Category: RCA

The Rube Goldberg Hour

As television production was being carved from the wilderness, some things worked better than others. Live production was challenging enough in a regular studio with two or three cameras and simple switching from the nearby control room. Throw in additional elements – live remotes, telop cards, film chains, you name it – and the chances of things going wrong went up even more. On Today, one of the most ambitious and technically complicated programs on the air in the early 1950s, flubs were inevitable.

Life Magazine photo

In the early days of Today, the program originated from the RCA Exhibition Hall1, across 49th Street from NBC’s facilities inside 30 Rockefeller Plaza. But while the program was directed from a control room downstairs from the studio floor, additional elements had to originate from inside 30 Rock. And one source of constant angst was the coordination of filmed pieces, which were ordered up from the control room and had to be inserted from inside the main facilities across the street.

In a 1954 Esquire article about Garroway and Today, writer Richard Gehman2 described the challenges of bringing it all together. Sometimes the wrong film came up (Gehman mentioned a morning when Garroway announced, “We take you now to Ambrose Lightship!” and instead a film of the Vienna State Opera appeared). Other times, the timing was off, since the film machine required five seconds to get going up to speed. Gehman noted that if the director didn’t give an on-time cue to the assistant director to tell the film technical director to “roll up” the film machine, viewers might see numbered leader film or an empty screen. “Considering the difficult timing involved,” Gehman wrote, “it is miraculous that such horrors do not appear more often.”

But other times, film goofs weren’t the fault of the control room. Today writer and managing editor Gerald Green3, interviewed by Jeff Kisseloff for the great oral history The Box, told of an ongoing frustration with Garroway and Jim Fleming that led to film problems. In their copy, on-camera talent say certain words that serve as a cue for the control room to roll a particular piece of prerecorded material – appropriately enough, this is called a “roll cue.” Green remembered that he had difficulty getting Garroway or Fleming to read their roll cues as prescribed – instead, they’d ad-lib and since the roll cue wasn’t given, no film would follow. After the program, when they would ask Green what happened to the film, he would reply, “Read your roll cue and you’ll get the film on time.”4

Green remembered that when he was managing editor, he’d watch Today from his home and watch Garroway or Fleming ad-lib, miss the roll cue, and then muse aloud that there was supposed to be film to go with this. Green would shout at his television, “Run it! Run the damn film!”5

All of which led to the evening Green was in the kitchen, and from the den he heard his young daughter yelling. He went in to see what was the matter. In the den, he saw his daughter watching Felix the Cat. Sure enough, she was yelling at the television: “Run it! Run the damn film!”6

One week in: “Gutenberg’s reputation is not threatened”

We spend a lot of time here talking about the early days of Today, and there’s a couple reasons for that. The first, obviously, is because when you look at the career of Dave Garroway you find a ton of material about his years on that program, and to not talk about it is sort of like talking about Neil Armstrong without mentioning that whole Apollo 11 thing. But it’s also interesting to look at those early days because Today was such a departure from anything else that had come before, and it’s worth seeing how a program we now take for granted brought such responses when it was new. In this installment, we’ll look at how Broadcasting looked at the first few days of Today in its January 21, 1952 issue.

(Before we go any further, it’s only right to thank the amazing online archive at the incredible American Radio History website, where this and a ton of other issues of Broadcasting, along with many other titles, are available for research. Folks like these make historians’ jobs so much easier, and they really deserve an award or ten for doing this stuff.)

The review begins by noting the immense buildup NBC had created around the program, “suggesting that the program would be of greater historical consequence than the invention of the printing press.” After the first few days, however, the review noted “Gutenberg’s reputation is not threatened” – and that the early-morning radio programs Today was meant to rival should not yet be thrown out.

Its main problem, Broadcasting noted, was that it tried to do too much too quickly and set an impossible mission for itself. “No one television show can deliver the contents of the Library of Congress to America’s living rooms and that is just about what its originators envision Today as attempting.” As a result, it reduced news stories to brief headlines, three-minute songs were truncated to a minute’s play, and book segments didn’t go into any appreciable depth. Even the trans-Atlantic reports seemed to do little more than just demonstrate such communications were possible.

The review included this really nifty depiction of the Exhibition Hall studio. (Broadcasting Magazine)

Broadcasting was not impressed with the busy studio, noting its array of clocks (“one showing the time in Calcutta, a hot-bed of interest to Indian viewers”), flashing lights, recorders and other gadgetry “as to suggest it was designed by the producers of Captain Video or Space Cadet.” The busy set with its many occupants milling about would resemble “St. Vitus’ dance brought to the screen were it not for the restorative presence of the man who now saves the show and can, with proper support, establish it as an important television feature.” Broadcasting praised Garroway as “imperturbable” and suggested Today would be successful only if the rest of the program were tuned to more closely match Garroway’s calm demeanor.

The review noted a moment from the January 15 edition that suggested a path Today could take. That morning, Garroway had interviewed New York Daily News drama critic John Chapman about a play that had opened on Broadway the previous night. Chapman told Garroway he hadn’t cared for the play, and explained why. After Chapman expressed his views, Garroway presented a recording made the night before in which theatergoers’ opinions differed from Chapman’s. “This was imaginative,” Broadcasting noted, “and an example of the kind of foresighted thinking that it will be necessary to employ consistently to make this program a success.”

Broadcasting noted that NBC had put a lot of resources into making Today a success, and “it remains only for production genius to figure out how to use it.” The review suggested that Today limit its mission to what it could do well within its allotted two hours, for at its current pace, “it will succeed only in being a costly what-is-it, running a poor second in music and news to radio in the competition for the morning audience.”

