We rounded out the casting of Jeannie with Hayden Rorke playing the psychiatrist, and Barton MacLane as General Peterson.

I felt that the show should open with animation, to tell the story of Jeannie's discovery by an astronaut. One of the best animators in Hollywood was Friz Freleng, but he had worked mostly in motion pictures, and had done very little television. I sent him the pilot script and asked him if he would be interested in animating the opening sequence. He was, and he created a brilliant opening.

I hired Dick Wess, a talented composer, to write the music for the first season, but after hearing it, I felt it was wrong for the show. Instead, I used a bright, upbeat melody written by Hugo Montenegro for the Jeannie theme.

The bottle that I selected for Jeannie's home was a Jim Beam liquor decanter, which we painted in bright colors.

The first day of rehearsal went smoothly. We had a reading of the pilot script with the cast and our director, Gene Nelson, and I asked the actors if they needed any changes, or if they were comfortable with their lines. I wanted to make sure the actors were satisfied because I wanted no ad-libbing when they started to shoot. Everyone was happy.

I Dream of Jeannie was ready to start creating its magic.

In the morning, less than an hour after production on the pilot began, my secretary said, "Mr. Nelson is calling from the set."

I could not wait to hear the good news. "Gene - "

"I'm quitting. Get someone else. Sorry." He started to hang up.

"Wait! Wait a minute!" I was panicky. "Stay right where you are. I'm on my way down there."

Three minutes later, I was on the set. I took Gene aside. "What happened?"

"Nothing. That's the problem. I can't work with actors who don't know their lines. Larry Hagman doesn't know his lines and Bill Daily doesn't know his lines, and - "

"Stay right here." I was furious.

I called Larry over to the side. "How dare you come on this set the first day of shooting and not know your lines."

He looked at me in surprise. "What are you talking about? I know my lines."

"The director says you don't."

"Well, all I did was to expand on them a little. I had some ideas, and I just added a few things here and - "

"Larry! Listen to me and listen carefully. We have a tight schedule. We have a lot of pages to shoot every day. You'll say the lines exactly as they're written. Is that clear?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

I called Bill Daily aside. "What excuse do you have for not knowing your lines?"

He said, "I'm sorry, Sidney. I - I've never had to learn lines before. I always worked in clubs like The Improv. I did a comedy act."

"This is not The Improv," I snapped. "If you want to stay in this show, you've got to memorize your lines."

He swallowed. "Okay."

I went back to Gene Nelson. "There's been a little misunderstanding, Gene. I think after today, everything is going to be fine. I want you to stay with the show. Larry will be great. I'm going to tape Bill's dialogue and let him play it in the car on his way to and from the studio, so he can learn it. Will you give it another chance?"

There was a long pause. "I'll try, but - "

"Thank you."

The opening scene of the pilot was filmed at Zuma Beach, thirty miles northwest of Los Angeles. The scene consisted of Larry, as an astronaut, stranded on a deserted island when his spacecraft malfunctions. He sees a bottle, uncorks it, and finds a genie inside. Since he has freed her, by the rules of the genie game, he is now her master. She blinks in a rescue ship and he thinks he has gotten rid of her, but she has no intention of leaving him.

The scene went well. The day went well and we were all pleased.

On the way back to the studio, in a company limousine, I got my first glimpse of Larry Hagman's ambition. We had stopped at a red light next to a car full of tourists. Larry rolled down the window of the limousine and, in a loud voice, yelled out at them, "Someday you'll all know who I am."

Larry had some emotional problems to deal with. His mother was Mary Martin, a top Broadway star, with whom he had a difficult relationship. She had been busy with her career, so Larry was raised by his father, Ben, in Texas.

Some of the time he lived with his grandmother and traveled back and forth to New York, to visit his mother. He wanted to show his mother that he could also be a star. Someday you'll all know who I am.

When the pilot was finished but had not yet aired, I received a call from Mary Martin. "Sidney, I would love to see the pilot. Is there any way you could arrange it?"

"Of course."

I was on my way east to work on The Patty Duke Show, so I arranged for the pilot of Jeannie to be screened for her in New York.

In the projection room were Mary Martin, a few executives from Screen Gems, and John Mitchell, who was head of sales for Screen Gems.

Before the screening started, Mary Martin went up to John Mitchell, took his hand, and said, "I hear you're the best salesman in the world."

I could see John stand visibly taller.

"I've heard so much about you," Mary Martin went on. "They say that you're a genius."

John Mitchell tried not to blush.

"Screen Gems is very lucky to have you."

He barely managed to stammer out the words "Thank you, Miss Martin."

The screening began. When the show had ended, the lights came on. Mary Martin turned to John Mitchell and said, "Anybody could have sold that show."

I watched John shrink.

Jeannie opened to mixed reviews. The critics were mostly dismissive, but the audience was not. The show had a loyal following from the beginning and it grew.

I decided to use guest stars on this show also. Farrah Fawcett did a segment, as well as Dick Van Patten, Richard Mulligan, Don Rickles, and Milton Berle.

I wrote a script about a fake fortune-teller, called "Bigger than a Bread Box and Better than a Genie." I asked Jorja to play the part of a fortune-teller. It was in the spring and Natalie was coming to visit us.

Jorja said, "Why don't you give Natalie a part in the show? She could play one of the characters in the seance scene."

I laughed. "I think she'd enjoy that."

