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DON ‘RED’ BARRY
From Hero Of ‘B’ Westerns To Character Actor
It’s time to play the nostalgia
game.
Question; Who was the first actor
to portray “Red Ryder," western
artist Fred Harmon’s famous
cowboy hero from the comic strips?
Wild BUI EUlott? Allan "Rocky"
Lane? Jim Bannon?
Ouess again. It was "Red" Barry.
Now, don’t throw rocks. I’m not
any smarter thsin you, but I have an
advantage in that I have Just spent
an entire week with the actor who
first breathed life Into champion of
Painted Valley — Donald Berry.
Don Is In Shelby currently
essaying the role of Buckstone
County Prison Farm Warden Lute
Coley — the chief antagonist of
"Seabo,” portrayed by Earl
Owensby. “Seabo" Is the Utle of the
seventh feature fUm produced at EO
Studios.
And, If I may be permitted* (o
add, this has been a double tnmi for
me because I wrote the script for
“Seabo.”
Don Barry makes no bones about
being S7 years of age and anyone
who watches ’TV or attends movies
regularly wUl readUy acknowledge
the fact that for a onetime hero of
Republic Pictures’ series westerns
of the late I980’s and 40’a, Mr. B Is
one of the finest character actors
currenUy on the scene today.
"You never stop learning. Each
new role Is a new e]q>erlence and the
serious actor always tries to put
something fresh and new Into each
rtde,” Don said.
A native Texan, who aU of his life
has been a movie fan, got his chance
at an acting career by walking Into a
theater In Los Angeles and asking
the stage manager for an op
portunity. This led to a phone caU a
few days later In which Don was
asked ‘‘Have you ever none
anything?” Don’s answer to the
stage manager’s question was the
truth. "Yea.”
‘Die play was "Tobacco Road”
starring Ifenry HuU as Jeter. Don
played Dude. For six weeks Don
received rave reviews, which
caused Mr. HuU to make a speech to
the entire cast about how he could
spot the seasoned professional
immediately smd what a deUght It
was to have Mr. Barry numbered In
his cast.
Hie day after Don was in
terviewed for a newspaper article,
Mr. HuU’s praise turned to ranting
, and raving smd demands that Don be
dismissed Immediately from the
cast.
In the newspaper article Don also
tdd the truth. ‘The Interviewer asked
Don what other plays he had done,
’“rhls is It," Don answered.
"But you told the stage manager
you had done other plays," the In
terviewers argued.
"No. He asked me if I had dene
anything. He never asked what other
shows I had done," Don grinned. "I
told him the truth. I had done other
things. I sold real estate. I dug
ditches. I was an ice man...’’
' Don said he was not dismissed
from the cast, but he had not made a
friend in Henry HuU. ’“Tobacco
Road” was due to open In Oilcago
tor 18 months and HuU took out his
wrath on Don physically In a scene
in the show. Don returned the
physical abuse with physical abuse
and off stage told Mr. HuU, “I have
respect and admiration tor you,
Mr. HuU. I am honored to be doing
this show with you. But If you have
so much respect tor young talent, as
you said before, then why don’t you
teach me?”
Don’s dialogue then showed HuU
that Don had no intemion oi taxing
any more abuse or he would
retaliate in kind.
< "Henry sent word to me the next
day he would be pleased to rehearse
with me,” Don smiled. “WeU, we
nsver did rehearse together and we
went on to Chicago and did the play
together for a year and a half.”
Following his run in ’“Tobacco
Road,” Don returned to Los Angeles
to hunt for more work. He said In
those days a man named Jack Sch
wab looked after actors who "were
between Jobs.” If the name sounds
familiar, attach drug store to it and
think of Lana ’Turner’s discovery.
‘“That’s one of the most popular
myths in HoUywood,” Don said.
"Lsuia was not discovered sitting at
the soda fountain in Schwab’s Drug
Store.”
But, strange as it seems, that’s
where Donald Barry happen to be
when he was contacted by a
< producer named George Sherman
about a role in a John Wayne
western — ’“The Wyoming Outlaw.”
"I signed a contract with RepubUc
Pictures and have since discovered
that Robert Taylor and I were the
only two actors In HoUywood with
such contracts,” Don said.
The contract was for S2 weeks a
year tor seven yesirs and no options.
Don was paid 1126 a week to begin
with raises every six months. When
he left Republic he was making
$8,000 a week, which wasn’t bad for
the 1040’s.
By Tom McIntyre
It was Don who was responsible
for RepubUc signing BIU EUlott for a
series of westerns. EUlott was the
second "Red Ryder,” and the actor
to portrsiy the character the longest.
His Uttle Indian sidekick. Little
Beaver, was Robert Blake, now TV’s
“Baretta.”
One of Den’s closest friends In
those days was John Wayne, who
was also under contract to RepubUc.
"We were great friends In those
days," Don said. “Now he doesn’t
like me and the feeling Is mut^.”
Don gave out with a laugh and
launched Into a story about how he
and the Duke caused $4,000 In
damages to the lobby of a hotel In St.
Louis early one morning.
“Duke has always been a msm who
Uked boose,” Don said. "Herbert
Yates, the president at RepubUc,
knew this and he knew what doss
friends John and I were. So he told
me I was to go with John on a per
sonal appearance tour for a picture.
I was to ‘handle’ John Wayne If ha
got Into the booxeto heavy. Can you
Imagine that? Me? Hsmdle John
Wayne? WeU, I reluctantly went
along. We did fine. Made aU the
shows we were to do. Then In St.
Louis Duke said we should reaUy
make the rounds. We did until
maybe three or four In the mor
ning.”
Don said aU evening Wayne had
been “playfuUy” whacking him on
the back. Over and over again untU
It stopped being funny.