In a separate item below the review, Broadcasting noted that on its first day Today claimed a newsbeat, with NBC publicizing that a bulletin on a Northeast Airlines plane that crashed in the East River “scooped all networks and stations.” Broadcasting noted that the “scoopees” presumably included NBC’s New York flagship station WNBT-TV, since East Coast stations left Today at 9:00 AM, while the bulletin was seen only on the additional hour for Central Time Zone viewers.

One final note: In a sidebar, the basic facts about Today included an approximate cost of $35,000 per week. In January 2018, that translates to $327,371.51 per week, which…I somehow doubt would cover the week’s expenses these days.

The Truman interview that wasn’t

By November 1953 the big window of the RCA Exhibition Hall had become a popular attraction for visitors to New York, and every once in a while a famous face could be seen looking in on Dave Garroway and his merry group as they made Today happen. But one day, a particularly famous face could be seen looking in from the 49th Street sidewalk – and but for one particular remark, Today could have landed its biggest interview to date.

On Friday, November 13, former president Harry Truman was in New York. Truman, who had been out of office less than a year, was known for the brisk walks he would take each morning. New York was no obstacle to his routine, and that morning he left his hotel for a two-mile stroll around the city. In tow were his old haberdashery store partner, Edward Jacobson, and entertainer George Jessel. Following them were about 15 reporters and photographers, who peppered the former president with questions about current controversies and received Truman’s candid comments in response.

Truman’s path through Midtown brought him along 49th Street, and as he passed through Rockefeller Center he noticed the crowd looking in on the Today program across the street. Intrigued, he crossed in the middle of the block. “I know this is against the law,” the nation’s highest-ranking jaywalker told reporters.

Inside, the program staff noticed Truman at the window, smiling and waving. Cameras were quickly swung around. Somebody scooped up J. Fred Muggs and brought him to the window to see Truman, who smiled. “I’d better get along,” he said. “I don’t want to spoil the show.” Quickly, staffers hurried outside, bringing Muggs along to meet Truman. Truman shook hands with the chimp, but backed away when he tried to put a hand around his shoulders. “I don’t let people get so intimate with me,” the former president quipped. Although Truman drew the line at an embrace, he did sign a baseball for Muggs.

For a moment, Today staffers thought they’d have the interview of the year. A staffer asked Truman and Jessel if they’d step inside to talk with Garroway. Truman sounded receptive to the idea. But Jessel, who had a program on ABC, had other ideas. “The president is too busy and I work for another network,” Jessel said. (Years later, recounting the incident, former Today writer Gerald Green called Jessel “the biggest schmuck that ever lived.”) To the consternation of Today staffers, the retired chief executive and his entourage waved goodbye and wandered on, the hoped-for exclusive gone as quickly as it seemed to appear.

The King Is Dead

Teletypes inside the RCA Exhibition Hall clattered to life at 5:45 a.m. EST, Wednesday, February 6, 1952, carrying news that Britain’s King George VI died. Today was still in its first month on the air, experimenting to find the right balance of its various tasks – news, weather, sports, music, interviews, reviews and myriad ephemera. But the significance of the king’s death made its own case. The plan for that day’s program was thrown out, and a new one created from scratch.

Dave Garroway points to a headline on the “Today in Two Minutes” board, 9:30 a.m. EST, February 6, 1952. (NBC photo)

In the slim hour available before airtime, the Today crew arranged for remote phone reports from London and Paris, found stock film, and secured live television pickups from Washington. Broadcasting magazine reported the show went on at 7:00 a.m. with Dave Garroway’s announcement of the king’s death. A few moments later, he spoke with NBC correspondent Romney Wheeler, phoning from London. The “Today in Two Minutes” board was updated through the morning with newspaper front pages and wire service photos.

NBC foreign affairs commentator H.V. Kaltenborn was summoned to the Exhibition Hall. He worked with Today news anchor Jim Fleming to provide background information on George VI’s tenure. Coverage continued through the program’s three hours that day. CBS and ABC, having no comparable early-hour network program, aired their first television reports beginning at 10:00 a.m., after Today signed off. It was a coup for the show.

The busy Exhibition Hall during the 9:00 a.m. hour, February 6, 1952. News anchor Jim Fleming is at right, wearing a dark suit. (NBC photo)

As should be no surprise to students of early television, no kinescope of this Today exists, so we’ll never be able to see how it all played out. But accounts that have been written since indicate the cast and crew pulled off their first real test of breaking news and helped solidify the show’s bonafides.

The first “Today,” as it happened

The very first Today program aired on January 14, 1952. The complete program is lost to history, since in the run-up to “T-Day” nobody thought to order a kinescope. All that remains on film are the 7:00-7:29 segment and the segment from roughly 8:44 to 8:58. Many years ago the Today website had a rundown transcribed from the NBC archives, but some segments in the original document were out of sequence, and some other information was missing, incorrect, or didn’t seem to square up somehow.

What is presented below is the result of a years-long effort to reconstruct that first program. The detailed portions are from my notes from the kinescope (which you can watch here), while the rest is reconstructed from the rundown document, from the photographs Peter Stackpole took for Life that morning (many of which are linked below), from contemporary articles, and other sources. I have also embedded a few screen captures (credit: NBC) to illustrate from time to time. This is a living document, and as more information is found this post will be updated. If you have information that will help make this more complete, please share (gently) in the comments or drop us an e-mail.

