This post is long overdue. It’s partly out of my own reluctance, because I have grappled with how to contain this man’s career in the space of a post – because the man was so good at so many different things. But maybe some of it had to do with how familiar he was. I imagined we would always have a world with Hugh Downs in it. He had been around forever, starting out at a local radio station in Ohio in 1939, moving into television in 1950 with WMAQ in Chicago, and finally calling it a career in 1999. And back in July, we lost him at the age of 99.
In those 60 years in broadcasting, Hugh Downs did everything. He was an announcer, billboarding a show about a little clown and a dragon and their human friend. He was right-hand-man to Arlene Francis on the Home show. He was Jack Paar’s sidekick. He hosted Today. He hosted a game show, narrated documentaries, did a series about the challenges and opportunities that come with getting older. He even composed music and recorded albums.
Then came a second act, when ABC hired him to host 20/20, which had suffered a disastrous debut.1 It was in that capacity I first really came to know of him, as the kindly man who introduced segments and talked with correspondents and informed us that they were in touch, so you be in touch. Downs’ steady presence as host helped the program feel (if you’ll pardon the expression) anchored. 20/20 would never have the hard edges of 60 Minutes, but Downs was perfect for 20/20‘s more populist mix of investigation and human interest.
I’m not going to go through the entire career of Hugh Downs here. It would take much too long, and you can read it elsewhere anyway.2 Instead, this remembrance is more subjective, because I remember him so well from all the years I watched him.
If you watched Hugh Downs you noticed how easygoing he seemed, how low-pressure he was, sometimes to the point of seeming sleepy. A spoof of 20/20 that ran in MAD Magazine during the period had Downs asleep at the desk in the final panel as Barbara Walters closed the program.3 It may have been easy to mock, but that low-key nature had much to do with why Downs wore so well. I teach my students that to be on television is to be a guest in your audience’s homes, and the moment you rub them the wrong way, they’ll show you out. Too often people on television forget this and they wear out their welcomes in a hurry. Hugh Downs knew this. He had a terrific ability to ration his wattage, to know how to be the host who knew how to keep a program going without becoming bigger than the show or its purpose, and to do it without wearing out the viewer. He had the ability to be interesting without being dominant.
It helped that Downs was a man who had a genuine curiosity about so much. He was a perpetual student, always finding something new to learn or to be interested in or to read about or to visit. He learned how to scuba dive, how to fly airplanes, how to drive a race car, sailed his own boat across the Pacific. And for a time he was a teacher, too. He lived many lifetimes within the time of his life.4
In thinking about the life and career of Hugh Downs, I’m struck by the similarities between him and Dave Garroway: both versatile broadcasters with a cool presence that wore well, especially on longer-form programs like Today (and it’s worth noting that when Downs took over Today after the John Chancellor experiment didn’t work out, more than one reviewer favorably compared Downs’s style to that of Garroway). Both of them were fascinated by so many interests and knew so much about so many things, and their knowledge informed the shows they hosted. On occasion I have wondered if Dave Garroway, had he the benefit of modern treatments for depression and other issues, might have been like Hugh Downs and likewise been able to make his career as long-lasting.
This much I do know, and it’s that Hugh Downs never lost his high regard for his friend Dave Garroway. Many years ago a friend was hoping to produce a documentary about Garroway, and one of the people he called on during his initial investigation was Hugh Downs. Not only was Downs happy to learn of the project, he offered to narrate it. Alas, the documentary never happened, and with it went the chance to hear Downs tell the story of his friend and colleague. It’s my hope, however, that they’re now reunited in the hereafter, maybe hanging around with Studs Terkel and Burr Tillstrom telling stories about the good old days in Chicago.
If there are morning shows in heaven, you know that with Dave Garroway and Hugh Downs at the anchor desk, it’s got to be worth watching.
Today a new president takes the oath of office.5 Sixty years ago today a new president6 took the oath of office, and Dave Garroway and Today were there to cover the impending transfer of power.
Here’s Dave talking with Sen. Mike Mansfield, Sen. Everett Dirksen7, Rep. Charles Halleck, and Rep. Sam Rayburn.8 At right is Martin Agronsky of NBC News.
