Category: Dave’s children

The things that matter most

You spend years working on a project and you learn a lot of things. There are times you look at what you’re doing as a fun challenge. Other times you look at the project as a goal to be met. Other times, you curse the day you took the project on and wonder if you’ll ever get it finished. On a handful of occasions you want to assume a new identity and pretend the project never existed.

If you’re lucky, though, the day comes when you realize the project has given you gifts beyond what you ever imagined, and you’re thankful you decided to follow the path. You get to meet some interesting people, go new places, see new things, have new experiences. If you’re lucky and if you keep the right mindset about it, the project becomes this amazing adventure. Maybe not something on the order of an Indiana Jones adventure, of course, but one that’s fun and fulfilling and exciting in its own way.

And if you’re really lucky, you make friends. I have already. It’s how I met Brandon, who has been with me on this project since long before the website began. It’s how I came to know Mitchell and Judie Hadley, and how I came to know Carol Ford and Dennis Hart and some other genuinely good people who have added so much color and fun to my life.

Sometimes, though, you can’t believe who you get to know. I’m presently working through that right now, because two weeks ago I had the privilege of spending a few days visiting Dave Garroway’s daughter Paris. She’s retired to a sunny part of the American West, and there’s lots of cool things to see and do out there. Although we’d talked on the phone every so often, we hadn’t seen each other since 2018, and it was therefore a lot of fun to have the chance to be together again.

It was a long trip there by air, and it wasn’t helped by bad weather complicating my connection at O’Hare, and then turning my connection at Denver into a sprint through a busy concourse.1 One bumpy flight over the Rockies later, I was there, and there was Paris waiting for me at the airport.

We packed a lot into our time together. There was a road trip or two, some hiking, a wine tasting, some photography in some of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in the Lower 48, some really good meals together, visits with her friends and members of her family. And, of course, we talked about her life and her memories of her dad, and we also reminisced about dear Dave Jr. What mattered most of all, though, was the time we shared talking to each other as friends. We weren’t a biographer and the daughter of the biographer’s subject. We were two women sitting on the back porch, watching the sun set while we had some good wine and listened to some fine music, talking about life and what had gotten us here and what we’d learned along the way, sharing insights and hard-earned wisdom from our lives, because both she and I have had some adventures along the way.2 There were moments when we laughed, other moments when I felt my eyes get a little damp, but all of it was good. And, too soon, it was time to come home. It was time well spent.3

All too often it’s easy to think of a book project as this clinical, self-contained thing. It’s not. If you do it properly, you are essentially absorbing another person’s life story into your own life. That’s why you have to be careful to choose someone it’s easy to live with, because the subject of that book is going to be very, very close to you for however long it takes. And, beyond that, the people who were special to that person are probably going to become names you will come to know and sometimes care about. They become part of that story within your life, too.

But if you are extraordinarily lucky, some of those people will become part of your own life, and although you met them because of their relationship to the subject of your project, the relationship you build with them becomes independent of that. That’s certainly what happened here, and that friendship is one of the true blessings of this whole project.

I have so much to be thankful to Dave Garroway for. Most of all, I’m thankful to him because through this project, so many neat people became part of my life. That’s maybe my biggest piece of advice for anyone who wants to be an author or researcher. Keep your eyes, ears and heart open, because the chances are good that this whole enterprise is going to change your life in unforeseen, and often wonderful, ways.

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)

Remembering Dave Garroway Jr.

I have never talked much on this blog about my dealings with members of the Garroway family. There are reasons for this. One is that I respect their privacy. It took a while for me to establish contact – they weren’t exactly easy to get hold of, and I believed that was for their own reasons, and I have a great deal of respect for that. Heaven only knows how many times over the years they’ve been contacted by various people who had some idea for a book or some other project, or some other reason involving their famous relative.

It’s a long story that involves connections that helped make connections, but in 2018 I had success in making contact with two very important people in Dave Garroway’s life, his daughter Paris and his son Dave Jr. From the very first time we talked on the phone, Dave Jr. was open, friendly, full of stories and memories that he freely shared.

As it happened, they were on the East Coast to see after some family business a few months later, and they wanted to meet with me. They drove down and spent a weekend in town, and to say it was a marvelous time is an understatement. Of course, hearing them tell stories about their dad, and seeing the photos and artifacts from the family’s collection, was a lot of fun. What I didn’t anticipate was that we would have fun just being together for lunch and talking about anything and everything. For my part, it was a chance to show them how seriously I took this project, and that I was going to see it through with dignity and respect.

