Heather McPhaul was spit out amid the West Texas sandstorms in 1962. As she sat on her daddy's lap while he watched the evening news, images of the Vietnam War raged on... and on. This made her question the longevity of the world, so she gladly eased her tension with humorous friends on Bewitched, The Brady Bunch, and Laverne & Shirley. Movie musicals also helped her to survive the craziness that raged within. The Sound of Music and Grease were temporary distractions from the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder that, at times, threatened to drown her. When she wasn't going to school or watching syndicated sitcoms, she was forced to help on the family ranch and farm. In the summer, she and her sister hoed cotton ("You were a Hoer," a date once said to her) and in the fall, they tromped that same cotton. Heather hated such work then; she is grateful for it today. In fact, there is much she misses about her West Texas roots -- the people (their quirks and hilarity), the simple pleasures (the spectacle of a Texas thunderstorm or "thunder boomer" as her mom would say), and, of course, the food ("real" Chicken Fried Steak, anyone? Melt-in-your-mouth-delicious). In high school, Heather stumbled into what arts were available to her rural class of twenty: the annual one-act play and prose reading competitions. She thanks the University Interscholastic League in Texas for providing these extracurricular contests. After three consecutive years competing at the state level, Heather realized that the performing bug had sunk its hooks in deeply. And an actress was born.
