The hearts of the Fort Wayne theater community have been broken with the passing of our beloved Harvey Cocks Jr.
His storied life reads like a theatrical fantasy.
Born April 3, 1925, in Glen Cove, Long Island, Cocks’ father was a film promoter and managed multiple vaudeville theaters from the Midwest to the East Coast.
As an infant, Cocks would sleep in a trunk used to carry publicity stills and posters. When he was 3, his father began bringing him to rehearsals. They called him “the boy on the box” because he would quietly sit on an orange crate in the wings and watch the performers.
His earliest memory was meeting Al Jolson at the age of 4. Three years later, he became friends with 7-year-old vaudeville star Donald O’Connor.
When he was 8, his father put him to work tending to the performers. At 9, blues star Ethel Waters gave him his first Bible. Also among his early memories were meeting a teenage Doris Day, walking Laurel and Hardy from their train to their hotel when they played Fort Wayne, and taking Bing Crosby to a barbershop.
Help Along the Way
After years of traveling, sometimes staying only a month in a city, the family settled in Fort Wayne.
Cocks graduated from South Side High School in 1943 and was accepted at Carnegie Tech (now Carnegie Mellon), but passed it up to try his hand at acting in New York. Against all odds, the 18-year-old booked a role on his very first audition, and was soon cast (under the stage name Harvey Collins) as a replacement for the role of Clarence in the Broadway play Life with Father, alongside William Daniels.
His theatrical career was paved by his mentors. Playwrights Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse taught him to write plays. A stage manager organized a play for Cocks to direct, starring the Life with Father cast. The play was attended by friends of the playwrights and stars, and included Helen Hayes, Katharine Cornell, and the Lunts.
Cocks paid these kindnesses forward the rest of his life.
Returning to Fort Wayne
In 1952, a trip to his voice teacher changed his future. While waiting for his appointment, he heard a “throaty, wonderful voice” and fell in love, sight unseen. Their teacher introduced him to the singer, Jean Hansen. They married six years later and had two children, Ann and Christopher. They remained married until she passed away in 1994.
In 1971, Harvey moved his family to Fort Wayne to help his father run Quimby Village (and what is now the Clyde Theatre), which he owned. Jean fell in love with the city and its arts and culture, so they stayed.
After his father died, he sold Quimby Village and took a public relations job for a local hospital, but when Youtheatre president Roberta Daniels called and offered him the role of executive director, he jumped at the chance.
As a young Broadway actor, he had spent his one day off a week teaching theater to orphans in the Bronx, so it was a natural fit for him. He would remain with the organization the next 45 years, including as artist in residence in 2010 when he stepped down from the executive/artistic director role.
For more than 800 weekends, Cocks taught some 16,000 Youtheatre students and dozens of his proteges have gone on to professional theatrical and film careers. He wrote or directed hundreds of plays, including The Boy from Fairmount (about his New York friend James Dean).
In 2014, Cocks celebrated Youtheatre’s 80th anniversary by writing and directing his final play, an adaptation of The Steadfast Tin Soldier. He taught his final class in 2019 at age 94
Lasting Impression
Over the years, he directed and performed throughout Fort Wayne, winning multiple awards and accolades, including the 2012 H. Stanley Liddell Award given by Whatzup. Cocks officially retired from acting that year with his role as “Grandpa” Martin Vanderhof in the Kaufman and Hart play You Can’t Take It with You at First Presbyterian Theater, a production I was honored to be in with him.
Countless actors who worked with him, and families of the students he taught, remember him not just for his immense talent, but also for his kindness and generosity with his time, sharing life advice, theater advice, or just fascinating stories. He was known for sending handwritten letters, and he made every person he met feel special and seen. His legacy lives on in everyone he inspired.
“The second show I did at Arena, Social Security, featured Harvey. On closing night, I turned to him and said, ‘It has been a pleasure and an honor sharing the stage with you.’ He responded, ‘The pleasure has been all mine.’ It meant a lot coming from him. Such a talent. Such a kind man.” — Kevin Knuth
“I’ll never forget what a gracious gentleman Harvey Cocks was. Many times, I took a bus full of school kids to the Performing Arts Center (now the Arts United Center) for a tour, and Harvey would stop by and talk to the kids. He was a magical man.” — Sue Kahn
“I spent several Saturday mornings teaching for him at Youtheatre, but what I loved most was getting to his office early and having some coffee and conversation about theater. I loved that office in the basement of the Performing Arts Center. It was a dark, damp basement, but he made it warm, and I loved it.” — Jane Frazier
“Harvey directed She Loves Me at Arena and asked me to choreograph. I mentioned that choreographing a dance was no problem, but blocking a song was overwhelming to me. In his calm voice he said, ‘Well, it’s time you learned.’ Then, through just answering his perfect questions, I blocked Twelve Days to Christmas. He could have easily blocked it himself, but he took the time to teach me, and I use his advice every time I block anything. He was an amazing man with a huge heart.” — Laura Steineker-Taylor
“I was fortunate enough to do a two-man show with Harvey, Tuesdays With Morrie. Harvey was initially inhibited by the immense amount of dialogue, but as we progressed, we began to live the characters. Harvey became my Morrie. I am humbled, honored, and so grateful for having shared the stage and life with him.” — Richard Marchbanks
“Handwritten notes were Harvey’s specialty. He would even write thank-you notes for auditioning. Nothing made me more excited than getting a letter from Harvey in the mail! As he got older, he wasn’t really able to respond. I kept writing him though, because he taught me how much a letter can show someone that you care.” — Brooke Mae Mullett
