May, 1992. The seventies were more than a decade removed, yet life was still quaint in many ways. Cell phones were uncommon, CD’s were read-only, and I was still limping along with a Commodore 64 computer. The prospect of owning a complete set of unedited Brady Bunch episodes in any format was but a dream. Into this bleak existence burst the stunning news that Barry Williams was scheduled to appear in my town.
Barry was starring in a touring production of City of Angels, and that was not all – he was also to autograph copies of his new autobiography, Growing Up Brady, at a local independent bookstore. I bought a pair of tickets to the show at once and lined up a vacation day so that I wouldn’t miss the signing.
I arrived at the bookstore carrying a pair of treasured mementos, a copy of The Brady Bunch Phonographic Album and an original script of the King’s Island episode that had been signed previously by Florence Henderson and Chris Knight. Much to my disappointment, the store staff was adamant that Barry would be signing only copies of his book. When it was my time to meet him, however, he spied the script and graciously offered to sign it as well. I seized the opportunity to ask him my burning question, the query that only a Brady insider would know: When would Paramount release The Brady Bunch on home video?
Barry looked up from the book he was signing with an expression of the purest Greg Brady sincerity and replied in his deep baritone, “I’m going to talk to them about that.” Elated, I returned home with my souvenirs.
That weekend, my wife and I were entertained by Barry’s performance in City of Angels, a clever production that demanded plenty of agility and split-second timing from its actors. We waited at the stage door afterward, where Barry eventually appeared and took time to chat with every fan there. He signed my Phonographic Album and posed for a photo with me, resting his arm on my shoulder as though we had been pals for years.
“Wow,” I thought to myself moments later as I watched him amble down the alley and turn the corner, “Barry Williams in my town!” Improbable, it seemed, yet true. Perhaps he would get those old Brady Bunch episodes in our hands yet.
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