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A prominent member of daytime television's first generation of serials, The Edge of Night remains a standout among its peers. From the first episode to the last, a total of 7,420 daily installments, this innovative soap opera shunned traditional melodramatic themes in favor of crime, mystery, and courtroom litigation. For nearly three decades, the show's intensely loyal following clung to their sets each weekday, scrupulously tracking each new clue. Equally unorthodox, The Edge of Night was scheduled in a late-afternoon timeslot throughout most of its run, allowing for a substantial number of male and teenage viewers. In fact, its audience was consistently 50% male.

The soap began as a serialized extension of the radio drama Perry Mason. During the early 1950's, Proctor and Gamble had been considering a mystery serial to offset the dominance of early heroine-oriented soaps such as its own Search for Tomorrow, which featured the trials of a young widow; and Roy Winsor's Love of Life, a tale of good-sister-bad-sister rivalry (officially billed by narrator Charles Mountain as "The exciting story of Vanessa Dale and her courageous struggle for human dignity"). Immediately following the cancellation of Perry Mason in 1955, Proctor and Gamble bid for the television rights to the show, hoping to capitalize on its established reputation and proven popularity. When negotiations failed, the corporation hired the defunct program's writer, Irving Vendig, to create a daytime serial anchored by a crusading attorney. John Larkin, who had played Perry Mason on radio, was brought aboard as leading lawyer Mike Karr. Proctor and Gamble also contracted Benton and Bowles Incorporated, a long-time producer of soap operas, to package the program.

The Edge of Night premiered on CBS April 2, 1956, as did Proctor and Gamble's homespun soap As the World Turns. Both shows were the first major daytime dramas to air in half-hour episodes. Set in the fictitious Midwestern town of Monticello, modeled after Proctor and Gamble's homebase of Cincinnati, Vendig's creation was an immediate success, gathering an audience of over nine million by the end of the year. As the first in an unusually short succession of headwriters, Vendig proved himself a master of the serial format, introducing a variety of whodunit, action-oriented storylines. Due to this unrelenting atmosphere of suspense and danger, skillfully staged by principle director Don Wallace (who often perched characters on the roof of network studios) The Edge of Night resembled nothing else in daytime.

The show initially aired live at 4:30 p.m. E.S.T., where it faced little competition from other continuing dramas. The relative lateness of the hour, which enhanced The Edge of Night's foreboding nature, was appropriate to the program's hybrid presentation of crime and melodrama. Scheduled after its daytime counterparts, but before the evening hours, the soap served as a thematic transition between the domain of housewives and primetime detective anthologies. This sense of impending mystery was also reflected in the title sequence, which depicted a city skyline in the midst of nightfall against a rumbling piano score. In contrast, most soap opera music of the day featured soft strings and pipe organ melodies.

Throughout the 1960's, The Edge of Night remained immensely popular as Mike Karr, his colleagues, and extended family battled annual crime waves, each more jarring than the last. Among the first criminal arrivals of the new decade was Big Frank, a brutal serial strangler, whose deadly hands were cast in plaster to commemorate his service to the show. So captivated were viewers by the absorbing melodrama that many served as jurors during the show's frequent trials. Avid fans from across the country spent weeks as human props, without benefit of salary, for the opportunity to witness the action first-hand.

Further proof of the soap's hypnotic effect came on Washington's Birthday in 1961, when Mike Karr's wife was struck and killed by a hulking postwar Buick. Immediately following the tragic incident, CBS was deluged with a total of eight thousand phone calls, telegrams, and letters-all expressing outrage over the character's sudden demise. "Shakespeare himself did not create a more convincing cast of praiseworthy personalties," cried one mourning viewer. "What perversion of common decency prompted anyone to shatter such a team?" Although As the World Turns, which had speedily recovered from its slow start, was entrenched as the highest-rated soap, The Edge of Night had become a certified hit and would contribute significantly to CBS's dominance of daytime.

