Paul Yacich Memories

At the time of the Garrison-Clay Shaw JFK assassination conspiracy trial, I unexpectedly met one of the central figures in the New Orleans District Attorney's case. I was leaving WDSU-TV's studios at 520 Royal Street and going to the Court House At Canal and Broad Streets. Standing in front of the Porte Cochere of the Broulatour Residence, I hailed a Yellow cab traveling up Royal Street. I got in and gave the driver my destination. He turned and said: "You with WDSU?" I told him I was. He then asked if I had anything to do with the TV coverage of the trial. I told him I was handling some local feeds to the NBC TV's "Huntley-Brinkley Show." He asked: "Do you know who I am?" I did not and I told him so. Then he began ranting and raving: "I'm Perry Russo. I'm the DA's star witness. I don't think you press guys realize how important I am in this trial. I gotta have this gun to protect myself from people who don't think I'm for real and that I'm lying and that the DA is nuts." He began waving a 45 caliber automatic that he had hidden under his seat. I asked him to stop the cab because I had forgotten to do something at the studio. What I meant was that I had forgotten to stay there!

Now, it's 30 years later. My friend, cameraman and partner, Derek Toten, was on his way to the Delta Queen Steamship Company on the Robin Street wharf. He hailed a cab, got in, and told the driver his destination. The driver said had a friend who worked there. Derek recognized the friends name as one of the people who happened to have appeared in one of our Delta Queen video presentations. Derek and the driver talked a little about television and video work. Then the driver asked Derek; "Did you see me on TV? I was on TV about Clay Shaw. I'm Perry Russo!" He began ranting about bad treatment by the press. Derek then remembered me telling him about my meeting with Perry Russo in his cab and began looking to see if the driver had a gun. Apparently he didn't. Derek decided to just listen to the man, get to his destination and get the hell out of the cab.

When I met Derek at the wharf, he could hardly wait to tell me what happened. I decided to just listen to the man and get the hell off the wharf. I jest, of course. Derek is like the son I never had. He has done more for my wife, Rita, my daughters and me than anyone else in this whole wide world. He has protected Rita and my daughters when I was not able to be with them. He was my daughter Kristi's coach when she appeared on the CBS-TV program "Jeopardy" He drove my wife to Baton Rouge so she could be with our daughter, Deirdre, when she was having her baby. I was handling a casting session at the time the call from Deirdre came and I couldn't leave. He even acted as a "house sitter" for Deirdre and her husband when they were out of town.

So, any time he wants to tell me his Perry Russo story I will listen. At one time, Derek Toten, a fine cameraman and a great editor, worked for and with me. Now that I am retired, I sometimes work for him and I'm dammed proud of it!

When WDSU (Radio) was located in the Monteleone Hotel there were only about 19 people working for the Stephens Broadcasting Co. including 5 in the engineering department, 4 announcers, 1 Program Director, 2 in accounting, 4 in traffic and continuity, 1 in promotion, 1 General Manager and one wonderful elderly African American lady who kept the joint clean. Her name was Birda Price. She made the move to Royal Street and began working under the new management of WDSU. Everybody adored the lady and she liked everybody at the station. Her assignment was cleaning the GM's office and the Audition Room (a large room in the Broulatour Residence used for sales meetings, program previews, parties, etc.).

Older staffers at WDSU remember an incident in which Birda Price became an advisor to network execs. The Audition Room was the site of a meeting of NBC TV execs visiting New Orleans and WDSU-TV. In the rear of the room, Birda was polishing some of the antique furniture. At one point during the meeting, someone suggested the cancellation of a certain NBC television program. WDSU-TV staffers outside and near the Audition Room door were both shocked and amused to hear Birda say: "Oh! I wouldn't do that!" They were again shocked when they heard one of the execs ask: "And why not?" .and then listen to Birda tell them how much she and her friends liked that certain program. Now, I don't know what effect Birda had on their decision, but she has to be the one and only TV viewer ever to tell a group of high powered TV decision makers how she felt about a TV show.