Here Dave is interviewing Pat McMahon, who was a member of the PT-109 crew. McMahon was badly burned in the aftermath of the accident and unable to swim. His commanding officer, John F. Kennedy, saved his life. McMahon and Garroway are standing in front of the Kennedys’ house in Georgetown.
Dave has a cup of coffee and shares a laugh with Joseph Donahue, chairman of the inauguration parade committee, and Maj. Gen. Charles K. Gailey of the Military District of Washington. Kennedy’s inauguration was famously chilly, so I hope there was a lot of hot coffee available all around.
Dave during a break in the program, framed against the Capitol’s pillars.
Dave in the seating for the inauguration parade outside the White House. Here you can see just how deep the snow was prior to the 1961 inauguration. We won’t get that this year, alas.
And here’s Dave visiting the big reviewing platform where the new President would watch the parade. He’s standing with a couple of very special people. Who might they be? Let’s take a closer look…
…and look who it is! It’s Dave with daughter Paris and stepson Michael, who accompanied him to the inauguration. What a memory to have, no?
On January 14, 1982 Today marked its thirtieth anniversary.9 As it tended to do on its milestone anniversaries, Today devoted much of the program to a big celebration. The 1982 anniversary special was unexpectedly poignant, and it’s for a reason we’ll get to in a little while.
As most Today anniversaries do, this one began with a glimpse at a few moments from that very first telecast.
Then we return to the studio, where we see Jack Lescoulie and Dave Garroway joking with each other about the spelling of Lescoulie’s last name.10 The rapport between the two melts away the years, and for a moment it’s like 1954.
Bryant Gumbel – who had just taken over as co-host after Tom Brokaw accepted the NBC Nightly News anchor slot – introduces the men he calls “the originals,” Lescoulie, Garroway and Frank Blair.11
Gumbel asks Garroway what they were thinking the first day. And at this point, Garroway sounds like a grandfather dispensing advice. “You are now in the first phases of the beginning of your real life, Bryant,” he says. “You’ll find that out in the years to come. At least, I did.” Gumbel asks if it really was an adventure for him. “It changes you from one man into another. Did me. And you will feel differently about the world, very much so, if you’re on like three, four, five years.”
Gumbel notes that Lescoulie was called “the saver,” and Lescoulie described the origins of that: Garroway instructing him to walk in if he ever thought Dave was getting dull or an interview wasn’t going right. “Now, that kind of trust you don’t get very often!” Lescoulie said. Garroway mentions hearing Lescoulie as host of The Grouch Club, and suggesting him to Pat Weaver as a result.
Frank Blair remembers the task they had, which was to get people to watch at seven in the morning. He and Lescoulie recall John Crosby’s famous “What hath God and NBC wrought?” review, and that the show couldn’t last beyond thirteen weeks. At this point, Garroway jumps in: “Well, all the pioneers, you know – Copernicus, Galileo, we all suffered the first year or two!”12 There’s a little laughter from the panel. “That’s true!” Lescoulie says. “You’re putting us in pretty fast company, though.”
Jane Pauley asks Garroway about his statement on the first program “to be informative without being terribly stuffy.” She asks why Garroway was afraid of being stuffy. “I don’t like stuffy things, or people, very much, I guess,” he says. “And there was so much to talk about, and do, and there still is in the world, that I don’t find it a very stuffy world even today. And if you can get the world over to them, it’s great.” And with that, the inevitable topic of J. Fred Muggs comes up. “You didn’t consider that at all demeaning because you’re not a stuffy guy, eh?” Pauley asks. “No!” Garroway says. “He was a charming, marvelous beast.” At which point Garroway pulls out a TV Guide and says that Muggs is more in the public eye today than he has ever been,13 and as evidence shows the magazine’s “Distinguished J. Fred Muggs Awards.”14 To which Garroway says, “This chimpanzee has been off the air for twenty-one years! And yet he’s still in the public eye!”
After a break – or as Gumbel says to Garroway, “what you used to call a recess” – Pat Weaver joins the panel. Gumbel asks why a chimpanzee joined the program. “Well, a pleasant little small ape – you know, if you got a gorilla, it might have scared Dave and Jack! I don’t think it would have worked with a gorilla!” Weaver explains that one of the problems they faced was that children would turn the set to cartoons, so they needed something that could effectively compete. “When Muggs did happen, it was the ideal solution to a problem that we faced in the early days, which is how to get the kids to like the show.”