After a year of widowhood, Mike Karr married newspaper writer Nancy Pollack, played by Ann Flood, who would remain in the role for the run of the show. Her tenure of twenty-two years and eight months was the longest of any performer on The Edge of Night. The morally upright, venerated Karrs, in their respective professions as crime fighter and investigative reporter, added a welcome measure of continuity to the show. The mystery plots, which generally ended in imprisonment or death, necessitated frequent turnovers in cast. Villainous characters drifted through Monticello at regular intervals, made a quick impression with their wicked ways, then faded from sight. On the other hand, the Karrs, who enjoyed one of the most predictable marriages in all of daytime television, grounded the drama by providing a reliable reference point for viewers.

With the serial gaining momentum with each successive season, in 1963 CBS decided to move The Edge of Night to a more conventional timeslot, 3:30 p.m. E.S.T. Even still, it was the latest-scheduled daytime drama and continued to attract a unique combinations of younger viewers, housewives preparing dinner, and husbands home from early work shifts. The rescheduling actually bolstered the show's already-high ratings and sent its audience share soaring by nearly ten percentage points. Reportedly among the serial's early devotees contributing to this success were the likes of P.G. Wodehouse, Tallulah Bankhead, Cole Porter, and Bette Davis. Program officials must have been particularly pleased when they received an effusive fan letter from an elderly widow by the name of Eleanor Roosevelt.

By mid-decade, The Edge of Night was seemingly invincible. Ratings climbed steadily in the years from 1962 to 1965 as the show methodically devoured its competition. ABC attempted to counter-program with The Young Marrieds, a more contemporary Hollywood-based serial that focused on four turbulent marriages. Although the soap opera fared better than most ABC dramas of the time, the network shelved the project after a year and a half. Sexual themes, such as those presented on The Young Marrieds, began to pervade nearly all of daytime. The Edge of Night, however, literally stuck to its guns.

In 1966, Erwin Nicholson replaced Don Wallace as executive producer and worked to stylize the show's content. The first decade of the soap had stressed standard crime themes, reflecting its Mason-esque heritage. Nicholson moved the show away from these roots and toward off-beat, complex storylines reminiscent of Hitchcock and American detective films of the 1940's. To enact this transformation, he hired Edgar Award-winning mystery author Henry Slesar, who had written over sixty scripts for Alfred Hitchcock Presents, as headwriter.

In accordance with the serial's new direction, Slesar injected the melodrama with a spirit of humor and irreverence. The writer introduced a parade of colorful villains who concocted a variety of bizarre schemes. Consequently, Monticello lost some of its middle-American blandness, becoming a haven for eccentric criminal masterminds. Countering all this mayhem, counselor Adam Drake appeared as Mike Karr's law partner. Soon afterward, Slesar created the show's first full-fledged romance by pairing the lawyer with another new character, Nicole Travis. The courtship of Adam and Nicole was a viewer favorite, proving that romantic subplots could expand The Edge of Night's appeal. Slesar had struck a fine balance of presenting traditional soap opera staples within the show's larger framework of intrigue.

Original author Irving Vendig had severed his ties to the series prior to Slesar's arrival. Subsequent to his departure, Vendig developed Hidden Faces for NBC, which hoped to emulate the success of The Edge of Night with a mystery serial of its own. As expected, the show centered upon the professional dilemmas of an embattled criminal attorney. Initial ratings were abysmal, indicating that The Edge of Night provided enough action and suspense to satisfy most daytime viewers. Disappointed by the drama's poor showing, NBC canceled "Hidden Faces" after six months.

Meanwhile, The Edge of Night flourished under Slesar's tutelage. Since the late 1950's, a cluster of popular CBS soaps, whose ratings were nearly identical, had flirted with the coveted number-two spot, behind perennial workhorse As the World Turns. However, by 1969, The Edge of Night had distanced itself from the pack, experiencing its highest ratings ever. It would retain the distinction of second-most-watched daytime drama for the next two years and, of particular delight to Proctor and Gamble, succeed in making Tide the best-selling laundry detergent in the country.

