I never had a clue, though, how to get on the show. And, in those early years, the dollar amounts were not terrifically motivating. That, coupled with my military status, left me with a feeling that I could never get a chance to compete. Even when the second series (with Alex Trebek) appeared nine years before, the idea of trying out never occurred to me.
Several years ago, in 1990, I had a roommate in my home-away-from-home in the Philadelphia area who would watch JEOPARDY! with me, and he was so impressed with my ability to answer the questions instantaneously that he offered to pay my way to Southern California to try out. The offer was tempting, but I never took him up on it.
But the next year, I finally saw an opportunity; a contestant search was being held in the Philadelphia area. They announced an 800 number, which would provide instructions on how to become a contestant. The problem was that the basic mechanism for selection was to send in post cards. I sent in one, but I heard that some hopefuls sent in hundreds! The local JEOPARDY! outlet received tens of thousands of post cards. From these, they randomly selected several hundred people to come in and take the remainder of the tryout. Needless to say, my card wasn't selected.
In June of 1992, they announced another contestant search that looked much more promising. It was to be held in Atlantic City, at Merv Griffin's Resorts Casino (he's the creator, former owner, and still Executive Producer of the show). The particularly egalitarian aspect of this contestant search was that admission to the final tryout was to be determined by a pre-test. This put the process more in the contestant's hands rather than in the hands of Lady Luck.
On June 9, I left work at the Franklin Mint a little early, and drove to Atlantic City. In a small bar off the boardwalk lobby of the casino, they had set up tables (standing height), and a tape player. Every ten minutes or so from Noon to 8 P.M., they would let people in, put one of ten different ten-question tests face-down in front of them, and start the tape. The tape contained instructions on how to take the test, and controlled the timing. We had three minutes to answer the ten questions; they were "fill-in-the- blanks." The questions were from all different categories, including history, literature and science.
At 8:30, they announced the names of all those hopefuls who answered seven or more questions right. The reward for being one of those named was a piece of paper that entitled you to appear during the week of June 22-June 26 to complete the tryout. People who failed one day could come back once per day to continue to take the pre-test. I later read that about 10,800 people took the pre-test, out of which about 1000 qualified to come to the auditions.
A co-worker of mine tried twice, and, as luck would have it, got the same test the second time as he did the first. Having looked up the answers after his first experience, he naturally passed it the second time, but he didn't get past the audition. I got either seven or eight questions right, but I don't remember much about them (I usually debrief after tests), but I remember them asking who wrote Hedda Gabler (Ibsen) and in what city was the treaty signed that ended the French and Indian Wars (I put down Ghent; it was Paris). I was scheduled to appear for the audition on Tuesday, June 23.
I took all day off on June 23. The test was scheduled to begin about 10 A.M. I figured that if it went for a couple of hours, then by the time I got back to the Philly area, it would be too late to get back to work anyway.
I got there about 9:30 and waited in line with the other hopefuls. A lot of them were really talking themselves up, but the rest of us just kept our mouths shut, preferring to let the test separate the winners from the losers. I did converse with a couple of very interesting people who unfortunately didn't make it.
There were about 200 people there. We were split into two approximately equal-sized groups in two ballrooms. At the front of each room were two big-screen monitors and a table. After we filled out some initial forms and listened to Susanne Thurber, the Contestant Coordinator, explain the process to us, they started the test.
The answer sheet contained nothing but fifty numbered blanks. The test consisted of Alex Trebek reading fifty questions from fifty different categories. Ten seconds was provided for us to write down the answer to each question; the answers didn't have to be in the form of a question. There was no board, no Jeopardy! or Double Jeopardy!, only the fifty questions.
The papers were then collected and taken off to be scored. In the intervening time, they showed a JEOPARDY! game from the recent past. It was fun to watch it, as almost everyone there knew almost all the answers, and we all called them out. After about a half-hour, the staff returned with the test results. They called out the names of all those who passed; needless to say, I was one of them. Amazingly, I wasn't surprised. It never occurred to me that I might not pass (I would have been really shocked if I hadn't). There were now about 30-40 of us.
The next step was the "mock games." They split the remaining people into groups of three. The only restriction here was that no two people in the same group have the same name. The groups went to the front one at a time. The mock games were real low-tech; they had a table with piles of questions behind papers showing the categories. The questions were sheets of paper in sheet protectors, with the question written on both sides. The contestants were given office bells to hold in the palm of the left hand and strike with the right hand.
Susanne sat to the side with the forms for each of the contestants; these forms contained blanks for her to grade each of us. She would assign someone to select a category and fake an amount. The Assistant Producer, Rocky Schmidt, would pick up the next question from the stack for that category, hold it up, and read it. We were to wait until he finished reading the question, then (if we thought we knew the answer), ring the bell and wait to be called on. Susanne apparently looked for people who were too nervous to perform on the show, or for those who didn't follow directions and rang in too soon, or were to indecisive about selecting another category.
