While performing in Denver, Van Ark met actress Julie Harris while interviewing her for a local newspaper, and the actress persuaded her to study acting and drama at the Yale Drama School.
As a result, Van Ark became the youngest student ever to receive a scholarship to the well-respected school and the second woman ever to enroll. The first woman was Julie Harris, who helped Van Ark into the school.
“She wrote to the dean and asked him to meet me. Long story short, my parents drove me to New Haven, Connecticut, to meet the dean, who gave me a scholarship,” she recalled.” It was meant to be.”
Valene Ewing on ‘Dallas’ and ‘Knots Landing’
Van Ark began her professional career at the Minneapolis Guthrie Theater, where she starred in The Miser by Moliere. After working about a year at the Arena Stage in Washington DC, she moved down to work with the national touring company Barefoot in the Park in 1963, which led to her Broadway debut. In 1971, she was nominated for the Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Play after starring in The School for Wives.
At that point, Joan Van Ark had begun working in front of a screen rather than on stage. She appeared on television series including Temperature’s Rising, Spider-Woman, and Days of Our Lives and even in one episode of Bonanza.
Even though Joan Van Ark wasn’t short of jobs, she was still looking for her significant breakthrough role as the 1980s approached. In 1978, she made several appearances as Valene Ewing on Dallas – which led her to the role of a lifetime.
Knots Landing – a spinoff of Dallas – premiered in 1979, and Joan Van Ark reprised her role as Valene Ewing. She starred in 327 episodes – acting alongside Michele Lee as Karen and Ted Schakleford as Gary – and became a massive star.
Even though it was a spinoff of Dallas – about the rotten but wealthy Ewing Clan – it was initially brought to CBS years before.
However, the network wanted a “big rich family” show, and Dallas got picked as the one. But later on, Knots Landing became a massive success as the studio realized how big of a show Dallas had grown into, and after only one season, it rose into the top 20 in TV ratings.
How Joan Van Ark almost missed out on her biggest role
Knots Landing became the story of Gary Ewing and his wife Valene – played by Van Ark – and how they decided to start a new life in Knots Landing.
However, Van Ark almost missed out on the part of Valene Ewing. She explained that she had a “three-way clash” where she did The Love Boat simultaneously, as well as a commercial in New York.
In the end, it was her husband – John Marshall, who we will come back to in a minute – that persuaded her into choosing Dallas. And it was a significant – and important – decision.
“I got the call asking me to do a guest appearance in this show called Dallas, which was attracting a lot of buzz, but I said to my husband, ‘John, why should I even read this script? I can’t be in three places at once,’” she told Express. “Then he read it and said, ‘No, you’ve got to do it. It looks wonderful.’”
“So basically, he talked me into a schedule that had me in LA one day, then flying to Dallas for two days, followed by two days in New York and then back to Texas. But looking at this old cast photo from Knots Landing – the spinoff from Dallas – I’m so glad I listened to him,” she added.
Dallas and Knots Landing became a 15-year commitment for Van Ark, who became identified by her role. As earlier mentioned, she and Julie Harris had quite a history – and in 1980, they met again
“I could stay forever on the show and be safe”
Harris was cast in Knots Landing as the mother of Van Arks’ character, and for the actress, it was almost too good to be true.
“When the producers told me they had finally last someone to play my mother, I held my breath,” she recalled in a 1984 interview with Florida Today.
“I thought, ‘Oh my God, are they going to say Phyllis Diller or Zsa Zsa Gabor, or who?’ Then they said it was Julie Harris, and I went right through the roof. I couldn’t believe they had picked her to be my mother. They didn’t even know we were friends.”
Joan Van Ark stayed for 13 seasons and 327 episodes on the show. Then in 1993, just one season after she left, Knots Landing was canceled. But the reason for Joan leaving wasn’t that she didn’t like it. Instead, it was all about her trying on new challenges.“I could stay forever on the show and be safe,” Van Ark told the Los Angeles Times in 1992.
“But three years ago, I did Night of the Iguana in Williamstown (Mass.), and I had a quote from Tennessee Williams taped on my mirror, taken from an essay he’d written on success. It said, and I’m paraphrasing here: ‘Security is in the shape of a kidney-shaped pool in Los Angeles, where you sit waiting for your residual checks.’ I was in a comfortable spot on Knots, and an artist should not be comfortable.”
