Dave’s life – Garroway at Large

A birthday present: “Dave Garroway’s 11:60 Club Favorites”

Happy birthday to Dave…and to us! Nine years ago today, this website made its debut, prompted by a vague notion about a year before that I wanted to write a book about Dave Garroway. Back then, there was no book; only a vague notion of one. The great adventure was about to begin. We’ve accomplished an awful lot, made some great friends, made some priceless memories along the way. Most of all, though, we finally gave Dave Garroway the biographical treatment that was long overdue him. I hope we did it with wit, candor, honesty and dignity.

Just because the book is done, though, doesn’t mean the Garroway adventure is over. I’m not posting here as much as I once did, because I’m on to other projects, but sometimes I’ll find something that’s too good to pass up. Thanks to an alert from Brandon, I’m able to bring you one for Dave’s birthday today.

Long ago we discussed The 11:60 Club, Dave’s late-night music program over WMAQ in Chicago in the immediate post-war years, which was his big break. As Garroway’s star rose, The 11:60 Club picked up sponsorship. One of his biggest supporters was Hudson-Ross, a Chicago home appliance store that carried the latest records. Garroway often made personal appearances at Hudson-Ross, and served as emcee when recording artists would visit the store.

An April 1947 Hudson-Ross ad not only promotes “The 11:60 Club,” but works a Garroway mention into the sales pitch for Frankie Laine.

Garroway was so influential as a disc jockey and salesman, and his relationship with Hudson-Ross so good, that the store did a limited-run collection of Garroway’s favorites, collected in an album. I think I’d run across a mention of it in my research, but hadn’t seen one. That is, until Brandon notified me that one was up for sale online, and in beautiful condition. Well, my arm only required so much twisting, and a week and a half later a large box was here. Inside, packed very carefully (because records from this era are fragile), was what we’re about to see.

And here it is. You’ll recognize the cover portrait as his official 11:60 Club photo. But the fun is inside:

Dave provides a 1948 version of liner notes. Up top, Dave talks about how the four featured songs are favorites that he’s played often but haven’t been widely available for a while, at least until Hudson-Ross persuaded the record labels to do a special run for this collection. One of them, however, is a song that’s not been available before. We’ll get to it. Note that each album is numbered. This set also still has its price tag:

In 2026 dollars, that’s roughly $53.98.

Something else to note about this collection. Note that Garroway said that Hudson-Ross got the labels to do a special run of each record. This means the album has records from different labels. (As you can see in the picture above, one of them has “Reissued By Request” on the label.

I’ll now try to give you the 11:60 Club Favorites experience the best I can. I have yet to listen to these records, so what you get below may not be the exact versions from this set, but I hope what happens next will be enough of an approximation for us to have fun on this great occasion. Up first is “Apple Honey” by Woody Herman and His Orchestra:

Next is “Passion Flower” by Johnny Hodges and Orchestra:

Then “Mean To Me” by Garroway’s favorite, Sarah Vaughan:

And the new one: “Blues For Garroway” by Earl “Fatha” Hines.

But wait, there’s more! Each record has a B-side, even though they’re not mentioned on the liner page. Since we here at Garroway At Large are completists, here you are:

The B-side of “Apple Honey” is “Out Of This World”:

The B-side of “Passion Flower” is “Going Out The Back Way”:

The B-side of “Mean To Me” is “Signing Off”:

And the B-side of “Blues For Garroway” is “Jackie’s Dance” by Tiny Grimes and Orchestra:

And there’s a good haul of quality music for you. What better way to celebrate Our Dave’s birthday? Enjoy.

The Whirlpool Space Kitchen on “Today” (1961)

Our own Brandon Hollingsworth sent me the link to this marvelous clip a few days ago. It’s Dave, as his tenure on Today nears its end, showing off a kitchen proposed for spacecraft of the future.

According to some clues in the video, this would have been from the June 14, 1961 program. The concept is especially interesting when you put it in context: America’s experience in human space flight was 15 minutes, logged a little over a month before this aired. And President Kennedy’s address to Congress, during which he proposed sending a man to the moon and returning him safely to the Earth “before this decade is out,” had been about two or three weeks before this.

