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.

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.)

The Chicago School lives on

Some time ago, we1 here at Garroway At Large World Headquarters received an inquiry. A group near Chicago was planning a Garroway tribute. There was only so much I could do from my far remove, but I was happy to help where I could, of course.

Last week, the result made its debut. Somehow a group of very talented and creative folks put together a live, hour-long tribute to Dave Garroway and the Chicago School, and it is pure enjoyment from beginning to end. It’s a wonderful tour through Dave Garroway’s life, the good stuff as well as the more serious stuff (handled with respect, thankfully), and along the way there are some neat tributes to some of his contemporaries. There’s an interview with a television historian, who gives the context for what we’re seeing. There’s some neat musical moments, including a duet about early television that’s just plain fun (and that itself would have been right at home on Garroway At Large).

Garroway, charmingly brought back to life.

The production has a handmade feel to it. You will notice there’s not that much about it that’s fancy. A time or two it reminded me, happily so, of a school play, which only adds to its charm and makes it feel that much more heartfelt. Not to mention, it’s right out of the Chicago School aesthetic. The real Dave Garroway didn’t mind showing you that there was a stagehand above the set responsible for the falling leaves in a musical number, or incorporating a boom mic into a sketch. In this tribute, you’ll see some equipment, and you’ll see other signs that “it’s a show.”2

I’ve spent the last five years working on Dave Garroway’s life story, and yet if you’d asked me to write a show about him, I could not have captured the man’s spirit any better than this delightful show did. These folks did their homework, and what a surprise and a joy it was to watch this presentation. And from what I know about the man, I can’t help thinking Dave Garroway would have felt very honored by, and very happy with, this tribute, too.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone remembers Dave Garroway.3 I wonder if, for all he took part in that shaped the medium as we know it, he will forever be a footnote. This wonderful presentation reminded me that some people do remember Dave Garroway, and why he must be remembered. To all of those responsible for this tribute, a heartfelt “thank you.”

Remembering Hugh Downs

ABC photo

This post is long overdue. It’s partly out of my own reluctance, because I have grappled with how to contain this man’s career in the space of a post – because the man was so good at so many different things. But maybe some of it had to do with how familiar he was. I imagined we would always have a world with Hugh Downs in it. He had been around forever, starting out at a local radio station in Ohio in 1939, moving into television in 1950 with WMAQ in Chicago, and finally calling it a career in 1999. And back in July, we lost him at the age of 99.

With Kukla and Ollie in Chicago. (NBC photo)

In those 60 years in broadcasting, Hugh Downs did everything. He was an announcer, billboarding a show about a little clown and a dragon and their human friend. He was right-hand-man to Arlene Francis on the Home show. He was Jack Paar’s sidekick. He hosted Today. He hosted a game show, narrated documentaries, did a series about the challenges and opportunities that come with getting older. He even composed music and recorded albums.

Being Jack Paar’s right-hand man made you prepared for anything. (NBC photo)

Then came a second act, when ABC hired him to host 20/20, which had suffered a disastrous debut.1 It was in that capacity I first really came to know of him, as the kindly man who introduced segments and talked with correspondents and informed us that they were in touch, so you be in touch. Downs’ steady presence as host helped the program feel (if you’ll pardon the expression) anchored. 20/20 would never have the hard edges of 60 Minutes, but Downs was perfect for 20/20‘s more populist mix of investigation and human interest.

Hugh Downs and Barbara Walters with Hugh Downs and Barbara Walters. (ABC photo)

I’m not going to go through the entire career of Hugh Downs here. It would take much too long, and you can read it elsewhere anyway.2 Instead, this remembrance is more subjective, because I remember him so well from all the years I watched him.

If you watched Hugh Downs you noticed how easygoing he seemed, how low-pressure he was, sometimes to the point of seeming sleepy. A spoof of 20/20 that ran in MAD Magazine during the period had Downs asleep at the desk in the final panel as Barbara Walters closed the program.3 It may have been easy to mock, but that low-key nature had much to do with why Downs wore so well. I teach my students that to be on television is to be a guest in your audience’s homes, and the moment you rub them the wrong way, they’ll show you out. Too often people on television forget this and they wear out their welcomes in a hurry. Hugh Downs knew this. He had a terrific ability to ration his wattage, to know how to be the host who knew how to keep a program going without becoming bigger than the show or its purpose, and to do it without wearing out the viewer. He had the ability to be interesting without being dominant.