Still seeking a program to withstand the 3:30 assault, ABC enlisted the expertise of Frank and Doris Hursley, whose 1963 creation General Hospital was the network's only sustaining soap opera. Their 1969 challenger, Bright Promise, bombarded viewers with nearly every social issue of the day, including student uprising, drug addiction, and sexual liberation. In fact, the Hursleys often referred to the show as "group therapy." Aside from the serial's Midwestern orientation, Bright Promise bore no similarity to The Edge of Night. Without question, the relevant drama was the quintessence of counter-programming. No matter-after less than three years of pursuit, it too became a casualty of the older series' continued prosperity.

In 1970, Slesar introduced The Edge of Night's version of the Kennedy's, the political Whitney family. Lois Kibbee played the unstable clan's snobbish matriarch, Geraldine Whitney, and would later become Slesar's assistant while continuing to appear in the role. Quirky characters continued to come and go, serving their time as criminals, or victims, or both. The show's stalwart principles (Mike and Nancy Karr, Adam and Nicole Drake, police chief Bill Marceau and his wife Martha) steered the drama through a stream of intricate mysteries courtesy of Slesar's plotting.

Problems arose in September of 1972, when CBS moved The Edge of Night to 2:30 E.S.T. in an attempt to create a block of popular Proctor and Gamble soaps amid the network's lower-rated offerings. The new strategy proved disastrous. The show's ominous "edge of night" milieu lost its significance, and late-afternoon viewers became unreachable. Complicating matters, competition on NBC and ABC made substantial inroads. Colgate-Palmolive's The Doctors, which was now positioned directly against The Edge of Night, periodically topped weekly Nielsen charts.

Adding to this sudden instability, Slesar began moonlighting as headwriter of NBC's ailing Somerset, which required immediate retooling. Thus, the writer's responsibilities were doubled at a critical stage when The Edge of Night demanded no less than his full attention. Lois Kibbee, whose portrayal of Geraldine Whitney had been surprisingly popular with viewers, departed in 1971. (Slesar created a similar role for the actress on "Somerset.") The confluence of these events became apparent by the end of the 1972-73 season, when The Edge of Night fell to tenth place out of the seventeen soap operas on the air.

Amidst its swift decline in popularity, the show garnered an Emmy Award for Outstanding Achievement in Daytime Drama in 1973. Perhaps coincidentally, Kibbee reprised her role that same year. Shortly afterward, Slesar also exited "Somerset" to concentrate exclusively on The Edge of Night. The ratings loss notwithstanding, the following year he became the first daytime serial writer to be awarded an Emmy.

These accolades aside, CBS thoroughly revamped its aging lineup. The Secret Storm, which now occupied The Edge of Night's former time slot, was canceled in early 1974. Panicked by a dip in its flagship's ratings, the network initiated plans to expand As the World Turns to an hour. With The Secret Storm and a handful of other, less significant soaps eliminated from the schedule, and with Love of Life staging a modest comeback, The Edge of Night became the lowest-rated CBS serial. In November of 1975, the network abruptly canceled the drama to make room for the hour-long version of As the World Turns.

Proctor and Gamble immediately offered the show to ABC, which wisely restored it to a later slot, 4:00 p.m. E.S.T. Without interruption, The Edge of Night premiered on ABC December 1st with an unprecedented ninety-minute special, becoming the first daytime television serial to switch networks. At ABC, the mature show was somewhat of an oddity. Its new carrier's daytime offerings placed a heavy emphasis on youth and social issues, topics that were never the focus of The Edge of Night. The serial also became the only sponsor-owned soap on ABC. Although Proctor and Gamble productions still reigned at CBS, all other ABC soap operas were property of the network. Furthermore, the average age of a CBS drama at the time of the transition was nineteen years; the average for an ABC show was only six.

The Edge of Night regained some of dramatic impact lost by the devastating 1972 time change, and ratings stabilized, but serial's days as a top-rated soap were over. Slesar's writing remained entertaining, and the show's quality remained consistent throughout the late 1970's. He was nominated for an Emmy Award in 1976, followed by nominations for Outstanding Daytime Drama Series and Outstanding Individual Director (John Sedwick) in 1977.