Watching this clip, you’re struck by how much Dave Garroway has aged since the first Today program nine years before. It’s not the chronological factors so much as all the years of being triple-booked on multiple programs, all the stress, all the Dexedrine and Seconal, all the nights without sleep, all the worry about the world’s condition have taken so much from him. He was also a month and a half removed from his wife’s death, and all that followed that took so much more from him. Yet you’ll also notice moments of whimsy, of Dave being fascinated by gadgets and science, and just having fun with this segment. Even at the end of his tenure, even with everything that’s happened to him, you’ll see why Dave was perfect for Today. Enjoy this moment, and enjoy Dave’s magic.

Huge thanks to The Appliance Archive for posting this clip, and thanks as always to the wonderful Brandon for sending it my way.

A birthday announcement!

First of all, today we not only celebrate the 112th anniversary of Our Dave’s birth, but the eighth birthday of our website. (Sorry – there’s no way for me to supply cake and ice cream via the Interwebs, so you’ll have to do that part yourself. I’m working on it.) At any rate, happy birthday, Dave – and I hope this little research project of the last few years has been to your liking.

This birthday, however, brings a particularly interesting announcement, and it’s directly related to Dave Garroway’s time at NBC. On July 1, I became the new proprietor of the Monitor Tribute site. Dennis Hart, who literally wrote the book about Monitor, created a website that over the last quarter-century has become a priceless repository for all things related to NBC’s marvelous kaleidoscopic phantasmagoria. Dennis felt the time was right to hand it off, and decided I was the right person to take over, not only given my interest in Dave Garroway but also because he knew how much I care about Monitor. I’m deeply honored to take it over, and it’s a responsibility I take very seriously.

What’s to come for the Monitor site? Immediately, probably not much. It is working well and I’m not inclined to mess with things that work. If new audio comes in, of course, I’ll add it to the collection, and if time and interest allow maybe I’ll add some new features (I’d love, for instance, to build some things out about Pat Weaver, about whom I would love to write a book if I could ever get the time and access to materials). Maybe over time, some things may change. But I don’t like change for its own sake, and I also don’t like when a website’s familiar flow gets turned upside down and it makes the website frustrating to use, so anything I do will be thought through.

As for this website, it’ll continue on, and maybe there will be some material cross-posted every so often. Even though the book has been published and I’m working on other things, I am always keeping my eyes and ears out for anything new related to Dave Garroway, and I still want this website to be a reasonably one-stop shop for those who want to know more about him. It may be slow here these days, but it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring, and when something new comes along I’ll have it for you here. Don’t go far.

Garroway at peace

Last year, as you may recall, I was in Philadelphia and had hoped to visit Dave Garroway’s grave in Bala Cynwyd. As you may also recall, I didn’t make it there because of a rather hilarious navigational mix-up. (And if you don’t recall, or if you do recall but you just want to relive my humiliation, the post is here.)

As fate would have it, though, a couple weeks ago I had to get to the suburbs of Manhattan to meet with a network retiree friend. For various reasons, I decided to drive, which would also let me make a wider-ranging tour of it all. When my original plans fell through, I reworked them and ended up spending the night in Camden, right across the Delaware from Philadelphia. It was on the way home, and it let me do a little sightseeing while I was there. (The old RCA plant, anyone? The battleship New Jersey?) And, wouldn’t you know it, I’d have a little time the next day, so why not?

After all my errands were done on the New Jersey side, I dialed up the route on my phone’s navigation app and followed the instructions to the letter. Never mind, of course, that it was noontime traffic on I-76 through Philadelphia…I had a promise to keep. After a not-too-distant but still invigorating drive, I was going through the gates of Laurel Hill Cemetery. A little bit of a hike over, a little detective work, and there he was.

It was quietly powerful to stand there. “Quietly powerful” in one way because the cemetery isn’t that far away from the very busy freeway off to its east, yet is very effectively shielded by some significant greenery that keeps things peaceful. But it’s also quietly powerful, I think, because the site seems so humble, especially in a cemetery with so many big and ornate monuments to families of means. Here’s Dave Garroway, who at one time carried so much of the fortunes of NBC on his back, who was first behind the desk in the infancy of morning television and demonstrated how it could not only be appealing but a money maker…and he lies beneath this very simple grave marker, and you could very well miss this grave if you didn’t know what you were looking for. (Which is funny, since I walked right past it the first time around.)

