| It has been 18 years since a Channel 11 camera first zoomed in on a tall, well-groomed, immaculately dressed man sitting on a stool in front of two prop movie projectors marked simply "Chiller One" and "Chiller Two". Those movie projectors are now a distant memory, victims of an evolution as inevitable as the one which stole the svelte from the man's physique. The projectors were replaced first by a laboratory and then a castle; the athletic body by a heavier, middle aged model complete with rebuilt heart and, away from the public, read- ing glasses. "Chilly Billy is my name, Chiller Theater is my game," sings William Robert Cardille in his theme song. "Come now, and follow me." For a generation, Pittsburghers have done just that, watching Cardille and his "Chiller Theater" close the coffin on Saturday nights, as much a part of those wee hours as a final bite of a pepperoni pizza and the last cold Iron City. Pittsburgh had no trouble adopting Cardille, a man of Italian, German and English extraction who was born in Farrell during the Great Depression and raised in nearby Sharon. "I first appeared on stage as the master of ceremonies at a pep rally when I was in the ninth grade," Cardille says. "I told them, 'You probably think I'm nervous and you're so damn right.' Everybody broke up and I haven't shut up since." Cardille attended Indiana University of Pennsylvania on a basketball scholarship, earned in part by the quickness and agility that helped him during his years as part of two dance teams. While Cardille was in high school, he and his father performed as a father-son, song-and-dance team for various charitable and business organizations and in minstrel shows. At the same time, Cardille and an area girl had their own dance act, performing various dancing exhibitions and routines and entering several dancing contests a year - none of which they lost. Unfortunately for the university's athletic program, Cardille brought along something else - a gift of gab. He made a name for himself on the campus radio station, quit the basketball team and, a year before graduation, left school to join WICU-TV in Erie, then one of only 44 television stations in the country. A Low Point Working 60 to 70 hours a week at almost every job in the station paid off when, in September 1957, Cardille joined Channel 11 (then known as WIIC-TV) when it went on the air. He was soon hosting such diverse programs as "Luncheon at the Ones" and "Six O'Clock Hop," but by 1963 all those shows had died. "That was a very low point," Cardille admits, adding that only a vote of confidence by station management kept him in Pittsburgh. On Saturday afternoons, they used to run a 'Chiller Theater.' I was the announcer in the booth (off-camera) and in monkeying around, I would give a different introduction to the movies." Station officials were impressed enough to allow him to become a live host for the movies in the time spot following the 11 p.m. news. Soon the chain-smoking Cardille and his cauldron of blood and humor were delighting almost everyone. "I never liked to watch the show when I was a little girl because I'd get scared," sats Bill's oldest daughter, Lori Ann. "I hated when friends would come over to the house on Saturday because they'd want to watch Dad. "I'd say, 'Oh, it's just Dad on TV, big deal!' Then I'd go to sleep. Cardille, who lives in McCandless with his wife, Louise, has two other children, Bill Jr., who manages his father's North Hills travel agency, and Marea, who will soon be a freshman in college. "To me, he was never Chilly Billy. He was my father, a good father," says Lori, an actress in New York City who has appeared in network soap operas, a made-for-television movie, commercials and on the New York stage. "Somehow, no matter how busy he was, he'd always find time to spend with the family. I'm proud of him." Cardille continued to work tirelessly, hosting a variety of shows, making records and numerous personal appearances. Professional and personal stess, however, nearly killed him when in May 1973 he suffered a heart attack while attending a, AFTRA (American Federation of Television and Radio Actors) banquet in which he was to be sworn in as the chapter president. Even in his darkest hour, Cardille could still find a touch of gallows humor. "As my friend, By Williams, was rushing me to the hospital in his car, we were being chased by police cars because we kept going through red lights," Cardille says. "Then, as I was lying on the table in the emergency room, the doctor looked at my electrocardiogram tape and nodded to the nurse, who looked at the tape and nodded to him. Then they both looked at me and I went like this," says Cardille, shaking his head up and down. "I knew." He refuses to blame