Entries in Charlie Adlard (3)

Diary of a Walking Dead Zombie, Day Two; or, I Could Eat a Horse! (Part 3 of 3)



After breakfast (yes, the diner), I drove to the set and prided myself on being a few minutes early. That is when I realized that you really need to be there about an hour before your call time if you expect to make the cut.

Day Two was incredible. I knew of the significance of The Tank, from its prominence in the first two issues of the comic book. Little did I know what variation Darabont and Kirkman had cooked up for the show.

But what really worried me was the absence of Jack. Dangit, I thought to myself. Jack must have succumbed to the heat! The previous day was “hot as balls,” as Gary Whitta candidly observed. I was genuinely worried about Jack, especially since he had to wear a suit during the filming.

Preoccupied with Jack’s condition, I sat, moved, sat, moved, and eventually sat in one of the makeup chairs. After I was made up, sprayed, and reissued my mask, the group I was in was escorted to the holding area, and then on to the set -- and The Tank.

When I got onto the set, there was Jack! But not masked Jack. It was full-on, prosthetic made-up and contact-lensed Jack! He looks awesome! He proceeds to tell me that he had a 4:45 AM call time, and he is sitting around when Nicotero came into the holding area, scans the room, and says, “You, you, you, and (looking at Jack) – YOU – come with me.” They go outside and into the KNB Effects Group makeup trailer. Jack is motioned to sit in the last chair. It is Nicotero’s makeup station. Yes, Nicotero makes him up personally!

Jack says to Greg, “You know, there’s this older guy from Tallahassee, knows everything about the Walking Dead, and says you are the best in the world at what you do.”

I am so happy for Jack. He is going to have so much fun. If, and this is a big if, if he can see where the Sam Hill he is going. Those full-eye contacts are not made for seeing, just sayin’.

It is time to film the Horse Takedown Scene. We see the stunt horse wrangler (Tommy Turvey of Brooksville, Florida) and several other people we did not see yesterday. Turvey is dressed as Grimes, as he was the previous day during the crowd scenes. Joining Turvey for a pow-wow are a woman and two men, all in full Hero Zombie prosthetic makeup.

 The rules for us are simple: Stay quiet and stay away from the horse! The plan is for the horse to fall down and roll over as the stuntmen and the woman wrangler gently coax the horse over. I notice two people with clipboards, intently looking the scene over. They are wearing golf shirts with the emblem of the American Humane Society on the front.

Then all is explained. The woman works with Turvey and very well may be his sister Karen Turvey-Marshall. The two men are professional stuntmen. One is from north Florida, and one lives on the Georgia-Alabama border.

We are to stay in the background as the professionals work with the horse. Then Darabont yells, “Action!” As planned, the horse rears. Turvey “falls” off the horse as the stunt men and the woman wrangler surround and then place their hands upon the horse. It is quiet as church while this happens. Then, the horse falls and rolls over, on command. Turvey makes a sound with his lips and the horse raises its head as if it is writhing in pain. We begin surrounding the horse from a safe distance. The stunt men and horse woman begin acting as if they are eating the horse. And the horse stays put and pretends to be writhing!

(In the picture above, I am at the extreme upper-right-hand corner, next to Michelle Flanagan-Helmeczy, who was kind enough to tag me in the photo.)

Darabont yells, “CUT!” and laughs maniacally! The horse takedown scene took one take. One take. Amazing. The horse is the best actor on the set.


 It’s time to Chase Rick. All of us are around the tank. (I am in the extreme upper left corner). We do take after take, shambling around the bloody tank. Then we chase Andrew Lincoln under the tank. He is sweaty and he is dirty and his arms and hands are covered with asphalt pebbles, because they cannot use the fake pavement mat for these shots. He is working his fanny off and he is not uttering anything even remotely negative. He immediately earns major respect from the other actors, who are also sweaty and dirty and whatnot.

 The light is overhead now, and they bring in some sort of diffusing screen that diffuses light, but is also translucent and silvery and it is hot Hot HOT under there. I retreat to the safety of the sunlight. I am bald and they have spray-painted my head with black paint, so there is zero chance my head is going to get burnt. I stand in the street between takes, arms extended, grateful for every breeze that makes its way down the avenue. And I am as happy as a zombie in body parts. I cannot believe I am doing this.

