Jon Voight, Ronny Cox, Ned Beatty and Burt Reynolds
Being a part of the Facebook universe is both a curse and a blessing. If you enjoy the millions of mundane, nonsensical postings of friends and pseudo friends that populate the feed every day, then you are among those who cannot live without sharing the minutiae of their lives with the world. If you are like me… someone who uses Facebook as a marketing tool… you find the constant barrage of reminders, requests and repetitive ads for products I will never use an annoyance. The one feature I do appreciate is receiving a reminder when a Facebook friend is having a birthday. This has saved me many an embarrassing moment when work overload has caused me to forget that someone I care about is celebrating their special day.
The reminder I received on the morning of July 23, 2017 was just such an occasion. As the then Managing Director of the Burt Reynolds Institute for Film and Theatre, I had an opportunity to meet many famous people from the world of show business. In 2012, during the 40th anniversary festivities for Burt Reynolds’ highly regarded dramatic thriller Deliverance, I was privileged to shake hands with the entire cast: Burt Reynolds (he got a hug), Jon Voight, Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox. Ronny was a Facebook friend and the reminder I received was for his birthday.
After sending an online best wishes message, I plugged an old flash drive into my computer and searched for an article I had written about Ronny two years prior. Now, please understand… just because Ronny Cox is a Facebook friend and just because I met him through my relationship with Burt Reynolds does not mean he is my friend in the true sense of the word. We spoke for, maybe, five minutes at the Institute during that 2012 reunion. I did not expect him to remember me and rightly so. In the scheme of his life, I was just one of those people he shook hands with and thanked for being a fan. Nothing more.
And yet, when I sent him an email in 2015 requesting an interview, he graciously sent me his phone number and told me to “… call any time.” I did – immediately.
Here, again, Facebook played a part in what was about to happen. A real friend, who is also a Facebook friend, mentioned to me that she had seen a post on Ronny’s Facebook page about the return of the guitar he had played in Deliverance. I never knew it was missing so I thought it might make for an interesting story. And it was!
Ronny answered the phone on the second ring and, once pleasantries had been exchanged, I asked him about the guitar. He spoke in a rush of words quite the opposite of the soothing melodic voice I hear when listening to him sing. He was, at that moment, a storyteller excited to share his life with his audience. On that particular Friday afternoon, I was the only listener. He was in California; I was in Florida. We were connected by telephone wires. However, as Ronny spoke, I felt myself drawn across the miles. Somehow, I was sitting right beside him.
Now, before I go on with this story, I want say that I have had that feeling of being held captive by the manner in which someone speaks many times during my tenure at the Burt Reynolds Institute. Anyone who has listened to Burt Reynolds tell a story knows what is meant by an audience being “… held in the palm of a hand.” When Burt Reynolds spoke, even to a crowd of thousands, he had the ability to speak to each person individually. It was a gift and Ronny Cox had a similar talent.
In order to do Ronny’s story justice, we must travel back in time 52 years. Picture in your mind the scene from Deliverance where Ronny Cox is strumming a guitar opposite the young banjo player sitting on the porch. That is actually where this story begins.
The year is 1971 and struggling New York stage actor Cox has been cast in his first film role. Along with Burt Reynolds, Jon Voight and long-time friend Ned Beatty, he would bring author James Dickey’s novel to life on screen.
As most movie buffs know, Deliverance is the story of four Atlanta businessmen who decide to commune with nature by taking a canoe trip into extremely rural northern Georgia. All goes well until treacherous white water rapids drop them into the remote backwoods far from civilization as they know it. Upon meeting the locals, an uncomfortable tingling sends their nervous systems into overdrive. They grow suspicious and wary, quickly recognizing that in a world of predator and prey, they are the prey.
Ronny Cox was the first actor cast in the film. The fact that he played guitar may have had something to do with being offered the role. Director John Boorman chose Ronny to embody the mild-mannered Drew Ballinger, a sensitive man who was also an inexperienced outdoorsman. Both those qualities would prove to be Ballinger’s undoing. After days and nights fighting an unwelcoming wilderness and its inhabitants, Ballinger falls into the fictional Cahulawassee River and drowns. Luckily, as the fictional Ballinger was going under for the third time, Ronny’s star was rising. With total sincerity, he told me, “The movie changed my life in so many ways.”