I don't know if Birda is still with us, but if she's not then she is advising a group of angels in that great Audition Room in the sky! Tell 'em how to do it, Birda.

I'm not a writer (as if you couldn't tell) but, as a director, trying to fit a writer's words into a 30 second TV spot or a 1 hour TV special tends to develop one's editing abilities.

I am proud to say that I was the only individual allowed to edit Mel Leavitt's copy, David Snow's copy and Rusty Cantelli's copy. All three were excellent and prolific writers. Rusty's expertise was in the wording of political commercials. In his spots, there was a definite reason for every word to be in the copy. That didn't make editing easy. One of Rusty's spots I was privileged to direct involved the candidate, Pascal Calagero, a member of the State of Louisiana Supreme Court, who was running for re-election. Pascal is a great guy who calls himself "an Italian kid from St. Aloysius" (high school, not standing today). We featured him seated on a stool in a pool of light. He spoke Rusty's lines written to answer charges by one of his two opponents, (call them Mr. X and Mr. Y) that the supreme court released convicted criminals from jail. The copy read, in part: "..the Supreme Court doesn't release criminals, it merely orders new trials. Now, both Mr. X and Mr. Y know that. They just hope you don't!"

Those lines so impressed many other political commercial writers that they were repeated (modified to fit the campaign) in many states across the country. One of the most influential political advisors in the nation, Raymond Strother of Washington, D.C., used the lines and told Rusty he would pay for the usage. Rusty sent Ray a bill for one dollar. Ray sent Rusty ten dollars and said : "I'll probably use your lines nine more times!"

I have directed many commercials written by Strother and Cantelli and, many times, have grieved with them when we had to cut words from their copy to fit the allocated time. Working for them and their candidates has taken me all over the country and to France and Switzerland to produce their spots. Producing and directing political commercials made my adrenaline flow like the "Big Muddy."

Every political campaign I was privileged to work with was a new and exciting challenge. One, however, was scary! My camera crew and I were producing spots for a Congressman from an east coast state. We were filming in his office in Washington, D.C. when a young man about 17 years old rushed into the office and announced to the Congressman: "They need you on in the house for a vote!" Without asking what the vote was for, the Congressman told the kid, "I'm busy...you go vote for me." Not vote "Yes," not vote "No," just go vote! Talk about scary!

We learned some important things about producing political commercials in Washington. If your camera is hand held you don't need a city permit. A camera on a tripod in the street requires a permit. If a policeman questions you about what you are doing, never, never say we're here to shoot Congressman Gillis Long (or whoever). The D.C. police don't cotton up to the word "shoot" that we, in the TV business, are wont to use.

For one election campaign, I went to Switzerland with a cameraman. We shot a series of political commercials for a Louisiana public official. Part of the shooting involved the use of a device called a "Steadycam." The device envelopes the cameraman and, with the camera mounted on it, makes the camera guy look a little threatening. That's apparently what the Swiss guards stationed at the hotel we were going to use in the film thought. When they saw the cameraman emerge from our car in this strange get-up they went down on one knee aid aimed their rifles at us. They weren't smiling! I told the cameraman to get back in the car while I tried to explain to the guards what the "Steadycam" was. Fortunately, the man in charge spoke English and understood what the camera rig was for. It seems that this hotel was a regular meeting site for the OPEC representatives, who, apparently were not the most popular guys in the world. The guards let us do what we came to do and we left the hotel all in one piece.