If you’re ever in the area, it’s worth the few minutes to stop by and say hello. Please do. This may have been a little out of my way, but it was very much worth the trip.

Memories of Dave: A guest post

We’re pleased to present a special treat: a guest post from Ross Bagley, who kindly wrote his recollections of an encounter with Dave Garroway, and shares what Dave meant to his career. Enjoy! (And many thanks to Ross for sharing these memories with us all.)

When the holiday season rolls around I remember Dave Garroway, his “Thanksgiving list,” the influence he had on my career and the pleasure of meeting him.

In 1954 my family got our first TV set. I was 12 years old and getting ready for junior high. I quickly discovered Today and Dave. They became part of my morning routine. I thoroughly enjoyed Dave’s demeanor and thoughtfulness. I particularly liked his yearly Thanksgiving list of things for which he was grateful. It was quite eclectic. Sadly, I remember only “whitewash” and “the color red.”

We lived in the Hudson Valley. On a family trip to New York City I stood entranced outside the big Today show window, looking in at my TV friends: Dave, Jack, Frank and J. Fred Muggs. It was my first time to see a TV studio. Little did I know that years later I’d work inside them. Actually, it was radio that first called to me. I studied media in college then came back home to our local radio station. Next I moved to Burlington, Vermont. While I was there Muggs came to town. He was painting “pictures” on a large easel as part of the touring Roy Radin Vaudeville Revue. Other performers on the bill included George Jessel and Tiny Tim.

In 1972 I came to the Norfolk, Virginia area. A year later I joined Pat Robertson’s Christian Broadcasting Network. I worked for the radio division on the second floor of the old headquarters. One day I stepped out to the balcony overlooking the lobby. There, at the foot of the stairs, stood…My Hero!! Dave had been invited to appear on The 700 Club. I rushed down to meet him, gushed over him and mentioned his Thanksgiving list. He said, “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll put that in my book.” He pulled out a leather-covered pocket notebook, attached by a chain to his belt, and made a notation.

When publication of the book was announced in the ’80’s I waited eagerly for its appearance. Alas, the book never made it to print. But Dave’s influence on my career continued. As a VJ on CBN Cable (which became The Family Channel) I helped introduce Contemporary Christian Music to many. Then, in 1981, I created an early morning wake-up news show, USAM. CBN offered the show to local TV stations for broadcast at six o’clock in the morning. The program had only moderate success and lasted just a year, but it changed the face of TV. Before USAM none of the Big 3 networks offered programming at 6:00 a.m. By the end of the year they all did.

I like to think Dave might have been pleased by my story. Now, if I could just remember what else was on his Thanksgiving list. Anyway, I wish you and yours a wonderful holiday season and a new year filled with things to be thankful for.

Missed connections

In the couple months since I was last with you, much has happened. A whole lot of it has to do with the day job, mainly that I have become executive producer of a television program that, while it’s a complete gas to work on, has consumed much of my time and nearly all of my brain. That said, it’s going well and everybody seems to be happy with it (well, thus far, anyway), so there’s that.¹

Life hasn’t been completely all that, and my perambulations the last few months provided some connections with Our Dave, fleeting though they may have been. In mid-July, a chance opportunity to visit the ocean liner United States fell in my lap, and so I made a very quick weekend trip to Philadelphia.² My plan had been to stop in Bala Cynwyd and visit his gravesite first thing that morning, and I’d timed everything out and planned my route and everything. Well, everything went well except the execution. Since everything went well except the part where I relied on dead-reckoning and memory instead of, you know, programming a route into my phone and letting the thing guide me there, I missed the exit off I-76³ and didn’t realize I’d missed it until it was too late. I’d have tried to turn around, but since my report time for the visit to the Big U was fairly well set, I had to press on. I’m sorry, Dave. But since Philadelphia is one of my favorite cities (and since there are family connections in the Philadelphia/South Jersey area), I’m pretty certain I’ll be back.

