Tom Wrote the Screenplay for Desert Heat starring Jeanne Claude Van Damme

If art imitates life, then perhaps the movie plot is telling me something about what Tom really felt when he got stuck in the desert in depressing Seligman, Arizona of the 1970’s. He makes jokes about his disaster in his letters, but the movie he wrote using his memories of this horrible trip back to NYC begins with the hero trying to commit suicide. Did the feelings of needing me and my love which his LA trip had unleashed arouse some self-destructive urge?

Here are the letters he sent to me about his truly awful, terrible, scary and sort of hilarious trip back to New York City that later became the movie Desert Heat starring Jean Claude Van Damme.

"Letter - March 1, 1975

Seligman Ariz. To NYC

Dearest Marcy,

It all seemed like a wonderful exciting day when I left Los Angeles. I crossed the mountains into the high desert and the sun was shining and warm, and I was on my way home, home to my baby, looking forward to auditioning, getting into a show, working at acting. I rolled along feeling great. I went through part of the desert where I was on maneuvers in the Army eleven years ago. Soon I crossed the Colorado River into Arizona, and then pop, and that was the sound like a light bulb going out. First pop and the oil light and generator light registered red. I stopped, thinking maybe the new fuel filter was messed up, tried the starter and nothing, not even a moan. I tinkered with the engine some, but no luck. It was 5:30 pm and on each side of the road were plains, sweeping up toward the mountains as far as the eye could see. I started to hitchhike standing next to the car, thinking that people would see that I was having car trouble and stop, but no such luck. Finally, a truck driver gave me a lift. By the time I got into Seligman, it was 6 pm and all the stations with tow trucks were closing left and right. I finally got a hold of a guy just as he was locking up his garage. So off we went to get the car, me thinking that it is the points that burnt out. We hookup and drag the VW back to town and the guy takes a quick look at the engine and says it's thrown a rod.

I tell you, when he said that, it was like being punched in the heart. I couldn't believe it. It was like the worst thing that could happen to this car. He then abruptly told me to find a motel because he don't work on cars at night, then his wife. (She drives a tow truck, too.) keeps asking him to get the tow money from me, $29.95. He laughingly said, "he aint going nowhere." Nice people. So off I went to find a motel.

Someone told me about a Mexican fella who has a garage and repairs VWs. I talked to him, (Tony). He said my trouble sounded like a thrown valve, said he could fix it Monday, maybe, if he can get the parts from Prescott. Hopeful I can be out of here Tuesday if the parts arrive.

How can I best describe this town? Well, it's about a quarter of a mile long. Route 66 runs down the center. It's really just seven or eight gas stations and garages, a few motels, a bar and a small grocery store. The town is built exactly next to the road and is only two blocks wide. On one side is the railroad, just freight trains. On the other side are trailers, real old, small trailers in terrible condition, all of them surrounded by old junked cars. It's a really depressed area and depressing, too, I might add. There are two restaurants, both bad. But the people are civil. It's a terribly poor little town that makes its living off the road, and not much of a living at that. It's Saturday night now, 8:30 my time and the car will not be ready till Tuesday at the earliest. So I sit here for 2 whole days doing nothing. My motel room does have a TV, thank god. At least there is something to pass the time. It's sort of funny really, no TV in LA and nothing but TV here. Christ, the next time you see me I'll have test patterns for eyes.

Well, I guess I'll watch some more TV and sleep some, hoping the time will pass quickly so I can get the hell back to NYC and start to lead a productive life again. Jesus, I'm really going into debt because of all this. Well, Toots, I love you. And I'll be home soon. And you will be in my arms and we can look back and laugh at all this. So go easy on yourself.

I love you

Tom

Letter - March 2, 1975

Seligman Ariz.

