Free Behind the Candelabra: My Life With Liberace by Scott Thorson, Alex Thorleifson

to film The Pack, starring Joe Don Baker. He said the job was mine if I could be ready to leave in two days.
    I loved working for Mr. Shumaker, learning how to make up the dogs with Vaseline, mud, and phony blood so they’d look crazy-mean. Learning how to handle them, train them, and care for them seemed like a worthwhile life’s work. For the next year and a half I worked for Shumaker off and on. Despite my unhappy start in life I felt things were working out for me—my goals were set and, although I knew they’d be tough to achieve, I thought I was on my way.
    My personal life continued to revolve around a few gay friends I’d made while living in northern California. It was through them that I met a man I will call Bob Black. Black was about twenty years older than I, extremely good-looking in a blond, Nordic way, nicely dressed, well-spoken, and easy to talk to. During our first conversation he told me he was a choreographer-dancer who’d worked on various TV shows. I was attracted to him and intrigued by his show-business background. We met often during the next few months, building a friendship that lasts to this day. In July 1977, he asked me to go to Las Vegas one weekend to catch a few shows. Black owned a sporty Mercedes 450 SL and the idea of driving it cross-country appealed to me. Black also promised to take me backstage and introduce me to a few of the celebrities he knew.
    I loved Vegas on sight! The neon glitter and nonstop nightlife were intoxicating. Bob and I went to see Hallelujah Hollywood our first evening in town. The next night we caught Juliet Prowse’s act and afterward Bob took me backstage to meet her as he’d promised. Liberace’s show at the Vegas Hilton was last on Black’s agenda. I’d heard of Liberace for the first time a few weeks earlier when I’d seen a magazine article about him. From what I read, I didn’t think I would enjoy his performance. But Black, who knew Lee’s production manager, was determined to see the show and go backstage afterward to renew old acquaintances.
    The Hilton showroom holds twelve hundred people and it was packed that night. Lee’s obvious popularity took me by surprise. The guy couldn’t sing, I thought; he couldn’t dance, and he was over the hill! So how the hell did he draw such a crowd? Black had enough pull to get us an excellent table just as the house lights dimmed. From the moment Liberace appeared onstage in his mirrored Rolls-Royce, I was spellbound. The man seemed to be having such a good time that I couldn’t help being caught up by the fun. His humor sounded so fresh and spontaneous and he did such a terrific job of poking fun at himself that I got the impression he was ad-libbing all the way. The Chinese Acrobats of Taiwan performed while he changed clothes, and each time he returned to the stage his costumes were increasingly outrageous. It was pure camp and great fun.
    Midway through the act Lee introduced his protégé, a man I will call Jerry O’Rourke. The two men came out dressed in identical silver outfits, wearing the same jewelry. Their hair had been teased into identical, high pompadours and sprinkled with sequins. To me they looked like a matched pair of queens. Whether it was true or not, they appeared to me to be lovers. I looked around at the audience, wondering what all those middle-class, middle-aged women were thinking. Did they assume what I did about the relationship between O’Rourke and Liberace? Seeing nothing on their faces other than adulation and admiration, I couldn’t help nudging Black. “Doesn’t Liberace realize he and O’Rourke look like a matched set of queens?” I whispered.
    Black just grinned.
    Jerry and Lee were seated at white, back-to-back concert grands adorned with enormous matching candelabras. They played beautifully, but I thought Jerry was the better pianist—he certainly had the most difficult parts of their duets. They exited to thundering applause.
    After the show Bob took me