Blindsided by the Walking Dead

Chapter 24

On My Way

 

I’d steered the Mazda Milennia through Birmingham, Jackson, and Shreveport, and on to Dallas before taking anything longer than a quick restroom, food grab, or roadside nap stop. Views of the majestic country I drove through kept me entertained during the daylight hours. I found myself in awe of the vast land unfolding around me. I became lost in thought as the echoes of the land’s history rippled through a frigid winter air. Each gust of wind seemed to carry a piece of the past with it. The actions of defiant forty-two-year-old civil rights activist Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr.’s incarceration in Birmingham for a rights campaign, and the determination of 1960s Governor George Wallace to champion “segregation forever” in Montgomery, rode with me through Alabama. The rifle shot that ended civil rights activist Medgar Evers’ efforts to help integrate the University of Mississippi accompanied me in that state. Through Texas, I traveled with the memory of men who held strong and died at the Alamo to defend the idea of freedom, and remembered where a charismatic rights advocate and president lost his life around lunchtime on a sunny November day in 1963. 
 

The pain of 9-11 was still fresh. In the wake of the devastating September eleventh attacks on New York and Washington, D.C., I struggled to understand how any man, from any cultural, political, or religious background, could justify taking the lives of thousands of men, women, and children. Every life is a gift, a precious blessing. Decade after decade the world witnessed horrifying assaults defying common logic, but somehow persisted. 9-11 was just the latest on a long list of grisly examples. The loss made my heart ache. 
 

At night the only thing I saw in the headlights was the highway stretching out before me. I kept the window open and the music turned up, singing along with each song I recognized. Amarillo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff. Signs with the cities’ names and mile markers materialized out of the dark at my car’s headlights approach. The passing of each brought me closer to my final destination—Los Angeles, CA. Every time I passed the sign of a city I recognized, I thanked God for walking beside me on this path, and mentally prepared for the success I was sure to find in Hollywood. 
 

I raced toward my future and drove cross-country as quickly as any human could expect to. The sooner I arrived, the sooner I’d make my mark. In the months following the end of Secrets, it became clear I was falling behind on my personal goals with the acting work available in the Atlanta area. I’d thought Hollywood would know my name within a year of leaving UGA. Three years later, there was no doubt in my mind; I needed to do more to achieve my goal. It’s great to talk about being successful and dream how it will happen, but terrible to sit around and wait for it to happen. I was ready. I just had to get the opportunity … and I was determined to make it happen. 
 

The only contact I had in Los Angeles was through a friend of my mother-in-law, but I wasn’t worried as I planned my trip westward. I had confidence and talent; when combined with my drive and discipline, I would get results in Tinseltown. 
 

Forged in the burning heat of Perry Homes’ streets, I was sturdy, strong, and ready to build the foundation for a successful life for my family. But it was more than that. I had confidence in my spirit. By forging ahead on a path marked with truth and love, I would use my natural talent not only to succeed for myself, but also create hope for my family and others. Help them believe the dreams they had could be real. I would find my way and soar, counting on my faith in God and His message to help keep me on course. I would succeed for myself, but also my children, my wife … for Tracy, Momzie, and Big Larry. And Momma Cat. 
 

My thought process on progress gave birth to a refined identity. I was, and always would be Robert, but I had grown into so much more. My trials in life had forged me into IronE—strong, solid and unbreakable like the metal, but with a spirit carrying me upward on my journey, raising me above the trials that had come before. With an ironclad and steadfast determination to succeed, I could accomplish anything. “An eagle in flight with an unbroken spirit,” would be my guiding theme as IronE. Electrifying, energetic, enigmatic, enlightened, empowered. I could be whatever I wanted to be. I was soaring upward and onward, far beyond the physical and mental limitations socialization, environment, genetics, stereotypes, statistics, and history placed on me. The irony that a “nobody” from “nowhere” could defy the odds and do what no one in my family had done before? The pundits might say, “Never! No way! No how!” But I would respectfully disagree. I was and would forever be, IronE. I hoped the name would also help crack the ice and drive interest, give me the opportunity to tell my story in the hopes of inspiring other would-be IronE’s in the world. 
 

With a renewed sense of purpose, I packed up the car and started driving on the first of February 2002, knowing the future was right ahead of me. 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

I hit Hollywood ground running—or rather, standing—arriving in Los Angeles on a Thursday afternoon with just enough time to grab a few hours of sleep and get in line at a cattle call for ABC in Burbank. It was the beginning of pilot season. The time of year when Hollywood kicks into high gear, auditioning actors for productions slated to debut later in the year on all the networks. ABC was looking to cast actors for a showcase and perhaps select a handful to go on to their fall shows. After eight hours of waiting with hundreds of others, I was near the front of the line when a lady in a suit came out to inform us they were done for the day. 

“Sorry, you guys. You’re going to have to come back on Monday,” she said as people around me began to express their frustrations. She had a friendly enough face, and her tone was kind, but for a few seconds I had the urge to grab her by the shoulders and start shaking. I was a little surprised by my reaction. I’m usually a pretty patient guy. 
 

I took a couple deep breaths to calm myself. “May I have a ticket or something, so I can keep my place in line?” 
 

“No you have to start over. You may want to make sure you get here earlier.” 
 

I did my best to conceal my frustration, kindly thanked her, and walked away to get in my car, where I proceeded to scream. I sincerely hoped, afterward, that no one had seen the outburst. 
 

I spent the weekend reminding myself, anything worth having takes hard work and determination. I needed to be patient and wait for my chance to walk through the door. Driving at a breakneck pace across the country had only been one leg on this stretch of my journey. I needed to keep showing up, add to my investment in my future. Monday morning I arrived at the audition location over an hour before the call was set to open, and spent another three hours waiting to take my first shot at Hollywood. I made it in the door and had what I thought was a solid showing. 
 

With the sheer volume of people who had shown up to audition, I wasn’t sure I would get a callback, and even if I did, a callback didn’t ensure I’d book the gig. 
 

I set about getting my L.A. life in order while I waited. The first step was to reach out to my mother-in-law’s friend’s cousin who owned a restaurant on La Tijera Boulevard, and secure temporary employment until I started booking acting jobs. I launched the search for a place to live, looking for a living situation with roommates to help manage my expenditures, and began preparing a list of L.A.-based agents to send my resume and headshot. 

When the callback from the cattle call came, I knew I was on my way. A callback is a second round of auditions; a kind of validation of the work an actor put in and an acknowledgement the production team sees possibilities. I went to the callback bursting with confidence, grateful I’d made the cut on my first shot after having just arrived in L.A. and auditioning against so many other actors equally as hungry for a job. The second round of auditions was at ABC studios, reading a script from Michael J. Fox’s sitcom Spin City. 
 

As I left the studios, I knew I had nailed it and figured I wouldn’t be working at the restaurant for long. I was only half-right.

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