In the next segment, Gumbel talks to John Chancellor and Edwin Newman, who joined Today when Garroway left. “You replaced Dave Garroway,” Gumbel says to Chancellor. “Tough act. What were your thoughts?”
Before Gumbel can finish his question, Chancellor slumps over, puts his head on Gumbel’s shoulder, and snores loudly. Then he snaps back up. “Well, that was one of my thoughts,” Chancellor says. “I couldn’t believe we were on that early. It was a very difficult act to follow, and I’m not sure I was really able to fill those shoes, which I learned to be about size eighteen. Dave was one of the most magnificent communicators I had ever known and I suppose some of us learned – I think maybe Edwin did, too – from David and from Jack Lescoulie to be a little easier on television. I think most of us were very solemn when we were doing the news, and I loosened up a lot when I was on the Today show, and I think Ed did too.” Chancellor talks about how serious the show was when he took over, with a lot of heavy global and national topics balanced with some of the lighter things they did. “And they’ve threatened me by showing some of the lighter things that we’ve done.”15
Gumbel then asks Newman about a couple of famous moments from his time on Today, including the time he abruptly cut off an interview with George Jessel that was going off the rails,16 and the time Newman interviewed himself about his book Strictly Speaking.17
Throughout the morning there are birthday wishes at the end of segments. Here’s one from the Blues Brothers.
Later segments are less Garroway-centric, but still give us glimpses of a bygone era. Here, Gene Shalit has a few minutes with Barbara Walters, who talks about how she was the last person hired when Dave Garroway was still there, so there was really nobody on the show she didn’t know.
We then see some other historic moments, such as greetings from Pope Paul VI via satellite:
…then a clip from the program’s visit to Romania:
…and the Orient:
…and to London.
And then there’s top-of-the-hour greetings. Some views of the set:
But even in the midst of celebration, the world continues to turn, and the second hour begins with a news update from Chris Wallace in Washington. The big story was the previous day’s crash of Air Florida Flight 90 after it took off from Washington National Airport.
After some updates on the crash and investigation from correspondents in Washington, Wallace talks to NBC technician Jim Bigger, who had been returning to the Washington bureau from an assignment at the Pentagon.
Bigger was less than half a mile from the scene – as he tells Wallace, “close enough to know I was glad that I was no closer” – and provides a chilling report, saying it looked for all the world like the plane was going to land on the bridge, that the plane was in a stall configuration with nose up and tail down, and a lot of noise.18 The plane, Bigger says, settled on the span of the bridge and then disappeared. “There was almost an eerie sense of silence,” he says. “There was nothing, and the aroma of jet fuel began to permeate the air and we knew there was an aircraft in the river. There was no place else for him to go.”
Then it’s to Willard Scott with the weather. He begins by acknowledging the crash – “Our hearts go out to everyone down there” – and the big weather story, which is a huge winter storm system covering much of the United States.19 Willard mentions that Phil Donahue had been scheduled to appear on today’s program but was stuck in Boston. “Enjoy your second cup,” Willard advises him.
Gene Shalit does a longer interview with Barbara Walters, mentioning a time that “a really tough subject almost got the better of Barbara Walters,” and asks that a monitor be nearby for her to see the clip. But it’s not of a prime minister or celebrity trying to squeeze out from a hard question; instead, it’s this:
And her response:
Walters talks about how the times have changed for women; when she started on Today as a writer, they only had one female writer at a time, and they only wrote women’s stories. Producer Shad Northshield championed her, saying that Walters was capable of writing about anything, so she wrote about more topics and eventually became an on-air reporter. When she sees someone like Jane Pauley in a prominent role, she says, it is a sign that times have changed since those early days.
The interview continues after the break, as Hugh Downs20 joins Shalit and Walters. “I would not have been on the air were it not for Hugh and his generosity,” Walters says, “because they didn’t take writers and put them on the air. And so many of the opportunities I had were because this was a man who was never jealous, and never small.” They talk about her reputation as a tough questioner, and she talks about how she gets people to open up on sensitive topics. Downs backs her up, saying he’s never heard her be mean to an interviewee.