Dearest Marcy,

Howdy baby from the middle of nowhere. At breathtaking Seligman, home of gas stations and motels, cheap turquoise jewelry, and women with bee-hive hairdos, shit kickin music and pickup trucks. A small town with a panoramic view of a Santa Fe railroad siding. Ah the west, the wild, wild west. What am I doing here? Waiting for parts from Prescott. I stayed up last night till 3am watching TV hoping I would sleep a lot today so the time would go faster. Well wouldn't you know that at 9:30 am, I am wide awake and bushy tailed. Jesus, I'm really going nuts. Usually I'd sleep till at least noon, but here with nothing to do, I'm up and around. Well, actually I stayed in bed and stared around my room, then I got up and had a giant salad for lunch, lots of lettuce, sliced egg, salami, olives, carrots etc. Then I went and did my laundry and took a long walk. I walked all over town, took 5 minutes. Only kidding. Boy are there some really poor people living here in little more than shacks, horrible little hovels out on the plains, windblown, old, some even with outhouses still. Well, if nothing else, I've got clean shorts. Ha ha.

It was good to talk to you last night. You really helped boost my spirits. I hope I boosted yours. I think I did. Well, tomorrow I hitch into Williams and get the money at Western Union. (I had to wire him the money to get my car fixed.) There is a James Cagney movie coming on TV. Boy, what a great actor he is. I'm getting a little sun. What else is there to do? I'm trying to eat good, which isn't easy in this little burg, which is sort of greasy spoon kind of place. People here think Health Food is something California pinko Commie Weirdos eat or rub on their bodies during orgies. I swear to God if I'm here much longer I'm going to organize and direct a show with the town folk. "Bus Stop” would be a biggie here, the whole town is full of guys to play Bo Decker and the Sheriff.

So here I sit waiting for spare parts and a miracle so I can be on my way home and to your loving arms. Take care of your beautiful self.

I love you

Tom

Xxxxxxxxxoooooo

March 3 Monday Up at 9am breakfast and off to Williams to telegraph office. Hitchhiked for about an hour. No ride. Finally, a couple of longhairs from Colorado I talked to earlier gave me a ride to Williams, they’re on their way to the Grand Canyon to camp. Arrived in Williams at 11am, telegram arrived 2:15. Bus for Seligman left at 2:10. Got check cashed. Finally got the money, next bus out of Williams for Seligman at 7:50. Decided to hitchhike. Local police were starting to give me the eye, so I figured it's time to leave. Hitched a ride with a young black couple on the way to LA, gave them $2.00 for gas. Got back to Seligman at 4 pm. Stopped at Tony’s garage. He said his wife is coming back from Flagstaff with parts. My spirits are getting hopeful. Will be too late today, he said. I should be on the road tomorrow. YAH."

If you've seen Tom's movie, Desert Heat, you will recognize the setting and the mood are drawn directly from Tom's experiences in Seligman, Arizona. From Tom's horrible, really bad trip home from Los Angeles came one of his greatest triumphs in life, getting a movie made from one of his screenplays.

Tom returned from his harrowing Los Angeles adventure just before his thirty-first birthday. He was dead broke, again, and started making the rounds of agents, casting people and theater open calls. Coming back to more career failure and hopelessness in New York was tough. So many times, over the years, I heard him say he was so depressed that he felt as if he was at the bottom of a well. He always tried to keep busy. He’d paint a room or a piece of furniture, fix something, work in the garden, go to an auction, anything to feel like he’d accomplished something. I always tried to be encouraging about the future, cheerleading, cooking nice dinners, the usual stuff all significant others do. But nothing I could say or do ever seemed to help very much. Only an acting job would rally his spirits. And that, too, was a very important clue to Tom’s psyche that I misread. I thought he was just ambitious and desperate to get ahead, but as I was to learn from his afterlife communications, his elation when he worked, as well as his constant fight against depression had a very different cause.

Back from Los Angeles, and he was starting over. He did have an agent and at least his Los Angeles trip gave him something to talk about with casting people. One bright spot occurred immediately on Tom's return. Just before his birthday, he had an audition for the CBS soap opera Search For Tomorrow and got the job. It was a one-day gig as a construction boss, but it was a role whose character had a name and a couple of decent scenes.

