#edguinn

"The wide theatrical release of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" in the United States was on October 11, 1974. It premiered in Austin, Texas on October 1st, 1974, before its wider release."

On a stormy night in late November 1973, I’d packed my VW van and headed to ‘Big D’ - Dallas, Texas, hoping to find more acting gigs. New maneuvers. After filming ‘Headcheese’ wrapped, I’d sold my motorcycle and purchased a second-hand VW bus. Dallas is about 150 miles East of Austin. I’d arranged through friends to stay with their friends and look for an apartment. It was me and my stuff, all my worldly goods.

Cut to a year later, early November 1974, I was living in Dallas and working at a popular bar on Greenville Avenue in Old Town Village called “HP Cassidy’s". The club was owned by the Dallas Cowboys’ quarterback Craig Morton and some of his buddies. I’d met my three roommates at my first gig at a restaurant also in Old Town Village, Daddy’s Money, and soon left for the new happening spot, HP Cassidy’s, around the corner. From its grand opening, HP’s was always crowded, with lines down the sidewalk, a good hour to two hour wait was common in its first year. We worked hard and had a lot of fun! One particular night in late October ’74, when I’d just arrived for my shift, it was just getting started. My section upstairs in the mezzanine would soon be full to the max, and it never stopped the entire night. Closing time 2 PM. Keeping up was all we could do.I went downstairs to the bar to order my drinks with the bartender, Mike. “Hey, Mike, two scotch and sodas and one Tom Collins, please.” Almost before I got my order out, Mike asked me, “Hey, Teri, didn’t you tell me a while back that you were in some horror movie back in Austin?” Confused, as I had my mind on getting my drinks out, I replied, "Huh?" You could see the mezzanine from the downstairs bar station and I saw more tables filling up. Plus, I’d not thought about filming ‘Headcheese’ very much since we’d wrapped filming 14 months earlier.

I then remembered I must have mentioned it to him during our many chats at work. Over the 35 years since filming, I rarely told any one about my playing 'Pam' in the film that put Texas film and horror on the map. The previously oppressed genre began to take on a new life of its own around the world.

I replied, “Oh, yeah, right, I did.” Mike then told me that it was out, that he’d seen trailers showing on TV and that I was in all of them, running and screaming. That didn’t make any sense to me. “No, it couldn’t be me, I was the second girl, not the lead. You must have seen the other chick, Marilyn. She played the lead…” Mike interrupted me, “Teri, it was YOU! You’re in the whole thing.” Geez, I thought, that’s amazing. I still didn’t believe it though, until the next day when to my shock, there I was running from Leatherface. I’ll be damned, this is incredible, I thought to myself.

"There are moments in life when you can't believe what's happening is really true. Pinch yourself, you may find out it is." - Pam - The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

We saw it was showing at a theater near some friends who lived in Tomball, a tiny town north of Houston. One of my roomies and I were soon in my VW bus headed to Tomball to see what was then called, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” for my first time. It felt surreal. I’ll tell you that story next time.

Who was the creator of the apparatus that was used in filming the famous meat hook scene? That would be Dottie Pearl and Bob Burns. Together, the night before we were to film, as I recall, they stayed up into the wee hours getting IT ready, but how did they do it? Imagine if you will, a bikini bottom made of Parachute strapping. Now imagine needing to conceal the bikini gadgetry under some red corduroy short-shorts and backless bathing suit. Now imagine you need the girl wearing the apparatus to be hanging, dangling from a meat hook, that must hold her weight of 110 pounds, and simultaneously making sure no meat hook actually touches her bare back.

The idea was that the audience sees that meat hook coming ominously close to her back, how do we accomplish this safely? You add another piece of parachute strapping about 9-10 inches, sewn with great care to the top back of the parachute strapping in the back of the bikini. The strap was hidden underneath until The Scene of the drop shot. It had to be hidden inside, out of site until the actual drop by Leatherface as he struggles to hold on to the screaming, writhing, hysterical young woman, who’s trying with all her might to escape this impending terrifying disaster.