Although not everyone was impressed. (ABC photo)

It helped that Downs was a man who had a genuine curiosity about so much. He was a perpetual student, always finding something new to learn or to be interested in or to read about or to visit. He learned how to scuba dive, how to fly airplanes, how to drive a race car, sailed his own boat across the Pacific. And for a time he was a teacher, too. He lived many lifetimes within the time of his life.4

If only they’d let him fly on the real thing. (ABC photo)

In thinking about the life and career of Hugh Downs, I’m struck by the similarities between him and Dave Garroway: both versatile broadcasters with a cool presence that wore well, especially on longer-form programs like Today (and it’s worth noting that when Downs took over Today after the John Chancellor experiment didn’t work out, more than one reviewer favorably compared Downs’s style to that of Garroway). Both of them were fascinated by so many interests and knew so much about so many things, and their knowledge informed the shows they hosted. On occasion I have wondered if Dave Garroway, had he the benefit of modern treatments for depression and other issues, might have been like Hugh Downs and likewise been able to make his career as long-lasting.

This much I do know, and it’s that Hugh Downs never lost his high regard for his friend Dave Garroway. Many years ago a friend was hoping to produce a documentary about Garroway, and one of the people he called on during his initial investigation was Hugh Downs. Not only was Downs happy to learn of the project, he offered to narrate it. Alas, the documentary never happened, and with it went the chance to hear Downs tell the story of his friend and colleague. It’s my hope, however, that they’re now reunited in the hereafter, maybe hanging around with Studs Terkel and Burr Tillstrom telling stories about the good old days in Chicago.

If there are morning shows in heaven, you know that with Dave Garroway and Hugh Downs at the anchor desk, it’s got to be worth watching.

Dave Garroway talks with Studs Terkel, 1975

One of the blessings of the Internet era is that many archives have opened up and a lot of material has become available. Today’s post is about one such archive, available for endless hours of enjoyment.

Maybe you know the name Studs Terkel from his books, such as Working or The Good War. Maybe you’ve seen him in the occasional film role. Maybe you’ve seen him pop up in documentaries. It doesn’t matter, because the man could do anything and, through his long life, often did. But he had a particular talent for conversation, the ability to talk to anyone about anything, which he parlayed not only into his best-selling books but also into a radio series on WFMT in Chicago.1

And, as it happens, our man Dave Garroway stopped in to talk with Studs one day in 1974. Dave and Studs had known one another since the late 1940s, both as up-and-coming disc jockeys, and subsequently as television stars in the Chicago School firmament (Dave on Garroway at Large, Studs on Studs’ Place). Thanks to the wonderful Studs Terkel Radio Archive2, you can listen to the two old friends talk about a number of things: broadcasting, jazz, race relations and more. Take about an hour and let yourself be entranced by a master communicator and a master conversationalist.3 (Then when you’re done listening to that interview, take a look at the other interviews available in this magnificent collection and enjoy them, too. There’s only about 5,600 shows to go through, so make some time.)

Dave Garroway, sports car enthusiast

Our second installment of rare Garroway footage1 involves his well-known love of sports cars. We’ve talked about this on the blog before, especially in terms of his beloved Jaguar. Garroway was a keen amateur racer, particularly in the late 1940s and early 1950s. But even though he put aside racing as a driver, he never lost his love for watching car races and supporting the sport through other means.2

Here is some rare footage of a sports car race at Andrews Air Force Base (yes, that one)3 in the 1954 season, probably the President’s Cup race. This 20-minute silent film is a feast for sports car lovers, but of interest to us here is who you start to see about 17 minutes in, and then popping up at the end to interview the winning driver.

Please enjoy this trip to a different time.

“The Man Who Came To Breakfast,” 1953

Some years ago I made reference to a 1953 Esquire article by Richard Gehman. This article captured what it was like when Today was young and everything seemed brand-new, and cast and crew were coping with life at an hour that still seemed far too early for television. Back when I wrote about it, the best I could do was give you a summary of the article, for the Esquire archive was paywalled.

Happily, the Esquire archives are now open to one and all, as I discovered while looking for something else last week. It is therefore my pleasure to present to you “The Man Who Came To Breakfast,” so you may enjoy Richard Gehman’s unique take on early Today for yourself. Please enjoy.

Kukla, Dave and Ollie

I’d imagine we are all feeling spent in too many ways to count, with so much going on that’s been terrible or that otherwise has just left a sense of gloom around. I certainly am, and that’s in part why there was no post last week. So this week I thought we could do with a little whimsy, courtesy of some friends who always cheer me up.