The crew keeps us hydrated and keeps us fed at lunch and I am marveling at the professionalism and the precision of the crew. I am an award-winning IT leader, and I appreciate excellent project management more than most. And I have to keep my head on a swivel, else I get run over by crew persons schlepping expensive equipment to and fro.

Between takes, I sidle up next to Purple Suit Zombie, who I later learn is makeup guy Joe Giles. Joe and I speak for several minutes, and he is marveling at the capabilities of one of the actors – a young and very pretty young woman who, in real life, only has part of one of her arms. She has crawled under the tank over and over again to chase Andrew Lincoln, and she has been an absolute trooper. Joe is especially impressed with her resolve. She makes the final cut of the pilot splendidly, snarling at Lincoln as she tries to eat him under the tank.

I also get to know the guy in the aqua cap better. He is a really, really good guy and we enjoy talking together.

Really? The bloody bag of guns cannot hit its mark! Say your lines, hit your marks, right? We have to redo a couple of shots because the bloody gun bag misses its mark.

Now it is much later in the day – about 7:00 PM or so, Sunday evening – and we are still filming. I know enough to realize we have to hurry or we’ll lose our light. The BIG SCENE is about to be filmed, you know what I am talking about.

The foam-rubber-and-wireframe horse is brought in. The American Humane Society people are still on set! I think, “Really? Really?” They soon leave. A PA positions me at the ass-end of the foam-rubber horse with cables coming out of its rear end. But the cables are not hooked up, because the horse’s head-bobbing and acting has rendered the pneumatic or electrical or whatever-it-is animatronics unnecessary.

This horse will wind up saving my life.

Suddenly, Darabont appears and starts telling us what to do. I am thinking, “My God, I am being directed by Frank Darabont!” However, I am in a mask, and a close-up is required. Greg Nicotero comes up beside Darabont and starts pulling people out of the shot who are without makeup, or persons wearing masks.

I look up and say, “Greg, do you need me out of the shot?”

He looks at me and, without hesitation, points to me as he says, “No, because I know how important this is to you. But keep your head up, because if I see the elastic, I will give you s—t.”

I decide then and there I will fall on a grenade for Greg Nicotero. I will take any bullet of any caliber, anywhere on my person. He remembered the conversation Jack had with him. He knew I was the guy. I am grateful beyond words.

Next up is the Money Shot, what we all have waited for! We are going to eat a horse! The horse has a flap. Nicotero appears with a bucket of stage blood and fake horse innards. He coats the innards with stage blood and stuffs the whole enchilada into the horse’s stomach flap.

Nicotero slathers my arms and hands with stage blood. A makeup person paints blood on my mask.

I am in Heaven. Zombie Heaven.

“And, Action!”


Now is the Zombie Mosh Pit. That is the shot where the camera will pull up and reveal the entire scene. The first take, I am on one knee, and the sheer wave of humanity catches me off-guard. I cannot move my right leg, and I am fearful that my back will break. I push back with everything I have and am the most grateful person on the set when Darabont yells cut.

We get that damn horse real good. A few more close-ups and takes, and that shot is done. For the record, I kept my head up. And I made the final cut, as you can see in the photo above.

I reposition my body so I am on both knees. We do about eight takes, and each time, I am using that foam horse to absorb all the weight of roughly ten people on my back. I love that horse.

Now we are wrapped, and we all pose for a photo with Darabont and Robert Kirkman. I am in the back, and all that can be seen of me is a bloody arm. However, several of my zombie friends did make the photo, including Gary Whitta and Tim Daniel to the immediate left of Kirkman, and actors Melissa Cowan, Sonya Thompson, Michelle Flanagan-Helmeczy and Jack Byrd (far right) to the right of Darabont. And my upraised left arm, between Kirkman and Darabont.

The actors are scattering toward the holding area, but I see Kirkman is alone in the middle of the street. I walk up and tell him how much I appreciate his work on the comics and how he writes with the eyes of a person much older then he actually is. He is genuinely grateful.

