A new home for some old friends

I’ve written on here before about the importance of preserving television history. That’s not just in writing books about people like Dave Garroway, but also in preserving the things that remain. Some of those things are easy to preserve, like books and documents. Other pieces are a little more substantial, but still manageable. And then there’s some that require some effort. That’s what led to an adventure last week.

I’ve been friends with Bobby Ellerbee for several years, and on a few occasions I’ve visited him and his dogs at his home in Georgia. Over the years Bobby amassed a collection of television cameras that spanned a good half-century of the medium’s history. The first time I visited, two rooms were awash with just about every studio camera you could imagine, and his garage had just about enough surplus equipment to start a network.

Over the years, some of Bobby’s collection found new homes at museums or with film prop companies, but his camera room was still nicely populated. Recently, though, he bought a new house. It’s a nice house, but it doesn’t have the display area of the house he’s vacating. Bobby had to make some hard choices. To make a long story short, I got a phone call, and last week I rented a box truck and drove over to his house.

The more the truck filled up, the more I realized this was real, and I started to think about the two happiest days in the life of a boat owner.

In the space of about two and a half hours that Thursday, Bobby and three movers and I loaded four cameras and pedestals, a few boxes of equipment and books, and some other stuff we could put to work in our building. Bobby had told me to rent a truck with a lift gate, and it’s a very good thing I did. Camera pedestals are heavy. By 11 that morning the truck was loaded up and I was headed back home. I spent the afternoon and evening unloading the truck at the office, and that night I drove it back and reclaimed my car.1

The brave rental truck at the end of its travels with me. This was a happy moment, likely for both of us.

So, let’s see what we have.

Longtime readers will be familiar with this: the RCA TK-47. I already had one, but I certainly was not going to pass up another. Unlike mine, the internals of this one are still intact, and as I was cleaning it up I was interested to look inside.2 Bobby had installed vinyl lettering on either side to honor NBC’s flagship stations in New York and Los Angeles. Inside is a property tag from WISH-TV in Indianapolis. Part of me thinks it would be fitting to restore the WISH-TV livery, but I’m awfully fond of the genuine NBC stickers on there, especially since I associate the TK-47 with Saturday Night Live and David Letterman’s late-night NBC show.3 Fortunately, I’ve got a while to decide what to do.

A contemporary of the TK-47 is the Ikegami HK-312, which Bobby had decorated as an ABC camera of the 1980s. It’s appropriate, because ABC used Ikegamis a lot. The Ikegami doesn’t get recognized a lot but it was one of the workhorse cameras of its day, and you’ve watched a lot more television that was brought to you through these machines than you may realize. This particular one has some interesting labels inside about its history, and the box lens has an ABC property tag on it.

Now, here’s a rarity: a Marconi Mark VII. This one actually did belong to Tele-Tape Productions back in the day, which meant it spent a couple years at work in the early days of Sesame Street. What looks like sheet metal damage in the photo is really the reproduction logo, printed on vinyl, separating from the side of the camera. I’m going to replace that as soon as I can get the printing done (the design is pretty much done, but I just need to find someone who can print it to my specifications). In the meantime it’ll wear a rare and very interesting livery that a few Mark VIIs wore for a short period.

No, that’s not the pedestal they used under these when they were in service. Although, given their weight, you can sort of understand it.

And this stylish beast is the RCA TK-42. I’ve seen it described as RCA’s attempt to combine the color of the TK-41 with the sharpness of the monochrome TK-60. Unfortunately, ambition didn’t match execution and the TK-42 was not a hit. NBC itself really didn’t want anything to do with them, so TK-42s and TK-43s were often what brought local stations into the color era.4 The TK-42 was soon superseded by the great and durable TK-44. This one somehow made it to modern times, and even has the proper RCA pedestal and head most often seen beneath them. Unfortunately, it’s missing a few of its internals and has to be balanced with some weights inside, but from the outside you couldn’t tell. The black-and-gold RCA logo disappeared from the right side somewhere along the way, but a very helpful designer with a 3D printer was able to print up a replacement that looks just like it’s always been there, and I’m very happy.

We look much happier wearing the General’s lightning bolt. Now imagine how we’ll look once we’re back on our big ol’ pedestal and we can get a good all-over clean-up and shine.