At the same time, the television series became a huge part of Van Ark’s life. So even though she felt comfortable leaving, it was a tough blow since she thought it would be easier.
Blamed herself for ‘Knots Landing’ cancelation
“I have loved more than life the 13 years I’ve had on that show,” she said. “[Knots Landing creator] David Jacobs is a great influence on my life, has taught me so much about so many things. Ted [Shackelford] is the other half of every breath I take on the show, and personally, he’s a large part of my heart. The people are my family–we have shared marriages, deaths, divorces. It’s far more difficult to leave than I thought.”
The show didn’t quite work without the great chemistry between characters Valen and Gary. In fact, Joan took the blame for the show being shut down.
“Well, it was my fault. I jumped over to NBC to do a pilot which did not sell,” she said. “I was so ready to go, after fourteen years with the one lady, so I auditioned for the pilot, and they cast me. It wasn’t as cleanly negotiated as it should have been. When the pilot didn’t sell, they asked me back, and I did do the four-hour finale of the show.”
Joan Van Ark left the soap opera business behind but continued to star in many television series. She had minor parts in television series, including Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and starred in some television movies. Between 2004 and 2005, Joan appeared as Gloria Fisher in 55 episodes of the hugely successful television drama The Young and The Restless.Joan Van Ark – marriage, husband, children
It’s common for celebrities in Hollywood to marry other celebrities, and show-biz marriages don’t always last very long.
But that wasn’t the case for Joan Van Ark, who met the love of her life back in high school. She met her husband, John Marshall, while the two were students in Boulder. In 1966, the couple married on a military base in Germany.
“Believe me, it was nothing like the marriages [Valene Ewing] has gone through,” she told UPI.
In 1969, they welcomed daughter Vanessa Marshall, who also chose a career in entertainment. She became a well-known voice-over artist and actually gave up on her on-camera acting career. Instead, Vanessa Marshall has lent her voice to animated films, television series, and several video games.
John Marshall went on to become an Emmy newsman, working on KNBC-TV and NBC. He’s had a flourishing career just as his wife Joan, and while the couple was working hard to make it in their respective fields, Vanessa was growing up.
For Van Ark, becoming a mother while trying to navigate through the business was tough. And she gives credit to her husband, John, for keeping the family together during those stressful years.
“He is the reason we have the most wonderful daughter in the world and that the marriage has stayed strong,” Van Ark told The Leader-Post in 1988. “I feel I am the committed person who can’t give up time for this or that.”
“He did not want to miss watching Venessa grow up, and he did not want to miss me,” she added. “He knows correspondents live out of suitcases. John made career choices I didn’t agree with because if it had been me, I would have packed my bags, and I would have been waiving at the airport.”Joan Van Ark – net worth
Besides her acting job, Joan Van Ark has a great interest in running. The 78-year-old has completed several marathons and explained she’s running instead of going to a psychologist. However, when it comes to her husband, she stated that she would never go on a run with him.
Why? Because “it’s the quickest way to a divorce that I know of. You’re always criticizing the other’s style,” Joan said.
In the last decade, Joan Van Ark has continued to work on stage in several productions for theater and starring in television series and movies such as Watercolor Postcards and Psycho Wedding Crasher. But she will always be most remembered for her magnificent spell on Dallas and Knots Landing.
According to Celebrity Net Worth, Joan Van Ark has a net worth of around $10 million.
My Grandsons Left My Wife Stranded at a Gas Station to Party — My Lesson Made Them as Good as Gold
They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but what I cooked up for my grandsons after they abandoned my wife at a gas station was downright frigid. Sometimes love looks like tough lessons, and sometimes lessons need to hurt to stick.
I don’t like to talk about my private life on social media, but what happened last month was something that had to be shared here.
All my life, I’ve been known as the calm one. The reasonable one. The man who thinks before he speaks and rarely raises his voice.
An older man sitting in his living room | Source: Midjourney
For 43 years, I worked my fingers to the bone at the same manufacturing plant, climbing from floor worker to shift supervisor before finally retiring three years ago. Every overtime shift, every missed weekend, and every aching muscle was all to make sure my family had what they needed.
Not necessarily what they wanted, mind you, but what they needed. A stable home. Good education. Dinner on the table every night.
