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.)
Although the book’s out there and finding an audience in its own low-key manner10, that doesn’t mean we here at Garroway at Large World Headquarters aren’t always on the lookout for new additions to the collection. Last week, a certain online auction site brought an especially rare item I’ve been seeking for years, ever since seeing a picture of a certain Today notable reading it in close detail.
A few dollars and a week’s shipping time later, here it was in my hot little hands. Though I doubt this is the exact copy seen above.
I haven’t come across a lot of information about this little book itself, but as we’ll see as we look at a few pages, the message was to make the Today program appealing to prospective advertisers by telling stories from viewers’ letters and other feedback. The title is inspired by Stephen Potter’s The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship: Or the Art of Winning Games Without Actually Cheating, a best-seller published a few years before that had spawned follow-up volumes by Potter.11
This is a slim little volume whose shape suggests a television screen. Its spread was too long for my scanner, and I therefore had to reassemble each spread from two scans in Photoshop. I also got some dark edges that I only had moderate success cleaning up, so please forgive that. Instead, focus on the samples below.
This introduction sets the tone for what’s to follow. It’s all written in a droll style with footnotes at various points, and the footnotes are often a license to insert jokes. The first footnote above is full of industry references; the second is a reference to this then-recent scandal.
This gives you an idea of what’s to come: a goofy little illustration12 depicting some of the acts that viewers say they engage in while watching Today. Somewhere in the image is a television picture showing Garroway responding to whatever scene is happening. Each drawing is annotated in a way that corresponds to remarks in the narrative. “Position of hand on nose is regulation shaving maneuver and not to be construed as criticism of Today,” it notes.
In this section a viewer writes of getting dressed while watching Today. The narrative notes how many viewers (10.7%) do this, although “ordinarily we of television try to avoid this sort of thing.” It also notes that “coy expression is a fairly common manifestation during this process. It arises from feeling that Garroway is actually present in room. This feeling of Garroway’s presence is decided advantage to advertiser (you?).”
In the second section there’s discussion about places where people watch Today: in taverns, while in different rooms of the house, or even in bed. This section tells the story of a woman who had a swivel top put on a table so she could watch Today from her bed, but when she couldn’t see all of the picture she had the table’s legs extended. The narrative suggests she may be of the “leisure class,” in which case she could order someone to buy the sponsor’s product. A note also informs prospective time-buyers that Today‘s time cost less than $1.25 per thousand, making it one of the best buys on the air.
A third section looks at ways people have adapted to Today. One entry tells of a woman who calls a friend and holds the phone up to the television for the entirety of the program so she can hear the show. Another tells the story of the man who cut a hole in his wall so he could see from another room. In this one, we have a woman who installed a mirror so she could see the program while in the kitchen. The book calls this “reverse Todaymanship,” and a footnote says the correspondent kept referring to the program as “yadot.”
Now that we’ve seen some examples, the booklet says these are representative of about half the viewership of Today. What are the rest doing? “Nothing. They just sit there.” Husbands are late to work; wives postpone chores; children are late to school.13 “But whether Today‘s viewers work while watching or not, they are complete addicts and could be very susceptible to your advertising on Today.”
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.
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.14
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.15 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.16 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.
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.17 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.
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.18 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.
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.
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.19
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 Francis20 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.
A post I regret needing to make: Barbara Walters has died at age 93. I can’t say I’m surprised, as I knew she was not in the best of health, but it doesn’t make the news any less of a punch to the gut. There’s no way to calculate what women in journalism, and women in broadcasting, owe her. It’s better for others to cover that ground, as they will, and so I shall leave that to others better qualified than I am.21
Instead, it’s worth remembering that someone who helped her get her career started was Dave Garroway. It was while he was host of Today that she was hired as a writer, and she spoke often of how important that was in helping her get her start.22 As part of this hastily-assembled memorial post, here’s a clip in which she talks about Dave Garroway, what she remembered about him, and what made him special.
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.