There’s plenty left to do on these cameras. I’ve done some initial clean-up on them, but when I have time I want to give each one a good going-over to make them look as good as they can.5 There’s also a few things I may do as I find period-correct hardware for these machines. But all that’s down the road. Right now, what matters is that these old machines are safe in their new home, where young eyes will be able to see the equipment that helped make possible what they now take as a given.

Where have we been?

No, we haven’t disappeared, and we’re sorry if you think we have. The good news is that some good things have appeared during the lull. One of them is another episode of Garroway at Large, presented here for your enjoyment.

I’m hoping more are in the wings. These need to be preserved and seen, for it’s a glimpse at a fledgling medium spreading its wings (and even more time to spend with Our Dave in his pre-Today years, when he was at his most whimsical).

:: We may have been quiet here the last little while, but we have not been idle. One thing we’ve been working on is the next title from Tyger River Books, which published Peace. I’m happy to share that our second title (written by someone who is not me) will make its debut in May. The subject is another fascinating, multi-faceted person whose story had been lost to history for too long. I’ve read it (obviously) and it’s a great story you don’t want to miss. You can find out more about it here, and please keep an eye out for the book’s debut. It’s going to be something special.

Endings and beginnings

And here we are, as another year wheezes to its inevitable conclusion. I’ve thought sometimes about how the end of one year and the start of another is more psychological than anything; it’s not like the planet goes over a speedbump at midnight on New Year’s or anything like that, for life just goes on.1

Be that as it may, the last year has been eventful for the Garroway book project – at long last, the book got published in three delicious varieties, and it’s been well-received and some people have written and said some especially kind things about it, which has been gratifying. (And the book’s been published in time for the holidays, too. It makes a terrific gift. Just saying.)

What’s ahead for the Garroway project in 2024? Well, you’ve no doubt noticed our tempo here has eased; that’s the inevitable result of the book getting published, not to mention other projects demanding my attention. This website, however, is not going away any time soon, and as we discover new things we’ll share them here. I’ve learned from previous ventures in research that publication is sometimes just the beginning for new discoveries and adventures, and I feel there’s still new discoveries in the Dave Garroway story yet to come…and as I find them, I want to share them with you.

For instance, here’s ten wonderful minutes of excerpts from about this time in 1954. What better way to get ready for Christmas than a few minutes with our Dave, along with Arlene Francis2 and Betty White? Enjoy.

Thank you, 2023, for all you brought us. To the new year: please be kind and generous. And to all of you out there: thank you for being with us throughout this whole adventure. Stay tuned for more discoveries.

The hardest thing

NOTE: In this post I make mention of suicide. It is a difficult topic to write about and I realize some of you reading this may find it difficult to read about, and if it is troubling you may want to avoid this week’s post. Most importantly, if you are having thoughts of suicide, whether or not you are in crisis, there is help and there is hope. You can find help through the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Call or text 988 to get help.

You face a problem when you’re a biographer. It’s not unlike any movie you’ve ever seen that involves a dog as a major part of the story. You know how the story’s going to end, and you know it will probably break your heart. Both life stories I’ve written thus far ended abruptly. In the case of Ben Robertson, it was with a plane crash. In the case of Dave Garroway – and there’s no easy way to say this – it was suicide.

This is a hard topic to talk about, for many reasons. For some folks, it’s deeply personal. Maybe others have lost loved ones or neighbors or colleagues this way.1 In the case of Dave Garroway, it was something I knew I’d have to handle because of how I remembered the coverage of his passing in 1982. The more I learned, though, and the more I researched and the more I talked to people in the know, I found that it was nothing new in his life, and that it had been something on his mind for a long time before he finally did it. (Depression sucks, and depression can indeed kill.)

But even though it’s a horrible thing to talk about, I’m doing no one a service if I avoid the topic. My job is to report the bad alongside the good and great, not to burnish an image, because that’s public relations and not biography. My problem then becomes, how do I tell it? The way he went was not gentle, but I have to find a way to tell it without getting lurid.2 I also have an obligation to the Garroway family to treat it with sensitivity. The event was traumatic enough; the last thing I needed was to even accidentally inflict new trauma in the retelling.

