(2 of 2)
Along with Leonard Warren, Robert Merrill, Eleanor Steber, Risë Stevens, Blanche Thebom and others, Tucker was part of a new wave of opera singers who were American-born and mainly American-trained. His name soon became linked with Italian opera. In 1949 Arturo Toscanini chose him to sing Radames in Aida in the conductor's nationwide opera broadcast. In the years thereafter, Tucker used his voice judiciously, increasing his repertory gradually so that later, as his contemporaries began retiring, his own voice sounded fresh and resilient. A year ago last October, he realized a lifelong dream when he appeared as Eléazar in Halévy's opera La Juive, mounted in a special production for him by the New Orleans Opera Company. Coincidentally, La Juive was the last major new undertaking for Caruso in 1919. Tucker's considerable pride in himself was eclipsed only by his pride in his wife and three sons. When he first sang at the Met, he was surprised to find that great artists envied him his family. "But then I got to understand," he said, "because I saw them going home to their hotel rooms, alone. What did they have really? Nothing."
Whenever he had a minute off during rehearsals, he would rush offstage to the telephone, often to call his broker. An incorrigible speculator, he invested thousands in an oil-drilling deal that ended with a postcard reading, "Sorry, dry well." He loved dancing, regularly turning up at Miami Beach and other favorite spas. He also threw parties for 250 guests at a clip in his home in Great Neck, N.Y. Despite a $250,000 annual income, he never forgot his friends from the garment days. His phone number was listed—"in case some poor guy wants to come backstage with his wife and kids. I say, let him come. It can be a festive occasion for him." And no doubt it was.