The program's most striking single episode, for which Sedwick received his nomination, aired November 11, 1976. The show depicted a Nancy Karr, under the gun by a ruthless blackmailer, preparing to flee Monticello. For the entire half-hour, Ann Flood and Forrest Compton (the third and final Mike Karr) were the only actors to appear on camera. The highly unusual and profoundly moving episode became one of the most recognized presentations in the history of daytime television. The Edge of Night was by far the lowest-rated serial to receive such acclaim. While other soap operas experienced their heydays, the serial appeared to be in decline.

Realizing the daytime audience had changed drastically since the program's infancy, Slesar and Nicholson implemented a series of unexpected changes in an attempt to reverse the slide. In the show's most controversial decision, Adam Drake, after a decade as a pivotal male character, was shot and killed. He was replaced by amiable Dr. Miles Cavanaugh, only the second physician ever featured on The Edge of Night-another rarity for daytime. As a personification of the show's theme, Dr. Cavanaugh was a forensic surgeon, well-practiced in the art of autopsy. Such portrayals, in which typical elements of the genre were modified to serve murderous plots, were indicative of Slesar's authorship. Whereas other soap opera M.D.'s removed brain tumors and cured amnesia, the white coats of The Edge of Night extracted slugs and matched dental charts.

A number of young heroines arrived in Monticello in order to attract younger viewers, who were flocking to the trendier of the ABC soaps such as General Hospital and All My Children. The most notable of these additions was actress Lori Laughlin, who was by far the youngest cast member, born nearly a decade after the show's premiere. Maeve McGuire, who had played Nicole Drake since 1968, left the role and was replaced by a younger actress. After twenty years as resident top cop Bill Marceau, Mandel Kramer, who began his career on radio, was released from the show in 1979.

Youth had exploded in daytime, and the conservative Proctor and Gamble serials, especially The Edge of Night, struggled to keep pace with the times. For the first time in its history, the soap was attempting to emulate, albeit ephemerally, its brethren. Confirming the movement toward twentysomething plotting, Slesar himself commented in the early 1980's, " I always look for contemporary stories about contemporary social phenomena involving young people."

To the program's credit, the older characters who remained still found themselves in the thick of the intrigue. In their efforts to contemporize, other older dramas, namely As The World Turns, relegated founding characters to a handful of appearance each year. However, on The Edge of Night, Forest Compton, Ann Flood, and Lois Kibbee continued to enjoy front-burner storylines. (Nearing fifty, Flood was the youngest of the three.)

Throughout this period of transition, the soap's mortality rate remained constant. During 1977, homicide, on average, became the most common killer of all daytime characters. A full one-third of these incidents, including attempted murders, occurred on The Edge of Night. Considering that the serial represented only 7% of the soap opera world's total population, the prevalence of homicide was even greater than the data suggests. Furthermore, there were 2.9 homicides per 100 soap opera residents in 1977 and 0.009 real-life homicides per 100 individuals living in the United States. Assuming the same number of people (100) appeared on The Edge of Night that same year, there would have been twelve homicides per 100 characters-four times the industry average and more than 1,000 times the national average.

The serial continued its long tradition of crime as the 1980's approached, but its late-afternoon timeslot was now a hindrance. Affiliates began dropping The Edge of Night at an alarming rate, choosing to air more profitable local or syndicated programming in its place. A number of hour-long talk programs, aimed at an afternoon audience, became available. Premiering in the Fall of 1980 alone were Hour Magazine, The John Davidson Show, and The Toni Tennille Show. Frequently, these nationally distributed offerings were scheduled between 4:00 and 5:00 p.m. E.S.T., where network programming was most sparse.

Many of the affiliates that continued to air The Edge of Night moved the show to less-desirable morning slots, often within the local access block following Good Morning America. City-by-city ratings remained respectable; The Edge of Night often held second in its timeslot. However, the reduced station clearance prevented the show from attracting a substantial national audience. Although many of the syndicated efforts that replaced The Edge of Night quickly vanished, the soap's meager overall rating discouraged former outlets from re-signing.