I knew what the newspaper stories said about his last observed moments. But I had nothing in between the time his wife left the house to go to an appointment, and the discovery of his body. In my first draft, I wrote what seemed plausible as a sequence of events leading up to that last second, and I tried to write it with as much discretion as I could, because the reader could piece things together. But it just didn’t feel right somehow. Then, as will happen, I made a discovery that changed things.

One of my long-standing interests is aviation history and accident investigation. One specific long-standing interest is the crash of American Airlines Flight 191 in May 1979. It’s the first aviation disaster I remember in detail, and even though I was a child when it happened I was fascinated by the story and have been since.3

The Flight 191 disaster was especially painful for the staff of Playboy magazine, because four people affiliated with the magazine were killed in the crash. Out of the grief came an assignment to writer Laurence Gonzales to conduct an in-depth investigation of aviation safety in the United States. In June 1980, Playboy published the first part of Gonzales’ two-part investigation. All these years later, it remains deep and bracing reading, and I regret that it’s paywalled and hard to access, because it’s seriously good investigative reporting that is written so well.4

Gonzales was out there among the cops and firefighters and reporters and everyone else on the scene that horrible afternoon, and three months later he came back out to survey the scene once more. He began his report with a description of the scene three months post-crash, and made mention of strands of white electrical wire that still stuck through the mud in this field where nothing could grow.

As the first installment concluded, he briefly described a visit to the McDonnell Douglas factory in Long Beach, where DC-10s were being manufactured. He noticed the wire harnesses, with hundreds of miles of electrical wire in each aircraft, and felt there was something eerie about it. Then he realized why. The first installment thus ended with a callback to all those strands of wire still sticking out of the mud near O’Hare.5

And it’s from Gonzales that I got the idea of how to handle Dave Garroway’s final moments. When you read the book, you’ll recognize a similar callback. It allowed me to handle a horrible moment with, I hope, the best available sensitivity.

For that, I must credit Laurence Gonzales. Thank you, sir, for helping me get better at what I do. I’d like to shake your hand.

An evening with Santa Dave

A few years back I wrote about the 1954 and 1955 productions of “Babes in Toyland,” staged by Max Liebman with an all-star cast that, not incidentally, included our own Dave Garroway. In the spirit of the season, a kind soul has posted the 1954 production, and I present the link for your enjoyment. Be sure to catch all the inside jokes in Santa Dave’s conversations with his young friend (not to mention the “sweater girl” comment that was axed from the 1955 production after being criticized as too racy for young ears).

From all of us here, whatever you celebrate or observe, may it be wonderful, and may it be filled with…peace.

Time machines and buried ledes

It’s been busier than I’d like of late, and that’s where I’ve been. On the other hand, it means a lot of cool stuff has accumulated. Let’s begin with this image, which is from a large-format negative I recently acquired. It’s from December 7, 1954, and Dave’s expression captures what I’ve spent a lot of time feeling because of work.

Next up, check out this really cool interview with my friend (and collaborator) Brandon Hollingsworth on my friend Mitchell Hadley’s It’s About TV. The topic isn’t Garroway, but Brandon is always worth listening to and Mitchell’s blog is always worth reading.

Now let’s take a trip back in time: it’s 1958, and here’s a brief glimpse at the RCA Exhibition Hall. No glimpse of the Today set in its final months, alas, but it’s the Exhibition Hall and that’s worth checking out any time.

Finally, here’s a chance to see just how well I can bury a lede: at this link, you can get a glimpse of the image that will be on the cover of Peace: The Wide, Wide World of Dave Garroway, Television’s Original Master Communicator. (It’s also a chance for me to say that working with the estate of Raimondo Borea, and with Jon Gartenberg, could not have gone better or happier, and I gladly recommend both to you.)

Bob and Ray’s “Big Big Earth,” 1958

Some time ago we looked at MAD Magazine’s spoof of Today. Well, there was more – and it was the work of no less a pair of luminaries than Bob and Ray, who contributed to MAD in its early days. From 1958, here’s their take on Wide Wide World.

As a bonus, here’s a visit Dave made to Bob and Ray’s TV show shortly before Today made its debut.