A handful of us are about ten feet from Darabont. Frank turns and says to us, “It was an honor to work with you.”

I looked right at him and said, “No, Mr. Darabont. The honor was all ours!” Darabont stands at attention and bows his head slightly, in appreciation. No wonder this guy is one of the best directors of our time. We would do anything for this guy!

We all have our gear and we are walking back to the dead restaurant staging area. We stop at a city square/park where there is a horse-drawn carriage. One of the female actors (I think it was Sonya Thompson) says, “Horrrrsssse.” The horse looks at us and moves uncertainly. I envision a runaway horse and carriage, chased by zombie extras. Blessedly, it does not occur. We’re all too tired.

It is time to change back into street clothing. The men are all changing in rooms on the mezzanine, and I run into the guy in the aqua ball cap. I say, “You know, we have been talking all weekend, and I do not know your name. Scott McPherson.” The guy smiles and says, “Tim Daniel. “

“Tim, we need to stay in touch. You are a great guy.”

“Yes, that would be great!”

My deep appreciation for Greg Nicotero was confirmed as the zombie actors, about 150 of us, all lined up to turn in our wardrobe. It’s about 8PM now, and I have a six-hour drive ahead of me. But I am not tired in the least. I am wondering what will happen when I stop for dinner on I-75 with my neck and arms looking like all the blood has pooled up in them. Then I notice Nicotero at the head of the line, shaking everyone's hand and thanking them personally for their work.

He stops at me and we talk, about what I have no clue because I am essentially speechless. But I am wearing a Bubba Ho-Tep T-shirt, and then I remember he was the effects guy for Coscarelli’s picture. I am sure he appreciated that.

When we were all in the wardrobe line, we hear a commotion coming from the street. We turn and see a small rental car, one of those ridiculously small subcompact cars. A large man in a Hawaiian shirt is driving and literally leaning out of the car, yelling “Hey! Great job, guys, great job! Thank you so much!”

It is Frank Darabont. OK, I can take two grenades. Just no head shots, eh?

Speaking of head shots: I have to drive six hours straight back to Tallahassee. Now I am so jacked that fatigue will not be a problem. But eating will be! I am still in makeup! I resolve to only hit the drive-through and gas up quickly. Even then, the looks I got…..


Working on the Walking Dead was one of the four greatest experiences of my life. The other three include (IN ORDER) my marriage, the night I was elected to the Florida House of Representatives, and my one-hour flight in a P-51 Mustang (with twenty minutes of stick time).

The entire production crew was incredible, and they did a great job of feeding us, keeping us hydrated, and keeping us focused. Anyone who wants to work in project management should visit a movie or television set. The level of professionalism and dedication to excellence is an incredibly rewarding experience. I credit both Darabont and producer Gale Ann Hurd for that.

But by far, the greatest part of the experience was meeting great people and making friends with them. I have enduring friendships with some very talented Atlanta-based actors and actresses (do we still use that term?).

Sonya Thompson is a local actor and is a “hero zombie” in several episodes. Her personage is frequently used in promos for the series worldwide. Her daughter is also a zombie actor!


The face of The Walking Dead is Melissa Cowan, who is best known as “Bicycle Girl.” She, like Sonya and Larry, is red-hot on the comic convention circuit. She gets her own action figure soon!


Larry Mainland has appeared in several episodes, and, like Sonya and Melissa, appears frequently at horror and comic book conventions. That iconic photo of a zombified Larry getting out of a car in season one is one of the most tragic images from the show.


Steve Warren got a Hero Zombie’s death in episode 201, at the hands of Rick and his machete in the church scene. Steve recently moved to Sarasota, Florida, whereupon he sent me a message: "Moving to Florida to cancel out your vote!" I roared with laughter. Steve is a great guy.


So is Jack Byrd, who has had several appearances in different episodes. He’s climbed the tank; chased Glenn as he went for the bag ‘o’ guns; and got it in the eye from Shane in the aforementioned church scene.

Jack also had the distinction of being the "permanent guest": on AMC's phenomenal Talking Dead talk show! He was the mural that appeared frequently during cuts between Chris Hardwick and the guests. His picture was replaced by Madison Linz's zombie Sophia after the break. Heady company!


