does not mention Ed's posthumous, ironic fame.

And yet, Kathy's letter is not merely an exercise in misery. She clearly had a lot of fond memories of her late husband, and that comes through in her writing about their marriage. She relates a bittersweet anecdote about the time Eddie tried (unsuccessfully) to nurse an injured bird back to health, for instance. She also remembers the way he kept her and a neighborhood child enraptured for hours with his action-packed and largely fabricated World War II stories. That child, Tim Brockman, grew up to be a helicopter pilot in the Vietnam War.

Above all, through this letter, we get little glimpses of Ed Wood in his prime, back when he was still the life of the party. You can almost see why Kathy stuck by him for so many years, possibly hoping the old spark would somehow return. As it says on Kathy's grave: "She hitched her wagon to a star."

Kathy Wood and I: How I Fell Down the Angora Rabbit Hole is available in hardcover, paperback, and Kindle editions right here. Or you can purchase it directly from the publisher.

Podcast Tuesday: "Love in a Cold Climate"

There's a lot going on here, right?

It's now been more than two decades since I was a teacher. It's the only job I ever actually trained to do, and I completely failed at it. I was beyond terrible. After just a few miserable years of "teaching" English and Spanish at the junior and senior high school level in the early 2000s, I crashed, burned, and bailed. Since abruptly leaving education, I've been staggering blindly through the professional world with no game plan whatsoever. Out of necessity, I take literally whatever work comes along just to keep up with my rent and other bills. It's a stressful way to live, but fortunately, I still have some free time to write articles about Ed Wood and cohost a podcast about the sitcom Happy Days. 

Should I have stuck with it? I don't think so. For the first few years after my teaching career ended, I would have occasional nightmares that I was back in the classroom, losing control of my students, and I would wake up in the middle of the night in a total panic. Happily, that went away over time. I don't really think much about my days as an educator anymore... unless something triggers a flashback, that is. 

I had such a flashback this week when my cohost and I reviewed a 1981 episode of The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang called "Fjords and Sorcery." The episode is rooted in Norse mythology, and it brought me back to the sad days when I actually had to teach a mythology class to bored, hostile high school kids. I have no background in mythology, so I really knew no more about the subject than they did. So did those experiences color my opinion of the episode? You can find out below, and I hope that you do.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 201: 'Kathy Wood & I: How I Fell Down the Ed Wood, Jr. Rabbit Hole' (2024)

Bob Blackburn (left) befriended Ed Wood's widow, Kathy, in her later years.

Picture this. 

You're about to go on a long bus trip—Tulsa to Milwaukee, let's say. Right before the bus leaves the station, a gentleman takes the seat next to you. With his graying beard, ponytail, casual wardrobe, and overall laid-back demeanor, he seems like he could be a classic rock DJ or possibly an ex-roadie. Maybe he's a distant relative of Jeff Bridges' The Dude from The Big Lebowski (1998). The gentleman notices you're wearing a Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) T-shirt and asks, in an unmistakable California accent, if you're an Ed Wood fan. You say sure. And then, with no more prompting than that, he launches into the story of how he met Ed's somewhat reclusive widow, Kathy, in the early '90s and remained her friend until her death in 2006. 

This was a fairly busy and interesting time in Kathy's life, since it saw the release of two major Wood-related films, Tim Burton's Ed Wood (1994) and Aris Ilipoulos' I Woke Up Early the Day I Died (1997), plus the publication of Ed's long-lost manuscript, Hollywood Rat Race (1998). If that weren't enough, a couple of Ed's vintage novels came back into print during these years, and there were various stage shows and documentaries inspired by Ed's life and work. The gentleman sitting next to you on the bus tells you he was there to guide Kathy through all of this. He even put her in touch with legal counsel, specifically an entertainment lawyer named Robert Weinberg.

Bob's new book.