Then there’s a segment about Joe Garagiola that turns into a roast, of sorts. But it takes a serious turn when Gumbel talks about being offered the Today job; when the offer came, Gumbel knew there was someone who could give him advice about moving from sports to a general-interest morning program, because he’d done it. Gumbel thanks “my buddy here” and says “I will forever appreciate it. Thank you.”
Jane Pauley references the station break cue “We’ll be back; don’t go far,” and how that was the trademark of Frank McGee. She introduces Jim Hartz, who was McGee’s longtime friend and who succeeded McGee as Today host when he died in 1974.
Hartz, an Oklahoman like McGee, talks about their close friendship and remembers McGee’s distinguished career. “As a reporter he was all business – no nonsense, nothing fancy,” Hartz says.
“On camera he was blunt, sometimes abrasive21, but never lost what one critic called his ministerial dignity. Away from here, though, on the farm down in Virginia, Frank was relaxed and warm and funny. One of the things he told me he liked most about the Today show was the luxury of enough time to be himself, to let the other side of his personality come out.”22
In the next segment, a clip of Dave Garroway doing the weather with the help of Lee Ann Meriwether is followed by Willard Scott doing that day’s weather with the help of Lee Ann Meriwether. She remembers how the weather was outlined on the map in red, which couldn’t be seen on black-and-white television, so they only had to trace over it. “And it made me look so intelligent!”
After they ham it up for a few minutes, Jane Pauley and Gene Shalit visit with Tom Brokaw. He remembers coming to New York for the World’s Fair and looking in the window at the Today Show,23 and holding up a sign plugging Today in Omaha. “I thought that was going to be my one network shot, and as a penalty I had to come back and do it for five and a half years.”
After a segment showing times when presidents had given interviews to Today, including Harry Truman’s post-presidency strolls past the big windows, Gumbel throws to Willard Scott, who’s on the 49th Street sidewalk opposite the old Exhibition Hall.
After talking to a woman who said she remembers watching the first Today program, Willard just happens to bump into David Letterman, whose new NBC late-night program begins Feb. 1. Letterman congratulates everyone on Today on the show’s thirtieth anniversary – “and I know that means a lot coming from a guy whose own show lasted eighteen weeks.”24
And then one more celebrity greeting, this one from Steve Martin.
As the two hours come to an end, Gumbel talks about all the hours of programming on over 7,810 broadcasts – “and if that doesn’t humble you a little bit on this January 14th, 1982, then I am not sure what does” – and then each Today alum identifies themselves.
One is saved for last – as Gumbel says, a very special goodbye from a very special man. “Sentimental Journey” comes up in the background.
“I’m Dave Garroway…and peace.”
There is applause. Gene Shalit hands Garroway the first piece from the enormous birthday cake. Lee Ann Meriwether, Florence Henderson, Helen O’Connell and Betsy Palmer – former Today Girls – gather around Garroway. He holds the plate and says to them, “I said ‘peace’ and I got one!” They laugh and hug him.
No one knew how poignant the moment would be. Six months, one week and one day later, the same studio that hosted a joyous celebration, and some of the same people who had gathered for that celebration, would be holding an on-air memorial for Dave Garroway, who had died the day before. No one knew, or could have known. In a thank-you letter to producer Steve Friedman, Garroway had written of the fun he had coming back for the show. He ended the letter, “Now, let’s talk about 1987.”
If only it could have been.
Here are a few more photos to supplement the screengrabs above:
Some years ago I made reference to a 1953 Esquire article by Richard Gehman. This article captured what it was like when Today was young and everything seemed brand-new, and cast and crew were coping with life at an hour that still seemed far too early for television. Back when I wrote about it, the best I could do was give you a summary of the article, for the Esquire archive was paywalled.
As I work industriously on bringing you the finest in Dave Garroway-centric literature25, I come across tidbits that, although they won’t quite fit in the book itself, are too good to let fall down the memory hole. Like this item, from the Sept. 3, 1953 Brooklyn Daily Eagle. Wow, would that would be a lot of fun to bring home from the store in the Toyota.