Ondie Daniel and Pamela Ashe-Smith were the first to befriend me on the set, are great actors and are great people as well. Ondie also does makeup and directs side projects.


Pamela also volunteers for the Urban Mediamakers Association and Film Festival. She is one great lady.

PLUG: Many of these people are connected with “Netherworld,” Atlanta’s haunted house. A secret: Zombieland, The Crazies and The Walking Dead all mined Netherworld for actors, makeup and effects people, and other experts. No wonder, then, that Netherworld is America’s Spookiest Haunt.



Michelle Flanagan-Helmeczy (pictured here with Charlie Adlard) has appeared in numerous episodes in Seasons One and Two. She is also pretty much guaranteed to work in Season Three, since she lives five minutes from the set! Lucky girl! She also spotted me in a photo that I somehow missed. She is great.




Last and absolutely not least, I have become fast friends with another extremely talented fellow named Tim Daniel, who has many duties with Image Comics and Skybound Entertainment. But that is not his day job! He is Webmaster for the University of Montana. He is involved in design work on several projects, perhaps the best-known being the smash Image Comic series named Morning Glories, and he is the author of the Walking Dead Survivors Guide.



Tim’s greatest days clearly lie ahead as a creator and writer of comics. Tim, along with Moroccan artist Mehdi Cheggour, have created the graphic novella Enormous. Enormous deals with a post-apocalyptic Phoenix, Arizona, and giant mutated creatures called The Enormous.

But even in an environment such as that in Enormous, the most dangerous creature is Man. And in this case, that villain is James Coyle. And Tim has cast me as a comic book villain!





Life is good, folks.


Diary of a Walking Dead Zombie, Part Two: Day One.

Day One:  Chasing Lincoln, making friends

The first thing I learned was BE VERY EARLY.  I had a 7AM call time the first day, and I made sure I was there five minutes early.  I had gotten up around 5AM, showered and shaved, and found a diner about a half-block from my hotel.  Luck shone upon me – the food was excellent and the service was quick. 

The staging area was an abandoned downtown restaurant and watering hole.  From the strategically positioned location, two fancy bars, and a mezzanine – I figured this place must have been “The” establishment for the rich and powerful.  The location also is a metaphor of sorts.  Death, after all, is the central theme, and this restaurant was now… dead.

I walked inside and walked up a set of marble steps to the foyer.  I was motioned to a table and checked in.  I was given some paperwork which, I was told, was essential to get paid.

Get paid?  I thought.  I never thought about that!  I would gladly pay them to be there!

I first met Patrick, who had called me with the good news about my casting.  He instructed me  to go up the main staircase to the mezzanine area, which was the holding pen for all the extras.  I had read both the email and the casting company’s Facebook site regarding first-time extras.  So I had packed a small canvas bag with what I thought I needed:  A book, a change of clothes, a snack, and of course I brought my Vol. 1 trade paperback of The Walking Dead.  I wanted to compare the book with what I was going to experience.

I took the staircase and saw about sixty or seventy people, all sitting around huge tables, reading, sleeping, listening to music, or just otherwise keeping occupied.  I realized then that I did not know a single soul – plus, I had to keep my eyes open for my patron, a member of the crew who I had never met.  After about twenty minutes, I saw my contact, who called over a PA, or Production Assistant.  He was young, tall, muscular, and African-American, with long dreads.  His name was Dorado, and he was from New Orleans.  

Dorado whisked me downstairs and into an area near one of the two bars.  It was the makeup area, and Dorado said have a seat and wait to be called.  I found out some of the people in front of me had 6:00 AM call times. Looking at the line of people, it dawned upon me that call times are fiction, if you are an extra.  The earlier you get there, the more likely you are to actually get opportunities.  The early bird truly gets the worm 

I sat down near a cluster of guys who were talking.  One of them was a Brit with long brown hair.  I knew that the comic’s artist, Charlie Adlard, was British, but could this be my good fortune to be sitting near the artist for the Walking Dead?  He was talking to a guy in an aqua baseball cap.  Suddenly, the guy in the ball cap pulled out a hardcover copy of the graphic novel.  The brown-headed guy promptly pulled out a Sharpie and started drawing and inscribing the book’s inside cover.