A plate of lasagna | Source: Pexels
Now, in my retirement, I’ve finally been able to focus on the one person who stood by me through it all. My Laura. My wife of 43 years, with her soft smile and that quiet laugh that still makes my heart skip like it did when we were teenagers.
She’s the kind of woman who remembers everyone’s birthday, who still clips coupons even though we don’t need to anymore, who volunteers at the animal shelter every Tuesday because “the cats get lonely.”
We’ve got two twin grandsons. Kyle and Dylan, both 23.
Two brothers sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney
They’re smart and charming. I always thought they were raised well until the moment I received a phone call from Laura.
It started just before Easter. The boys showed up at our door unannounced, saying they had a “surprise” for Grandma’s birthday.
According to them, they were planning a trip to Washington, D.C. because she’d always dreamed of seeing the cherry blossoms there.
A close-up shot of cherry blossoms | Source: Pexels
I remember how her eyes lit up when they described the Jefferson Memorial surrounded by pink petals and the boat rides on the Potomac.
They told her she didn’t need to lift a finger.
They’d book the hotel, cover the meals, and take care of everything. All she had to do was let them borrow her car for the journey. Laura cried right there in our living room. Said it was the sweetest gift she’d ever been given.
I won’t lie, even I got misty-eyed watching her happiness.
An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
After four decades of putting everyone else first, my Laura was finally getting the recognition she deserved.
But I should’ve known something was off when they said, “You don’t need to come, Grandpa. We want this to be just for her.”
I chalked it up to them wanting quality time with their grandmother. Now I wish I’d listened to that little voice in the back of my head.
Two days later, I got a phone call that broke me in a way I haven’t felt since my brother passed.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
It was Laura.
Her voice was trembling with the effort of holding back tears. She was at a gas station. Alone. At midnight. No money. No food. No car.
“Arnold,” she whispered, “I don’t want to bother you, but I don’t know what to do.”
As she spoke, the story unfolded like a nightmare. Their “gift” had gone like this: They had her pay for the hotel, claiming their credit cards were “blocked” and they’d “pay her back soon.” She covered all the meals, their museum tickets, and even bought them new clothes when they claimed they’d forgotten to pack enough. Every time she reached for her purse, they assured her it was just a temporary loan.
A man holding an empty wallet | Source: Pexels
Then, on the last day, while heading home, they stopped for gas just outside of Richmond. Laura went in to pay (again) and while she was at the counter, they simply drove off. Took her car. Left their 64-year-old grandmother stranded at a gas station so they could “go party” at some club one town over.
My heart turned to stone as she described waiting for them to return.
An old woman sitting at a gas station | Source: Midjourney
How she’d sat outside on a metal bench for hours, then moved to huddle next to a vending machine when it got too cold. How she’d spent the night wrapped in her thin spring coat, trying not to draw attention to herself, afraid to sleep in case someone bothered her.
She didn’t even have enough money left for a taxi or a hotel room.
“I didn’t want to call,” she said. “I kept thinking they’d come back. They must have forgotten. They wouldn’t just leave me…”
But they did. They left my Laura alone in the dark like she was nothing.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Stay where you are,” I said. “I’m coming.”
Four hours later, I picked her up, hugged her, and drove home in silence. She told me everything on the ride, including how the boys had spent the entire trip on their phones, barely talking to her, and treating her more like an ATM than a grandmother.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, I already had a plan.
A view from a car | Source: Pexels
***
Three days after those boys got back, I texted them both the same message.
“Grandma and I were so touched by your birthday surprise. We’d love to return the favor. Pack for the weekend. We’re taking you on a trip.”
They responded almost immediately. Kyle with a string of excited emojis. Dylan with “Finally! A family getaway where we don’t have to foot the bill!”
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
What they didn’t know was that I’d already called in a favor from an old friend of mine, Sam, who runs a wilderness retreat center up in the mountains. It used to be a Boy Scouts camp back when we were kids.
Now? It’s primarily a digital detox center for teenagers who can’t go five minutes without checking social media.
Sam owed me big time after I helped him rebuild his dock last summer. When I explained what had happened to Laura, his face turned dark.
“Tell me what you need, Arnold,” he said.
A man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
I told him, “Make it old-school. The full 1985 experience. Cold showers. No phones. Military cots. The works.”
He said, “Say less, my friend. I’ve got just the program.”