:: We’re still here and we’re doing okay, incidentally. There just hasn’t been anything to report. The manuscript is still in the editing/review process, which from experience I know takes time. I also haven’t made many new discoveries, and even if I had, the day job keeps getting in the way. Good things are to come, and soon, I hope. Stay tuned.

Happy birthday, Dave! (And happy birthday, us!)

Today is a day that should be celebrated everywhere, with cake and ice cream for everybody, for it was on this day in 1913 that our beloved Dave Garroway was born. Not to mention, it was on this day in 2017 that this website was officially launched. It was a birthday tribute to Dave, a way of keeping his memory alive in a world where he’s so often been forgotten.

Five years ago, if you’d asked me if the book would be completed by now, I’d have told you that I hoped it would be, but it was a tall order. I’d love to get the James Webb Space Telescope to look back five years and tell me “yes, it will be.”1 The book is being proof-read; I’ll make whatever alterations are advised, and then it’ll be off for layout and the next steps, and of course I’ll say more about that when the time is right.

The end of the writing process is so much of why it’s been quiet here, but I thought we’d celebrate Dave’s birthday by taking a look at some favorite pictures I’ve accumulated over the years. For various reasons, none of these will be in the book2 but there’s no reason why we can’t take a few minutes here to enjoy them.

Happy birthday, Old Tiger.

The principals of the Chicago School pose for a family portrait. Our Dave is in a typically relaxed pose on the couch. (NBC photo)
Nearly two decades later, Garroway returns to the Chicago studio to appear in a special. (NBC photo)
A younger Garroway goofs around for the photographer in a Chicago studio. (NBC photo)
On top of the news in the RCA Exhibition Hall. (NBC photo)
My favorite photo that I couldn’t get for the book: daughter Paris visiting dad at work. (NBC photo)
Reviewing a “Dave Garroway Show” script with cast members Shirley Harmer and Jill Corey. (NBC photo)
Publicity shot for “Dave’s Place,” his November 1960 prime-time special. (NBC photo)
The lights down, another “Today” comes to an end. (NBC photo)

Rights, the right way

If you’ve never written a book…oh, are you missing out on fun. I don’t mean it just from how you’ll spend so much of your life looking for source material, hunting down obscurities, lining up interviews, getting cooperation and all other manner of hilarity. I mean it in that if you’re writing non-fiction, especially history or biography, you’re going to need illustrations.

Sometimes you’ll be fortunate. I certainly was with my last book, because Ben Robertson’s papers at Clemson University included a reasonable selection of photos. Since my publisher put a limit on how many photos I could have, and since the photos in the Robertson papers were a decent cross-section of his life, it wasn’t difficult. Better still, since Clemson held the rights to the photos, getting permission was easy.

I wish the same could be true for Dave Garroway. Yes, the Garroway papers at Wyoming have some photos, and I have secured high-resolution scans of several of them. I have Wyoming’s permission to use them, and that will suffice for a few. Dave’s daughter Paris has also gone through the family photos and unearthed some treasures, and I’m having her get those scanned at the resolution I need for the book. That only takes me so far, though. Some of the Wyoming photos, and at least one of the photos Paris has, have their rights managed by others, and I need permission from them. I also have several very nice NBC press photos I would like to use.

It ain’t this easy in a book. (NBC photo)

The temptation may be there to say “Okay, it’s a small-run book…take your chances. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.” That’s not how I work, though, at least not in print. Here on the blog, I’ll use low-resolution images and claim fair-use. (I’m certainly not making any money off this, for one, and I also try to keep the images small and give credit as I can.) For one thing, copyright is something I often talk about with my students. How would it look if I got in trouble for something I admonish them against? I won’t even get into how much it would cost me in legal fees and penalties and all that. Yech.

I could go through the big image brokers. If I could afford Getty Images, that would be super, because Getty has dozens and dozens of Garroway photos. I don’t have Getty Images money, though. Shutterstock has a smaller selection, but they’re good and they’re mostly different, and while the cost is lower (and though I may go that route if I strike out with the other things), it’s still a trifle dear.

At the moment, photo clearances are the major thing that keeps me from sending the manuscript in and beginning the process with my publisher. I have a contact who is trying to assist on the NBC photos, for one. And I have had some unexpected successes: one photo I dearly wanted to use still had its rights held by the Associated Press. I contacted AP and a very kind representative took up the case and worked out a very affordable rate. On top of that, the AP still had the negative, so the image you will see in the book will look as good as the day it was made.

