The Way I Heard It with Mike Rowe - 137: A Bona Fide Sex Symbol

Episode Date: September 10, 2019

She simply had no choice.

This is the way I heard it. Pam was in a stadium with thousands of other football fans when her smiling face suddenly appeared on the Jumbotron. She was wearing a Labatz t-shirt. The next day, Labats signed Pam to a modeling gig, and before long, Pamela Anderson became a bona fide sex symbol. Charlie was in a bank, trying to cash an international check from her mother. The teller refused, and Charlie,

through a fit. So impassioned was her outburst, a talent agent waiting in line, signed Charlie to a contract right then and there. And before long, Charlize Theron became a bona fide sex symbol. Norma's rise to fame was not so different. She was discovered in a pizza parlor and offered the role of a lifetime. Soon thereafter, she became a sex symbol unlike any other. Perhaps you know the rest of Norma's story, the story of why she changed her name, and the production that made her famous. But what about the sharp-eyed women who discovered her in that pizza parlor? What did they see in this high school dropout that so many others missed? In her autobiography, Norma recalls their first meeting over a picture of draft beer and a pepperoni pie.

Linda and Sarah were sitting together, she wrote. Both were older than me, and both were wearing two-piece business suits. I was wearing jeans, a button-down shirt tied off at the waist and sandals. It was obvious to me, even from across the room, that these women hadn't talked to a person like me for a long time, if ever. Did Norma imagine, in her wildest dreams, that changing her name would change the industry? That doesn't seem likely. She was 21 at the time, unemployed, homeless, and recently divorced. Not exactly a Hollywood pin-up girl.

She was, according to Linda, complicated. And yet, Norma possessed an undeniable quality that any good casting agent would recognize. A fire in the belly, a hunger, a willingness to do, whatever the role required. You should understand, warned Sarah. A role like this could really change your life. Are you prepared for that? Norma laughed. Are you kidding me? she said.

Changing my life is why I'm here. If you ladies can get me out of this life, I'll sign whatever contract you want. Accounts vary as to precisely who said what. We know the women told Norma about Henry, the male lead. Sarah explained that Henry was a very picky leading man, but partial to girls like Norma. We also know that Norma had no agent or manager to advise her. Thus, when she was presented with a legally binding contract, she didn't read it carefully.

She simply repeated what was most important to her, the one thing she wanted in return for changing her name to the one we all know. I told him exactly what I needed, Norma wrote, and they told me, if I signed their paper, I would have it. They promised. And so, with nothing more than that promise, Norma made the biggest decision of her life. She signed her given name on the dotted line and embraced the new name Linda and Sarah had chosen for her. A decision Norma would later refer to as the biggest mistake. of my life. For the record, Linda and Sarah deny they pressured Norma into changing her name or signing the document that tied them together forever. But the basic facts of the night in question

are not in dispute. Once upon a time, two powerful women offered the role of a lifetime to a homeless girl who struggled with depression and drug abuse. That girl, a high school dropout with a fire in her belly, signed on the dotted line, and went on to star in a production that outgrossed anything Hollywood could ever hope to produce. Maybe you remember this production. Henry was terrific as the villain,

or the hero, if you'd rather. And the woman, once known as Norma, was very compelling as the victim, or the slut, as some called her. Tragically, or happily, if you'd like, Norma never got the one thing she really wanted. By the time the curtain fell on this most controversial of productions, that fire in Norma's belly had become a two-year-old child,

which she gave up for adoption. Just like the other two children she brought into the world back when her choices were more limited. On the positive side, or the negative, if you're so inclined, millions of other women have since gotten what they wanted, thanks to the document Norma signed. The one that changed her name, the affidavit drawn up by Linda Coffey and Sarah Weddington, two attorneys with a case that needed a plaintiff, a plaintiff who would become a bona fide sex symbol, or, if you'd rather, a symbol for their sex.

That is how Norma McCorvey became the leading lady in a controversial production that went all the way to the Supreme Court, a production that left millions of Americans wondering if a fetus is a human being or a lump of cells. A vexing issue indeed that started when a pregnant girl in a pizza parlor agreed to change her name to Jane Rowe and sue, a district attorney named Henry Wade in a little production called Roe v. Wade. Anyway, that's the way I heard it.