TODAY – January 14, 1952
7:00 am – 10:00 am Eastern Standard Time

(kinescope begins)
6:59:30: NBC ID
6:59:35: Telop and v/o promo for Richard Harkness and the News
6:59:50: WNBT ID telop/spoken ID

The very first images of Today came from this camera position, which stayed busy that morning. (NBC photo)

7:00:00: Program begins. Jack Lescoulie spoken intro.
7:00:15: Garroway’s “preamble” begins.
7:02: Time stamp and headline crawl begin. Garroway walks to headline board for “Today in Two Minutes.”

NBC photo

7:04: News film of Capt. Carlsen of Flying Enterprise.
7:05: Return to studio; sports stories. Garroway explains when news summaries will be presented during the program. Begins tour of communications center.
7:06: Introduces Jack Lescoulie. Visits with Mary Kelly, who tells him the weather bureau is on the line for him. Garroway shows off Kelly’s electric typewriter.
7:07: Garroway shows off tape recorder and telephoto machine. Visits with Buck Prince, who has Romney Wheeler from London on the line. Also talks to Ed Haaker in Frankfurt. The big story there is the first big snowstorm of the year. “It’s really chilly here today.” Garroway: “You’re not alone. Thank you very much, Ed.”
7:09: Garroway introduces news editor Jim Fleming.
7:10: Garroway shows off wire service machines and wall of newspapers flown in for the program.

Newspapers from around the country. I think that’s Estelle Parsons holding the newspaper. (NBC photo)

7:11: Garroway walks back to telephoto machine and looks at photo – “still wet.” Walks back to his desk.
7:12: First remote – view from top of RCA building.

The first remote gives a view of 30 Rock’s ventilator stacks, but the rainy and cloudy morning prevents seeing much else. (NBC photo)

7:13: Remote from outside Pentagon. Frank Bourgholtzer v/o. Says things aren’t too visible from the Wardman Park Hotel location. Pans right from Pentagon to view of Washington skyline. Cut back to monitor view in New York.
7:13: Remote from Chicago. Jim Hurlbut interviews two Chicago police officers who are sitting in their patrol car.
7:14: In the middle of Hurlbut’s interview, we cut back to the studio. Call over studio PA from control room: “Station break, Dave.” “Oh…recess time, right back!”
7:15: Telop and v/o promo for The Mel Martin Show and WNBT ID.
7:15: Garroway at desk attempts to resume remote to Chicago but cannot get through to Hurlbut (although Hurlbut is visible on monitors with police officers).

Garroway gives up on trying to reach Jim Hurlbut: “Peace, lad.” (NBC photo)

7:16: Jim Fleming gives a news update (Mark Clark nomination as Vatican ambassador withdrawn; China accuses US of flights over Indochina; investigation into inflammable sweaters).
7:18: Garroway on phone with Jim Fidler for weather report, but Fidler not heard on the circuit. Control room (via studio PA) tells Garroway as much and asks him to continue. Garroway relays Fidler’s forecast while drawing it on map (which Garroway has to erase first).
7:20: Garroway finishes weather report, informs viewers they will play records from time to time.
7:21: First record: “Slow Poke” by Ralph Flanagan and His Orchestra (backtimed with no instrumental lead-in; music about 90 seconds in duration). Slow pan over newsroom; clock dissolves in.

NBC photo

7:23: Garroway walks over and cues Jim Fleming at the newspaper board on far end of communications center. Fleming compares Minneapolis headlines vs. San Francisco headlines. Lescoulie (next to Fleming) marvels that the late headlines from San Francisco would come in via wirephoto so quickly. Garroway comes over and announces “recess time.”
7:24:30: NBC tones. Telop promo for Dave and Charlie. Telop and v/o promo for Lights Out with Frank Gallop. Telop ID for WNBT; v/o promo for Tex and Jinx. V/O ID for WNBT.

NBC photo

7:25: Jack Lescoulie explains what viewers can expect on the program and over the next half-hour. Previews records, upcoming interview with family with son in Korea. Introduces Garroway, who interviews Lescoulie about his background and experiences.
7:27: “Sentimental Journey” fades up. “Recess; right back.” Garroway walks back to desk.
7:27: Film PSA for Treasury Dept./US Savings Bonds. No sound from film; instead, sounds from inside communications center (teletypes, phones, bells, etc).
7:28: Garroway at desk: “I didn’t know there was any sound with that film or I’d have whistled ‘Dixie.’” Remarks that he didn’t hear it over his speaker. Also notes they lost the time at the bottom of the screen and “we’re having some new times made.”
7:29: Garroway does time check, explains program for those just tuning in. Notes people looking in through windows. “Recess time right now for a minute.”
7:29: Telop promo for Richard Harkness and the News.

(end of kinescope segment; until further notice, this is reconstructed from program log sheet and other sources)

7:30: Garroway provides a briefing on what the program is about and talks with one of the remotes.
Garroway talks to the families of two soldiers stationed in Korea, Sgt. Mickey Sinnot and Sgt. Bill Cassidy. They are then shown films taken in Korea of the soldiers when they had talked to their families in days previous.
7:41: Record: “I Wanna Love You” by the Ames Brothers.
7:45: Jim Fleming gives a news update.
7:48: A live shot from a busy Grand Central Terminal as commuters hurry to work. Record: “It’s a Lonesome Town” by Mary Ford and Les Paul.
7:51: A similar live shot from Washington, D.C.
Garroway at newspaper rack takes a look at the headlines, and Jack Lescoulie gives sports update. Curious passersby watch.
Record: “Weaver of Dreams” by Nat King Cole.

