By Joe Puccio

Ditzy blondes in television and film have seemingly been around for nearly as long as the mediums themselves. From Marilyn Monroe, who popularized the archetype in movies like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and Jayne Mansfield, who was known for exotically vacuous parts in pictures such as The Girl Can’t Help It, to Suzanne Somers’ scatterbrained Chrissy Snow in farcical 1970s sitcom Three’s Company and Christina Applegate’s sexually mature but intellectually challenged Kelly Bundy in the satirically vulgar Married… with Children, the fabricated-for-the-screen image is often just that; a frivolous, lighthearted persona that is nothing like the performer’s true identity. For Lydia Cornell, best known for playing the stunning yet slightly daffy Sara Rush on Too Close for Comfort in the 1980s, it was a role that truly demonstrated the real life learned thespian’s acting prowess.      

“I wrote a book on (Joseph) Stalin, believe it or not,” Cornell uttered, rather matter-of-factly, during a recent conversation with Generation X Wire. The subsequent details shared by the well-rounded scholar on the international thriller she penned about one of the controversial Soviet leader’s most complex assassins, the man who killed rival Leon Trotsky, offers validity of her vast knowledge. The novel, titled The Sylvia Plan and based on a true story, is merely one of the fascinating bullet points on Cornell’s resume.

The El Paso, Texas-born actress, fluent in Spanish since first learning the second language in kindergarten, is the product of concert violinist parents Irma Jean Stowe and Gregory Jacob Korniloff. Her Russian father fled the Bolshevik revolution at 8 years old, relocating with his family in Shanghai, China, while her mother left home at 16 to live with her sophisticated celebrity-catering tailor aunt in Los Angeles, California. Her quite eclectic family tree is likely a primary reason for her life-long interest in accounts of years past.

“One of my great grandmothers was Harriet Beecher Stowe and my other one was the first vice detective in the wild west in Texas. In 1925, she was the only female cop in the state,” she revealed. “I have an old picture of her sitting in the middle of about 50 other male cops, which had to be tough. Her husband died from the Spanish flu, so she had to raise her children and make a living. People back then were something. Here I am, worried when I break a fingernail,” she smiled. Cornell’s admiration of Stowe, the famed abolitionist and author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, is clearly evident in both her vivid stories passed down to her throughout the decades as well as through her figurative glow as she tells them.

“Being a descendant of Harriet Stowe means everything to me. When she wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin, women weren’t even allowed to vote,” she explained. “She had such compassion in her heart for women and for slaves. A lot of people actually panned the book because of it supposedly being too emotional and romantic but it’s such a beautiful story. I’m thrilled to be her great granddaughter, especially because I’m a student of history.”

Cornell’s familial roots will be revealed in much greater detail in her upcoming biography, expected to be released this year. But in addition to intriguing tales about her ancestors, it will, of course, also be a deep exploration of her fruitful show business career of nearly a half-century.

With a variety of small screen appearances in programs such as Knight Rider, The Dukes of Hazzard, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and The Love Boat to her credit, it was Too Close for Comfort, ABC’s smash hit starring Ted Knight, about an at-home cartoonist, his wife, and their two adult daughters who lived in the downstairs apartment of their San Francisco two-flat, that catapulted the beauty to stardom.

While Cornell has a deep admiration for Knight, who won two Emmy Awards for The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and is grateful for the opportunity that both he and the series afforded her, the collaboration between the two was admittedly a bit rocky. “We had a love/hate relationship, for sure. I was awestruck around him, and he was so funny. He was always telling us dirty jokes,” she acknowledged. “However, there was period where Ted became really angry with me because of all the magazine covers I was on. But ABC did that and I had nothing to do with it. It was in my contract.”

Cornell detailed one such incident that occurred as soon as she arrived on the set one day. A famous tabloid had released an issue with a small, abated Prince Charles and Lady Diana wedding photograph in the corner while a scantily clad Cornell was predominantly featured on the cover. “Ted had it in his hands, told me something along the lines that he was the star of the show, threw it at me, and stormed off. Why was I on the cover? ABC positioned it that way since I was the sex symbol,” she conceded. “But I didn’t want that. I was mortified because I didn’t want all the attention. It was rough and I felt like I was the hated one on the set for a while.”

It should be noted that, despite how it sounds, the ‘love’ portion of their love/hate relationship ran very deep as well. “I did love him, and he taught me everything I know about comedy. And he was usually supportive of me and the rest of the cast,” she clarified. “But I mean, it WAS his show. And miscommunication like that was common on hit shows.”

Although Knight tragically passed away from colon cancer at just 62 (“That was so painful for me”), Cornell’s referenced Too Close for Comfort colleagues, including 89-year-old Nancy Dussault, who played her mother, her TV sister Deborah Van Valkenburgh, and next-door neighbor Jim J. Bullock, are all still dear friends.

“Jim is one of my best friends. I had such a crush on him when we first met and I didn’t even know he was gay – I think I was the only one who didn’t and they all make fun of me for that,” she laughed. “Deborah and are still so close. She really is like my sister. The three of us often do autograph shows together. And Nancy and I went to dinner together just recently. Nancy’s amazing and she’s actually still performing, singing Broadway show tunes, and she looks fantastic. A lot of us don’t want to age so we don’t,” she kidded.

All indications point towards a captivating written life story by Cornell once it hits bookshelves. From tales of secretly smoking with Audrey Meadows during the legend’s Too Close for Comfort days (“Audrey would bring a cucumber from her garden, cut it in half, stick the cigarette in it, and seal it up”) to sharing a stalker with Kelsey Grammer, to her ostensibly disastrous Too Close for Comfort audition, to the now-controversial 1985 episode in which Bullock’s Monroe is raped(!), it undoubtedly has the elements to be a top seller. “None of us realized just how horrifying that episode was until years later, making light of a man being sexually assaulted,” she sighed. “Thankfully, our society has gotten a little wiser and more empathetic now – well, kind of.”

And could a modernized Too Close for Comfort reboot ever happen? Although planning is still in its infancy and Cornell prefers to keep details off the record at this stage, it just might. “A show like Three’s Company, for example, would be hard to remake because the premise of a guy having to pretend that he’s gay in order to live with two girls is antiquated now,” she commented. “But the theme in Too Close for Comfort is universal, especially in this day and age where it’s hard for people to afford rent. Our show is more timely.”

Between acting, writing, and even standup comedy, Cornell, who’s shockingly a grandmother although one would never believe it by looking at her, clearly has no intention of slowing down. “When I got sober over 30 years ago, every tragedy in my life turned to comedy,” she articulated. “I think we’re supposed to be enjoying life, we’re supposed to be happy, and we’re supposed to laugh. Humor is one of the greatest gifts there is.”

Check out Lydia Cornell’s Linktree here.