Next challenge: You need something on the end of the attached strap, something incredibly strong. They decided a large steel parachute ring, that could be guided by someone crouched below, spotting her, as Leatherface waits for his cue to drop her, would be perfect. The steel ring Must Go over the hook and hold her weight. No room for mistakes.

Another clever part of Pam’s meat hook apparatus was Dottie sewing in the twisted legs of panty hose that had great strength and could be pinned underneath the front edges of Pam’s tiny backless bathing suit top, hidden underneath, which helped to keep the apparatus and suit together, long enough to get the shot.

Yes, they used pantyhose, which btw, only became the rage in the early seventies. Fact. It was for all women, freedom… from garter belts. Yes, we actually wore hose, individually attached to garter belts up until then! A little history: In 1974, actress Julie Newmar successfully filed a patent for “Pantyhose with shaping band for cheeky derriere relief”, a garment innovation made famous through the costume she designed in the 1960s for her role as Catwoman in the TV show Batman.

So, when Pam is hanging on the meat hook, held up only by the strapping and stainless steel loop, what happens? Right, that’s when they added lots of foam cushioning, where 100% of the weight inevitably goes. 😬 My sincere thanks for that!

I vividly remember, Tobe calling cut, and looking out to a line of cast and crew, mouths aghast at what they’d just witnessed. You could hear a pin drop. It seems there was a deep collective sigh. We did it. We got the shot that I later heard some one refer to it as “the money shot”, which at the time went right over my head. What’s a money-shot? For me, that was the moment when it crossed my mind, “Hey, maybe we have something here.”

We began filming that scene around 9 AM and finished in time to enjoy our caterer, Sally Nicholaou’s, delicious lunch. It was fast. The awful part? The blood they used was karo syrup based. There are 3 seconds of blood dripping into the bucket below Pam’s dangling feet, maybe only 2 seconds. I Hope It Was Worth It!! Think Texas heat, Karo-syrup, and flies, plenty of flies. UGH. Dottie and I ran outside together, and landed at the windmill, me ripping off everything as Dottie took the water hose and sprayed me forever, until I was finally free of all remnants of sticky-icky karo-syrup, parachute strapping, shorts, bathing suit, et-al. LUNCH!!! ♥️🪝

September/October 1973 Ah, Youth, The Life Of an O’riginal Chainsaw Gal

A deep spring cleaning brought these little gems above to the surface.

In the days following filming Chainsaw ’74, after we’d wrapped, we were all finding our path, looking for ways to make money. I wasn’t in the brutal chainsaw dinner scenes (t’anks gods!!!). I was done and immediately looking for work, any work. Prior to filming I’d been working at Mrs. Robinson’s Restaurant at the corner of Riverside Drive and Congress Avenue in downtown Austin, for two years, paying for classes at St. Edward’s University, and doing well. Simultaneously, I’d been getting leads in all the plays at St Ed’s Mary Moody Northern Theater. After filming “Headcheese’ (Chainsaw ’74’s working title) for two-weeks, with little in the can, we shut down for a week. Then, we got a call that they found some money, filming was resuming. We all signed new contracts, but this time for ‘deferred money’. They’d kindly held my job at Mrs. R’s for the two weeks, but when we extended filming for another month, they had to hire someone to replace me. Drat. No job, no money.

Out of the blue, Daniel Pearl did me a solid. Our Chainsaw '74 cinematographer, Daniel, offered to shoot a portfolio for me with Daniel as the photographer, and Dottie Pearl assisting me with make-up and wardrobe. Both were full of great ideas, completely supportive, and very talented. Back in the day, with no internet, iPhones, computers, etc., we literally snail-mailed our pictures to casting agents and directors. When I think of the time-consuming hours of addressing, stamping, and trips to the post office, I get exhausted. Now, of course, you can scan and press Send.

Think about it.