There’s one more surprise, and I negotiated it last week. I’m not going to spoil the fun just yet, but the book now has a cover image. It was one I had never seen before, and I loved it the moment I saw it. I think you will, too. And it’s all thanks to a friend who put me in touch with the right person, and that right person was very happy to work with me to make it happen.

So there you are. As with any project, it all comes down to the items on the punch list, and the help of good people along the way. And maybe that’s the real value of a project like this.

“Today at 35,” 1987

On January 31, 1987 NBC gave over a prime-time hour so that Today could celebrate its 35th anniversary. As you’ll see, this is a fascinating special, particularly because of one feature.1

A word of warning: This is a very image-heavy retrospective. This special was fast-paced and used a lot of archival footage. I didn’t include everything I had wanted to include, because otherwise I’d still be editing photos this time next week. Anyway, here we go.

Hunter takes a detour tonight so we can help our friends at the Today Show celebrate a special anniversary.”2 This six-feathered version of the Peacock that we know so well? When this airs, it’s less than a year old.

We open with Jane Pauley and Bryant Gumbel, who just happen to be walking along 49th Street in front of the old Exhibition Hall. Gumbel points out where they are and how it was where Today began. “I think there’s a bank there now,” Gumbel adds mid-sentence, in that parenthetical way of his. Jane Pauley sets the scene for what television was like in 1952 – only 15 million sets in the whole country, with most viewership in the evenings, and the thought of an early-morning television show was unusual. “In fact, only 26 stations carried that first Today show,” she says.

The people on the sidewalk just keep passing by, paying no heed. There’s no way you could do this now, not when everybody wants to mug for the camera.

Then we go to a montage of classic moments, with a simple and very pretty rendition of “Sentimental Journey” in the background. And, sure enough, the first clip we see is J. Fred Muggs with Dave Garroway.

The focus in the opening montage is on lighthearted moments. You’d almost get the feeling Today was a comedy revue. The only really serious moment is Pope John Paul II holding hands and praying with Gumbel and Pauley. Then we dissolve to the dignitaries gathered for the evening, and the velvet voice of Fred Facey introduces the show.

“Welcome to Today at 35, and our family reunion,” Gumbel says, teeing up the introductions as being like a family album. We’re introduced to the returning family members with archival footage, followed by a shot of them in the studio. One neat touch is that the NBC logo appropriate for the start of their tenure is shown alongside their names.

The entire gathering was introduced in alphabetical order: Frank Blair, Tom Brokaw, John Chancellor, Hugh Downs, Betty Furness, Joe Garagiola, Jim Hartz, Florence Henderson, Jack Lescoulie, Lee Meriwether, Edwin Newman, Helen O’Connell, Betsy Palmer, John Palmer, Willard Scott, Gene Shalit, Barbara Walters, and Pat Weaver (“all of this is his baby – which he enjoys now from retirement,” Gumbel says). Jane Pauley and Bryant Gumbel round out the introduction.

“Our beginnings were humble,” Gumbel says, teeing up the obligatory clip of the first morning. “Dave Garroway and a staff of 35, working in a storefront with people looking in the window. The critics all laughed, and said it wouldn’t last even 13 weeks.”

I think there’s some kind of written regulation at NBC that they have to show this clip at least once in every special.

When we rejoin the present, Bryant Gumbel is sitting at a re-creation of the original set – “this is NOT the original,” he takes pains to point out.3

Gumbel is joined by Hugh Downs, Tom Brokaw and Frank Blair there to recount the early days of Today. Gumbel asks Blair if he felt like a pioneer. “Definitely,” Blair says. He noted that being up early and doing this unusual thing bound them together. Blair notes that producer Mort Werner was asked once what makes Today click: “It’s a matter of chemistry.”

Downs remembers being on the NBC staff in Chicago and watching the first Today program from the booth – “I was duly amazed, but I didn’t think people would be up tuning in.” Brokaw muses, “As I sit here thinking about it, these are my heroes! I was growing up out there in South Dakota, and television was truly my window on the world.” Downs remembers moments that, looking back, he called “golden.”

