In Remembrance Of Jack Klugman
I loved Jack Klugman. He came to me - a fellow South Philadelphian - in the early 1990s to help him get his voice back; it had been ravaged by throat cancer and radiation treatments. His doctors told him that the chances of his voice returning were not good. Jack was despondent, but certainly not without some sense of humor. I can still hear his horribly raspy and barely audible voice saying to me, "Gary, without my voice, I have no life. Talking is all I have!! With no voice my career is gone, but so is my reason to live. Look, you're Italian, and I am a Jew, together we can to beat this!"