That weekend passed too quickly, but every few weeks I would get a phone call from Dave Jr. If it was 15 minutes, it was a long conversation. Part of it was to check in on how the book was coming, and inevitably he would mention a story or two about his dad. But he would talk about other things he was doing. He might be about to work on one of his alternative-energy projects, or he might be about to take his van on a long road trip to see sights and visit friends, or he might be off to do something else. It was whatever was on his mind at that moment, in a sort of stream-of-consciousness style, but always with some mirth beneath.

Dave Jr. was very much a free spirit. He just plain thought differently. He had interesting views on science and the world. He developed scientific theories that he presented about, and hoped to turn into published works.1 It was not difficult at all to see his dad in him: not only the facial resemblance, with the eyes and the prominent chin, but the same fascination with figuring out how the world works. He was very much his father’s son.

Dave Jr. presenting at a 2017 conference. (Dave Garroway Jr. collection)

Over time, whenever the caller ID on my phone would light up with his number, it came to feel like hearing from a favorite uncle, the uncle who’s always working on something and has that goofy sense of humor and that slightly askew view of the world, but whom you love because he’s so much fun to share time with. And “boring” is a word I will never use to describe Dave Garroway Jr.2

I had great hopes for the year 2020. It was the year I was going to get out to see Dave and Paris, have long conversations with them, get some additional material for the book, and sift through family photos and scan the most interesting ones for the book. But then came the pandemic, and we had no idea just how serious it was going to be. As it grew worse I had no appetite to travel, nor any desire to put myself in a situation where I might unwittingly inflict a killer virus on someone.3 But even with travel plans out the window, I still had a mountain of material here to work with. Much of it was thanks to Dave Jr., who had not only accumulated a lot of archival material, but many years before had started writing out stories about life with his dad. They are very special stories – some of them heartwarming, some of them hilarious, one or two of them heartbreaking, but all of them provide a view of Dave Garroway that has never been presented.

For a long time I labored through all this material – organizing, then stringing things together into a narrative, much of it done in the wee small hours of morning before getting ready for work. The deadline on the agreement I had with Dave and Paris was that the manuscript would be complete by December 31, 2020. When my teaching duties ended for the Fall semester, I went at it full-bore.4

On the evening of December 25, as we watched A Christmas Story on the annual marathon, I was making final touches to the draft, preparing to export it as a PDF to send to Dave Jr. for review. The phone rang. It was Dave Jr., wishing me “a happy and a merry,” and he asked how the book was going. I informed him that he was about to get the completed first draft. My goodness, I wish I could bottle the joy that was in his voice when I told him. It was a Christmas gift unlike any other, both for me and for him. For many years he had wanted his dad’s story told. Now it was going to happen. That night, I sent him the file.

A couple weeks later I got a call from Dave Jr. He had received the file, had a couple copies printed, and was about to go through it with his sister. We talked about a few other things in our usual breezy manner, and then he said he’d be back in touch once he had done some additional reviewing. Good enough.

On January 29 I had come home after spending the morning on an errand. I was taking it easy after lunch. The phone rang. It was Paris. That was unusual, but I was delighted to hear from her. I was stopped cold when she told me that Dave Jr. had died. I knew from our conversations that he had endured a few health issues over the years, but he had seemed reasonably hale and hearty in our conversations. But now, he was gone. It sent me areel.

It has taken me close to a year to write this. I feel badly that it has taken this long. Part of why I haven’t written this remembrance until now is because I wanted to give the family some time to grieve and to deal with it all. Part of it was my belief that it wasn’t my news to share.5 But part of it was that I lost a friend, and maybe this delay was because I needed some space of my own, because it hurt a little to think about it. I came to know Dave Jr. because of my work on his dad’s life story, but I grew fond of him because he was just so much fun to have in my life.

A few years ago in a podcast series about a racer who was killed in a plane crash,6 one of his associates said his friend’s sudden passing was a reminder to “love ’em all you can, while you can.” Sometimes it takes that unexpected phone call to remind us how precious each word, each hug, each gesture can be – the regret that sometimes we take the people in our lives for granted, the reminder never to do so because in a blink of an eye they can be gone.

I didn’t know Dave Garroway Jr. that long – only a little less than three years – but what an unforgettable three years, and what an unforgettable character to have in my life. And how much do I miss those goofy, fun calls from my uncle Dave.7

Inauguration, 1961

Today a new president takes the oath of office.1 Sixty years ago today a new president2 took the oath of office, and Dave Garroway and Today were there to cover the impending transfer of power.