Yes, it was Adlard, all right.  I was ecstatic.  Nerdgasm.

Slowly, as the line snaked around and extras played musical chairs, I finally spoke up.  The group I was sitting with was about as distinguished as you can get.  Charlie Adlard.  Gary Whitta, who had just scored fame with The Book of Eli, for which he wrote the story and screenplay.  And a fella named Tim, who will figure much more prominently later.

Gary told me of all the cool Easter Eggs in The Book of Eli, mostly centering around the poster and prop for A Boy and His Dog.  The poster can be seen when Mila Kunis brings Denzel his dinner.  The prop:  The sniper rifle used in the street scene.  In exchange, I told Gary and the group how intricately Marvel had laced clues in the Fury-Stark scene toward the end of Iron Man 2.  I told them how I had actually commandeered an IMAX theatre and had used it as my personal remote and freeze-framed the screen throughout the scene.  Look yourself for the illuminated spots representing Wakunda, the middle of the South Atlantic, New Mexico, Norway, Southern California, two spots in New York, and the Arctic Circle in the North Atlantic.  Then notice that the North Atlantic dot starts blinking.  Note the live-action shots of the Hulk rampaging on a Virginia college campus, which are the actual scenes from the Ed Norton Hulk movie, as well as the gamma-ray detector panel -- all in reverse.

But I digress. Everyone was duly impressed, and Whitta shook his head at the intricacy of the clues. I became an ex-officio member of the group.

It took me about a half-hour in makeup.  The plan was never to actually be in makeup, but to be a “background zombie” in the rear of the crowd scenes.  I was perfectly fine with that!  I was just happy to be there!  However, my contact in the crew enabled me to get into the makeup line.  This was the “hero zombie” makeup line!  Hero zombies are the zombies you see in the foreground.  Blood.  Bites.  Torn flesh.  You know, the cool zombies. 

Just before my turn in the chair, though, another PA (production assistant) put me in the “mask” line.  Time was a-wastin’, and they needed to move people into the quicker line to try and make the day’s shooting schedule.  That meant I was issued a mask and had a lot of makeup applied to my eyes and other makeup sprayed on my head, neck, arms and hands.  The sprayed-on makeup had to be applied outside the building.  The person sprayed different color liquids on my arms and hands.  By the time he was done, it appeared all the blood had pooled into my hands and fingers.

The way it worked out was awesome!  The mask I quickly figured out how to form a vacuum between the mask and my face, pressing out the air and creating a fit that made the mask look like it had been molded from my own face!  I honestly did not mind the lack of prosthetic makeup.  I was just happy to be there.  It actually worked out better for me, when we took breaks in the 100-degree heat, and when we ate lunch.

When I came back inside, Whitta, Adlard, and the guy in the hat were gone. 

Shortly afterward, we gathered up our gear and moved to another building just down the block from the outdoor set.  It appeared to have been a dance studio, as full-length mirrors adorned most of the walls.  I should note that pretty much the entire area looked run-down, which was a real shame. The location scouts really outdid themselves, as they have all series long.

I notice an extra, a Hero Zombie.  He is dressed in mechanic’s coveralls.  He is reading Max Brooks’ Zombie Survival Guide.  Finding his motivation.

There is a lot of waiting on a movie/television production.  What interested me is the way many of these veteran extras had adapted to the “hurry up and wait” realities of the industry.  Many had crafted special backpacks and assorted gear.  I soon developed a speaking relationship with two of the extras:  Ondie Daniel and Pamela Ashe-Smith.  Shortly afterward, I met another extra.   Jack Byrd, whose age was closest to my own,  had retired from the Georgia Department of Child Protective Services.  While on the set, he pointed to the building at the corner of the street where we first chased Andrew Lincoln.  “I worked there for twenty years,” Jack said.  

Jack and I got pretty close while working that weekend.  He was a masked zombie on Saturday, like me, and we sat together frequently when not chasing Lincoln.  During lunch, I told him the entire chronology of the comics, and I noted the presence on set of Greg Nicotero, the famed makeup effects maestro.  “Greg Nicotero is the best in the world at what he does,” I explained.