In doing my research, I learned a little known but interesting fact about Ronny Cox. He has double jointed shoulders. When the body of Drew Ballinger is found near the end of the film, his arm is twisted around his neck in an unnatural manner. That scene was not written into the script. Ronny suggested the positioning to Boorman, which only confirmed for the director that he had, indeed, hired the right actor for the role.
Since the successful release of Deliverance, Ronny Cox has appeared in a wide variety of productions, including Beverly Hills Cop, Total Recall, Taps, Bound For Glory and The Onion Field on the big screen and Apple’s Way on television. He rounds out his resume as an extremely talented musician… a singer/songwriter with numerous CDs under his recording belt. Although he loves acting, music speaks to his soul. He brings a warm feeling of intimacy to his concerts, never shutting himself off from the audience but rather embracing them and including them in his performance.
Ronny is not a man who demands to stand center stage alone. He prefers to share the light and the love with his fans around the world. His concert schedule is heavy with travel dates and, as a result, he rarely performs in his home state of California.
Cue the last two bars of Dueling Banjos.
William Shakespeare said, “The wheel has come full circle.” Thanks to a genuine act of kindness during a rare hometown concert, Ronny came to understand the truth behind old Will’s words. For you, the reader, to appreciate their meaning, we must once again go back in time.
Sean Dillon was eight years old when Deliverance was released. He estimated that another 10 years passed before he actually saw the film. By then, the shock value was gone. He knew the story and had heard descriptions of the rape scene many times. It was not the controversy surrounding the film that caused him to finally watch it on television but rather an interest in the folklore and the ethical dilemma faced by the characters. He was impressed by their ability to harness the depth of courage they needed to survive and fascinated by their ability to not only restrain but completely suppress any pangs of guilt they may have felt for their role in the death of other human beings.
As fate would have it, a few years after seeing Deliverance, Sean was making ends meet by working in the Vroman’s Bookstore across from the Pasadena Playhouse. When he heard the Playhouse was holding an auction, he decided to wander over during his lunch hour and see what items were being offered. I know this because Sean Dillon was also kind enough to speak to me by phone in response to an email request for an interview.
Much to Sean’s surprise, the guitar that Ronny had played in Deliverance was on display. Although the bid he placed was meager by some standards, it was enough to make him the new owner of an important piece of Hollywood history.
Over the next 25 years, Sean did a lot of traveling in pursuit of his dreams, sometimes taking the guitar with him and other times entrusting it to family members. He saw the guitar as an interesting piece of movie history which he would bring out to show his friend from time to time. He never actually played a tune on it because the guitar had suffered a broken neck during filming. By chance, Sean had gotten the guitar repaired just shortly before this story takes place.
When asked how the guitar came to be offered for the Playhouse fundraiser, Ronny told me he was performing there at the time and so was aware of their need for financial support. Since the guitar had been gathering dust in his house for about 16 years, he decided to give it to them. He did not realize the emotional impact giving the guitar away would have on him.
Sean Dillon gave little thought to why Ronny Cox had parted with the guitar although he did consider the donation an extremely generous and unselfish act. He never thought of the instrument in terms of monetary value, especially since it was inexpensive by comparison to other brands of guitar and not in perfect condition when he bought it.
Fast forward to September 2015. Sean is now an Associate Professor of Theatre Arts at the University of La Verne in La Verne, California. While surfing the net one day he learns that Ronny will be giving a concert with his son, John, at the Crown Book Store in Topanga Canyon. The wheel had nearly made a full revolution.
Sean and his wife attended the concert. They brought the guitar along in the hope that Ronny would autograph it for them. At the end of the performance, Sean approached the man of the hour and asked if he recognized what he proudly held in his hands. “Sure,” Ronny said, “that’s the guitar from Deliverance.”
A back and forth of conversation followed during which Ronny revealed the significance of the guitar in his life and his regret at having given it away. Much to Sean’s surprise, he asked to buy the guitar back from him, even offering to double whatever he had paid for it.