Whatever the criteria, they eliminated a few more people. Susanne pronounced us qualified JEOPARDY! candidates. The final count in our room was 23. Extrapolating for the other room and the other four days would give an estimate of 230 qualified contestants from the 1993 Atlantic City search. They had us pair off and took Polaroid shots, which they fastened to our data sheets. Finally, they asked each of us to stand, introduce ourselves to the rest of the group, and say what we would do if we won big on JEOPARDY!. I said that I would buy my wife Ann a new horse trailer, buy myself a new PC, and take a trip to France, where Ann could fulfil a longtime wish to ride in the Bois de Bologne.
We were told that the shows would start taping in July, and that the early contestants had already been selected. Contestant selection occurs about six weeks prior to taping, but we were told nothing about how they decide who to invite and when. The only criterion they mentioned (and this was, no doubt, a minor one) was that they couldn't take two people with the same first name within five shows of one another. This would eliminate the possibility of confusion when Alex calls on a contestant to question an answer. They also told us that taping would end around the end of March, so that if we hadn't heard from them by the end of February, we weren't going to be selected this season, and that we should try again next year.
I checked Alex Trebek's The Jeopardy! Book out from the library. In it, Alex mentioned that although over 1500 candidates are qualified from contestant searches, only about 500 are needed for a season of the show. This put the overall odds at 3:1. In addition, he admitted a slight bias toward female contestants. About 70% of the candidates (about 1050) are men, but they try to take about 40% women for the shows. This makes the odds for men about 7:2 and the odds for women about 9:4.
As a result, I was getting pretty worried. Ed Trautman, a Vice President of the Franklin Mint, and a friend of mine, suggested a strategy. On about half of the shows, during the break between Double Jeopardy! and Final Jeopardy!, an announcement basically says this: "If you are going to be in Southern California, and want to be a contestant on Jeopardy!, send a letter to ..."
His strategy was this: Write to them, reminding them that I have already qualified as a contestant, and that I will be in Southern California at some date in the future. They may take me up on the offer, and schedule me for that time. I did just that, telling them that I would be there during the week of January 18-22.
When I got home to Gaithersburg, Maryland at about 8 P.M. on January 8,1993, there was a message on our Answer Call service from Glenn Kagan, one of the contestant coordinators at Jeopardy!. Because of the time, I couldn't get back to them. Their message listed their working hours starting at 9 A.M. Pacific Time (1 P.M., our time). I had to wait the whole weekend and half the working day Monday! He had also left a message on my voice mail at work. T he quandary I had now was whether they were taking me up on my offer to be there the next week. I would have very little time to arrange vacation at work or to make airline reservations.
Monday, of course, was hell. I talked to my manager to warn her that I might have to ask for vacation on very short notice. A few hours later, she felt impelled to warn me that my job was being discontinued, and that I was to be terminated that Friday, knowing that this could seriously impact my ability to finance my trip. When 1 P.M. did roll around, and I called Glenn, he wasn't available because they were busy taping.
I didn't get through until the next day. I had in fact been selected for the show. No, he didn't know about my letter. Could I appear for taping on Monday, February 8th, 1993?
Thursday afternoon, she dropped the bomb on the department. The reaction was, for me, heartening. One woman offered to be let go in my place, if it were a matter of money. Several of the others had strong things to say to her. But the die was cast. On Friday, they gave me a nice luncheon; I left from the restaurant, and never went back.
I have a brother, Doug, who lives with his wife and family in San Diego. Even though I had seen him a few times in the approximately 30 years he has been on the West Coast, and had met his wife, Lola once, I had never met his children or seen his house. So I called him to tell him I was coming out. He offered a bed at their house. We decided I would spend Saturday night with them, but drive up to Hollywood Sunday night so that I could get a good night's sleep before the show. I arranged for the two of them to be in the audience, but they didn't have to be there until about Noon. I had to be there at 9:30 A.M.
I didn't do too much more studying during the last couple of weeks. I had made a database in my computer of the U.S. Presidents, and studied that list. I also got a complete list of the English kings and queens. Neither of these sets of information were needed on my day on the show.
I had gotten a part-time job working for what could best be called a computer temp agency. For a couple of weeks, I traveled to different offices in the Northern Virginia Hospital System performing PC software installations, troubleshooting and configuration. It was enjoyable, but the hours weren't consistent enough for me to really be able to depend on the income. I had interviews with two companies within five miles of my house, and ended up getting an offer from CDSI, with whom I am now working. But I didn't start working for a month after getting back from the show.