Garroway sits, bemused, as an entire marching band winds through the Exhibition Hall
…and watches a flea circus perform on the air.

Blair notes the program was criticized “when we brought the chimpanzee in,” but the reasoning was that kids would turn the program on to see the chimpanzee, and the parents would realize there was a news program going on. “So we all owe a great debt of gratitude to J. Fred Muggs…wherever you are,” Blair says with mock solemnity.

I guess I owe the little guy this much.

Gumbel asks all three if one appreciates Today more after you’ve left it. Brokaw is grateful for having done it; Downs makes a lighthearted but appreciative comment. It becomes clear that Frank Blair never really let go. “If I were younger, I would love to still be doing it. I would boot John Palmer right out of here and take over. But you reach a point of no return. You run out of fuel, and it’s better that a younger man has my job now.”

As they go to break, there’s a clip of John “Skid” Chancellor and Frank “Checkers” Blair running the first Today Show Grand Prix, a go-kart race inside the studio.

There’s a commercial. Soft piano. A woman’s voice, over shots of a bedroom: “Silk always makes me feel sensuous.” And when the woman in the commercial wears pantyhose that glistens like silk and feels like silk, “I feel wonderful…all over.”4

Then GM, in a Very Important Commercial, talks about its commitment to building better cars, culminating in a new six-year, 60,000-mile warranty “that tells you each and every GM car we build today is the best-quality, best-value GM car ever.”5

When we come back, Jane Pauley leads off a segment with Barbara Walters, mentioning her ascent from being hired by Dave Garroway as a writer to becoming co-host. There are clips of her interviewing dignitaries and statesmen and other VIPs…followed by the obligatory clips from a segment in which Walters went undercover at a Playboy Club in 1962, complete with the bunny costume.

Walters remembers the “bunny dip” used to serve patrons their drinks.

They segue into how Walters’ role evolved from writing women’s features to doing general features. Then there’s another clip, a 1965 segment where Walters spends an evening with the information telephone operators in the 50th Street office, and tries it herself, only to be greeted by the voice of Jack Lescoulie on the other end of the line.

Pauley asks Walters who she looked up to growing up. Walters replies that someday Pauley herself would hear young women say what Walters heard: “I grew up with you.”6 And Walters says she was very proud that when she left, Pauley took her place. “I think it’s a great credit to me that someone like you followed.”7

From there Pauley segues to talking about the role of the Today Girls. And four of them – Lee Meriwether, Helen O’Connell, Florence Henderson and Betsy Palmer – regale us with a cute song about what it was like and the people (and chimpanzee) they worked with, complete with more clips.

Edwin Newman is mentioned only in passing in this song, but I love this clip during the montage – from the end of a special he did long ago. He gives the NBC News disclaimer at the end, while taking a long-awaited bath, then squeezes the sponge over his head and lets out a satisfied sigh.

At the end, Jane Pauley comes over and has a little fun with how they sang her name. She then asks Bernie Wayne, who wrote the song and played the piano, to play a few bars of his most famous composition.

It turns out to be “There She Is, Miss America.” Which, of course, Lee Meriwether came to Today after her reign as Miss America, and there’s a moment of warm reminiscence. That’s promptly disposed of in the throw to break, with the famous clip of Harpo Marx8 chasing a Today Girl around the studio.

Then a bumper, with an RCA TK-11/31. Always a lovely thing to see.

Commercials: A UPS ad looks back on the company’s history through old black-and-white photos. Then lots of fast-paced, high-energy scenes of modern UPS operations. Lots of 727s and 747s. “We run the tightest ship in the shipping business.”

Great airplanes. I loved flying on 727s, back when you could. I miss them.

That’s followed by a commercial for a very personal thing women use. Somehow, clear blue liquid is supposed to demonstrate how effective it is. Right. (No, I’m not showing a picture.)

Then Ann-Margret and Claudette Colbert in “The Two Mrs. Grenvilles,” coming February 8.

“Sir, does this mean Ann-Margret won’t be coming?”

Followed by a Saturday Night Live promo with host Paul Shaffer being heckled by the Church Lady.

Back to the anniversary show, it’s time for a look at the entertainment greats that have been on Today. Some neat finds in the montage, including this exchange between George Gobel and Dave Garroway, when the entire morning’s show was done outside the studio:

Gobel: “The whole show? Out here in the street?”
Garroway: “Yep.”
Gobel: “Well, see now, that’s television for you. You know, just one bad week and you’re out.”