Following the mass defection of affiliates, The Edge of Night's production budget began to shrink and its cast was trimmed-all in an attempt to remain profitable. Due to the demise of Love of Life, the soap fell to the bottom of the Nielsen charts. As it became apparent that neither the staid marital bliss of the Karrs (who still slept in twin beds!) nor patented crime stories could keep the show afloat in the 1980's, Slesar created the last of his most memorable characters. Geraldine Whitney's debonair nephew Schuyler came to town and quickly tamed the spirited Raven Alexander. The soap's new centerpiece, reminiscent of Nick and Nora Charles, embarked on slew of detective adventures. With the sophisticated (and younger) Whitneys seizing screen time from the Karrs, the familiar crusade for law and order now shared the spotlight with international crimes. Whereas as a trip to the local courthouse once settled all affairs, characters could now be seen jaunting off to Washington to consult the CIA.

Ironically, as The Edge of Night scrambled to escape the rating's cellar, nighttime serials rocketed to popularity. Lorimar's Dallas and its principle imitator Dynasty captured enormous audiences with seasonal calamities, highlighted by extreme cases of physical jeopardy. During their formative years, these weekly dramas were more akin to The Edge of Night than any other daytime soap. Concerning the serialization of primetime, Jack Crain, director of television programming for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, which imported most American serials, explained: "Shrewd producers took elements of The Edge of Night, speeded [sic] up the action, added substantially better production values and put them [serials] on in the evening." Echoing these sentiments, People Magazine once characterized The Edge of Night as "a cops-and-robbers Dallas without the lust and lip gloss." (Appropriate to the comparison, Larry Hagman played a police lieutenant on The Edge of Night during the 1960's.)

Meanwhile, in the slums of soapdom, Slesar's latest strategy succeeded in maintaining, if not improving, ratings. While the show received this tepid reprieve, a number of NBC soaps experienced significant declines in popularity. Due to the plummeting ratings of these other programs, the drama's overall standing among the other soaps improved for the first time since 1968. As the 1981-82 season ended, Another World, Texas, Search for Tomorrow (now on NBC), and The Doctors all posted ratings below those of The Edge of Night. In another bright spot, the soap again received Emmy nominations for direction and writing. The dramatic ratings success of other ABC soap operas played a key role in The Edge of Night's survival at this time of dwindling exposure.

By 1982, ABC controlled more than half of all daytime network advertising revenue. The network's average daytime share of 18-to-49-year-old females had grown considerably, such that it was greater than that of CBS and NBC combined. Thus, programs airing directly opposite powerhouses such as "All My Children" and "General Hospital" saw their shares of this valuable demographic shrink. As a result, some dramas, which were pitted against ABC's strongest performers, actually earned less revenue per unit of time sold than The Edge of Night, even though their overall ratings were higher. For example, a thirty-second spot on the serial in the second quarter of 1982 cost $15,000, compared to $9,500 on Capital (CBS) and $9,800 on Days of Our Lives (NBC) for the same spot. Perhaps even more paradoxical, The Edge of Night finished first in its timeslot, consistently outdrawing the other networks.

In terms of profitability to the network, The Edge of Night was less attractive than advertising rates might imply. Since the show was owned by Proctor and Gamble and merely "leased" to ABC, the company received a substantial discount on commercial spots. Therefore, the standard fee of $15,000 applied only to outside sponsors, which, by order of contract, could purchase no more than one-half of available air time.

As the seasons passed, the serial inevitably lost ground. Texas and The Doctors were canceled at the end of 1982, reducing The Edge of Night's safety padding. (Both soaps were low-rated and sponsor-owned-a terminal combination.) Even worse, its Nielsen ratings fell to a 3.8, representing a loss of nearly a million households from the previous year; the single greatest drop in the show's history. Program officials immediately ordered a fresh approach to crime fighting. In a final attempt to spark a resurgence of the drama's popularity, Proctor and Gamble decided to replace Slesar, who had been scripting The Edge of Night for the last fifteen years, the longest continuous term of any headwriter in daytime.

