My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [17]
Though I wanted to stay, I had to be back in New York to do Sesame Street, so I shrugged out of my tuxedo shortly after our number was over to prepare for the red-eye home. Jim had gone to sit in a place of honor in the theater, so I didn’t get a chance to tell him how happy I was for him, but I was confident that he knew.
THREE YEARS LATER I was busy shooting The Muppets at Walt Disney World on location when I heard I’d been nominated for an Emmy, for “outstanding performer in a children’s series.” I was stunned. Me? An Emmy? I had no idea I was even being considered for a nomination. Up until that point in my career, I rarely thought about things like winning awards. That was for other people, especially the ones who’d been at it longer than me.
I didn’t even understand how the process worked until one of the show’s producers explained it to me. The production staff got together and submitted a group of names to the Emmy committee, and the committee had chosen me as one of the finalists for my performance as Elmo. For the next step, I needed to select and submit a tape of an Elmo performance to the committee.
A favorite segment immediately sprang to mind. Alison Bartlett O’Reilly, who plays Gina on the show, is babysitting Elmo. She does all the usual things you do when you babysit a three-and-a-half-year-old. When she bathes him, Elmo imagines being Elmo Cousteau plumbing the depths of the tub, and he meets a policeman fish beneath the “sea” who helps him find the way back to the surface with the treasure—a bar of soap—he finds. Gina does a marvelous job of treating Elmo the way she would her own child. The tender, sweet moment when she tucks Elmo in, patiently overcoming Elmo’s antics to stretch out his bedtime, ends the scene on just the right note of humor and tenderness.
The tape was sent off, and until I received formal notification of my nomination via a very impressive-looking mailed certificate, I didn’t think much about the award at all. I was happy with the certificate itself and immediately had it framed and hung it in my workshop at home in Baltimore, fully expecting that was as far as it would go. The Daytime Emmys weren’t as big a deal as they are now. And the children’s television categories ranked low in the pecking order, beneath the soap opera and talk show awards. But I was still thrilled to be in the company of children’s television greats like Fred Rogers, LeVar Burton (of Reading Rainbow), and Paul “Pee-wee Herman” Reubens.
From the time I was notified of my nomination in April 1990 to the announcement of the winners in September, we’d all suffered a great loss. Jim Henson died unexpectedly of a streptococcal infection on May 16 of that year. While we all carried on in the best tradition of Jim and remembered his mission to have fun, there were moments when we missed him terribly.
I was busy with work, Jim was gone, and given my competition, I didn’t think I would win. I even forgot the exact date that it was to be held on, but I did ask director Ted May to accept the award for me if I won. “Just say ‘Thank you, Jim,’ ” I told him.
I was in bed in Baltimore when the phone rang at 12:15 A.M. I picked it up and through the fog of half-sleep heard the voice of executive producer Dulcy Singer.
“Congratulations, kiddo. You won!”
It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, and suddenly I was fully awake, pleased and truly humbled. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I was so excited. I called and woke up everyone in my family, all my friends, even my old high school drama teacher, Mr. Riggs. Back in New York, everyone at Sesame Street was gracious with their congratulations (Richard Hunt jokingly said that I owed him half an Emmy for tossing Elmo my way), and I felt proud to have the approval and appreciation of my peers.
When the statuette arrived at my house in Baltimore, I tore open the box like a