Returning home from Switzerland we encountered some unexpected problems involving our unprocessed exposed film. At the Orly airport in France, the security officials insisted on placing my film in their x-ray scanner. I objected strenuously and was taken, film in hand, to the office of the head honcho of airport security. He explained that the gate we were to leave from was the same gate as the flights to Israel used and that security was tighter there than at some of the other gates. He also said, sounding an awful lot like Danny Kaye doing an impression of a French security officer, "If the film does not go through the x-ray machine, you do not go on the plane!" Reluctantly, I had to agree to allow my film, an estimated investment of about $20K, to go through the x-ray process. Fortunately, as I found out later, The French airport uses x-rays that are a lot "softer" than the x-ray system of U. S. airports and would not fog film unless the film was put through the process six or more times.

FYI, as far as we could determine, the x-rays used at Moisant Field (the name of the New Orleans airport at that time) were the strongest or "hardest" in the United States and would fog unprocessed film on a single pass.

Almost everyone enjoys watching the TV program "Bloopers," especially the goof-up of a professional news reporter...like the newsgirl who gets her ear nipped by an ostrich behind her as she attempts to report a story about the big boids. One of WDSU-TV's reporters, Charlie Zewe, provided us with a good chuckle in his interview with John Schwegmann, Sr. concerning his bid for political office. Before the interview the giant supermarket mogul told Zewe that he would like to do the interview in front of the store's milk cooler, a large uncovered refrigerated display unit. The interview then might be a commercial for the store as well.

The camera was set up, Zewe sat on the edge of the cooler and asked: "Why do you, a supermarket owner, want to run for the office of Public Service Commissioner?" Schwegmann answered: "I DON'T want to run for Public Service Commissioner. Chehardy (Lawrence Chehardy, Sr., Jefferson Parish Assessor) wants me to run for Public Service Commissioner!" Zewe couldn't control a burst of laughter and fell into the milk cooler as the camera swung to him. It was never shown on "Bloopers" but should have been.

When we were looking for a sponsor for "Testing: Do You Know Louisiana?" Bob Shultis, VP and Sales Manager of WDSU-TV, contacted E.J. Ourso. I had directed several commercials for Ourso's Security Industrial Insurance Company and had met Mr. Ourso during the production of one of the spots. While I was doing the spot, Mr. Ourso came into the control room. I didn't know him then. Strangers often wandered into the control room while commercial production was in progress. Ourso's ad agency had written the spot we were doing and I hated it! It featured an open casket, open but empty. Not knowing he was the sponsor, I turned to Ourso and said: "Isn't this the worst spot you've ever seen?" He asked; "Why don't you like it?" I told him; " I just don't like caskets coming into my living room via TV!" He said: "You know, I don't either." Then he introduced himself. Once again I began trying to think of other TV facilities that might hire a fired TV director. He asked me if I could think of a better way to bring his insurance benefits copy to the TV viewers of southern Louisiana. I suggested a simple but elegant bouquet in a pool of light and using dissolves from flower to flower while the announcer read his copy. Ourso liked the idea and immediately picked up the phone and ordered a boquet. Then he called his staff and told them to come get the casket out of the studio. We did the spot with the bouquet and Ourso loved it.

I told Shultis about the incident and he said he already heard about it from Ourso, who had invited Bob to come to a crawfish boil party in Lafayette and to present a preview of the testing special. E. J. was proud of his boiled crawfish. Bob said: "And he wants you there, too!" I told Bob: "I hate crawfish. Look, I'm a Croatian and in Louisiana and on the Gulf Coast, Croatian means "Oyster Man," just look in the phone book for "Oysters" and you'll see! All of the oyster companies in New Orleans are run by people with an "ich" on the end of their name (and anyone with an "ich" on the end of his/her name can't be all bad!). I can eat oysters but eating crawfish I'll get sick. I'll die." Shultis said: "If you want your show sponsored, you'll go and you'll eat E.J's crawfish!"

I went with Schultis to Lafayette. I ate the damn crawfish and I got sick. I didn't die, however, I just wished I was dead! E.J. Ourso bought my show! I still, however, don't eat crawfish, boiled, stewed, fried, etouffe'd, whatever, and that sometimes causes my wife's Cajun blood to boil!