Burr Tillstrom and Oliver J. Dragon with our Dave. (NBC photo)

I’ve written on here before about Kukla, Ollie and the Kuklapolitan Players, their friend Fran Allison, and the gentle world created by Burr Tillstrom. And since Kukla, Fran and Ollie originated from NBC in Chicago, it meant they were never far from some people we consider dear, including Studs Terkel, Hugh Downs1 and our own Dave Garroway. Our Dave sometimes dropped in to visit the Kuklapolitan Players, and fun ensued.

But what prompts this post – aside from the need we all have for a little whimsy – is the happy news that the Burr Tillstrom Copyright Trust is uploading the surviving episodes of KF&O to a YouTube channel, one episode per day. Having fallen in love with the show thanks to the DVDs released a few years ago, this was terrific news. But what makes it even more fun is that our Dave is in a few of these episodes. Here, for instance, he narrates and referees a boxing match between Cecil Bill and Fletcher Rabbit.

Then, in an episode no doubt dear to Dave’s heart, he gets to teach the Kuklapolitans a little about astronomy.

There’s lots of fun on the Kukla, Fran and Ollie channel, so go check it out. And if you’ve never watched the show before, give it an episode or two. Chances are it’ll put a spell on you.2

Garroway in Animagic

It’s again the time of year when the holiday specials come out – and I say “holiday specials” because we not only have the ones that are explicitly Christmas specials, but we also have specials that are more generically about the time of year itself. And all of us have our favorites – for me, unless I watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, as I have nearly every year I can remember, something just doesn’t feel right.

But in a class by themselves are the Rankin/Bass holiday specials. Probably the best-known and most beloved of these is Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. (I’ll bet you’re hearing that whistling beep of Rudolph’s nose as you read this.) You might also remember Frosty the Snowman, another Rankin/Bass holiday tradition. But those two weren’t all of the Rankin/Bass holiday specials: there was also Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town and The Little Drummer Boy, among others. And then there are some that aren’t as well remembered (see, for example, Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey. Here’s a handy list of some of the lesser-known Rankin/Bass holiday efforts).

And, believe it or not, there was even one that involved someone we know and love here.

On December 13, 1979 NBC broadcast a new Rankin/Bass production, Jack Frost. The hour-long stop-motion special told the story of the mythical winter character. As tended to happen, the production featured celebrity voice talents. Buddy Hackett provided the voice of Pardon-Me-Pete, the groundhog who narrated the story. Animation voice mainstays Paul Frees and Don Messick also contributed. The great Robert Morse (hi there, future Bert Cooper!) provided the voice of Jack Frost himself.

As the film begins, reporters and television crewmembers are waiting for the world’s most famous groundhog, Pardon-Me-Pete, to see his shadow. And who might that reporter be anchoring the live coverage?

Why, yes, it’s Dave Garroway himself – in Animagic form.

But Pardon-Me-Pete has other ideas. To tell you more would start to spoil some surprises, so let’s move ahead just slightly. Let’s just say that devoid of a story, Animagic Dave pauses to buy some chestnuts from a local vendor…and as he’s making the transaction, Jack Frost stops by and touches him on the nose.

It isn’t much – we just see Garroway for the first few minutes, and after the opening titles Pardon-Me-Pete takes the story from there. But it’s neat seeing our friend again, and on his old network, no less. By his voice inflection, he’s having some fun. At least one television columnist at the time was happy to see him, too.

Jack Frost is lost in the shadows of the better-known Rankin/Bass efforts, and it seems to be one that people either love or dislike – as you read contemporary commentary on it, there’s not much in-between. But it has seen some love in recent years, including the 2008 issue of a restored print on DVD (so easy to find that…aw, heck, just search for it and you’ll find it for sale at a hundred places). AMC has also been showing it as part of the “Best Christmas Ever” programming block. If you’ve never seen it, take some time to check it out. It’s unusual, but it has a charm all its own – and certainly, you’ll love our friend’s little cameo.

For anything and everything you’d ever want to know about the world of Rankin/Bass, let me refer you to the website of Rankin/Bass historian Rick Goldschmidt. Check it out – but be prepared to spend a lot of time there, because there’s so much there, and it’s so much fun, and Rick knows the topic inside and out, so you can’t miss.

:: And with this post, all of us at Garroway at Large World Headquarters hope whatever you celebrate this time of year, may it be full of love, togetherness and fulfillment of the most meaningful kind.

And, of course…peace.

It could happen to any of us…

…but it’s especially embarrassing when you’re a highly-regarded young announcer who’s only a few weeks into your new gig as a director of special events broadcasts for a large radio station.

And it’s even worse when it involves a local hero. As the Pittsburgh Press of July 14, 1939 was not about to let our Dave Garroway forget.

You can see more about the July 13, 1939 Billy Conn-Melio Bettina match here.

:: Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!