his workaholic nature for his heart attack; rather he points to his habit of making bad business deals. "I'm a soft touch, but I used to be softer," he says. "One time I bailed one of my cousins out of jail and he still hasn't paid me back." Cardille, who lost a kidney in his late teens because of an injury, probably suffered while playing basketball, has a heart that he says would do Frankenstein's monster proud. "My health is pretty good. I walk two miles a day," says Cardille who found smoking easier to quit than his hectic routine. "I come from a family of nine children. I don't want failure." His normal weekday includes a four-hour morning stint on WIXZ-AM radio, visits to the TV station to record announcements and commercials and write his "Chiller" scripts, afternoons at his travel agency and evenings either at Channel 11, countless personal appearance sites or at the area disco where he is the host for Saturday nights and special events. On weekends he tapes "Chiller" and makes more personal appearances. He's never too busy for charitable activities such as Jerry Lewis's Muscular Dystrophy fund drive, Easter Seals, the Heart Fund, the Shriners' Circus and private chats with those facing open-heart surgery. "You've got to try to put back what other people have given you. I remember what I went through," Cardille says. "I've always had empathy for my fellow man." After chatting with Cardille during his appearances at drive-in theaters, fireman's festivals and new store openings, folks tend to look at him as a neighbor, a friend to invite home. The warmth Cardille radiates both in person and on the tube may be the key to "Chiller Theater's" popularity. "If I could define the reason for Chiller's success, I'd bottle it and sell it," says Cardille who has the courage to aim his "Chiller" puns at some of his more famous fans such as Gov. Dick Thornburgh, Mayor Richard Caliguiri and Councilwoman Michelle Madoff. "A few months ago, the Prophet (one of his Chiller character- izations) predicted that Ms. Madoff and Council President Eugene DePasquale would headline the next professional wrestling show at the Civic Arena. "One night, Bob Prince did a skit on the show and the next day, a former president of U.S. Steel, I forget his name, said, 'Bob, what were you doing on Chiller Theater?' And Prince replied, 'What were you doing watching it?' "I like to think that we have good quality and a good product. It's clean fun, wholesome family entertainment," says Cardille who lightens both the taping sessions and sometimes gory movies by constantly joking with the television crew. Hamlet's Soliloquy No matter how campy the show gets, there are subtle hints of the more sophisticated thinking that goes into each situation. For instance, almost every week Cardille, with his curly hairpiece (kept permanently in place by surgical implants) and tuxedo, teels a series of deliciously corny jokes to a giggling skull - a scene that conjures up visions of Hamlet's graveyard soliloquy. Cardille is fiercely loyal to his audience, turning down offers to move to larger television markets simply because "I like Pittsburgh." "It's a tribute to Bill that he has maintained the audience he has," says WPXI program director Don Cunningham, especially since "Chiller", despite high ratings, was cut to one movie three years ago and moved back to a deadly 1 a.m. starting time to make room for NBC-TV's successful "Saturday Night Live" series. Chiller Family Gone The show has undergone other changes and more may follow. For instance, Cardille's on-air Chiller Family who joined the show in the mid-70's was dumped in February "because there really wasn't any need for them," says Cunningham. Also, in a move to take better advantage of the show's proven audience-drawing capacity, "Chiller Theater" will get a prime-time run, starting Friday at 8:30 p.m. with the 1931 version of Boris Karloff's "Frankenstein." In addition to Friday's show and three more prime- time airings of classic "Chillers" next month, the program will continue at it's regular time Sunday's at 1:00 a.m. Likewise, the master is in a state of transition. "My future is basically behind me...My family has really been after me to cut back," says Cardille. "They want me to quit the radio and personal appearances, cut back everything except the television. But I enjoy it all. I feel I'm stealing because I'm getting paid for something I would do for considerably less money." Then he grinned his Saturday night grin; that's one part of Chilly Billy that hasn't changed. Michael Hasch is currently a staff writer for the Pittsburgh Tribune Review. |
| By Mike Hasch |
| Note: This article originally appeared in the Pittsburgh Press TV Graphic section on July 25th 1982. |