We drove out Friday morning. Three hours deep into the woods, far beyond cell service. The boys were hyped in the backseat the whole way, playing music on their phones, taking selfies, joking about what luxury accommodations awaited them. I just nodded and kept quiet as I drove on the rough road.
A man holding a steering wheel | Source: Pexels
We arrived at the camp around noon. Dirt parking lot. Wooden cabins with peeling paint. Outhouses instead of bathrooms. Not a Wi-Fi signal in sight.
“Uh… where’s the hotel?” Kyle asked.
Dylan added, “Is this like, a themed Airbnb or something? Before we go to the real place?”
“Retro weekend, boys!” I announced with a smile. “Disconnect to reconnect. That’s the theme.”
They groaned in unison as they realized what was happening.
I asked for their phones, told them it was “part of the experience.”
A man talking to his grandsons | Source: Midjourney
Begrudgingly, they handed them over, still clearly expecting this to be some sort of joke or brief introduction before the real vacation began.
Then I showed them the printed schedule I’d worked out with Sam:
Saturday:
6 a.m. wake-up
Clean the outdoor latrines
Chop firewood
Hand-wash dishes from the mess hall
Evening: group journaling on “gratitude”
Sunday:
Mow the lawn with push mowers
Build a compost bin
Final activity: a lecture titled “Respecting Your Elders: Why It’s Not Optional”
Their jaws literally dropped. I would have laughed if I wasn’t still so angry.
A close-up shot of a young man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“You’re kidding,” Kyle said, looking around for cameras, as if this might be some elaborate prank.
Dylan laughed nervously. “Wait… seriously? This is the trip?”
I said nothing. Just handed their duffel bags to Sam, who had appeared silently behind them.
Then I got back in the truck. And drove off.
In the rearview mirror, I could see them standing there, mouths open, as Sam put a firm hand on each of their shoulders and guided them toward the most basic cabin on the property.
A truck | Source: Pexels
***
I didn’t hear from them until Sunday evening.
Sam had called earlier to assure me they were fine. Sullen, blistered, and exhausted… but fine. He said they’d done every task assigned, though not without complaint.
The biggest shock to their system had been the 5 a.m. cold shower on Saturday when the camp’s ancient water heater “mysteriously” stopped working.
Around seven that evening, our home phone rang. They’d borrowed the camp director’s landline.
A landline phone | Source: Pexels
Kyle sounded hoarse. “Grandpa,” he said, voice cracking, “we’re sorry. We’re so, so sorry.”
I could hear sniffling, and then Dylan got on the line. “Please… just let us talk to Grandma.”
I passed the phone to Laura, who had been sitting quietly beside me all weekend. She’d been against the plan at first, saying “they’re just boys” and “they made a mistake.”
But when I gently reminded her how she’d looked when I found her at the gas station, she just went quiet.
A woman looking down | Source: Midjourney
She listened quietly while they poured their hearts out. Apologies. Regret. Tears. Promises to make it up to her.
When they finally finished, she simply said, “I knew your grandfather would come up with something appropriate. He doesn’t say much. But he remembers every tear on my face.”
I picked them up Monday morning. They came trudging out of the camp looking like they’d aged five years in a weekend. Sunburnt. Sore. Quiet.
They hugged Laura so hard she nearly tipped over, both of them talking over each other with apologies.
And me? I made them pancakes and let them sit in the silence of their own guilt while they ate. Sometimes the loudest statement is saying nothing at all.
A plate of pancakes | Source: Pexels
A week later, they showed up at our house again. But this time, not for food or favors or to ask for money.
They had printed photo albums from the cherry blossom trip. Not the half-dozen selfies they’d taken, but actual thoughtful photos of the monuments, the flowers, the experiences they’d shared. Inside was a card covered in their messy handwriting:
“To the best Grandma,
We messed up. This was supposed to be about you. We forgot that. Never again.
Love, Kyle & Dylan.”
And tucked inside was a second envelope. It had every cent she had spent, repaid in cash.
An envelope | Source: Pexels
Since then? They’ve taken her to lunch every other Sunday. They call just to check in. Last week, they even fixed up our fence without being asked.
They learned. Because sometimes the best lessons don’t come from yelling or lecturing or endless arguments.
They come from one cold night. No phones. No car. No Grandma.
Just the long, lonely silence of knowing you broke someone’s heart.
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