8:00: Central time zone joins the program. Garroway introduces program; gives rundown of “Today in Two Minutes.” Newsreel of Capt. Carlsen of Flying Enterprise shown.
8:07: Garroway goes to newspaper board, then checks in with the overseas correspondents via shortwave radio. Robert McCormick in Paris says the big story of 1952 will be about SHAPE and NATO. In a moment widely criticized, Garroway asks a favor of Romney Wheeler in London: “All we want you to do is start our next record.” Wheeler obliges. “I hope it’s ‘Domino.’ It’s very popular over here.” You can guess what happens next. On the way back to his desk, Garroway visits with Mary Kelly.
8:12: Views of Grand Central Terminal.
8:13: Views of Washington from the Wardman Park Hotel and the Pentagon. At the Pentagon, Ray Scherer flags down Chief of Naval Operations Adm. William Fechteler on his way to work. “Can you give us a pronouncement on the state of the Navy?” Fechteler: “Well, I don’t know. When I left it yesterday, it was in great shape.”
8:15: Views of the rush hour in Chicago.
8:20: Jim Fleming with news update.
8:22: Garroway interviews Fleur Cowles about her book Bloody Precedent, published today.
8:31: Garroway does “Today in Two Minutes” briefing. Bill Stern, just arrived from California, walks into the studio and greets Fleur Cowles.
Record: “October 32nd, 1992” by the Modernaires.
8:40: Jim Fleming gives news briefing. Talks with Garroway, Bill Stern and Fleur Cowles.

(kinescoped segment resumes)

“Changing Times” was with “Today” on its first telecast. Kiplinger’s publications remained “Today” sponsors into the 1970s. (NBC photo)

8:44: Garroway does live spot for Changing Times while leaning on desk. Notes that a lady from Brooklyn called in reference to a spot earlier in the program: “Tell Garroway that the penny postcards he’s talking about now cost two cents.” Remarks that’s a sign of changing times.
8:45: NBC chimes/telop promo for Howdy Doody. Film promo for Boston Blackie. V/O promo by Don Pardo. Film ID for WNBT with V/O promo for Kukla, Fran and Ollie.
8:45: Back to studio. Garroway sees he’s on camera – “Oh, I’m talking to a friend! Is that all right?…Mort [Werner, producer], will you tell our cue people that they’re running about three inches high?” Gives time check; throws to Jim Fleming. Fleming gives story just in from Tokyo: US Navy patrol bomber crashed this morning near Yokohama. Recaps Mark Clark story, Douglas will not run for president or VP, attacks in Suez zone, Chinese charges that US planes overflew Manchuria, AEC chairman says we’re still working on H-bomb, new US proposal in Paris about control of A-bomb, Secretary of State Dean Acheson to testify before Senate Foreign Relations Committee today, Iranian prime minister Mohammad Mossadegh refuses to rescind order to close British embassies in Iran next week, economic adviser Leon Keyserling predicts $85 billion US budget for the year, recap of inflammable sweater story, bad weather in Pacific prevents search for survivors of missing freighter. Late bulletin comes in: Capt. Carlsen received a decoration today from the king of Denmark; Fleming notes that he will be honored in NYC Wednesday. Throws back to Garroway: “Brother Garroway, are you there?”
8:46: Garroway is on phone; grins at Fleming. Goes back to phone; asks control room if the mobile units are coming up after “Frenesi.” Asks them to hold “Frenesi” and to go to mobile units first. Cues Frank Blair in Washington. There’s a pause, cue channel chatter audible; picture from Wardman Park comes up, cough over audio. Garroway says he sees Jim Hurlbut in Chicago. Frank Bourgholtzer comes on, identifies himself. Picture shows morning traffic on Connecticut Avenue bridge and Rock Creek Parkway. Bourgholtzer says he’s at the Pentagon. Picture cuts to Pentagon and crowded parking lots there. Bourgholtzer says Ray Scherer is standing in front of the Pentagon, doesn’t know if they can cut to him or if they’ll show the yacht basin. “Sherm, can we have that shot? There we are!” Bourgholtzer notes that some come to work by boat, including Air Force brass from Bolling Field. Pan over parking lots; Bourgholtzer notes some can contain 6-7,000 cars. Bourgholtzer then throws to Ray Scherer, who notes parking lots on Mall side of Pentagon and how quickly they filled up. Notes Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial in distance. Says he expects Secretary of the Army Frank Pace at any moment. Gloomy, overcast morning in Washington.
8:50: Quick view of Pentagon exterior before cuts back to Garroway: “There! We got it that time!” Garroway, smiling, gives quick explanation of how these are some of the tools that will be used on the program to take you to various places, how they can get into just about any place. Cues Jim Hurlbut in Chicago.

NBC photo

8:51: Hurlbut in Chicago, outside the Loop Terminal of the Illinois Central suburban railroad. Shows people coming out of terminal to go to work. Cuts to corner of North Michigan and East Randolph, showing pedestrians and traffic. Hurlbut notes how busy that corner gets during rush hour. Cuts back to Hurlbut outside terminal with people coming out of terminal. Hurlbut notes the fog will be with them all morning long. Cut to view of bridge tower in fog and NBC mobile unit on bridge, panning left. Cut to view of buses waiting for passengers. Cut back to Hurlbut, who wraps with “so, take it away, Dave Garroway.”

The state of the art in 1952. If only this baby could come up for sale in Hemmings the month after I win the lottery. (NBC photo)

8:53: “Thank you, Jim, old friend…and he is that.” Garroway notes Chicago is his old hometown and it looks familiar to him, but NYC is his new hometown and how busy and populated it is. Time check as he cues camera at Grand Central Terminal and Peter Roberts. Shots of commuters arriving as Roberts explains what’s going on.
8:54: Back to Exhibition Hall and Garroway. “We’re going to take a time-out for a short recess at this minute. Be right back, folks.”