The Good News: Everything finally worked out. As happens in life, things always change. For the past few years, our Chainsaw franchise has grown exponentially. I am pleased to report we have all grown close, appearing with my remaining cast mates to celebrate our 50th anniversary this year, since our filming and its release in 1974, appearing at various horror cons with my remaining cast members, together with our film crew members, Daniel Pearl, DP, JMichael McClary, ADP, and Ted Nicholaou, Sound Recordist. Fans love it and we love them!

Thanks to Kim Henkel, his son Ian Henkel, and Chase Anderson, we've been enjoying a real reunion to celebrate a little film we gave our hearts and souls to in the sweltering heat of July and August 1973, that went on to put Texas horror films on the map, a trailblazer, and lauded across the planet as a cult-classic in the horror genre. No sour grapes here, just great lessons learned, and thanks to all those who appreciate our work. We thank you.

The top right picture is from a print ad for Suzuki. Daniel had scored a local Suzuki commercial print ad shoot as DP in September 1973. When the director said they needed a girl who rode a motorcycle, Daniel did me yet another solid, he suggested me.🚀

Fifty years later, I’m still grateful.

xoxo,

Pammie 🪝💋

Original B&W photos by Daniel Pearl DP/ASC

Follow Daniel on Instagram: @danielpearldp

Via chainsawgal  on IG

Flower Child 🌸💐💃🏼🌺🌼🐝 March 1971 - when I was a free spirited little hippie gal, all of 19. My boyfriend of 8 months, George, was taking my picture in front of the house he shared with Gunnar Hansen. It was on Avenue G and 49th St. in Central Austin, near the UT campus. Gunnar and I quickly became sworn enemies. He was relentless in making sure I was left out while he and George went out to hunt chicks, drink beer, and smoke pot. George was quite easily encouraged in all three areas. Excluding me wasn't going to work, especially after I noticed a very handsome fellow eying me on the Shuttle Bus. After 13 months with George, I’d had my fill and was ready to move on. Young and inexperienced, I was only beginning to understand that if they don't value you, don't respect you, they don't deserve you. There would be many more challenges ahead, but extracting myself from someone who treated me as though I was expendable was a powerful lesson. As angry and hurt as I was with George, I was more angry with myself for allowing myself to be tied to someone who undervalued me. At that time of self-protection, I spent less and less time looking in the rear view mirror and gratefully lost track of George and Gunnar dang Hansen. Ah-Love. Good riddance I said. I hoped.

This was one year and five months before Gunnar’s and my paths would cross again. It was on July 18, 1973, the first day on the set where we were beginning filming a little low-budget, aka "scab" film, at that time under the working title, "HEADCHEESE”. The cast, crew, producers, et all were gathered on Quick Hill Road, just outside Austin, Texas. We were standing in groups outside what we later came to know as “The Sawyer house”. The house was surrounded by grazing pastures and vacant land and located at the end of an approximate 100' dirt driveway, located directly across the unpaved Quick Hill Road from what was referred to as the old "Hardesty" house.

I was in for a big surprise that morning. I was standing outside the Sawyer house on that muggy, hot Texas morning, chit-chatting with my acting colleagues, ‘Sally’, ‘Kirk’, ‘Jerry’, and ‘Franklin’ (you know them). We were getting to know one another. We were all dressed in our costumes, all our own clothes that they’d picked out from different outfits we’d brought from home for them to choose from, for us to wear in the film, a strictly low-budget affair. Nearby, parked in the yard of the Sawyer house, was the Vortex RV/trailer/office, a no frills, no AC job, where we were soon to sign our first contracts. Everyone was pretty excited and a bit lost, finding our way. One thing we all had in common, we were making a movie. This was a great adventure we'd make together!