A few of the younger extras were familiar with the comics.  We all had fun discussing the books, the show, and when we would see Michonne. Speaking of Michonne:  One of the extras was a dead ringer for Michonne.  I met her on Day Two.  I tried to show Charlie Adlard, but he was elsewhere on the set. 

Frequently, though, one of the extras would ask me who I was.  “I did not see you in Zombie School,” they would say.  “So how did you get here?”

Zombie School is the usually-mandatory training academy for zombies.  If you own the Walking Dead Season One Blu-Ray or DVD box set, you can run the feature.  Or you can see it online.  I did not attend Zombie School, but I had practiced extensively, and I had mastered several different shambles.

I would respond like this:  “I CLEPed out of Zombie School!”  Or: “I have been attending Zombie School my entire life!”

The first day’s filming largely consisted of us chasing Andrew Lincoln (“Rick Grimes”), his riding double and stunt horse, from various camera angles and directions.  Frank Darabont, the pilot episode’s director and first-season “showrunner,” sat in the “video village,” a bank of computers and monitors, grouped under a couple of tents like the ones seen when tailgating at a football game. 

We always knew when we had a great “take,” because we would all hear Darabont yell, “CUT!” and then laugh maniacally. We heard a lot of maniacal laughter those two days.

I caught up with Whitta and Adlard on the set.  Both were made up splendidly, with superb prosthetic makeup. Whitta was adorned in pajamas, bathrobe and slippers, while Adlard looked as if he had just been someone’s lunch.  Charlie and I had been talking just before we were separated, and I thought I would finish the conversation. 

“As I was saying,” I said to Adlard, walking up to him.

His eyes grew wide.  “BLOODY HELL!” he exclaimed.  I guess I looked great!

By the way, in the photo above, Charlie is attacking Robert Kirkman, undoubtedly regarding getting scripts late.  In the background and to the right are Tim Daniel (with the aqua ball cap), Steve Warren, the back of Michelle Flanagan-Helmeczy's head, and Gary Whitta (extreme right, in pajamas and robe).

That night, I went back to the hotel, showered off the makeup, and hit the diner – again.  I needed a good night’s sleep, because I had a 6:30 AM call time, and there was no way I was going to be late!


TOMORROW:  Day Two, or I could eat a horse.

Diary of a Walking Dead Zombie, Part One (of Three)

Faithful blog reader:

As you may recall, I was fortunate enough to have been a zombie extra for the pilot episode of AMC Network's The Walking Dead. 

I have wanted to tell about my experiences, because I had so much fun, but also, with the Dead Week upon us (defined as the celebration of Issue #100 of the comic book, plus the coming of San Diego Comic-Con).  So here, in three parts, is my Diary of a Zombie:  My Experiences as a Zombie on the Set of The Walking Dead.  Parts One and Two will run Thursday, July 12th.  Part three will run Friday, July 13th (get it?  Friday the 13th!). 


To say that I am a fan of the zombie genre is to say that the Grand Canyon is a pretty rock formation.  I am a massive zombie fan.  As far back as I can recall, the idea of the undead walking has had a great allure to me. I never liked those early, 1940s-era zombie films, though.  White Zombie and the others, with their voodoo mystique, really did not do it for me.

What did do it for me was a 1950’s film, Creature With the Atom Brain.  It had Richard Denning.  It had a Nazi mad scientist in a cool lab.  It had gangsters.  It had dead cops walking!  It had everything a kid with a fertile imagination would want. 

But, as so many others have said over the years, the reinvention of the zombie mythos, served up ghoulishly by George A. Romero, was the coup de grace.  I actually saw Dawn of the Dead before I saw Night of the Living Dead.  I was in Connecticut with my then-girlfriend, and Dawn had just come out.  I became a Romero fan right then and there, for life.

I had the great good fortune to meet Mr. Romero, back in the late 1970s, at Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton.  He was brought in to lecture and after the event was over, I introduced myself and asked him, among other things, why his protagonists were always black men.  I was fascinated and impressed that Romero would cast such good young black actors in those pivotal roles.  He shrugged and said, essentially, that he had no answer.  I respected that, and I know his answer to that question today is much more thought-out and refined, and countless articles and blogs have been written about that question.  I still like his personal response to me the best. 