When Natalie arrived, I asked, "How would you like to be on television?"

"I wouldn't mind," my mother said coolly.

"Jorja is going to star as a fortune-teller and you can be one of the characters in the seance scene."

She nodded. "Fine." She was very composed about her debut on national television.

I wrote a few lines for Natalie to read and left them with her. While I was working at the studio, Jorja rehearsed her in her part.

The next morning I auditioned Queenie Smith, a wonderful actress. I decided that she should have Natalie's lines, so I wrote some new lines for Natalie and when I got home that evening, I gave them to her.

She read them and said, "No."

I was puzzled. "No - what?"

"I can't read these lines."

"Why not?"

"Because my character would never say this."

This from a seventy-year-old woman who sold dresses in Chicago.

I argued with her, but I could not take the lines away from her and I had to write something else for Queenie Smith.

The scene went well. Colonel Chuck Yeager played himself in the episode. Natalie was so good that no one knew she was not a professional actress.

Larry had met her at dinner, so when he found out that she was going to be in the show, he jokingly said, "Ahh, I see a little bit of nepotism here."

"You're right, Larry," I told him. "Fair is fair. When your mother comes to town, I'll be happy to use her in the show."

The network had moved Jeannie from Saturday night to Monday night. It was only the beginning. The following year it was Tuesday night. The next year Monday, and the next year Tuesday. Fortunately our audience was loyal enough to find us.

Later, after Natalie had returned to Chicago, "Bigger than a Bread Box" appeared on television. She called me the day after.

"Thank you, darling."

"What for?" I asked.

"I've been getting phone calls all morning. I'm a star."

We had shot a dozen shows and the studio and network were very pleased with them. Jorja and I were at a friend's house for dinner when I received a telephone call from Barbara Eden.

"Sidney, I have to see you."

"Fine, Barbara, I'll be in the studio in the morning and - "

"No. I have to see you tonight."

"Is something wrong?"

"I'll tell you when I see you."

I gave her the address.

She arrived an hour later. I took her into the den. She was near tears.

"You'll have to replace me."

I was stunned. "Why?"

"I'm pregnant."

It took a moment for this to sink in. "Congratulations."

"I'm sorry to do this to you."

"You haven't done anything to me. You're staying on the show."

She looked at me in surprise. "But how - "

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'll take care of it."

The following morning I asked Gene Nelson to come to the office. "Gene, we have a problem."

"I heard," he said. "Barbara's pregnant. What are we going to do?"

"We're going to raise the camera higher. We'll shoot her above the waist, cover her with more veils, and use long shots. We can manage. I don't want to replace her."

He was thoughtful for a moment. "Neither do I."

And we managed to finish the season from the third week to the eighth month of her pregnancy.

There were storm clouds brewing in the east, so I flew back to New York to see if I could help calm things down.

John and Ethel Ross had found out that Patty and Harry Falk continued to secretly meet. Determined not to let it develop into a romance, the Rosses arranged for the show to be moved to California for its third season. In a sense it was a good move for me, because I no longer had to be bicoastal. But trouble was looming.

When I came back to California, I found a beautiful house for Jorja and me to rent in Thousand Oaks. I knew Patty and the Rosses were looking for a place, so I suggested that they look at the house I was going to take, and if they liked it, I would let them have it. They did like it and they moved in.

NASA was very cooperative with the Jeannie production. We toured Edwards Air Force Base and the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, and met several of the astronauts. Many of them watched the show and were fans. They let us use their facilities at Edwards, where I took a flight in a Gemini simulator and sampled the dehydrated food. It was terrible.

The ratings for Jeannie remained high the first year, but all was not well on the set. The problem was Larry Hagman. I planned to use more guest stars, but Larry was always antagonistic toward them. He would be sullen and ignore them, and spend time sulking in his dressing room.

He wanted to be the star and he wanted it now. It was Barbara who was getting all the magazine covers and interviews. Larry wanted to show the world that he could be as successful as his mother. The result was that he put himself and everyone else under tremendous pressure.

I was not aware of it then, but every morning Larry opened a bottle of champagne and began drinking. It never affected his work on the set. He always knew his lines and was never less than adroit. But the pressure began to show.

One morning, after a reading, I asked the actors if there were any problems. All of them said they were satisfied. When I got back to my office there was a call from Gene Nelson.

"I need your help, Sidney. Larry's in his dressing room, crying. He won't come out."

I went to Larry's dressing room and we talked for a long time. Finally, I said, "Larry, I'm going to do everything I can to help you. I'll write scripts where the plots will revolve around you."

And so, I began to write scripts to build up Larry's character and make him more prominent. But when an actor is in a show with a scantily dressed actress as beautiful and enticing as Barbara Eden, it is very difficult for him to become the star.

Larry became more and more miserable, and it was upsetting everyone on the set. Barbara was very patient with him. I finally had another talk with Larry.

"Larry, do you like this show?"

"Sure."

"But you're not happy doing it?"

"No."

"Why?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"Sure you do. You want to be in a show where you're the star."

"I guess so."

"You're a very important part of this show, Larry. But if you want to stay in it, you have to take the pressure off yourself. I think you should see a psychiatrist. And I wouldn't wait."

He nodded. "You're right. I will."

A short while later, he told me he had made regular appointments to see a psychologist. It helped to a degree, but the tension was still there.