Producer-writer, Kim Henkel, stuck his head out the open RV door and excitedly called over to me, “Hey, Teri!! Come over here! I want to introduce you to 'Leatherface!” OK, I’m ready. Kim seemed thrilled, proud as punch for us to meet. As I stepped inside the steaming tin mobile unit, I made my way down the narrow aisle, walking toward a very large figure, a man with a head full of brown curly hair, who was sitting with his back to me. He took up one of the two banquette seats. Someone was seated across from him, but I can’t remember who. As I got even with him, I noted he was almost as tall sitting down as I was standing up. This guy was big. I was feeling an eerie sense of deja vu. Kim said, “Leatherface, meet Pam!” Ta-da! He turned his head toward me, cocked his head to look at me, both of us prepared to say, “Hey, nice to meet ya!!” Instead, we both looked at one another in sheer horror. We each jerked back with our mouths wide open. Simultaneously, we both blurted out, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??!!!” They call them "excited utterances." I thought I'd lose my breakfast. Unbeknownst to either Gunnar, or myself, we'd both been cast in this dang little scab film.

We got through the moment, gathered our wits, quickly cooled our heels, and shared little with those around us. I'm thinking, "What have I gotten myself into?" Gunnar and I commiserated over coffee, kicked heels that first day on set, and most fortunately, we had a great time filming our scenes together and working with the entire crew.

A few weeks later, we began early that morning, stopped for lunch, then filmed straight through. During the final hour, they needed a few more shots, we were all wiped out. Around 8:30 PM, we were losing the light as well as the two actors. I'd already lost my voice. Kim Henkel appeared with a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. I took a few slugs and it soothed the pain. To be honest, it might have been Jack Daniels, I don't remember, but it was heep good medicine. Magically I was able to scream for the last few takes.

It was dusk, the heat had subsided as we walked out to Kim's truck. I don't remember the 15 mile drive back to my apartment at 909 West 22nd, just off Guadalupe St., aka "The Drag", across from the UT campus, home. I lived on the second floor and how I got up those stairs, I can't imagine. I was beyond sore. For 12 hours, I'd fought a 300 pound man for my life. My body ached and I felt completely limp, spent. I laid in my bed unable to turn over. I couldn't walk, lost my voice, had to cancel my performance as 'Lizzie', and my understudy went on. I wept for hours. I loved playing 'Lizzy Curry' like I'd never loved a character before. Actor Peter Breck was St. Ed's Special Guest, and played, 'Starbuck', "The Rainmaker". Great cast, such a rare, wonderful experience!

All the scenes with Leatherface that day stayed with me. I woke up throughout the night, anytime I changed position, the pain shot through my body. What a day that was filming, such a powerful experience. That memory has stayed with me. It moved in with me. Waking, sleeping, dreaming, eating, another hot bath, re-living the shoot, wondering... will the damn thing ever come out of the can?❓?

I stayed in bed for two days and was almost alive by the third morning. The coffee was divine. A-h-h-h-h. I'll live.

If I was tired, and I was, imagine how Gunnar felt! And, our poor exhausted crew. Hats off to all of them.

Over the years, Gunnar and George managed to reconcile. In 2012 Gunnar invited me to meet him at El Mercado in South First Street in South Austin, to interview me for his book. At the end, he asked if I ever talked to George, and had a few choice tidbits to tell me… but that’s a whole other story!

On a side note, both George and Gunnar eventually settled down and found the right girls. George married his Annie and they had three beautiful kids, who all settled far away Down Under. Gunnar spent 15 glorious years, his final years, with his love, Betty. At our MoMA celebration August 7-9, 2024, Betty said she felt grateful to have spent those years with Gunnar. Here's a toast to true love! 🥂 So, as you can see, Gunnar and I buried the ol' proverbial hatchet, and got on with things, and the rest, my friends, is history.

Thanks for reading.

Sending love to all.

Rest In Peace 🥀🌹🥀 Gunnar Hansen 1947-2015 George 1945-2017

**Thanks to Eric Goode for the cleanup and colorization on these 50-year-old B&W photos. @ericgoode106 on IG ❤

Saturday, 6 PM, January 22, 2022 Fair to Midland, partly cloudy, clear skies ahead.

xoxo,

Pam 🪝🌹