There’s no way I was leaving this out. (NBC photo)

8:54: NBC chimes. Telop promo for Kukla, Fran and Ollie. Telop card for Mothers’ March on Polio with Eddie Cantor v/o. Don Pardo v/o repeats phone number. Telop ID for WNBT with Pardo v/o for Ben Grauer’s Seeing is Believing. WNBT verbal ID.
8:55: Lescoulie at desk recaps what program has done thus far and what it intends to do, bringing you top stories “as regularly as coffee is served.” Wire service photos will also be shown. “And, of course, we’ll always have…Dave Garroway!” Garroway standing near desk realizes he’s on, gives time check. Time and headline crawl return to screen. Garroway notes a lady has called and said it’s an interesting program but they haven’t once mentioned Brooklyn. Garroway walks over to Lescoulie, says Jack was telling him something about “a rhubarb between [Roy] Campanella and the Dodgers.” Lescoulie notes the lady calling about the lack of a Brooklyn mention; Garroway taps Lescoulie’s shoulder and says “I just said that.” They laugh about it.
8:56: Lescoulie begins telling story about Campanella’s refusal to have bone chips removed. “Sentimental Journey” comes up and Lescoulie is faded out in middle of story.
8:56: Filmed PSA for Big Brothers of America with Gene Lockhart. “Sentimental Journey” still plays over first few seconds.
8:57: Back to Lescoulie in studio; no audio for first few seconds. Lescoulie recaps his conversation with Campanella about a story that he was holding out on re-signing with the Dodgers for the 1952 season. Campanella debunks story, saying he would return to the Dodgers.

Jack Lescoulie not only smiled between every sentence, but kept smiling while he was talking. It’s truly amazing to watch. (NBC photo)

8:58: Garroway at desk notes they have a box of gadgets. Shows off needle-threading device.

NBC photo

8:59: Garroway notes it’s time to say goodbye to east coast viewers. Notes he wants to stand because he means it sincerely, and notes that the show has a lot of bugs but they will work them out. “Today” super comes up. “Peace.”

NBC photo

(end of kinescope)

9:00: Program continues for Central Time Zone. Garroway does “Today in Two Minutes.” News update.
Record: “Frenesi” by Artie Shaw
9:20: A view of commuters at Grand Central Terminal. Music: “Grand Central Station.”
9:22: Weather report from Jim Fidler. Jack Lescoulie marks weather map.
9:23: Jim Fleming has AP report on Northeast Airlines Flight 801, which crashed on approach to LaGuardia 20 minutes ago. The bulletin is broadcast one minute after it was received via teletype.
9:27: Fleming illustrates story with viewgraphic map showing location of crash.
9:40: Jim Fleming gives news update. Garroway at newspaper board shows the headlines in different parts of the country.
Record: “I’ll See You in My Dreams” by Hugo Winterhalter.
9:48: Visit with families of soldiers in Korea.
9:55: Garroway shows wire service photo just received.
9:59: “Peace.”
9:59: We’re clear.

What a little love can do

Today’s installment really doesn’t have to do with Dave Garroway. (Well, maybe tangentially, because it does involve RCA and something that NBC once used a lot of, although long after Dave had left the network.) Instead, it’s kind of a love story, an unexpected one. And in the spirit of the season, it’s kind of like my version of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree: maybe it just needed a little love.

Let’s begin the story with a younger version of me, surfing the web, coming across websites like the one Chuck Pharis has, being green with envy at that kind of camera collection. Or the great collection at Eyes of a Generation. For a long time, I’d wanted a decommissioned television camera of my own. But I had a feeling it would be serious money getting into the hobby. Much as I would dearly love a TK-11/31 or a PC-60 (for my money, the most beautiful camera ever built), I knew from looking around that they were too rich for my blood. Still, a girl can dream, and every few days I’d do a search on eBay just for fun.

Bailey Stortz at his TK-47 on Letterman’s program in the early ’90s. This is how I best remember these cameras.

A couple years ago, a search yielded an RCA TK-47. Now, the TK-47 never really got me excited. I remembered them from Letterman’s later years on NBC, and you’d occasionally catch glimpses of them on Saturday Night Live, but I never cared much for how they looked. They were a little too modern, I guess. The newest RCA camera I really cared for was perhaps a TK-44; maybe it was all those years of watching Johnny Carson when I was a kid, but the -44 spoke of a time just as those beautiful Norelcos epitomized the CBS of my childhood.

And yet…the more I looked, the more that TK-47 tempted me. It had a buy-it-now price of $500. And the manuals were up for sale, too. I dithered and dithered on it. By the time I decided to act, the manuals were available but the camera had disappeared. I bought the manuals and told the seller if he still had the TK-47, I was interested. He replied that he didn’t have that TK-47 any longer, but he did have a second one and some additional components, and told me to call him.

That afternoon I gave him a call, and he told me what he had available. The TK-47 he had was stripped of most of its internals, but would make a fine camera for display. Better still, this one still had its lens and cables. And even better still, the set included the components of the camera chain. He sounded a little reluctant to sell, but the more we talked, the more he warmed up to a deal, and we finally arrived at a number that worked for us both.

A tired TK-47 and matching Fujinon lens on the afternoon they arrived at my home. My feelings were an amazing combination of “I can’t believe I own a studio camera!” and “How am I going to do this?”

A week or so later, a series of large boxes showed up at the office. One was particularly large, too large to fit in my car, so a co-worker and I ripped it open. Inside was the blue-and-cream body of the TK-47, which barely fit in my car’s little trunk. Somehow, I got it all home: the control units, the lens, the setup console. The only item that didn’t come in the deal was the camera computer, which was too heavy to ship (about 90 pounds), so I’d agreed to let that one go since I knew where to find another one closer to home. The zoom and focus controllers, I hunted down from another source (and I’m fortunate to have found them, since I don’t think I’ve seen another set since).

