A WINK ONLY SOAP FANS COULD CATCH

What millions saw as a brief throwaway line on General Hospital was, in truth, a love letter to half a century of daytime storytelling.
When Veronica “Ronnie” Bard looked across the room, locked eyes with Brennan, and softly uttered one word — “Joey” — longtime soap devotees felt the universe fold in on itself.

That single name wasn’t a new plot twist in GH canon. It was a deliberate inside joke, a meta wink crafted for those who remember One Life to Live and its indelible matriarch, Victoria “Viki” Lord Riley Buchanan.
Because the woman now playing Ronnie, six-time Emmy winner Erika Slezak, once ruled Llanview as Viki.
And the actor standing opposite her, Chris McKenna, spent his 1990s run on OLTL as — yes — Joey Buchanan, Viki’s son.

For a heartbeat, the two weren’t Ronnie and Brennan.
They were mother and child again, meeting across decades of soap history.

THE QUEEN OF LLANVIEW RETURNS

For forty-two years, Erika Slezak was the emotional spine of One Life to Live, guiding Viki Lord through dissociative-identity crises, newsroom wars, doomed marriages, and the tangled web of Buchanan family drama.
When the series aired its final ABC episode in 2012, it closed a chapter not just for Viki but for the entire daytime landscape.

“Daytime has always been about relationships,” Slezak told Variety in a 2009 profile. “You come into people’s homes every day, and they let you stay there for decades.”

Her GH appearance marked her first return to a network soap since OLTL’s ABC finale — a symbolic reunion of ABC Daytime’s shared DNA. For many fans, seeing Slezak back on screen wasn’t just nostalgic; it felt restorative.

“It was like seeing royalty walk back into the palace,” says longtime viewer Maria Lorenzo, moderator of the Facebook group OLTL Forever. “We all gasped when she said ‘Joey.’ That was the moment we realized the writers were giving us a gift.”

WHY “JOEY” MATTERED

To casual General Hospital viewers, the line might have sounded like a slip. But to those who spent decades following the OLTL Buchanans, it landed like a secret handshake.

Chris McKenna played Joey Buchanan from 1990 to 1993 and again briefly in 2010. His version of Joey was the golden-hearted heir — earnest, impulsive, forever trying to live up to the Buchanan name. When McKenna walked onto GH as Brennan, fans instantly noticed the multiverse irony: he was sharing scenes with the woman who, in another timeline, was his mother.

“It was surreal,” McKenna later admitted during a podcast appearance on That Soap Show. “We were running lines and suddenly I realized — wait, this is Viki Lord! I grew up on that set. It felt like coming home.”

The show’s writers clearly recognized the poetic symmetry. The “Joey” line was scripted late in production, insiders reveal, after producers learned the two actors would share a scene.

“It wasn’t about crossing storylines,” a GH source told EW. “It was about honoring history. Daytime fans have invested fifty years in these characters. You can’t ignore that kind of emotional currency.”

THE SHARED DNA OF DAYTIME

ABC’s soap lineage runs deep. For decades, One Life to Live, All My Children, and General Hospital occupied adjacent studios in New York and later Los Angeles. Cast members attended the same wrap parties, borrowed wardrobe, even shared production crews. When one show folded, its alumni often resurfaced in another.

That ecosystem fostered an interconnected sense of family rarely seen elsewhere in television. “We called it the ‘ABC Rep Company,’ ” jokes casting director Mark Teschner, who has worked on GH since 1989. “If you’d done good work on OLTL or AMC, we knew you could handle our pace.”

Slezak’s GH cameo extends that legacy — a symbolic bridge between Llanview and Port Charles, two fictional towns that together shaped generations of viewers.

A HISTORICAL FIRST? NOT QUITE

Cross-soap nods aren’t new. GH has winked at its sister series before — from Blair Cramer’s (Kassie DePaiva) guest stint to Todd Manning’s (Roger Howarth) crossover in 2012. But Slezak’s moment carried extra weight because it happened after OLTL’s rights reverted and its universe effectively dissolved.

“It’s the first time Viki Lord’s shadow has reached into another show since 2013,” notes television historian Carolyn Hinsey. “It wasn’t about continuity; it was about recognition. GH was saying, ‘We remember.’ ”

That subtle nod underscores how soap operas function less like separate series and more like chapters in a shared, decades-long narrative experiment.

FANS REACT: “WE FELT SEEN”

Within minutes of the episode airing, X (formerly Twitter) lit up.
“Did Ronnie just call Brennan ‘Joey’? I SCREAMED!” wrote @SoapArchivist.
Another post racked up 30 k likes: “That wasn’t a line — that was a portal.”

The GH subreddit turned into a digital reunion for OLTL veterans, with fans sharing screenshots of Slezak’s earliest scenes from 1971.

“It was genius,” says fan and pop-culture blogger Dana Keen. “You didn’t have to know the history to feel the emotion, but if you did, it hit like poetry.”

ERIKA SLEZAK’S LEGACY

Across more than 40 years, Slezak collected six Daytime Emmys and the respect of colleagues from every corner of the industry. She was known for her professionalism, meticulous preparation, and quiet wit.

