Max's Bio

My father, older brother Ralph, my mother and me, circa 1952.

I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah early in the morning on January 31, 1952, the second son of a couple who lived in Bingham Canyon, Utah. My father, James C. Goff, was a miner living in a mining town. And my mother, Else Kersten Goff, was his war bride, from the Rhineland of Germany. We were not wealthy people. Not in a material sense, that is....we were wealthy in other ways. As dysfunctional as they often tend to be, families still seem to offer sufficient nurturing and love. And mine was no different. Our struggles were our struggles. Self sufficiency was the theme and the family was the focus.

My mother took my older brother and I on a trip to Germany in early 1954, when we were still quite young. I don't remember much of it at all, as I was only two years old at the time -- although my earliest memories, as sporadic as they are, do stem from events around that journey.
We traveled from Salt Lake City to New York by train, and then a huge passenger ship ferried us across the Atlantic. Although I can't remember it, I was told I got serious food poisoning on the ship going, and almost didn't make it. I don't recall a near death experience or anything like that but perhaps some of my more eclectic tendencies do stem from that very early brush with death. :)

Growing Up

My parents worked hard and taught all three of their sons to do the same. Politically we were Democrats. My father used to say, "Any man who carries a lunch bucket and votes Republican is a damn fool." As for religion, we were taken to Catholic mass by our mother until we moved from Bingham Canyon in 1958 to a small farm town at the southwest edge of the Salt Lake Valley called, Herriman. The only church in Herriman was Mormon, which was across the street from our house. We became "not affiliated." My mother elected to forgo mass as the drive to the nearest parish was considerable. And my father never bothered with church anyway -- he was a "Jack Mormon," raised in a large Mormon family in southern Utah. His mother, my grandmother, was a devout Mormon. But my grandfather was also a Jack, as was my father. In Herriman, we three boys (my younger brother came along in 1956) were allowed to do whatever we chose when it came to religion. But if we made a commitment to attend church in order to play basketball or join the local Boy Scout troop, we were expected to keep our commitments.

My older brother and I were always gifted in school. Our mother taught us to read before we entered kindergarten, and she also taught us rudimentary mathematics. That head start enabled both of us to excel in the early parts of our education. We were both considered to be "smart." And since there was about 22 months between us, we were also competitive. Which made us both over achievers through high school. Our younger brother didn't have that problem. He was content to be a "C" student as education wasn't his priority. He knew what he wanted to do...raise cattle. Our grandfather had been a cattle rancher in southern Utah, and had lost the ranch during the Depression. Since my grandfather died before I was born, we were raised on stories from the old ranching days from my father and our grandmother. My younger brother's dream was to restore the family name to the cattle business. And he's done so. He now raises registered Short Horn cattle with his family on a small ranch near Burly, Idaho.

When I was in the 5th grade, a fellow came out from the main school district office and gave me a test. I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was, when they called me in from recess, the principal stopped me from going into class and told me I needed to go in the spare classroom and talk to a gentleman. The school in Herriman, which was also right across the street from our house, was a 4 room brick building built in the late 1800s. There were only 80 or so students in six grades, with grades doubling up. The 1st and 2nd in one classroom, and so on. The spare classroom was used for mainly for storage. The man was nice, as I recall. I don't remember too much about the testing, though I do remember learning what the word "spangled" meant, as that was one I hadn't learned yet. In any event, at the end of the testing the man met with the principle and they had me wait in the spare room. I thought I was in trouble. Then the principle got me and told me I had to go home and get my parents.

I was quite scared on the short walk across the street to our house, as I thought I was in trouble. I remember my mother was painting the door, and when I told her the principle wanted to see her, she got a little upset. When she got back, I learned that they wanted to have me skip the 6th grade and move on to junior high the following year.

That was the second time the district wanted me to skip a grade. They came to my parents once before, when I was in the 1st grade, and asked then if they could skip me. But at that point, my parents declined. This time, however, they agreed. The following year, I caught the bus with all the older kids and drove the 23 miles to the junior high in West Jordan, Utah. My brother and I were only 1 year apart in school now....and the competitive egos in us both demanded that we out do each other in academic accomplishments. But it was no contest. I had the upper hand. Though he might want you to believe otherwise. :)

The most notable thing about junior high for me was the drastic adjustments I had to make, having skipped a grade to get there. I remember feeling very alienated, not a part of the social communities that I observed forming around me. Even though I did quite well academically, I wasn't very happy. But I did manage to have my first real stage experience in Junior High, which in retrospect, was a vital part of my growth.

My older brother Ralph had been rehearsing a skit with another fellow from his class, a skit that was to be part of a touring Road Show -- a show that would go to all the Junior High stages in our school district. It was quite an honor to be part of the touring show, as students had to audition to be included. Naturally, Ralph was excited. And perhaps it was the excitement that caused his illness -- or perhaps it was stage fright. Or maybe he just got sick. But in any event, he did fall ill, and wasn't able to honor his commitment to be part of the show. So what did he do, rather than let the school down? He volunteered me -- his "little brother." He suggested that I was bright, a quite study, and lied and said I had had plenty of stage experience in grade school. He would work with me to ensure I got the lines and blocking, and it would be no problem for me to go on the tour. I found out about it that night when I got home. I had one night of cramming with him, one hour of rehearsal the following day with his skit partner, and the second day, we were on the road. And as terrified as I was, I also found the experience to be entirely exhilarating, thus beginning what has since become my so called theatrical career.

High School
I attended Bingham High School from 1966-69. At the time, the school was located in Copperton, Utah, at the mouth of the Bingham Canyon where the huge open pit copper mine continues to thrive. The town of Bingham was a bleak skeleton of what it had once been by the time I got to high school. Now, there's nothing left of it. Where once there was a bustling town -- as many as 25,000 at one point, so I've been told -- now there is nothing. Roads, trucks going to and from the mine. And the memory of an old mining town filled with immigrants and displaced farmers.

In high school, I learned the persuasive art of oratory and debate. I acted for the first time in earnest in high school. I found it was something I could do, and the opportunities with young ladies back stage were wonderful. Prior to acting, I had no clue as to how to approach a girl. I'd never dated, and was too shy to go to school dances -- being the youngest in the class as well as the brightest meant being a geek. And while I felt there was more to me than that, I played that role all through junior high. But in high school, I started to blossom.

In 1969 I graduated first of my class and gave the valedictory address. I don't remember all that much of what I said...though I do remember quoting JFK, "Let the word go forth, from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has passed to a new generation of Americans." And I believed it. I believed that I was part of a generation that would make profound, healthy changes in the world. In retrospect, I still do.

I'll add more later.

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