My little helper inspecting the restoration.

The poor TK-47 had seen better days; it had years of dust and a little dirt on it, and for a time I thought about stripping and repainting it. But as I started to clean it up and applied some polish to some stubborn spots, I saw it was worth keeping as it was. Besides, those little scrapes and dings were part of this camera’s story. And, about that story…

The seller had sent some pictures before we closed the deal, and on the lens I noted an intriguing detail. Seems the lens had a property tag for KCET-TV. When I opened the camera body, I found another KCET-TV property tag. If that call doesn’t ring a bell, let me do a little explaining.

It’s a ratty picture, a screengrab from an old RCA publication, but I’m pretty sure that’s my TK-47 on the set of “Cosmos.”

Back in the day, KCET-TV was the PBS affiliate for Los Angeles (it’s since gone independent). And in the late ’70s, KCET replaced its TK-44s with new TK-47s. And the new capabilities of the TK-47 – the only RCA studio camera to win an Emmy – would aid in the production of a new series that was in the works. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Much of the series would be shot on location using film, but the in-studio segments, notably the famous “Spaceship of the Imagination” sequences, were shot with TK-47s. Which meant…yep, this camera met Dr. Carl Sagan.

The more I thought about the property tags, the more I knew what I had to do.

My original plan for the camera was to put it in NBC markings, as a tribute to all the late nights I spent watching Letterman or staying up for SNL. But the more I got into the KCET story, the more I knew what I had to do. A conversation with Bobby Ellerbee convinced me it was the right thing to do. So I did.

As you’ll notice in the restoration photos, the original jeweled finish on the handle recesses was long gone, probably stripped off when the KCET logos were removed. I searched as best I could for something that could replicate the finish. Nothing quite matched it, but I did find some self-adhesive vinyl that was almost the same. I cut some sheets of plastic in the shape of the insets, applied the wrap to the plastic, and stuck them in place with archival-grade adhesive dots. If I ever need to remove them, it’s as easy as just peeling them off. The KCET markings were drawn in Adobe Illustrator and laser-printed on clear decal film. (I still need to have some “4” decals cut for the top of the camera below the tally light, but that will come in time.)

All cleaned up and reassembled and looking almost as good as new, with new KCET logos in the right places. Temporarily bolted atop a Vinten Radamec plate so it won’t topple over.

To be completely accurate this camera should be atop a Vinten Fulmar pedestal. Unfortunately, those cost a lot more than I can afford. A month or so before I got this camera, I’d happened across an inexpensive ITE pedestal and head for sale in Virginia (and the story of how I got *that* beast home is one I’ll have to tell someday…it involves an overnight trip, a rented van, a Tina Fey audiobook and a front-end loader. Seriously). It was all I had, so I used the TK-47 with this pedestal. To my knowledge KCET didn’t use this setup, but I have seen photos of TK-47s atop this very pedestal (including pictures from CNN’s earliest days), so it’s allowable. The head was missing its handles, so I had to buy some aluminum stock and my father and I formed them into passable handles one afternoon. (Isn’t it sweet, that kind of father-daughter bonding over metalwork?) The rubber grips were from a medical supply house, intended for canes and walkers, but they worked fine here.

A very happy TK-47 back in its natural environment.

After a few months it was time for the completed project to make its debut. I wasn’t going to park it in our living room, though; our cats would find it a plaything, and aside from that it would be weird having a studio camera in our little den. Nope, this belonged in my office. I rented a truck one afternoon and brought it all in, and put everything together at last. I hung a spare Clear-Com box and a retired headset on the side of the camera. And, like Charlie Brown’s little tree, all it had needed was a little love. That camera, all cleaned up and back on a pedestal, looked happy. A few days later, we had a special event in our television studio, and I wheeled out my TK-47 alongside one of our current studio cameras, and alongside one of the new HD cameras we were switching to. It was quite the exhibit.

That TK-47 now lives in my office. I still wheel it over to our seminar room sometimes if we have guests in, or on special occasions I’ll take it down to the studio and put it on display. It’s not quite complete; I’d love to find an original-equipment lens hood, a shade for the viewfinder, and a shot box to hang on the side, and I still want to get an equipment rack to mount the control room side of the chain. It’ll never function again as it originally did, but even as a static display it tells a great story.

And don’t tell anybody this, but most days I give that camera a hug. It’s my baby, and I’m proud of it.

Lost Garroway: “Dave’s Place,” 1960

There are moments in Dave Garroway’s career that are well known. But for every one of those, there must be at least ten that have vanished into the ether and are likely gone forever. One of those is a curious entry from 1960, when Dave Garroway tried one more time to bring the Chicago magic to prime time. Very little material exists on it, and so far as we can tell there’s no known recording – not even the Paley Center seems to have a copy. Which is a shame, because on Friday, November 18, 1960, NBC invited viewers to spend an hour at Dave’s Place.

According to Robert Metz in his book The Today Show, the idea for Dave’s Place began sometime in 1960. Garroway had sensed his days at Today might be numbered, and that a good showing on a prime-time special could lead to a series. Garroway asked his producer, Robert “Shad” Northshield, to head the project.