There was a consolation prize on the way back, though: I spent the night in Durham, which meant a visit to another friend in Chapel Hill the next morning was a quick hop away.⁴

It turned out the Philadelphia adventure wasn’t the only adventure ahead for me with a Garroway-themed sidelight. In early September a throwaway comment on a pal’s Facebook post led to an invitation I couldn’t refuse. Three weeks later I was on an overnight trip to New York City, and early on a Sunday morning I walked over to the ABC broadcast center and spent three hours watching my friend and his colleagues overseeing the production of that day’s Good Morning America and inserting updates, fixes and other edits into each hour’s feed.⁵ Plus my friend gave me the grand tour of ABC’s studio facilities on 66th, which now means I’ve done the behind-the-scenes trifecta.⁶

I had gotten into town on Saturday afternoon, which meant I had to use up a lot of time and had no particular plans. After I’d spent a little time resting in my hotel room, I went on a little amble around Midtown and visited some familiar haunts.⁷ But I decided while I was out that I should try to find something else. A rather vigorous walk northward took me right to it.

And there you are: 48 East 63rd Street, also known as “Garroway’s Narroway.” This was the house where Dave moved after he married Pamela, the house that was supposedly haunted by poltergeists that were driven away in an exorcism. I don’t know who lives there now, and I didn’t want to do the “look, tourists!” thing, so I paused only as long as it took to get these quick photographs. It’s been renovated inside, but the outside looks much the same, right down to the gargoyle by the front door that Dave reportedly hid a microphone inside.⁸

After all these years, to finally see this place (if only fleetingly) was neat.⁹

— Thanks to our friend Mitchell Hadley, I became aware of the Random Access Television podcast a week or so back. And while there’s several episodes on which I really need to get caught up, one is of immediate interest: their longform examination of a Garroway at Large episode, which captures their sense of discovery and wonder. Give it a listen – it’s really sweet. (And there’s also a mention or two that certainly caught my ear and made me happy. But, I digress.)

Happy birthday, Dave! (And to us!)

That’s right…we’ve had one more trip around the sun, and another year of remembering the life and legacy of our beloved Dave Garroway. We’ve come so far since our very first post all those many years ago, when this little project was just getting started and the book was little more than an aspiration. Now the book is out there (in the fancy hardcover version, in a casebound version, in paperback, and for Kindle) and it’s sold some copies, and we remain pleased with what we’ve achieved and hope we’ve helped show the world some sides of Dave Garroway that have too often been neglected.

Of course, just because the book’s published doesn’t mean we don’t stop finding new things. A couple new items arrived in the mail this week, vignettes from moments frozen in time. I’ll present them here – and please forgive the watermarks, but these are special items and I want to protect them. I think you’ll be able to enjoy them, regardless.

The first is from a large-scale color transparency that I had to do a great deal of color-correction on. It’s still not as good as it could be, but it’s a lot better than the washed-out version I started with. This was taken a few minutes before 9 a.m. Eastern on May 5, 1952. The two East Coast hours of Today have ended, and there’s a brief pause to regroup before the second hour for Central Time begins. To the left, Jack Lescoulie sits, taking a pause before announcing the top-of-hour program intro. Up front, a floor crewman reviews the rundown while a cameraman looks away from his TK-30’s viewfinder. Atop the viewfinder is part of a Tele-Q system, an early prompter system.

It’s coming up on four months since Today‘s debut, and there are already changes to the set; the big board that lists the home cities of affiliates, with weather conditions for each, has been mounted between the newsroom and Dave’s desk. Look closely and you’ll see some interesting things on that desk, including some books, a milk carton, and a large envelope. Note also that both Dave and Jack are wearing carnations in their lapels; this could be a run-up to Mother’s Day.¹⁰ Dave’s wearing the big RCA BK-4 in a harness rig.

If the first one was washed out, then this one is vivid as life itself. This is from after Today moved into Studio 3K in 1958, and is a vivid Ektachrome by Fred Wertheimer. The caption states that’s Helen O’Connell next to Dave. If that’s the case, this was taken sometime between July 10 and August 15, 1958, for O’Connell had requested her release from the program and was replaced by Betsy Palmer on August 18.