There’s also a glimpse of the famous/infamous “Caesar and Cleopatra” sketch with Jack Lescoulie and Jayne Mansfield.9

Gumbel is at the desk, this time with various occupants of the sidekick role: Willard Scott, Gene Shalit, Joe Garagiola and Jack Lescoulie.

The first anecdote has Lescoulie telling the story of the day Ava Gardner was supposed to be on Today, but didn’t show up. The quick-thinking Garroway summoned staff member Estelle Parsons to the desk. “You be Ava Gardner.” And Garroway conducted the interview. This dissolves into a discussion about how humor is tough to sell in the morning, which leads to playful bickering between Joe Garagiola and Gene Shalit. “Did you ever have hair?” Shalit asks. Garagiola replies, “I think you’re overdressed!” Without missing a beat, Willard Scott leaps up, his toupee in hand. “I think we can correct that!” And he plonks the toupee atop Garagiola’s head.

“This is the dignified Joe Garagiola look….”

…and then Willard turns the toupee. “Now here’s the Hippie Joe Garagiola look! Give him a guitar and watch him go!”

Lescoulie tells a story about a day he was late getting to the studio, and how in those days the tradition was to cut your tie if you made a mistake. Up against the segment clock, Gumbel asks Lescoulie to tell about the ring he wears.

It’s a duplicate of the one Garroway wore, Lescoulie says, and he gave it to him in 1953. “The inscription inside is typical Garroway,” he says, “And it says ‘To Jack from Dave, for being just what you are by the dawn’s early light.’ And I’ve worn it ever since.” Lescoulie then looks toward the camera. “And, old partner, thank you, and peace to you.”

There’s then a montage, introduced by Jane Pauley, about the versatile but lesser-sung members of the Today family.

The very first clip in the montage is the only glimpse you’ll get all night of the forgotten Jim Fleming.

Then there’s an interview with Betty Furness.

Betty mentions that she was a friend of Garroway’s10, so she watched the very first show, and when they began to have women on the show, she wanted to be on the show. “But nobody would talk to me!” She notes that she continued to be snubbed even after she was no longer doing commercials at CBS. What finally got her a role on Today was her work as a consumer reporter for WNBC-TV, and a chance meeting at the elevator with a Today producer led to a substitute hosting job. Then Gumbel crashes the interview11 to show a clip of Jane Pauley bogarting his cigar at a political convention a few years before.

Then more ads.

AT&T is going to combine computers and communications so we can get the right information to the right people at the right time. Reckon how that’s gonna work out?

Smart Cat. Ask any cat and they’ll tell you they’re smarter than humans, anyway.

A slow sweep of the newsroom on that first morning forms a neat bumper for the local throw.

Remington Steele is back! Tuesday!

Peak ’80s. (And, yes, Today did originate from Australia starting the following Monday.)

Back from the break, it’s time to talk about Important News, the big stories, the world leaders and presidents and aspirants and such who have stopped by. This leads in to a discussion with Barbara Walters, John Chancellor, John Palmer and Edwin Newman.

Chancellor starts the discussion with a self-deprecating joke about the montage that led the segment off.12 The comments from the panel speak of the influence the morning shows have gained, to the point that the White House kept track of the shows’ ratings and decided where to deploy their spokespeople accordingly.

Back at the 1952 desk, Jane Pauley takes note of the changes in technology, and notes that Today has featured new technologies right from the first day:

Garroway shows off a wirephoto machine on the first day. “We’ll show it to you mere minutes after it was taken. The print we show you will still be wet, but you won’t be able to feel it at home. I hope.”

Then Mufax shows the home audience grainy stills of the Queen’s coronation.

Hugh Downs and Jim Hartz join Pauley to talk about the change in technology, particularly in how microphones have grown tinier as time has passed. Downs predicts that at the rate they’re shrinking, microphones will disappear altogether in August 1991. Pauley disagrees: “No, I think it’ll be implants, Hugh.” They then discuss how Today has been around the world, buttressed with a quick montage of the many places the program has visited: Paris, Romania, Ireland, Tokyo, Rio de Janeiro, at sea aboard the liner s/s Norway. Jim Hartz suggests that the audience may have become jaded, because they have become accustomed to “whatever you can imagine, you can do.”