NBC photo

Here’s Dave talking with Sen. Mike Mansfield, Sen. Everett Dirksen3, Rep. Charles Halleck, and Rep. Sam Rayburn.4 At right is Martin Agronsky of NBC News.

 

NBC photo

Here Dave is interviewing Pat McMahon, who was a member of the PT-109 crew. McMahon was badly burned in the aftermath of the accident and unable to swim. His commanding officer, John F. Kennedy, saved his life. McMahon and Garroway are standing in front of the Kennedys’ house in Georgetown.

 

NBC photo

Dave has a cup of coffee and shares a laugh with Joseph Donahue, chairman of the inauguration parade committee, and Maj. Gen. Charles K. Gailey of the Military District of Washington. Kennedy’s inauguration was famously chilly, so I hope there was a lot of hot coffee available all around.

 

NBC photo

Dave during a break in the program, framed against the Capitol’s pillars.

 

NBC photo

Dave in the seating for the inauguration parade outside the White House. Here you can see just how deep the snow was prior to the 1961 inauguration. We won’t get that this year, alas.

 

NBC photo

And here’s Dave visiting the big reviewing platform where the new President would watch the parade. He’s standing with a couple of very special people. Who might they be? Let’s take a closer look…

NBC photo

…and look who it is! It’s Dave with daughter Paris and stepson Michael, who accompanied him to the inauguration. What a memory to have, no?

Get lost!

After the past few months, curbing how much we go out or canceling travel plans or doing whatever we need to do to stay safe, I think all of us have a pretty pronounced case of cabin fever. I know it’s bitten me pretty hard of late. It hasn’t been helped any when I look back on the calendar and remember it was three years ago this week I went to the Mid-Atlantic Nostalgia Convention for the first time. It gets even worse when I remember it was two years ago this week I was there, gave a presentation with my friend Kevin Doherty, met up with some great people I’d befriended the year before (Mitchell, Judie, Carol…I’m looking at y’all). And along the way, what started out as a fairly straightforward trip to Maryland for a conference got altered by a hurricane, and I ended up having the most unexpectedly amazing adventure, beyond anything I could have set out to do.

So with all that going on, and all those memories, it’s awfully tempting to throw my cares to the winds, throw a few things in a bag, get in the car and head for the mountains or something. But that’s not yet a good idea. The day will come when it will be safe to do so again, and it will be Good indeed. But instead, I’ve stayed here, done my work, and I’ve begun the long (but, thankfully, swiftly-moving1) process of taking all those newspaper clippings and extracting the vital information from them. All to bring you, the reader, the most thorough treatment of Dave Garroway’s life and times that I can. Because I care.

And it happens that one item I’ve recently written about in the draft has something to do with throwing cares to the winds, loading up the vehicle and heading out. Only, in Dave’s case, more so.

After he left Today, Dave set out to be the best dad he could be, and he was especially fond of spending time with his youngest child, Dave Jr. In 1965, Garroway told a reporter about something that his son called “Get Lost.” The elder Garroway owned a Chevrolet Greenbrier van, which he enjoyed because the utilitarian vehicle gave him some anonymity, and it also doubled as a handy camper van.2 And sometimes they took advantage of that latter function. The two Daves would load the Greenbrier with a supply of food and other necessities, sometimes pack a Questar telescope, and then get in. Dad would give Junior a map and tell him to get them “as thoroughly lost as possible.” And fun would ensue. “In ten minutes, we really are lost,” Garroway told the reporter.

Dave and Dave Jr. in 1966

Sometimes Dave Jr. would find a road that looked interesting and direct his dad to follow it. Other times, he’d tell his dad to follow a truck or go down a random road. Sometimes Dave Jr. would be so thorough that they couldn’t figure out how to get out; they’d have to backtrack. Decades later, Dave Jr. remembered how they would often end out spending the night out in the countryside, eating soup from cans and looking at stars through the Questar. Sometimes, if it got really late and they couldn’t find a place that looked like a good camping spot, they might check into a motel.

The getaways provided valuable father-son bonding time. And for Garroway, it provided something else. “We spend the weekend in complete anonymity. People go right by your face without recognizing you when you are in a situation that is unexpected.”

Here’s to the day – and let’s hope it’s soon – when we, too, can have getaways of our own, and build new memories. (Just try to remember how to get out of where you end up.)