Doug and Lola's house was a modest stucco ranch house that they have fixed up quite nicely. Basically, they live there by themselves with two dogs, all their children having moved out. After some nice quiet time catching up on the news, we took the afternoon to visit the Wild Animal Park run by the San Diego Zoo. I was quite impressed by the facility, and paid careful attention to all the information provided by the tram driver that I might need on the show. Their son, Michael, came over later, and we all went to dinner.
The next day, I was given a tour of San Diego, complete with a visit to Cabrillo Point, which I found to be particularly fascinating. The city is quite picturesque, and I had a chance to see the Submarine Base (I had spent my entire submarine Navy career on the East Coast) and the Naval Recruit Training Command. I also got to see, if only from a distance, the famous Hotel del Coronado, that has been the backdrop for several movies, including The Stunt Man.
But after dinner, I had to head back up to Los Angeles so I could get to bed as early as possible. That was more easily said than done. That evening, Los Angeles had one of its worst rainstorms in recent years. There was what sounded like a leak in the ceiling of my second-floor room, and the ceiling was discolored at about that location. I was worried that it might saturate and fall down on me. It turned out that the sound was from the toilet. But the rain was severe enough to flood some underground parking garages in Beverly Hills, and cause a cave-in a few blocks away. The hotel had to siphon water out of the swimming pool.
We were escorted to the "Green Room" (this is a traditional theater term for a sitting room for cast or guests) for our pre-game briefing. They provided coffee, doughnuts and bagels. The briefing was given by Susanne Thurber, the head Contestant Coordinator. Also in the room were Glenn Kagan and Kelley Carpenter. After introductions all around, we signed official copies of our contestant agreements. A makeup man gives everyone a dusting with pancake makeup.
A representative from ABC's Standards and Practices department gave a short briefing about the strict rules they follow to ensure that no one gets an unfair advantage. It is very important to them that there is not even the appearance of any possibility of cheating. As part of this policy, the group that handles the contestants is completely separate from the group that writes the questions and designs the games. Even Alex Trebek doesn't see the questions until the day of the taping, and he does not meet the contestants before the shows.
We were then taken to the studio for orientation. This was mainly handled by Glenn. He showed us around the set, and let everybody stand behind the podiums. The board has several modes of operation other than the normal game mode. Some of these are designed to allow the contestants to practice. The first is a pure button practice mode where you just practice pressing the button in reaction to the lighting of the "ready" lights (to be explained later). Finally, Glenn takes the contestants through a complete practice game, complete with Jeopardy!, Double Jeopardy! and Final Jeopardy! rounds. During the course of this game, all the contestants have the opportunity to stand at a podium and practice ringing in, supplying questions and selecting the next category and amount.
What most viewers don't realize about the playing of the game is the most important factor in deciding who gets to answer any given question. There are lights on either side of the game board that are not visible on television. These lights are turned on by a staff member when Alex has finished reading the answer. I'll call them the "ready" lights. The contestants must wait until these lights come on before pushing their buttons. If a contestant pushes his/her button too soon, his/her button is deactivated for a half-second. If you wait until you see the light, chances are you've missed the window of opportunity. The best contestants anticipate the timing between Alex and this other staffer, and press the button as the "ready" lights come on.
The staff advises contestants as to how to play the game. First, obviously, don't try to ring in unless you know the answer or are reasonably certain you can figure it out within the time allowed. Then, press the button repeatedly once Alex finishes reading the answer, and continue pressing it until he calls on someone to provide the question (hopefully you). In this manner, even if your first press was premature, you may be able to get the call if the other players don't press theirs within your half-second. It still comes down to knowing the answers.
The last thing we did was to record the "home-town howdies," short promotional announcements that are made available to the local stations. Mine said: "Hi! My name is Phil Somerset. Watch me take the Jeopardy! challenge right here on WJLA, Channel 7!" I have since called WJLA; they said they don't show them.
At this point, we still didn't know who would be in what show, except for the returning champion. Susanne picked the contestants for the first show, who were taken to the stage for final prep. The rest of us were escorted to the rest room for a pit stop. It was after noon by this time, and the audience was allowed in to be seated.
The final technical preparations were made, and Johnny Gilbert, the announcer, began working the crowd. He explained many of the mechanical workings of the set, and answered questions from the audience. Alex made his appearance, and spoke to the crowd as well.
Finally, it was time to start. The stage director, John Lauderdale, got everybody ready, and gave a countdown. The familiar Jeopardy! theme music started, and Johnny's voice began the (also) familiar words: "This.. is.. Jeopardy! Now entering the studio are today's contestants!" Another game began, just like all the one's I had seen over the years, except that I was really there!
The show runs with the same timing you see at home. During the commercial breaks, Johnny and Alex answer questions from the audience, and the contestant coordinators have the contestants turn away from the game board, and give them advice and water. Only between Double Jeopardy! and Final Jeopardy! does the tape stop. During this interval, the contestants are given paper and pencil to figure out their wagers, and to write them on the electronic screen in front of them. This way, the staff knows what each player's score will be if they get the question right or if they get it wrong.