Northshield hired Andy Rooney, who had written for Arthur Godfrey, to write the program. At least once, Rooney visited Garroway’s town house to discuss the project. But Garroway was unhappy with Rooney’s script, and turned to Today writer I.A. “Bud” Lewis, on whom he had come to depend in recent years – so much that Garroway informed other Today writers that he refused to speak any lines unless Lewis had approved them. Lewis and Lester Colodny completed the script; more than a decade later Lewis himself later referred to the script as “slap-dash” and “not a particularly good show.”

As if that wasn’t enough, during the special’s gestation, Northshield fell out of favor with Garroway and was soon gone from both Today and Dave’s Place. Norman Kahn was brought in to shepherd the prime-time special to its air date. The program went over budget, and Garroway himself funded part of the production. Lynwood King was tapped to direct.

The thought of Garroway in prime time tantalized columnists. Larry Wolters of the Chicago Tribune noted that the title reminded him of Studs Terkel’s old program Studs’ Place, and that like Garroway’s Chicago program, “the atmosphere will be relaxed, and the format free wheeling.”

As it happened, the completed script wasn’t so much about Garroway himself. Instead, the script connected everything through the RCA Building at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, a place Garroway had called his professional home for decades. “The theme, the mood and even the format of the program are an expression of how Dave Garroway feels about the building and the NBC studios it houses, where he has spent such a large part of his life,” read NBC’s press release. “As Dave puts it, ‘Twenty-three years is a long time to be in love with an idea…but I have…and it’s all been connected with this building.'”

The day before the program aired, newspaper columns previewed the program. Most had high hopes. The Nashville Tennesseean looked forward to “an amiable amble” through the RCA Building as Garroway told stories and met people, while the Salt Lake City Tribune noted “it seems that Mr. Garroway has decided that ordinary stage settings are inadequate for his Friday night show…thinking big, he has decided to use the 70-story RCA Building.” Another columnist suggested, “If you’re one of his early morning addicts or want to know if you could be one, here’s an hour-long amble, visit, sentimental journey or what-have-you, with NBC’s goggle-eyed philosopher-astronomer-huckster at his “home” in New York City…mostly this is Garroway, wandering about from lobby to studios to roof, the happy historian of 23 years at Dave’s Place.” Several listings had it as a viewing “best bet.”

According to surviving accounts, the program began with a view of the outdoor skating rink at 30 Rock. Garroway arrived in his beloved Jaguar, walked to the rink, and began telling the audience about “Dave’s Place” and what it meant.

Inside 30 Rock, Garroway took viewers to several points of interest, including the central videotape facility; Studio 3B, where The Dave Garroway Today Show originated; and the eighth floor, which Garroway noted was the home of all the big shows back in the day. Garroway reminisced about his first job at NBC, as a page on the eighth floor, and about being present on Christmas Night, 1937, as Arturo Toscanini debuted the NBC Symphony Orchestra in Studio 8H.

Along the way, Garroway met up with his old Chicago friend, comedian Cliff Norton; comedians Sid Gould, Bernie West, Helen Halpin, and Al Kelly, known for his double-talk routine. Singer Julie London performed three songs: “Making Whoopee,” “Well, Sir” and “All of You.” The Joe Wilder Sextet performed “Heat Wave,” and the New York Woodwind Quartet presented “St. Anthony’s Chorale” by Haydn. In a joint performance, the two groups presented an original song, “It’ll Never Sell,” by Alec Wilder. As the program went on, Garroway segued into several commercials – for American Tourister luggage and Elgin watches, among other sponsors.

Near the end of the program, Garroway stood on the RCA Building’s observation deck, looked down on the lights of Times Square, and then cast his gaze on the stars above. This led into a sequence (likely based on one of Garroway’s favorite works, The Cosmic View by Kees Boeke) that showed how, in the grand scheme of things, humans and the world itself were both insignificant and unique against the scale of the universe.

Along the way were some innovations. A “motion sculpture” sequence, using stainless steel rods that were vibrated with electricity, provided what one reviewer called “fascinating images” on the screen. And at 45 minutes into the program, Garroway remarked that closing credits usually go unread. As Julie London sang a song, the closing credits were seen in the dark background behind her.

Other little whimsical moments took place during the hour. At one point, Chet Huntley passed by Garroway in one of 30 Rock’s corridors. “Good night, David,” he said, reprising his famous Huntley-Brinkley signoff. As Huntley walked on, Garroway said, “He says that to everybody.” And at the end, in a sequence a reviewer called “eerie,” a photo of Garroway morphed into a photo of RCA chief Gen. David Sarnoff. “We’ve called this Dave’s Place, and it surely is,” Garroway said. “Good night, and thank you, David.”

Reviews were lukewarm; the consensus was that while the Garroway charm was there, the execution was off. “N.B.C. made a stab at re-creating the atmosphere of the old Garroway at Large program last night,” read a review in the Louisville Courier-Journal. “A closing sequence rather oversimplified the theory that man is pretty small potatoes compared to all creation. The show, though pleasant in spots, bore out this viewpoint.”

Harry Harris of the Philadelphia Inquirer generally liked the program but was distracted by the constant commercials. “We kept wondering if it wouldn’t have been more appropriately tagged ‘Dave’s Store.’ Almost every moment, he seemed to be peddling something – luggage, watches, spark plugs, NBC and, not least of all, Dave Garroway. Maybe it just SEEMED like a commercial-studded commercial because, except for a song interlude by Julie London, Dave was endlessly present, making with the soft-voiced hard sell.” Harris also noted that by confining the proceedings to within 30 Rock, the former Wide Wide World host “seemed reduced to serving as guide to an extremely narrow world.” However, Harris was entertained enough by the musical and comedy segments to call Dave’s Place “a winner of a ‘Place’ show.”

