Mr. John Atchison, hair stylist to the stars who was seeing clients in Los Angeles, charmed her with his bright smile and formal Southern manners. I thought he was gorgeous, Ms. Frazier said.But Sheila Frazier of "Superfly" fame was not a typical Hollywood star. When Mr. Atchison, put down the curling iron and leaned in to chat, she pulled out a small Bible that she always carries with her.
The next thing you know we're talking about Scripture,remembered Mr. Atchison, 67, sounding both amused and inspired. People didn't believe it, he said. Sheila Frazier's in your hotel room for a haircut, and you're saying you're just reading the Bible?
Ms. Frazier, now 59, said she was looking for a spiritual connection, not a romantic one. A recently divorced mother of a 3-year-old, I was trying to pick up the pieces, she recalled. Her priorities were taking care of my son and finding work.Mr. Atchison admired her fortitude and especially her faith, since he was in the process of rediscovering his own.
He had transformed himself from being a subway token clerk, redesigning women's hairdos in his head, to a top stylist at Vidal Sassoon in Manhattan in less than two years. And it was only another four years before he opened his own Manhattan salon in 1976, attracting clients like Dionne Warwick, Cicely Tyson and Bill and Camille Cosby. But along the way Mr. Atchison's first marriage unraveled, and he became discomforted by the superficiality of his growing fame.
So he tried joining the EST movement (it was the 70s). Then he tried meditation. I went to some session upstate where they were chanting and carrying on, he recalled. Yet he inadvertently found the solace he was seeking while at a church service with his daughter at an A.M.E. church in Jamaica, Queens, which he began attending regularly.
But his friends in New York City were not churchgoers. They thought it was a phase I was going through, he said. So he looked forward to spending time with Ms. Frazier when in 1980 he opened a second salon, in Los Angeles, where he had occasionally operated from hotel rooms and client's homes.
His feelings for her soon deepened, which he repeatedly told her. But she didn't believe him. In Hollywood everyone says they love you, she said. It's like saying good morning.
He might have been more convincing had he not been dating other women.
Mr. Atchison was living a bifurcated life: devout in California but frequenting Studio 54 back East. His partygoing with models was only to promote his salons, he said.
Despite having developed strong feelings for him, Ms. Frazier had her doubts. I've always been taught to listen less to what a person says and watch more what they do, she said.
In 1993, when a man Ms. Frazier had been dating on and off for nine years proposed marriage, she accepted. John could have scooped me up and taken me away from the guy, she said, describing what she had hoped would happen. Instead he withdrew.
Her engagement was called off after nine months, but Mr. Atchison kept his distance for several years.
Ms. Frazier focused on her career, which has included television shows from The Love Boat to The West Wing. By 1990 she was also producing a talk show in Los Angeles for Black Entertainment Television, for which she eventually became the director of network talent, booking celebrity guests and training new hosts, work that she continues to do as a consultant.
Meanwhile, Mr. Atchison enrolled in correspondence courses to become an evangelical minister and started offering Bible study classes to stylists and clients at his salon. Since Ms. Frazier also led a Bible study group, it gave him an excuse to re-establish contact and compare notes.
Then last February, unable to fall asleep one night, I poured my heart out to God about the kind of woman that I want, he said, and recalled that he heard a voice respond: God said, Sheila. She's the one.
It was 4:30 in the morning, but he picked up the phone and called her. I asked "May I have permission to date you?" he said.
Cards and flowers followed, as did late-night phone calls exploring liturgy and love. I was no longer straddling the fence, he said. He invited her to New York for Easter and included an after-hours candlelight dinner at his salon, providing a cappella musical accompaniment with a song he had rehearsed for the occasion, I'm Glad There Is You.
She had been uncertain for so long about the depth of his feelings. But no longer. Consistency is what gets me, she said before the wedding. No one holds me like John does. Although we are celibate, I love his kisses.
On Feb. 2, gentle R&B music pulsed through the barrel-vaulted sanctuary at the Crenshaw Christian Center East in Manhattan, as Mr. Atchison and the couple's 160 guests waited for the bride's arrival.Looking svelte and serene, Ms. Frazier floated down the aisle in her strapless champagne-colored gown, gathering calla lilies and blessings from her nine bridal attendants.
Billy Brown, from the musical group Ray, Goodman & Brown, performed a song for the couple, and the Rev. Terry Starks, an evangelical minister, led them in their vows as they beamed at each other.
But it was not until the reception that Mr. Atchison could fully express his joy by serenading his new wife. I'm glad there is you, he crooned. She swayed and snapped her fingers as she had done in his salon. Then they moved together and melted into each other as the music played on.
By NY Times Writer Robert Stolarik