After Tom's first speaking part on a soap opera, his diary is completely blank for months until September, when he had an appointment to meet Lloyd Kolmer to see about having Lloyd manage his career. Lloyd didn't ask him to sign till October, but, somehow, that autumn, things suddenly picked up. Lloyd was the good father Tom never had, and the best friend and show business guru he desperately needed.

Lloyd specialized in celebrity endorsements and had become famous by getting the celebrated mime, Marcel Marceau, a million dollars for an American Express TV commercial. He was riding high, running his own talent management company. Fate must have destined the two of them to meet, for it was the beginning of lifelong friendship. Lloyd's confidence in Tom and his organized strategy for getting somewhere were just what Tom needed. Somebody who was somebody liked and believed in him, believed in his talent and prospects, and it meant everything to Tom. With his confidence in himself renewed, Tom dove back into studying acting, just to get up on the boards, keep his skills fresh and stay in practice.

In September, Tom got a Swift Sausage commercial-casting note: RUGGED. A big national spot. Real money. The kind of money you can actually live on, even in New York City. Tom was ecstatic. And they liked him so much he did another one in December along with a couple of voice-overs for more money.

From Tom's diary:" Auditioned for Lowenbrau to play a Merchant Marine as a principal in national commercial with Steve Horn, a top New York photographer and TV commercial director, and GOT THAT TOO!"

"December 11- Did a scene from The Only Game in Town in Wynn Handman's class. He loved it and said that it was the best he'd ever seen it done. Wynn told the class "That’s Theater." God, I’m high on it."

1975 New Year’s Resolutions:

Plan on quitting smoking sometime soon.

Start getting to bed early and up early

Stop being my own worst enemy

Get a running part on a soap opera

Make a lot of money.

JANUARY 6- Broke again.

The sad fact of life, you know, if you're the kind of person who has to pay bills on a regular basis, is that for commercials you got a session fee, but the big money is in the residuals which are paid quarterly.

Tom's vow to get a part on a soap opera wasn't wishful thinking. It was certainly within the realm of possibility. This was the Seventies, and the fifteen or more daytime soap operas on the air at that time had large and incredibly loyal audiences. The soaps provided fresh content every day and were very cheap to produce compared to a nighttime TV drama or comedy. Soap operas were booming, and there were lots of them. Many actors, actresses and directors worked on soaps in those years, and many went on to great success on nighttime TV and in the movies. If Tom landed one, it could be a steady paycheck and the foothold in the industry we desperately needed.

The next year was one of the happiest in our life. After doing the two Swift Sausage commercials, which provided Tom with a respectable income for the next year, he studied acting with Wynn Handman, who ran the American Place Theater and was very encouraging to Tom.

Probably as a result of all the new support Tom had found, he got cast as one of the leads in a play opposite the movie star Barbara Rush, which was to rehearse in the city, then go on the road to play in top theaters in Atlanta and Palm Beach to tune it up for a run on Broadway. He was gainfully employed for the next three months as an actor.

The play didn't make it to Broadway but working on stage again with real professionals in front of a live audience was an immensely valuable experience for Tom in every way but financially. He came home owing money. But we did get to spend a week together in Palm Beach in a little apartment provided by the Palm Beach Playhouse.

It was the Bicentennial year and the spirit of '76 reigned all across the country. Tom's acting teacher Wynn Handman who managed the American Place Theater had a couple of American History plays by the famous American poet Robert Lowell that he wanted to stage in honor of the Bicentennial. Back from his three months of acting out of town, Tom auditioned for the director and got two small parts, one in each of the one act plays. He was going to be on stage at a very highly regarded theater, reviewed by all the top critics, right here in New York.

His parts in those plays were nothing game changing, even had the reviews been great. But then on March eighth, the casting director at the soap opera The Guiding Light set up a meeting with him because the show was casting a new contract part of a doctor, age mid to late thirties. The meeting went well.

Casting people were starting to take notice of this “new” face in town. He was now an employed, steadily working actor. His career was on roll.