Seeing A Chorus Line at the Shubert Theatre in Los Angeles was a birthday gift from my aunt for my 16th birthday. Little did I know how that Saturday afternoon would put my life on a completely different path.
The show prompted me to become the ardent fan of Broadway musicals that I am today. There was something about the rush of adrenalin I felt throughout the show and particularly at the start of the fully-produced version of “One” that closes A Chorus Line.
But there was something more than that. Something I kept to myself and would never reveal to my aunt. I shared something in common with the character of Paul San Marco. I knew at the age of 16 that I was gay. I also had been molested when I was younger by a music teacher. Hearing Paul’s story late in the show made me realize I wasn’t alone in my experiences.
If you’ve never seen him perform the monologue, here is a link to a really dreadful looking clip, but it still offers the power of his work.
The man who played Paul in both the original cast and in the show’s first production in Los Angeles was Sammy Williams. Sammy won the Tony Award for his heartbreaking performance in the show.
This weekend, Sammy Williams passed away after a battle with cancer. Over the past seven years or so, I became friends with Sammy. We weren’t close, but I couldn’t help but think that each time I spoke to him that he was such an integral part of the man I have become.
In 2015, he was doing a show at the Gardenia Room. I met with Sammy at a diner in North Hollywood to talk to him about the show, A Chorus Line and his life and career for a column I wrote for Los Angeles Magazine. He told me he was going to be doing Paul’s monologue for the very last time. He had previously performed the monologue at the Gardenia in 2013 for what he said was the first time in decades.
When we spoke during that interview, it was clear he felt that people never saw anything more to him than A Chorus Line.
“It’s not all of my life. It’s only part of my life. So there are other areas of my life I want to share with people. Certainly you draw people in with the thing that made you famous, but you don’t spend your whole night talking about the past. You want to bring people up to where you are today.”
Sammy told me he was writing a book to tell the true story of his experiences with A Chorus Line. I don’t know how far he got with that or if he even ever started it. I hope he did. It was clear that there was a lot he wanted to say. (Much of what he told me in our interview was off-the-record, but would no doubt become a part of the planned book.)
As for the future he told me, “I’m at an age now where having a career is not so important than just having fun. I don’t have to pursue a career. I’ve had my career. My career was brilliant and fabulous and I accomplished everything and more that I ever wanted to accomplish. But today, I don’t have that ‘thing’ hanging over me that I have to accomplish because I’ve already accomplished it. That’s not to say that I’ve given up. I’ll never give up. I just want to have fun and enjoy the art of performance. If I get a show, if I get to do a show, or doing my one-man show, whatever it is, I get to fulfill my soul, my passion in life. But I don’t have to stress out that I need to accomplish anything.”
Obituaries that have run since Sammy passed away said he essentially gave up performing after A Chorus Line. I wish they had remembered that he was in the revival of Follies when it came to the Ahmanson Theatre in 2012. Sammy was quite fond of that experience.
“Follies was just wonderful. It was a great part. The cast that I worked with was really sensational. I wish I had been part of it from the beginning. It was over way too soon. It was like being back on Broadway it was so well done. It was up there. It was real class. It was a real class act. I went to opening night in New York City of Follies at the Winter Garden, the original production. Never thinking that night many years down the road, I would be doing the show.”
As I write this I realize that the irony of my relationship with Sammy Williams is that I, just like countless others, equated the man who played the role of Paul San Marco with the character of Paul San Marco. (For those who don’t know, the song “I Can Do That” was inspired by Sammy’s life. The monologue was not.) Thankfully in the last seven years of Sammy’s life I got to know the man who played that part. The man who was passionate about dance. The man who was passionate about life.
Most importantly, I got to say thank you.
Godspeed Sammy, as you travel on….