“I was black and blue from this,”
Don said, "So I got mad and said I
was going to knock Duke on his can.
He thought that was funny and told
me I wasn’t taU enough to even
reach hla chtai. When we walked Into
the hotel lobby he gave me another
shot on the back and down I went. I
swung from the floor, hit his chin
dead center and he went over back
wards Into a fountain buUt Into the
middle of the hotel lobby.”
‘The dsimages totaling $4,000 which
Republic had to pay, came after
Wayne climbed out of the fountain
and he and Don began throwing
things at each other. Itien It became
a thing erf throwing things Uka
lamps, SLShtrays and smaU pieces of
furniture at other lamps, etc.
“BeUeve It or not,” Don laughed,
"that did not affect our frlendsh^i.
In those days Duke was one of the
nicest men you’d over want to meet.
But In the last few years he has
turned Into one of the most can
tankerous old cusses you ever saw.”
And though Mr. B doesn’t par
ticularly like Mr. W. as a person, he
confesses great admiration for the
Duke as sm actor In Wayne’s last
film, “The Shootest.”
"As an Academy member I voted
to nominate Duke for Best Per
formance by a leading actor for his
nde In that film,” Don said. "He
should have won the Oscar this year
for his perfomumce. In that film he
didn’t play John Wayne. He got the
Oscar for 'true Grit’ because
everyone thought he was going to die
from cancer. But he’s so danmed
mean he wouldn’t let go. He’s the
kind of man that would aplt In
Satan’s eye.”
Don "Red” Bariy made his last
series-type western In 1961. At that
time he had done 16 westerns for a
msm named Robert L. Llppert an
independent studio. During this time
Republic had more or less
graduated Into making bigger
budget feature films. Roy Rogers
and Rex Allen were the last of then,
then called programmer, westerns
for the studio.
Don then began popping up as a
character actor In all types of
movies and television and he has
been at It steadily ever since.
"Tve been In the business twenty
minutes,” he said klddlngly. "By
count, “Seabo” makes 822 feature
movies I have done. I’ve always
dene 417 different TV shows.”
Don has been nominated twice for
Emmies for outstanding per
formances In television shows In the
psurt couple of years.
During a week’s worth of con
versation with Donald Barry I have
enough stories about Hollywood,
yesterday and today, and actors,
good, bad and Indifferent, to fill a
book, but I wMi’t attempt to write
that here. I can give you a few tid
bits, however.
Mr. B. has a great love for this
section of the country. "It’s won
derful to see green grsMS and trees, a
big moon In the evening and a almple
thing like mist early In the morning
for a change. In California we had
three weeks of ‘winter.’ That’s
temperatures that might have
gotten down to 40 degrees, ‘niere,
everything Is brown, dry, arid and
smoggy. When you see country like
this It makes you wonder why
anyone would want to move away,”
he said.
He also likes country cooking.
“Duringmy days at Republic I did
personal appearances In Just about
every small town In the south,” he
said. “I had a trick. At the end of the
show I would tell the audience the
type of cooking I liked If anyone
wanted to Invite me to supper. You’d
be surprised how many down home
meals I wrangled that way.”
And sometimes Don's “trick”
grew into something even he had not
Imagined.
"I did a show in Macon, Georgia,”
he said. "A little skinny boy In
patched clothes came backstage and
said his mother was fixing supper
for me. I tried to get out of It because
from the looks of the boy he smd his
tamlly barely had enough to eat for
themselves. The boy was Insistent
and I reluctantly agreed to go,
thinking I would Just visit. When I
got there I could see the boy’s home
waa very humble. But In the yard
was a long table Just filled with food.
All the neighbors had pitched In and
all of them were on hand. We all had
a wonderful time together.”
Now Jump from the RepubUc
Pictures days to 1668 and Vietnam,
where Don was on tour entertaining
American troops.
“I met a sergeant who asked me if
I remembered that Incident In
Macon, Georgia,” Don said. "Then
he told me he was that skinny Uttle
boy who Invited me to 8iq>per. He
asked me If I remembered that
rocking chair I sat In at the head of
DONALD BARRY — as he looked in countless
westerns during the 1940’s and 50’s
trhe table, did. Then the sergeant
said that chair was still sitting in his
folk’s Uvlng room slth a sing on It —
‘Don “Red” Barry sat here.’ And he
said that no one Is aUowed to sltln
that chair.
“Isn’t that something? I cried,”
Doi said. “I don’t know of any other
profession where things Uke that can
happen to a person. That’s why I
love acting. If It can bring that kind
of happiness to others as well as to
someone like me, then there must be
something worthwhile In aU of this.”
Don feels that the newer breed of
actor misses out on the reaUy
meaningful experiences connected
ewlth the acting profession simply
because they shut themselves off
from their pubUc. They go more for
the money and the next lob rather
than any kind of meaningful ex
perience with the people who pay to
see them perform.
“Illkepeople,"Donsald. "Hike to
meet them and talk with them.”
And during this past week Donald
Barry has met Cleveland Oountlsins
by the hundreds, either on the
“Seabo” set at EO Studios or Ir lo-i
cal churches and restaurants. Thei
small children don’t remember the
old RepubUc westerns, but from the
broad smiles I have seen spread
across the faces of the bigger ones
you can bet your boots they have no
trouble recaUlng aU those glorious
Saturdays afternoons at their locsU
movie houses.
i
— as he appears in the role of Warden Coley
in Earl Owensby’s production of ‘Seabo’
y
y
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ENTERTAINING COMISSIONffiS - Barry shows the handgun that belonged to Billy The Kid to
Commissioners Jack Palmer and Josh Hinnant and County Manager Joe Hendricks.