Volume I, Issue iv

December 1998

In Memoriam: Norma Connolly by Amy McWilliams

Every soap magazine has taken a page or two to remember Norma Connolly on the occasion of her death in November, and we wanted to take the time to do the same. Connolly played Luke and Bobbie Spencer's Aunt Ruby for just under two decades, and her last episode aired on December 4th. I have heard that the show will write her death into the show in the New Year and will give the characters a chance to mourn her passing.

Ruby was, perhaps, the ultimate Spencer. Fiercely loyal to family, she took in Luke and Bobbie after the death of their mother. Determined to make it by whatever means necessary, she was a madam, and Bobbie worked for her as a hooker when she grew older. She never let her circumstances get her down, though. Ruby instilled in her charges determination and the hope that they could rise above their Charles Street roots; she taught them unconditional love. To outsiders, she was a strong and sure enemy, to friends and family, a brusque broad with a heart of gold. And even though Connolly's health kept her from participating in the show in recent years, her presence at Kelly's always brought a sense of history and continuity to the show.

My favorite memory of Ruby is from 1980. Luke was to marry Jennifer Smith that day, and when his bargain with Smith to stay legitimate went sour and Scotty Baldwin shoved him off the boat, he ran away with Laura on the Left-Handed Boy adventure. Meanwhile, Bobbie and Ruby were left to believe that their Luke was dead. Bobbie was angry and weeping, blaming Laura, but Ruby was calm and comforting, always hoping that Luke would be found, safe and sound. She was their support in those days, their touchstone, while Norma Connolly played both touching and comic scenes equally well.

Ruby also had a sense of style. Teresa Leslie reminded me, when Carly was so entranced with her sable, of the scene in which Luke, finally finding some success in business, presents Bobbie and Ruby with minks. Ruby loved the fur because Luke gave it to her, but also for its own sake, and danced around in it like a queen. As Joan Roseman says:

"We all have our special memories of Ruby to cherish: how fiercely she loved her family; how generous she was to newcomers and the out-of-luck; how unrelenting she could be in her grudges, and how consequently sweet the rare reprieves would be. I share in those memories as well, but the side of Ruby I will miss the most was seen more rarely: Ruby the Cosmopolitan.

Long before V was spruced up and flown to Monte Carlo, another working class princess lived in Port Charles. She was no longer young, and she never wore a tiara (although Luke did spring for a mink one year, and it look pretty darned good), but Ruby could hold her own in any company. As the saying goes, you could dress her up and take her anywhere.

I remember many occasions in the old days when Ruby would come home from swabbing floors at General Hospital only to shower, change, and be dancing at a GH gala the same night. She was a welcome part of the social scene, and occasionally turned the head of a dashing recurring character or contract player. There was one memorable season when Ruby was one corner of a love triangle! (Jessie Brewer and Dan Rooney were the other angles.)

Perhaps the high point of Ruby's career as a Port Charles socialite came when Frank Smith threw the social event of the season, a ball in support of GH (he was a member of the Board and the donor of a wing). Although eaten away inside with fear for her nephew Luke, busy ransacking her host's office safe, Ruby was so much the elegant life of the party that she outshone Susan Moore, Frank's "hostess." When I remember Ruby, I'll remember her chili and advice, sure, but I'll also remember the former madam who showed old Port Charles a touch of class."

We loved Ruby, and we will miss Norma Connolly. Our thoughts and best wishes go out to those who worked with her and loved her.

Finally, I don't think Soaps in Depth would mind my reprinting the following information, which appeared in their December 15 issue: "Donations can be made in Connolly's name to the Actors Fund, 729 Seventh Avenue, 10th Floor, New York, NY 10019."