“She could do a five-page emotional breakdown in one take,” recalls executive producer Frank Valentini, who also cut his teeth on OLTL. “Having her on GH even for a day reminded everyone what true daytime craftsmanship looks like.”

Slezak herself approached the cameo with humility. “It was wonderful to see familiar faces and meet new ones,” she said in a statement to Soap Opera Digest. “The script had a lovely surprise in it, and I’m glad people caught it.”

BEHIND THE SCENES: HOW THE CAMEO HAPPENED

According to production insiders, Slezak’s appearance came together quietly. GH showrunner Chris Van Etten, a lifelong OLTL fan, had long wanted to feature her in a guest role that honored her legacy without derailing current storylines.

“Erika’s schedule opened up, and the timing was perfect,” says one associate producer. “Frank [Valentini] made a single call, and she said yes within hours. We didn’t want to make it a big press thing — we wanted fans to discover it organically.”

The scene was shot in a single day at Prospect Studios in Los Angeles. Crew members reportedly applauded after her final take.

WHY SOAP OPERAS STILL MATTER

In an age dominated by streaming thrillers and reality franchises, daytime dramas endure as a cultural constant. General Hospital, now past its 60th anniversary, remains television’s longest-running scripted drama. Its continued success rests on emotional continuity — the sense that every moment is connected to what came before.

That’s what makes the Slezak-McKenna exchange so powerful. It acknowledges not just character history but audience memory. The wink reminds viewers that their loyalty and recall are part of the art form itself.

“Daytime is built on shared history,” notes media scholar Dr. Emily Crandall. “When a show nods to another, it validates decades of fan investment. It says: ‘We know you’ve been paying attention.’ ”

THE POWER OF META STORYTELLING

Television has grown increasingly self-aware. From Grey’s Anatomy’s callbacks to Law & Order’s legacy cameos, writers are learning that intertextuality deepens engagement. Soaps pioneered this long before prestige dramas made it trendy.

“Meta isn’t new to us,” says veteran GH scribe Michele Val Jean. “Soap fans are historians. They remember who married whom in 1987. If we give them a breadcrumb, they’ll find the entire loaf.”

The “Joey” moment exemplifies that ethos: one line, infinite layers.

CROSS-GENERATIONAL IMPACT

For younger viewers, the cameo also served as a crash course in daytime lineage. Clips of Slezak’s OLTL scenes began trending on TikTok within 24 hours, introducing her to an audience who weren’t alive when Llanview ruled afternoons.

“It’s wild,” McKenna laughed during a recent interview. “My kids saw a clip on TikTok and said, ‘Wait, that’s Grandma Viki?’ I had to explain the whole soap-opera multiverse.”

That viral resurgence underscores a surprising truth: nostalgia, when handled with care, can be a growth strategy.

A TRIBUTE TO CONNECTION

Behind the nostalgia lies a deeper message about human connection — the lifeblood of daytime television.

For more than 60 years, soaps have chronicled resilience, redemption, and relationships. They mirror how people change but love endures. The GH writers knew invoking “Joey” wasn’t about fan service alone; it was about acknowledging that these stories belong to everyone who’s ever cared enough to remember.

“When Ronnie said ‘Joey,’ I thought of my mom,” says viewer Kelly Tran, 34. “She watched OLTL while folding laundry. Hearing that name again made me feel like she was right next to me.”

INDUSTRY INSIDERS APPLAUD

Hollywood professionals were just as moved.
Former OLTL head writer Ron Carlivati tweeted, “That one word carried fifty years of history. Brilliant.”
Casting directors praised GH for embracing continuity without alienating new audiences.

“There’s an art to legacy cameos,” says ABC executive Susan Heller. “Do too much and it feels like fan fiction. Do too little and it goes unnoticed. This one hit the sweet spot.”

THE AFTERMATH: WHAT COMES NEXT?

Will Ronnie Bard become a recurring character? ABC hasn’t confirmed, but sources say producers are “open to future appearances.” Whether or not she returns, the cameo’s cultural footprint is undeniable.

“Moments like this remind us why we fell in love with daytime,” says critic Jonathan Reynolds. “It’s not just the melodrama — it’s the continuity of emotion.”

ERIKA SLEZAK’S NEXT CHAPTER

Now 78, Slezak divides her time between family life and selective creative projects. Though mostly retired, she continues to attend Daytime Emmy events and remains active in the OLTL alumni community.

“She has nothing to prove,” says Valentini. “But she still has that spark. If we ever have the right story, we’d welcome her back in a heartbeat.”

CLOSING THE CIRCLE

In 2025’s crowded entertainment landscape, it’s easy to dismiss a fleeting line on a weekday soap. But for those who grew up with Viki Lord’s steady grace, the GH moment was far more than nostalgia — it was validation.

It said: the stories you loved mattered. The people who told them still care.
In a medium built on memory, that’s the truest kind of continuity.

As the credits rolled, a few sharp-eared fans caught another Easter egg: the episode’s background score subtly wove in four notes from OLTL’s original theme.
A coincidence? Hardly.

It was a final nod — soft, fleeting, and perfect — to a world that may have faded from the airwaves but never from the hearts of those who lived one life to live.