Imagine further that this conversation were transcribed word-for-word and then published as a book. You now have a good idea of what it's like to read Bob Blackburn's Kathy Wood and I: How I Fell Down the Ed Wood Jr. Rabbit Hole (Bear Manor, 2024). If you can't take Bob himself with you on your next bus trip, taking a copy of this book is the next best thing. Truth is, Bob makes for a very entertaining traveling companion. This book is every bit as informal and unpretentious as its author. Kathy Wood and I is not really a biography of Kathy or Ed; it's more of a collection of affectionate memories being recorded for posterity. Bob jumps around in the timeline quite a bit; you get the sense that he's writing these things down in the order they occur to him.

Years ago, when this series of mine was still in its infancy, I learned you don't get far in Woodology before crossing paths with Bob Blackburn. Forget finding him; he'll find you. The man is relentless. I've called him "the keeper of the flame," and that's really what he is in the world of Wood fandom. Not only did he start an extremely active Facebook group devoted to Ed Wood, he's also the man responsible for the three (count 'em) anthologies of Eddie's magazine work from the 1960s and '70s. Bob tracked down those stories and articles one by one, purchased the (often pricey) publications in which they first appeared, and then arranged for them to be republished so that we could enjoy them today.

And now, with this book, Bob has given us the most intimate portrayal of Kathy Wood that we're likely to get. Ed and Kathy met in late 1955 and were married in Las Vegas in 1956. Kathy remained with Ed until the truly bitter end in December 1978. She was his other half for the last two decades of his life, and yet, how much do we really know about her? As portrayed in Ed Wood by actress Patricia Arquette, she's a demure, soft-spoken lady who warms to the quirky yet lovable Eddie (Johnny Depp) quite quickly and isn't scared off by his cross-dressing or his dicey-at-best showbiz career. 

Rudolph Grey's oral history Nightmare of Ecstasy (1992) gives us a few more glimpses of Kathy's tumultuous, sometimes violent life with Eddie in the 1960s and '70s. These are some of the most depressing passages in Grey's book, as Ed's alcoholism worsened and his career and lifestyle deteriorated dramatically during these years. No matter how bad things got, however, his wife remained by his side. Kathy Wood essentially grabbed Ed's hand as he dove headfirst into hell. And, for better or worse, she never let go. How many of us can say we'd have done the same?

Kathy Wood's favorite soup.

By the time she met Bob Blackburn in 1992, Kathy Wood was 70 years old, retired, and living on a fixed income in a modest Hollywood apartment not far from the one she and her husband had shared during their tragic final years together. In the 1980s, she'd had to undergo open heart surgery due to years of smoking, and this had slowed her down somewhat. Like many older people, she was quite set in her ways and not especially keen to make new friends or even talk to strangers. She was especially wary of Ed Wood fans who only approached her because of her famous dead husband, a man she both loved and hated.

But Bob was not discouraged. He was living in the same building as Kathy and gradually gained her trust, one interaction at a time. Eventually, their friendship progressed to the point that Bob would hang out at her apartment regularly and hear stories of the old days or just shoot the breeze. He even took Kathy to movies from time to time. (An appendix in the book dutifully lists all the films Bob and Kathy saw together.) As Kathy's health declined and her social circle shrank, Bob truly became one of her closest companions. In the abstract, Bob and Kathy's relationship bears a passing resemblance to the unlikely friendship that Ed Wood forged with Bela Lugosi toward the end of Bela's life in the 1950s.

The best thing about Kathy Wood and I is that it lets us spend some quality time, so to speak, with its title subject. We readers may never have gotten a chance to meet Kathy or speak with her, but Bob Blackburn certainly did, and now he's telling us what that experience was like—right down to fairly minute details, like Kathy's love of Andersen's split pea soup and her devotion to then-acclaimed actor Kevin Spacey. This book reminds us that Kathy Everett O'Hara's life did not end when Ed died in 1978. She survived for two and a half more decades and experienced such major events as the L.A. riots of 1992 and the Northridge earthquake of 1994. Above all, she was a human being, with all the foibles and complexities you'd expect anyone to have. Bob's book may be our last, best chance to get to know this woman.

Kathy Wood and I: How I Fell Down the Angora Rabbit Hole is available in hardcover, paperback, and Kindle editions right here. Or you can purchase it directly from the publisher.