In the first show, the returning champion was beaten. There went his hopes to become a four-time champion and get invited to the Tournament of Champions. Susanne called out two more names for the second show; still not me. Good thing! The questions were pretty tough, and I missed the Final Jeopardy question (it wanted to know which god the Roman emperor Augustus prayed to avenge the death of Julius Caesar: it was Mars).
Tom and I drew papers from a paper cup to see which podium we would stand at. I wound up at position 3, which meant that I was the first introduced. Once we were at our positions, everything went into automatic. My biggest problem was that my thumb was shaking over the signalling button. I found I had more control if I held the button behind my back.
The Jeopardy! round began.
Things were going pretty well. I had a respectable score at the end of the Jeopardy! round. Alex then began the interview section. Each of us had been asked to provide five interesting things about ourselves for Alex to ask us about.
The one he chose for me was my trip to Morocco with Ann to go to the wedding of her friend Chafik el Khatib to his wife Hadija. Alex asked me a question to which I didn't know the answer. I hope I didn't hurt U.S.-Moroccan relations.
Toward the end of the Double Jeopardy! round, I was ahead by $5000. I had only answered one question wrong during the entire game, and both Mike and Tom had missed it too (No harm, no foul). There were only two clues left when Mike found the last Daily Double on the $800 clue.
I was still $2600 ahead. In a very smart move, he wagered enough to go ahead of me by $1100. Even if I had answered the $1000 question, he would still have been ahead at the end. No one pushed his button on that question. I had $9200, but Mike had $10,300.
The category for Final Jeopardy! was "American Musical Theater." Tom had $3100. I had to decide whether to try to catch Mike or make sure I didn't lose second place to Tom. Kelley stood there encouraging me to decide quickly. I figured that if I wagered $2999, and got the question wrong, I would end up with $6201, a dollar more than Tom could get. Instead, I wagered all $9200.
The question was: "A 1920's French production of this musical about 19th Century entertainers, was titled "Mississippi."
I wrote down "Show Boat" on both my electronic board and on the index card they provide for the purpose.
Alex started with Tom. He got it right, and had wagered $1000. He ended up with $4100.
My question was revealed next. I, too, was right. Alex's only response was "Wow!" My score was now $18,400. Finally, Mike's question was revealed. Unfortunately, he was right, too. He had wagered $8101, and ended up with $18,401, exactly $1 more than my score.
In Jeopardy!, only the winner gets to keep the money represented by his/her score. The second and third place finishers get prizes selected by the staff. Generally, the second place prize is a trip to some vacation-type location (When I called home to tell my wife how I had done, she asked, "Where are we going?"). My second-place prize was Gibson kitchen appliances: a refrigerator-freezer, a gas range, and a dishwasher. The prize also included RevereWare cooking utensils and Corning Cranberry Visions serving ware. Tom got some pieces of Michael C. Fina crystal.
After the end of the third show of each taping day, the audience is cleared, and the crew breaks for dinner. The remaining contestants are provided with a meal. Those of us who were finished were encouraged to depart. I had asked if I could stay and watch the remining shows, and had received approval to do it, but my brother and his wife were leaving with the rest of the audience, and I wanted to go out to dinner with them. I didn't know, therefore, how Mike did after that.
I bought two high-grade video tapes to tape the show. Since there was a group of co-contestants who spent the day with me, I wanted to record the whole week (and the first day of the next week). I recorded them at LP except for my show which I recorded at SP (the slowest speed which gives the highest quality recording). I gave the other tape to a neighbor across the street to record my show, so I would have a backup at worst, and two copies at best.
We bought a bunch of party supplies and waited for everyone to show up. We had about fifteen people. They included Tom and Susanne Arnold; Richard, Diane and Ricky Blanton; Rick Parker; Kate (Ann's sister) and her squeeze Chris; our next-door neighbor Tim Tickle; Joe Gomez and his wife; Angela (?) and her husband and son.
I received my prizes on about the first of October, 1993. I had been in contact with the prize coordination company (P-I-C) concerning the prizes. Within three days of the taping date, contestants have the right to refuse the prize and forgo tax liability. After that date, they assume the obligation to pay the taxes. The state of California takes 7% tax on the stated value of the prize up front. The prize is also considered income, and is therefore reported to the IRS and the home-state tax agency. The income taxes can, however, be paid on the fair market value of the products, which is somewhat less than the list price.
We ended up donating all of our old appliances. I donated the refrigerator to my youngest sister in return for her husband's services in helping to install the new stuff. The old range and dishwasher were donated to a shelter in downtown DC.