Look at Garroway’s expression. Even though he’s smiling, there’s something about him that seems worn and worried, in contrast to the droll Garroway of 1952. His hair is turning silver and he just looks older somehow. Look closely and you’ll see the pinkie finger of his right hand is completely bandaged; other photos from this same day show it to be a heavy bandage, and it makes me wonder if there’s a splint under it.

The big BK-4s have been replaced by the much smaller (and long-lived) BK-6, which could be worn on a cord or clipped to a lapel.¹¹ In front of Dave is one of the iconic RCA 77 microphones. There are two monitors behind the anchor desk, but in the background there’s just a dark wall. You get the idea of what it was like to move from the bright RCA Exhibition Hall, with its street-level window, into a studio walled off and isolated from the outside world, and of the challenges the program staff faced. In the old storefront studio, all they had to do was turn the camera toward the window, but inside 3K, there was nothing to go to.¹²

And that’s a little present to you for Dave Garroway’s 111th birthday. Enjoy!

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.¹³ 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.¹⁴ 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.¹⁵

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.¹⁶

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.¹⁷

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.

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

Happy birthday to Dave Garroway (he’d be 110 today, you know!) – and happy birthday to our website, too. Six years ago today we went live with this ongoing tribute to our Dave, and the book was but an aspiration. Six years later, the book is now an actual thing that you can buy (and if you haven’t…well, what’s keeping you? Hmmm? C’mon…you know you want it!).

In these six years we’ve chronicled a good bit of Garroway lore and made several friends, some of whom provided important insights and materials for Peace. There have been times I wished the book could have been out years before, but if that had happened, we would have missed out on several discoveries that made the book that much better. Sometimes a project knows its own timing better than we do, and we have to take a step back and let things unfold at their own pace, and a miracle happens. That certainly happened here.

Right now I can’t tell you what’s to come in the ongoing story of the Dave Garroway story, and that’s because the project has yet to decide where it wants to go next. There could be follow-on projects, perhaps, if the opportunities present themselves. I’ve ruled nothing out. For now, it feels like enough of a victory to finally have the book out there. I thank all of you who have bought it and read it, and I hope you’ll spread the word.

— And word is getting out. My employer issued a nice press release about the book a few weeks ago, and a local radio station had me in for a brief interview about it, which I enjoyed because it was a chance to be in a good old-fashioned radio studio for the first time in forever. Earlier this week I gave an online presentation to a local group, and that was a lot of fun. I am hoping more opportunities to speak are to come (and if you’re interested in having me speak, drop me a note through the contact form).

Not to mention, this very, very kind review was published last week. I’ve known this writer for years and have high regard for his work, both in newspapering and in his own books, and I’m still floored that he wrote so kindly about something I had a hand in creating. Wow.

“All Bones Considered: Laurel Hill Stories”

One of the pleasures of this historical expedition of ours has been meeting some kind people who are doing some neat things of their own. One such example arrived in the inbox a week or so back, and I’m happy to share with you here.

All Bones Considered is a podcast that tells the stories of people whose resting place is in the Laurel Hill Cemeteries near Philadelphia. As you may remember if you’re a careful reader of what we do here, two people very special to us were interred there: our Dave, along with his wife Sarah Lee Lippincott. And, as it happens, there are episodes that tell the story of our Dave and his Sarah. You can find the episode about Dave Garroway here, and the episode about Sarah Lee Lippincott is brand new and is here.

Now, I might be tempted to post the start times for their segments, but I want to encourage you to listen to the whole thing and not scrub past the other fascinating stories. It’s a very peaceful and interesting podcast, and I think you’ll enjoy it a lot, so go check it out. It’s worth it.

(And in the interest of full disclosure: Joe Lex, the host and driving force behind All Bones Considered, used material from this blog in the creation of the segment about Sarah Lee Lippincott. The use was with my blessing, and it’s a treat to hear some of my words spoken in a rich, soothing voice as part of the podcast. Thank you, Joe!)