While Dave’s Place was a pleasant Friday night diversion, it never led to anything beyond that single program, and records about it remain scant; even finding this much about it has been a challenge. I’d like to hope a kinescope or videotape exists – not only because of the obvious Garroway connection, but having roamed the halls of Dave’s Place myself, I would love to see how some familiar places looked in 1960, made even better with Garroway as my tour guide. It may have been an odd little program, but if a copy exists, it would sure be a treat to see.
—
SOURCES:

  • “Dave’s Place.” Fort Lauderdale News, Nov. 18, 1960.
  • Harris, Harry. “Screening TV: Hallmark’s “Macbeth” Is Excellently Filmed But Not Top Video.” Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 21, 1960.
  • Londino, Cathleen. The Today Show: Transforming Morning Television. Rowman & Littlefield, 2016. p. 52.
  • Martin, Richard O. “Checking the Channels: TV Goes Bizarre Today.” Salt Lake City Tribune, Nov. 18, 1960.
  • Metz, Robert. The Today Show. Playboy Press, 1978. p. 130-133.
  • “Radio, TV Highlights: Visit to ‘Dave’s Place’ Is All Dave Garroway.”
    Eugene (OR) Guard, Nov. 18, 1960.
  • Rooney, Andy. “The Death of Dave Garroway.” Lakeland Ledger August 3, 1982.
  • Terrace, Vincent. Television Specials: 5,336 Entertainment Programs, 1936-2012. 2d ed. McFarland, 2013. p. 119
  • “TV Review: N.B.C. Tries To Re-create Old Garroway Program.”
    Louisville Courier-Journal, Nov. 19, 1960.
  • “TV Scout: Garroway Ambles Through RCA.” Nashville Tennesseean, Nov. 18, 1960.
  • Wolters, Larry. “Dave Garroway to Do 1-Night Variety Show.” Chicago Tribune, Oct. 13, 1960.

Another time capsule

Time got away from us here at Garroway At Large World Headquarters, and the Wide Wide Blog has suffered as a result. Last week I had to take a trip to conduct research on my other project. (Maybe I’ll write something about that project in a future post. It’s pretty interesting.)

To make up for my absence, here’s a really big present for you. Perhaps the best way for you to get a glimpse of what the Garroway magic was like, as it happened, is to unplug yourself from the present, journey back to November 1957, and enjoy Garroway and friends in long form. (Note: the title gets it wrong – that’s Kokomo Jr. and not Muggs – but don’t let that distract you.)

The Starmaker

One of the most iconic things about the early days of Today is unmistakable here:

As much an icon as Dave’s glasses or his bow tie, it’s that big microphone he wore in those early years.

Wanna see one?

Meet the RCA BK-4A “Starmaker.” Last year I was fortunate to acquire this one, and it’s got an interesting history of its own. We’ll get to that in a moment.

RCA didn’t make the BK-4A for very long. But when it debuted in 1950, this was an incredible achievement. Unlike the Altec “Coke-bottle” microphone, which was part of a system, the Starmaker was self-contained; just plug the cable in and go.

RCA made great promotional hay about the BK-4A being a “vanishing” microphone. Unlike the larger RCA 44 or 77 microphones, a singer or speaker could use a BK-4A and not have their face concealed in a head-on shot. (Although I take exception to RCA’s insistence that the Starmaker was “little larger than a big fountain pen.” At 12 inches in length…just how big were the fountain pens they were using in Camden back then?)

The Starmaker was designed for use on television, and that accounts for that dark silver color. RCA called it “TV Gray.” Sometimes you’ll see an RCA 77 in this color, too. Bright silver finishes reflecting the intense studio lighting played havoc with television cameras, and this non-reflective finish made life so much easier. In the case of the Starmaker, it also helped the microphone blend in against a necktie, scarf or jacket.

The Starmaker had a small grille at the top of a long barrel. It doesn’t look like much, but if you’ve heard audio from those early Today programs, you know these microphones did an excellent job against the clatter of a busy newsroom.

At the bottom of the microphone there’s a threaded adapter for a mic stand. It also unscrews, allowing other fittings as needed. Since Garroway and company needed to move around in the RCA Exhibition Hall, NBC constructed those wire hoops with angled mounting brackets that you see in the archival photos. Someday if I can get happy about how they were designed, I’ll construct one for this mic. The Starmaker weighs about a pound, and after three hours it must have felt good to take that hoop off at the end of a day’s telecast. Dave and company also had to mind that long cable, lest they snare themselves on-air.

I don’t know about you, but I sure do miss this logo, and I sure do miss when the letters “RCA” truly meant something. This little circular logo is beautifully fit into the microphone’s case. It testifies to the care and pride RCA put into its design and manufacture.

The most intriguing aspect of my BK-4A is this rollmark on the back. What stories could this microphone tell? Could this have been the one Garroway wore that morning in January 1952? Or did Jack Lescoulie wear it, speaking those very first words into it that morning? Or was it Jim Fleming’s microphone? Many’s the time I’ve wished this microphone could tell me its story, the people who spoke into it, the programs it was on. But it enjoys keeping its secrets.

Fortunately, according to the seller, it’s still a functional microphone. It has about 25 feet of cable and its old Cannon UA-3-12 connector. I have no interest in rewiring this microphone – it’s too significant – but there are folks who make XLR adapters for obsolete Cannon connectors. And I do have access to a very good production room. So there’s a chance this microphone will live again. (Side note: how neat would it be to have an audio version of the Garroway book that was recorded using this mic? It could happen.)

For more on the BK-4A I recommend the Modesto Radio Museum’s very nice write-up, and this page has not only some nice photos of a restored Starmaker but also a modern clip that lets you hear how this microphone sounds in use.