Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1961)

The risk was great, but the potential loss was greater. The doctors operated, and after three long hours, they applied the bandages and hoped for the best. Peter lay flat on his back for six weeks. He knew he’d have one glass eye for the rest of his life, and he wasn’t sure that he’d even be able to see out of the other one. His dream of playing baseball was over. Then, finally, the day came for the bandages to be removed. His mother and father were present, and Peter could scarcely breathe, he was so nervous. “Are you ready, Pete?” asked the doctor. “Yes . . . doc, I’m . . . I’m ready.” Slowly, carefully, the bandages were cut away. At first, Peter could see nothing. He tried desperately to make out the figures near him, but the light refused to penetrate. “Can you see anything, Pete?” The doctor’s voice seemed so far away. Peter strained to clear the wall of darkness that engulfed him, and slowly, very slowly, the streaks of light began to break through his prison of darkness. “I . . . I . . . yes, yes, I can see! I can see Mama . . . and Pop . . . and you, doc.” They kept him in the hospital for another week, then he returned to Ossining with his parents. It was another six weeks before he was allowed even the simple pleasures of reading his favorite stories for more than a few minutes, or seeing a movie, or even looking at his mother’s magazines. Peter says now, “My dream of a big league baseball career was over, because my left eye never came around as strong as it should have. But I did play baseball again, and even made the high school basketball and track teams at Ossining.” His struggle to show the other fellows that he would never take their pity reached its goal when he won his varsity basketball letter for playing guard in 1943, 1944 and 1945, his graduation year. He tried to enlist in the Marines, the Army and the Navy, but his glass eye kept him from making it. So he joined the Merchant Marine, and served during the last days of World War II. He was restless Returning from the Merchant Marine, Peter decided to enroll at Hamilton College in Hamilton, New York. He stayed there through 1947 and 1948, but then he became restless. He transferred to the University of Wisconsin in Madison, Wisconsin. At the time, acting seemed the furthest thought from his mind, and except for an incidental part in “Saint Joan” at Hamilton, where he had to be practically pushed on stage, his thoughts of the theater were non-existent. “When I’d been sick and laid up after the operation,” he explained, “I’d been the star, director, writer and audience to my own dreams and fancies, but really acting wasn’t what I wanted. Not then.” After Wisconsin, he attended the New School in New York City, but in the spring of 1950, he got so restless again he left for Europe. Her traveled through Yugoslavia, Italy, France and Austria until his money ran out and he had gotten that restless feeling out of his system. When he came back, he decided to finish his schooling at Syracuse University. He got his diploma in Political Science from Syracuse’s Maxwell School, and he met Alice Mayo who, six years later, was to become his wife. “Everytime I asked her to marry me she said no,” Peter quips today, “until one day she figured I might make something out of myself, so she said yes!” But Alice had good reason to be reluctant. She knew how restless and impulsive Peter was, and she was afraid he’d never settle down. Even after Peter had gotten a job as an efficiency expert with the Connecticut Budget Bureau and had worked for them two years, he suddenly announced one day that he was giving it all up to become an actor. No wonder she was afraid of a marriage with him. But what Alice didn’t see then were Peter’s greatest qualities— his strength and the courage to search for what he really wanted from life. When he found something that could satisfy him, he would pour all his energy and all his love into it. And that “something” turned out to be acting. How it happened Unknown to Alice, Peter had one day driven down to the White Barn in Westport, Connecticut, to see a friend. There he saw Eva LeGallienne, the great actress, teaching a class. “I was hooked the minute I saw her teaching,” he states simply. “That was it.” He enrolled in her class, and came down every week to hear her lecture. He was still holding his job with the Budget Bureau, and one day, after he’d been studying with Miss LeGallienne for some time, she called him over. He’d come to class late, as usual. “Why are you always late?” she asked. “I have to drive down from Hartford.” “But there are no theaters in Hartford.” Miss LeGallienne said. “Oh, I’m no actor,” he explained. She looked at him for a long moment, and said, “You should be.” Peter had found himself. He had found something he loved, and he could stop running now, stop searching. His next thought was Alice. “Pm going to New York,” he told her, “and I’m going to become an actor. A good actor.” And for some strange reason, as crazy as it sounded, she knew it would be just as he said. She went with him, and they were married. After several successful TV appearances, Peter landed the now-famous role in “Murder, Inc.” The little kid with the big dreams had made good. The future looks bright for Peter Falk now. He’s on his way, and nothing can stop him. Nothing’s too hard or too tough for him to conquer. After all, he fought the toughest battle of his life when he was eleven years old. He fought then — and won. Now he can fight anything and come out on top. 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