A priceless response to a miracle

As we’ve gone through this present health crisis, historian that I am at heart, I’ve often thought about various scourges from the past and the effects they had on people in those days. One in particular has come to mind on several occasions, and for as much as I may have overdosed on back issues of Life magazine and started having idle daydreams about life in the 1940s and 1950s, all it takes is the mention of one particular affliction to make me come back to the present. And it’s that terrifying affliction1, and the miracle that helped end its reign of terror, that figures into a story Dave Garroway never tired of telling on television programs or sharing in interviews – because it was a story that drove home just how meaningful a miracle it was.

One evening in the 1960s2 Dave was getting ready to go to a testimonial dinner for Dr. Jonas Salk. Young Dave Jr.3 asked his dad where he was going.

“To a dinner for Dr. Salk,” Garroway replied.

“Who’s Dr. Salk?” Dave Jr. asked.

“He’s the man who found the vaccine for polio.”

“What’s polio?”
—
May the day come, and may it be soon, when children will ask the same about our current scourge – and so many other health afflictions we have yet to conquer.4

Lost Garroway: “The CBS Newcomers,” 1971 (Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1.)

There was hope on the eve of Garroway’s return to television. “It’s good to have Garroway back with us,” said writer Tom Riste. “This man has too much talent to languish on the sidelines.” Cecil Smith of the Los Angeles Times wrote of watching a dress rehearsal of The CBS Newcomers, being impressed by the young talent on display, but finding that “the glue was Dave.” Smith watched Garroway close the show with a story about telling Dave Jr. a few years back that he was headed to a banquet to honor Dr. Jonas Salk. Dave Jr., who was ten when the story took place, didn’t know that name, so Garroway explained that Salk discovered the polio vaccine…only to hear Dave Jr., who had never known the dread that word once posed, ask “What’s polio?” Garroway then raised his hand and gave his familiar “peace” benediction. “It’s good to have him at large again,” Smith wrote. Others took a wait-and-see attitude. “Comedians, singers and a choral group perform, and if it looks a little like Laugh-In, they’ll probably deny it,” went a preview in the Sioux City Journal.

Garroway with “Newcomer” Peggy Sears (CBS photo)

As the show began, Garroway looked into the camera with a smile. “My name is Dave Garroway. Do you remember?” (As writer Don Freeman put it, that question wasn’t a mere gimmick for the show: “In television terms, nine years is nine eons.”) He continued, “I did my first show in 1948, and here I am tonight – a newcomer. But it’s a kick being here even if some of the newcomers weren’t even born when I was doing TV in Chicago. That was a long time ago, back when Ed Sullivan was just one of the kids on Juvenile Jury.”

Freeman praised Garroway’s return to television. “If the performers here are only recently out of the ranks of the amateurs, Garroway is the epitome of easygoing professionalism, a sure-handed master of the subtle intimacies of the medium.” He held out hope that the performers would “wear well,” though hoped the writing “will gain in sharpness and believability.”

But The CBS Newcomers fell flat with other reviewers. UPI television writer Rick DuBrow said that while there was “some pleasant talent exposed here and there,” the overall feeling was entertainment “of such an ordinary caliber – with several disastrous acts thrown in” that he found it hard to believe the claims CBS had made of an extensive national search. DuBrow also didn’t care for “the awful cuteness of the show as put together by the pros who should know better. Poor Garroway, along with the youngsters, was victimized by the foolish and self-consciously cute dialogue.” The one bright moment DuBrow saw for Garroway was when he was given a few minutes to talk, in classic Garroway form, about fountain pens and how they were an old-fashioned contrast to a world in which so much was disposable. “Perhaps it wasn’t a great Garroway dialogue,” he wrote, “but it did allow him to be himself, and it was miles ahead of the caliber of the rest of the hour.” Overall, however, DuBrow felt CBS had spent all this effort to find new talent but constrained them within an old format with corny jokes. “It was a visualized generation gap,” he wrote.

Steve Hoffman of the Cincinnati Enquirer called it “a bomb” that “never even got to the stage of fizzling. This hour has to be one of the worst I have seen on TV since moving to this desk 22 months ago.” Not only did Hoffman say the show “fumbled and bumbled” with talent that was “mediocre at best” and a format that was “an Ed Sullivan show in slow motion,” but he was especially disappointed by Garroway. “If you expected an erudite Garroway, you got blah. Only in the show’s opening did Dave show any of that academic charm that won him a tremendous following on NBC-TV’s Today show. He turned out to be another Major Bowes or Ted Mack by the end of this hour.” Hoffman was especially disappointed that Garroway let himself fall into trite interviews with the new talent. “‘How did you react when you heard you would be on the show?’ That got to be a sickening line of conversation.” On the whole, Hoffman likened the program to “a game of checking the clock to see how soon the misery would be over. Instead of entertainment, it was like sitting in your dentist’s chair.”