In May of 1983, Lee Sheldon succeeded Slesar as headwriter. Sheldon was an award-winning mystery writer and had written for episodic dramas such as Charlie's Angels and Quincy, but was a newcomer to daytime serials. Proctor and Gamble, as well as ABC, instructed Sheldon to update the show's style, providing more physical action and (of course) concentration on youth. The soap's writing staff, which had always been undersized with respect to that of other serials, was finally expanded to include Sheldon, Kibbee, and three new associates-still small by comparison, even for a half-hour program. In rapid succession, the storylines that lingered from Slesar's regime quickly concluded as Sheldon began implementing The Edge of Night's new agenda.

Long-time heroine Nicole Drake, who had barely aged since 1968 due to periodic cast changes, was killed by poisoned cosmetics while delivering a newscast. Schuyler and Raven left the intelligence circuit, lost their fortune, and became private detectives in order to make ends meet. The serial's nostalgic logo was digitally morphed into a geometric montage of action sequences. Perhaps most shocking of all, Mike and Nancy Karr saw fit to purchase a double bed after twenty-two years of marriage.

Murders began to occur on a weekly basis as evil genius Louis Van Dine attempted to subdue the town through subliminal perception. This storyline, which built gradually over the summer, allowed Sheldon to introduce a cache of his own characters, who were every bit as bizarre as those of his predecessor. Somewhat contrived, but often fascinating, the involved plot relied heavily on science fiction and quasi-psychiatrics. Long-term viewers undoubtedly found it disturbing time-honored characters such as the Karrs and Geraldine Whitney (Kibbee now held the show's highest TV-Q rating) were targeted for "termination." All this turmoil led Mike Karr to conclude, "George Orwell's 1984 may have finally come at last!" The ratings generated by the story, which culminated during November sweeps, were hardly impressive, but sufficient for renewal.

By the new year, the show had gotten back to basics. Sheldon adjusted successfully to the rhythm of serial plotting and created a series of interlocking stories. Mike Karr became district attorney and vowed (again) to rid Monticello of organized crime. Reflecting the importance of post-teen characters as well as the necessity of a healthy body count, a mob hit man began methodically exterminating college students, whose bodies were exhumed by Nancy. The Whitneys, having regained their affluence, became involved in a mystery rooted in ancient Indian burial grounds. Sheldon delivered on his promise of physical action, which, more often than not, was synonymous with murder.

In its final year, the thriller of daytime weathered six homicides, no less than eight attempted homicides (many with multiple targets), five self-defense killings, and one case of a police officer killed in the line of duty. "No one knows who may become the next victim on this series," Nicholson once said. "Anyone may turn out to be the corpse or the culprit. No one is safe." As The Edge of Night soldiered on, everything had changed, and nothing had changed.

Despite the continuous crime wave, a number of external factors conspired to minimize ratings at a time when the serial could least afford it. During the first six month of 1984, General Hospital, which served as its lead-in on ABC, lost over four million viewers. More affiliates dropped away, such that only 62% of TV households could still access The Edge of Night. ABC's coverage of the Summer Olympics preempted the serial for two weeks, interrupting a series of climactic episodes shot on location in Mexico.

The end was already in sight by November, when ABC officially announced the show's cancellation. The Edge of Night had finished out the year with a 2.8 rating, ranking twenty-third out of twenty-six daytime programs and last among all soap operas. Proctor and Gamble hoped the serial would be given a second life in syndication and suggested that storylines conclude on a mysterious note, perhaps pointing to future developments. On December 28, 1984, Sheldon's original villain, calculating Louis Van Dine, resurfaced moments before the final fade out. To date, that screen is still black.

Frances Nonenmacher, president of The Edge of Night International Fan Club, spoke on behalf of her 1,768 constituents shortly following the cancellation. "We're going out with our heads held high," she promised. "This will be the daytime drama that people won't forget."