Zombie fans will go to great lengths to find material to watch and read.  We are a very forgiving lot, and we will sit through absolute drivel to try and find diamonds in the rough.  And those diamonds are rare:  Shock Waves, filmed around Miami with underwater Nazi zombies; the Fulci Italian zombie movies, always enjoyable; and a few others.  But there have been quite a few stinkers too!  My video library is stocked with zombie cinema that did not quite make the cut.

I also used to collect comic books when I was a kid.  I had to sell off quite a collection when my family moved in 1970.  I tried to restart those collections twice in the 1980s, but it was not until I read Watchmen two years ago (in preparation for watching the movie) that I dove headfirst back into comics. 

And that was when I found The Walking Dead.  It truly was comics love at first sight.  “The zombie movie that never ends,” as creator and writer Robert Kirkman calls it.  I started reading where many people now begin their collections:  the Walking Dead Compendium, a gargantuan, 1100-page softcover behemoth covering the first (and most pivotal) 48 issues of the comic.

It was brilliant.  It was a revelation. And, like all great zombie fiction (whether written or filmed), it is all about the survivors – not the zombies – that makes great zombie entertainment.  And Kirkman makes us care about survivors like no other.  He makes us like them, and then he kills them!

Shortly afterward, I learned of the planned adaptation of the comic books to television. 

And so it was that, one morning in May of 2010, my deputy CIO, Lauren Perlman, came into my office at the House of Representatives. 

“A good friend of mine just got hired as an important member of the crew for a new series AMC was shooting,” she said.  “Something called: ‘ The Walking Dead’.”

“THE WALKING DEAD?!?!?!”  I shouted.  “THE WALKING DEAD?”   I said, “Lauren, I have got to be a zombie on that show!” 

Roughly two weeks later, I got a call from Patrick of Extras Casting Atlanta, the go-to casting agency for television and film production in Georgia.  Think Zombieland.  The Crazies.  X-Men: First Class.  And The Walking Dead.  Patrick called to get my email address so they could forward the information on where to report for sign-in, along with my date and “call time” when I was due on the set. My shoot was for the weekend of June 12th and 13th, 2010.  That was perfect, as it did not interfere with my day job as CIO (that’s head geek) for the Florida House of Representatives. 

As you might imagine, Lauren is now set for life. 

I had never been in a movie before.  My filmmaking experience was confined to watching the filming of a scene for the Chuck Norris film Invasion USA back in the 1980s.  However, because of my different positions over the years in my “day jobs” within politics and government, most recently as an expert in pandemic preparedness (imagine that), I have appeared on television roughly a hundred times.  I have been on NBC News, CNN, Fox News, CBS News, ABC News, and way too many local newscasts to even try to count.  That gave me an appreciation for what I was about to do.

So I entered the situation with a completely blank canvas upon which to paint my recollections and to learn and absorb as much as I could during the two days I was there.

I decided to rent a hotel room as physically close to the shoot as possible.  Even before the casting company had sent my confirming email with map, I had been able to scope out the details of the shoot on the Internet.  I chose the closest hotel to the shoot itself – well, the closest hotel that was not going to cost me an arm and a leg (har!).  That hotel wound up being two blocks from the set as the crow flew, but with the street closures, it still took me about 5 minutes to drive there. 

I arrived in Atlanta that Friday night.  The drive was problematic, as I ran over a shredded recap tread going northbound on I-75, about an hour south of Atlanta.  After pulling off the interstate to inspect the situation, I kept going and pulled into a Truett’s parking lot in the southern suburbs of Atlanta to eat and to make repairs.  The plastic shield underneath the oil pan had been knocked almost completely loose, hanging by a grommet.  Also, one of my fog lights had been pushed in about an inch, but was still functional.  I made emergency repairs, ate at Truett’s (Chick fil-A’s fancier sibling), and pushed onward.

After checking into the hotel, I decided to take a walk.  I got as far as a burned-out bus, guarded by two policemen.  My anticipation grew.  Only my fatigue from the six-hour drive enabled me to sleep that night.