Judy Bachrach of the Baltimore Sun was even less impressed, calling it a “stuffed turkey” that left her speechless. Not only did she find the talent unsatisfactory (“either something is gravely wrong with present-day talent or something is gravely wrong with CBS talent scouts”), but she singled out Garroway, who “should know better. He started being gravely wrong when he launched into the achingly predictable me-a-newcomer??? jokes. He followed those up with a deadpan recitation of the lyrics to ‘We’ve Only Just Begun.’ And the lyrics to ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ chanted in Garroway alexandrines take second place in meaning, depth and scope only to ‘Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.'” Nor did she care for Garroway showing the audience his trick of folding a $20 bill into a triangle: “My Uncle Paul used to do similar things with nickels at cocktail parties. Generally he was never invited again. Definitely nobody paid him for it.”

Two weeks into its run, rumors circulated that the CBS brass hadn’t been overly impressed with the program. Garroway expressed hope the show might catch on as a midseason replacement after its scheduled run. “I don’t know our chances,” he told writer Cynthia Lowery, “but they are keeping the costumes and scenery intact, which should mean something.”

The program experimented with different things. While many comedy shows featured sketches called “black-outs,” The CBS Newcomers tried something called “light-ups,” which reversed the principle. A segment introduced a couple weeks in, spoofing “man on the street” interviews, had Garroway asking members of the Good Humor Company questions in the style of Fred Allen’s “Allen’s Alley.” And on the final episode in September, Garroway even joined in what was termed “a comedy-and-music romp.”

Minneapolis Star critic Forrest Powers wrote that The CBS Newcomers “was based on the results of a nationwide talent search. If that’s all the goodies they found, we’re in real trouble.” Colby Sinclair of the Orlando Sentinel said The CBS Newcomers “was so bad the first week I returned again and again, hoping to see the reason for the production. I never did.” To Sinclair, “the show served one purpose. It put new life and hope into every third-rate performer in the country who, after viewing the talent selected to entertain, must have been certain that they were better than anyone on that program. For the most part, these kids need to be returned to a merciful oblivion.” Instead, Sinclair saw something in the “off-beat” charm of a variety show CBS had tried out, hosted by a couple named Sonny and Cher. Though “Sonny makes me so nervous I can hardly bear to watch him,” Sinclair had kind things to say about Cher, and praised the writers for “refreshing ideas.”

As it turned out, the off-beat charm of Sonny and Cher resonated with viewers, and CBS picked it up for a successful three-year run. Not so fortunate were the Newcomers, and soon the sets and costumes, the signs of Garroway’s hope the show would be picked up, were disposed of. Garroway would try a few more times in coming years to pitch ideas to broadcasters, but aside from the occasional guest appearance, The CBS Newcomers was Garroway’s last network hurrah.

SOURCES:

  • Judy Bachrach, “TV Notes: Rendered Speechless By CBS’s Newcomers,” Baltimore Sun 13 July 1971, 17.
  • Don Freeman, “On CBS Newcomers, Unknowns Get Crack at Tube,” The Daily Courier (Connellsville, Pa.), 24 July 1971, 15.
  • Steve Hoffman, “Did You See The Worst Show on TV?” Cincinnati Enquirer 13 July 1971, 17.
  • Forrest Powers, “TV ‘Freeze’ Drives Him Up Ladder,” Minneapolis Star 6 September 1971, 25.
  • Tom Riste, “CBS To Offer 10 New ‘Stars,'” Arizona Daily Star (Tucson, Arizona), 12 July 1971, 27.
  • “Shows to Watch,” Sioux City Journal 11 July 1971, 32.
  • Colby Sinclair, “Fall Season Has Only Just Begin,” Orlando Sentinel 19 September 1971.
  • Cecil Smith, “Garroway-Hobin Reunion Sparks the CBS Newcomers,” Los Angeles Times 11 July 1971.
  • “TV Tonight,” Dayton (Ohio) Daily News, 6 September 1971, 40.

A Christmas prayer

A couple months ago, Dave’s daughter Paris gave me a little souvenir, a tiny envelope and acknowledgment card that her dad would send out. It was a curious little item, but it was pure Dave Garroway, and beautiful in his understated way:

At this time of year, as we all come together, I can’t think of a more appropriate sentiment. Whatever you observe or celebrate, may it be the best you can make it.