We go to commercial with a look out the old 49th Street window.

Other side of the TK-11/31. I want one.

A sentimental spot for Amtrak. “There’s somethin’ about a train that’s magic.”13 Followed by a spot for this new pain reliever called Advil.

“The ritual of Oil of Olay.” Get you some of this stuff and some of that silky pantyhose from the first half-hour, and you’ll be at full-blown Mystical Womanhood before you know it.

A really neat spot for college basketball, with live action giving way to animated pastel renderings. Really beautiful, really classy. I wish we still saw stuff like this today.

During a brief interlude Pauley, Gumbel and Scott talk about what it’s been like, with all the stories and anecdotes and good times. Willard notes, “Everybody really seems to like each other.”14 Then Pauley says they’ve been wondering what Today will be like in the future, so through the magic of computers, they’ve sent Mike Leonard ahead 35 years…to the year 2022. Yes. To this year.

So this is what this year is like. Where’s the Snake logo, then?

“The cameras are robotic. Just stick to the script,” a robotic voice tells Leonard. Well, we do have robotic cameras now, I guess. Anyway, in this version of 2022, there’s a cure for the common cold.15 And they’ll talk live with some of the moment’s biggest celebrities:

Pro football commissioner Jim McMahon

Veteran character actor Rob Lowe

And game show host Dick Clark.16

The news is sent through absorption. Commercials are two seconds long and subliminal. And weather forecasters can actually do something about the weather: as a robocam hovers nearby, a blizzard in Buffalo gets sent to Los Angeles.

But there’s time to look back to 70 years ago, when Garroway tried out Mary Kelly’s electric typewriter.

This compares to the “rather large” portable television of 1986.

“But give them credit…they knew what the future held.”

Yeah, they got that one right.

And in a disturbing twist, digital facsimiles of yourself can be sent anywhere around the world. Which leads to several Mike Leonards ganging up on him.

This disturbs him. “Because that’s what made the Today show. All the human touches.” Garroway pops in every now and again, a patron saint of the program’s humanity.

Especially as he roars at a telephone receiver.

Leonard’s had enough of this technological dystopia. “Send me back 35 years.”17 So he clicks together his ruby-studded shoes…only to be trapped inside a computer screen.

A more serious look at the future comes in a brief visit with Pat Weaver. “It’s good to be back,” Weaver says, “and particularly on such an auspicious occasion.” Weaver doesn’t think the future will be like Leonard’s fanciful journey. “It’ll still be people. But the future will change, a lot.” Weaver hopes the future will bring fulfillment of the first promise of broadcasting: that you can sit at home, in your comfortable chair, and be somewhere else in the world, at the push of a button and the speed of light. Although he’s disappointed that the promise has yet to be fulfilled, he is optimistic “that with the new technology that we’re getting, we will finally be able to be a world without privilege” – that it won’t require family connections or wealth or aristocracy to enjoy the best things there are. Gumbel reminds Weaver of something he wrote in 1952: that the goal was to enrich life and make the common man quite uncommon. “That’s right!” Weaver says. “Glad to see you’re still consistent,” Gumbel says.18

We go to break with Garroway using his long microphone cord like a whip, to the amusement of the crowd outside.

Willard does an Alpo spot.

Then Cousin Eddie as LBJ.19

As they say good night, they remember a couple of family members who have gone onward.

Frank McGee, who joined Today in 1971, “and before his death three years later, the quiet man from Oklahoma made a lot of new friends.”20

…and Dave Garroway. Gumbel closes: “We want to remember Dave Garroway tonight as we always remember him: on some weekday morning, sometime in the ’50s, in living black and white, slightly bemused by the world around him, and believing that a little whimsy never hurt anybody.”

“The environment you live in inevitably influences your personality…I wonder how ours is gonna get influenced, living as often as we do, many hours of the day, in this strange and unique room. This is the only room in the world like the one we live in. With many lights, and…I wonder if we’re gonna have lights growing out of our heads someday.”

It’s Garroway who sees us through the closing credits…and bids us good night, in his familiar way.