You may recall that several years ago I wrote about one of my most cherished artifacts, my RCA BK-4 “Starmaker.” The Starmaker, you may recall, was that unusual foot-long microphone that Dave Garroway and his fellow on-air staffers on Today used for the first few years.
My Starmaker was in excellent condition, with only one weird scar across the front below the RCA emblem. I figured it was just something that happened while it was being used. From time to time I toyed with the idea of sending it to a microphone specialist for a checkup, but figured it would be one of those “someday” things when I had fewer pressing needs.
A few weeks ago, somebody contacted me about something and, in that way conversations go, the topic of the BK-4 came up. It occurred to me I should pay the little one some attention, so I got it out of storage. What I saw broke my heart. I’d spooled up that super-long cable and placed the microphone atop it. Bad idea, it turned out. The old cable jacket had eaten into the paint, leaving two big and ugly scars across the front of the microphone. The microphone itself was not damaged, but the paint was ruined. I felt kind of sick about it, especially since my own negligence had done this. (I think that weird little scar I mentioned earlier, the one that was already on the microphone, was the result of a similar cable jacket burn.)
Now, I could have fixed this myself with some careful sanding and a can of spray paint, but I didn’t feel right doing that. An artifact like this deserves the best treatment I could find. And that’s what I decided to do.
I boxed the Starmaker up and sent it off to New Jersey. That’s where Clarence Kane runs ENAK Microphones and Repair Service. Clarence worked for RCA back in the day and, when RCA got out of the microphone business, set up his own service center to keep microphones going. Clarence is now assisted by Luke Petersen, who has been very busy the last several years learning the ins and outs of dozens of microphone types. But instead of telling you about these two, maybe I should let this neat little film speak for me:
I sent my Starmaker off a few weeks ago, and I expected it to take a while. But early last week I got an invoice, and last Thursday UPS brought me a box, and with my heart wedged between my adenoids I cracked the thing open. Inside, very carefully packaged, was my beloved Starmaker…
…looking better than it’s looked in forever. Not only had the paint been accurately redone (while preserving the NBC-TV rollmark on the back!), but at my request they had also given it a check-up and installed a new cable with a standard XLR connector (and, also at my request, returned the old cable for historical purposes). All I need is a good pre-amp, and I could put this little one back to work, which is what I think it wants to be doing anyway.
To say I’m happy is an understatement. I was positively giddy over it. And while the reconditioning job was not inexpensive, I have absolutely no regrets. I owed it to that microphone, not only for what my carelessness had done, but also to make sure that microphone will be in good shape for its next 70 years.
If you have an old microphone that needs service, give the folks at ENAK a call or send them an e-mail. I highly recommend them.
:: Things are quiet on the book front, which is much of why you haven’t heard much from me in a while. Right now the main thing is waiting for some paperwork to come down, and waiting for the recommended edits from the copy editor. Things are in work, though, so stay tuned.
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.23
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.”24 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.”
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.25
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.”
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.
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.”26
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.”27
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.
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.”28 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.”29
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.
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 Marx30 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.”
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.
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.31
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.
Then there’s an interview with Betty Furness.
Betty mentions that she was a friend of Garroway’s32, 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 interview33 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.34 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.”35 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.”36 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.37 And they’ll talk live with some of the moment’s biggest celebrities:
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.”
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.”39 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.40
We go to break with Garroway using his long microphone cord like a whip, to the amusement of the crowd outside.
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.”42
…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.”
It’s Garroway who sees us through the closing credits…and bids us good night, in his familiar way.
When Dave Garroway came back to Chicago after serving in World War II, he found himself occupying the midnight slot on WMAQ.43 He turned what seemed like a dead-end assignment into an unusual program of music, patter and whimsy that gained a following everywhere WMAQ’s signal could be heard. And he named this unusual program The 11:60 Club.
As it happens, The 11:60 Club took its name from a popular song of the time, which I’m happy to share here.
And as a bonus…notice how Garroway is listed as “Eagerest Beaver” of the 11:60 Club? That’s a reference to….
You can say many things about Dave Garroway, but there is no disputing that the man knew good music.