GEROME RAGNI was an American actor, singer, and songwriter, born on this date (d: 1991); best known as one of the stars and co-writers of the 1967 musical Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical. In June 2009, he was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.

Ragni had been involved with The Open Theater since it was begun as part of the Living Theatre in 1962. In 1966, Open Theatre began rehearsals for the Megan Terry play Viet Rock. Ragni took a leading role in the show, which opened at the Martinique Theatre in New York and had a successful run.

Viet Rock and experimental theatre inspired Ragni to work with Rado on a musical about hippie culture. As research, they associated with a group of youths in the East Village who were dropping out and dodging the draft. They talked to people in the streets and people they knew, and read articles about hippie culture and youths being kicked out of school for growing their hair long. They wrote lyrics to thirteen songs (“Ain’t Got No”, “I Got Life”, “Reading and Writing”, “Don’t Put It Down”, “Sodomy”, “Colored Spade”, “Manchester, England”, “Frank Mills”, “We Look at One Another”, “Hair”, “Aquarius”, “Easy to Be Hard”, “Good Morning Starshine” and “Where Do I Go?”), and completed the first version of their musical, called Hair. Two of the thirteen songs were removed, many songs were revised, titles were changed, and more songs were written as they continued to work on the show.

Once they had a complete draft of the musical that they liked, Ragni and Rado brought the show to producer Nat Shapiro for consideration. He responded to the songs by asking, “Where’s the music?” Shapiro introduced Ragni and Rado to composer Galt MacDermot, who took the script and returned three weeks later with music for the songs Ragni and Rado had written. Their agent, Janet Roberts, tried to sell the show to Broadway producers, but it was rejected. Joseph Papp, of the New York Shakespeare Festival, called to say he wanted to produce it at his new theatre on Lafayette Street. Gerald Freedman was artistic director for the theater and signed on to direct the first production of Hair. In October 1967, Hair opened at The Public Theater with Ragni as Berger, MacDermot as a cop who busts the show at the end of the first act, and Rado as Claude. Michael Butler attended the opening night and subsequent performances, and was dissatisfied when Rado did not regularly play Claude, as he felt Rado had a natural affinity for the part.

Butler became interested in moving the show to Broadway. He bought the rights from Papp for $50,000 and began planning a grander production directed by Tom O’Horgan, who Ragni knew from off-Broadway. In the meantime, the show moved to a nightclub in Midtown, called Cheetah, where it had a month-long run. When O’Horgan signed on, the show hired choreographer Julie Arenal, assistant to Anna Sokolow, who had choreographed the Public Theater run.

In April 1968, the show re-opened in its revised form at the Biltmore Theatre on Broadway. Rado and Ragni reprised their roles from the off-Broadway production, and MacDermot was the musical director. The songs became hit singles for MacDermot, Liza Minnelli, Nelson Riddle, The Staples Singers, Quincy Jones, Three Dog Night, The Cowsills, Madeline Bell, Paul Jones, Sonja Kristina, The 5th Dimension, Oliver, Caterina Valente, and Barbra Streisand. The Broadway cast Hair album, released on RCA Records, topped the US billboard charts for a year. The 1970 album DisinHAIRited was then released with songs that were cut from the revised production.

The Broadway production was a traumatic experience for Ragni. He became wealthy, his marriage broke up, and he became disengaged from mainstream society. He joined a cult and contributed money to the Black Panther Party and the Yippies. Following the Broadway production, Ragni and Rado went to Los Angeles and played their original roles in a production of Hair for five months, making changes to the show as they performed. When they returned to the Broadway production, Ragni’s practice of spontaneously changing the show became a nuisance. In one incident, Ragni and Rado were arrested after walking nude down the aisle during a performance. At another time, there were guards outside the theatre who barred Ragni and Rado from entering. When the conflict was resolved, all Ragni’s changes were written into the script and Ragni and Rado rejoined the show. Soon afterwards, Ragni joined the touring company, playing Berger in many cities.

This writer encountered Gerry in a gay bar in San Francisco in early 1970s. I was dancing with a friend and the next thing I knew this wooly-headed older guy was dancing around me, flirting outrageously and asking if he could buy me a drink. I deflected him, and since it was time to go home I tried to elude him by saying I needed to leave. He asked if he could walk me home, and did. As we walked he asked me all kinds of questions about who I was and what I was doing in San Francisco. As we walked to my apartment on Polk Street, we passed City Hall and a statue of Abraham Lincoln. He kept asking me who that was and I started singing “Happy birthday Abie baby, Happy birthday to you.” He joined in and we danced around the statue. Oh, by the way…I had no idea who this guy was. I was just trying to dump him.

My boyfriend at the time had grown up in New York and was a huge fan of Broadway musicals. In particular, Hair. I was a good boyfriend, so I didn’t want to cheat on him and certainly not with this rough older guy who had walked me all the way home. So when I arrived at home, I was trying to tell him he needed to leave…I have a boyfriend who is inside, and he can’t come in. 

Nevertheless, he persisted and asked if he could meet my boyfriend. So I opened the door and called to my boyfriend, “Peter…come here…there’s someone who wants to meet you.” And down the hall he came, and as he got closer to us and could see the two of us in the foyer, he stopped, dead in his tracks, mouth agape. “Gerry Ragni! You’re Gerry Ragni!” 

And that is how I found out who Gerry Ragni was. He and Jim Rado became quick friends. They loved Peter’s fan-boy attitude towards them. They invited us to go see “a friend of [theirs] who was playing in Oakland” and that turned out to be Patty Smith, who came and sat at the table with us between sets. I invited them to Thanksgiving dinner at our apartment and they accepted avidly, asking what they could bring. I told them we had it under control and they didn’t need to bring anything. Thanksgiving day, close to dinner time, they hadn’t shown up yet, so I figured they had better plans. Then the front doorbell rang and I went to answer, and there were Jim and Gerry, with two strolling guitar players who played music for us all during dinner (we fed them, too, of course).

I had a dog named “Star” briefly. We had him then and Gerry met him, of course. At one point, Gerry drew a figure in my journal. He labeled it, “Jack Sound and his Dog Star Blowing His Final Trumpet on the Day of Doom.” He told me that was me. 

I was pretty sure Gerry and Jim were lovers. But at that time I just thought everyone were lovers. And certainly the guys who wrote Hair. He always denied it. He and I never really did anything. We slept together a couple of times, but nothing happened. He said he wasn’t really into it. But after he died in 1991, Jim Rado told The Advocate that they were, indeed, lovers.