When I asked Sean if Deliverance was in some way responsible for his career choice, he was honest in saying, “No.” He admitted to being an amateur movie maker at a very young age; his 8mm camera never far from his reach. He also talked about teen angst… that feeling of not belonging so many teenagers experience… and how working in theater while in high school helped to give him confidence. For him, it was a natural transition to pursue a Bachelor of Arts in English and Theatre and a Master of Fine Arts in Directing — degrees which allowed him to share his experiences and talents with his students.
It was also quite natural for Sean to return the Deliverance guitar to its original owner without monetary compensation. To him, the guitar was an important part of both film and music history, but he did not have an emotional connection to it. To Ronny, however, it represented the first day of the rest of his life. Sean was happy to be the catalyst for the reunion.
Ronny Cox was kind enough to share some details of his life with me. Born into a family that loved music, he was calling square dances by the time he was 10 and began playing guitar, including Texas Swing, in his early teens. While attending Portales High School in New Mexico, Ronny sang with the school’s choral group which led to his being hired to sing backup on records for producer Norman Petty. He fondly recalled how Clovis, New Mexico, was a hot bed of recording during the late 1950s and early 1960s and how living just a few miles away allowed him to be around when Buddy Holly was cutting Peggy Sue and Jimmy Bowne and Buddy Knox recorded Party Doll just to name a few of the great recording artists of the time. With rock and roll gaining increasing popularity, he fronted his own band—Ron’s Rock Outs. In college, he fell in love with folk music, and it has been his mainstay ever since.
When queried, Ronny assured me that the Deliverance guitar held a place of honor in his home. Standing as a sentinel on one side of his living room hearth, it joined the guitar he played in Cop Rock, becoming a focal point in the room and his life.
Not only do guitars symbolize Ronny Cox’s deep love for music and storytelling, they also remind him of the many wonderful people he has been privileged to know during his amazing career. The Deliverance guitar, in particular, will forever remind him of how a simple, unselfish gesture can brighten the world and bring our lives full circle.
And full circle is where I was when writing the original story. I sat at a desk in the Burt Reynolds Institute’s then new home in North Palm Beach. On the walls around me, were posters and pictures from Burt Reynolds’ amazing 55 plus year career. Immediately to my left were two oil paintings from Deliverance as well as photographs of Burt, Jon, Ned and Ronny taken during filming.
I did the marketing for the Burt Reynolds Institute for many years. In 2012, I wrote the press release announcing the Deliverance reunion at the Burt Reynolds Museum. Today, I am once again writing about that film, and its effect on so many lives, including one of its stars, but I am no longer doing it from the Burt Reynolds Institute. Burt’s death in 2018 not only ended his life; it brought about the reorganization of his school which is now called the Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts (PBIEA). I have been its Executive Director and the wearer of all hats since January 2019.
Having an effect on many lives is what Burt Reynolds did since the moment his face appeared on screen in his cult hit, Smokey and the Bandit. I have spoken to thousands of his fans in person, by phone and letter over the years, and each one tells a similar story – Burt changed my life. Right up to the last moment, he was still changing lives by sharing his knowledge and talent with students in his master acting class. As amazing as Burt Reynolds, the actor, may have been, Burt Reynolds, the teacher, took his love for his chosen career to a whole new level. It was a privilege to be in his presence.
Shortly after the Deliverance reunion, the Burt Reynolds Museum closed to make way for new construction in Jupiter. The economy being on the downturn, we had difficulty finding a new home and, so, for a number of years, the memories that once graced those beautiful burgundy walls were in storage. Today, they are on display in strangers’ homes around the world, having been sold at auction by his estate. Those of us who were dedicated to securing Burt’s legacy for generations to come can only hope that the people who own them love Burt the way we did and always will. Whenever we do a show at PBIEA, I tell our audiences that… “Burt is always with us and watching from the best seats in the house.” Eyes cast to the heavens; I do believe that Burt is watching over us.
The Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts is located in the Village Shoppes of North Palm Beach. The address is 115 U.S. Highway One – North Palm Beach, Florida. Anyone interested in taking acting and/or writing classes should contact me at 561 743-9955. We still teach the way Burt taught us.
Please visit: pbinstituteforentertainmentarts.com