And here’s that big window, with the blinds sporting a nifty logo.
Of all the historic studios at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, the most famous is Studio 8H. Since 1975, 8H has been famous as the home of Saturday Night Live. For that reason, it’s the studio everybody hopes to see on the NBC Studio Tour. There’s no question SNL is the chief tenant of 8H; there’s an elaborate permanent set, the corridors are lined with photos of previous hosts and cast members, and Lorne Michaels has a ninth-floor office with a glass window overlooking the studio.26 Outside the balcony entrance there’s a display case where costumes from famous SNL characters are on display.27
But that’s not all 8H is known for. If we could look at a cross-section of the big studio’s history, we’d find all sorts of history. We would see, for instance, the many times NBC News based special events coverage – election nights, space missions – from the big studio. We would see live drama and musical programs from the early days of television. Going back into the days of radio, we’d learn about stars like Fred Allen hosting their series from 8H.28 We’d learn the studio has had several names over the years.29 We’d learn that 8H had seen innovation, and in itself is something of a marvel.30
And, of course, you cannot talk about 8H without talking about its most prestigious resident. For next to that display case near the ninth floor balcony entrance, there’s another case that preserves for posterity the music stand used by the great Arturo Toscanini. RCA president David Sarnoff persuaded Toscanini to head up a symphony orchestra for NBC, believing the radio medium needed to improve its commitment to cultural and artistic programming. From 1937 to his retirement in 195431 Toscanini headed NBC’s symphony orchestra, which performed regularly for the network, and performed for many of those years from 8H.32
By now you’re no doubt asking what all this has to do with Dave Garroway. Well, I had to tell you those stories to get to this story. In a way, 8H was where Dave Garroway’s NBC career began, and ended.
As a 24-year-old NBC page, Dave got to know the RCA Building very well. As a tour guide, he had to know the studios very well in order to explain their purpose to visitors. Sometimes he was in proximity with dignitaries and celebrities; directing Lowell Thomas to the correct studio, or after a tour he led drew particular praise, being chosen by David Sarnoff to lead tours for distinguished visitors. And sometimes Garroway would watch history unfold. When Toscanini was hired to lead the NBC Symphony Orchestra, Garroway saw the preparations that were being made to keep the notoriously temperamental maestro happy: the tour routes that were changed, the corridors that were set up, all to minimize the chances of Toscanini getting annoyed.
Sometimes Garroway would get to perform page duties during Toscanini’s rehearsals, during the months before the first concert. As the “stand-in” page, Garroway guarded the door of 8H so no one could get in or out while the great man conducted. And in time, Garroway assisted with the live broadcasts. Years later he would remember all the special considerations; for instance, the programs given to audience members were printed on silk33, so the rustle of audience members turning pages wouldn’t spoil the performance or irritate the great conductor.
But not all was perfect even then. One evening, in the middle of a Brahms symphony, a woman in the audience began to retch. She could not leave; the studio was too full. Garroway remembered how the smell filled the studio. It soon reached Toscanini, who looked back just long enough to glare at the audience. During an intermission the pages brought in buckets of sand and cleaned up as best they could, while the unfortunate woman was taken away in a wheelchair, a bag over her face to hide her embarrassment. Other memories of 8H would dot Garroway’s memory, such as being there when a guest on Fred Allen’s show literally endangered his safety by flubbing his lines.34
Over the years Garroway’s duties would bring him through 8H. But there would be none so poignant as June 15, 1961.
As programs sometimes do, Today had shifted from its usual home in mid-June 1961. Studio 3B, the program’s usual home, needed to be vacated for a while, so Today was shifted into 8H, which was spacious and available. Framed correctly by the studio cameras, no one would really know the difference.35 But bigger changes were coming. The biggest was that on May 26, Garroway had requested his release from Today. There were several factors behind this. Dave’s wife had died the previous month. He was wearing out after years of a grueling schedule. He was at loggerheads with NBC, which wanted to move Today under the control of the news department, change the format, and greatly reduce Garroway’s role and influence on the program. The management of the news division didn’t see Garroway as a journalist, and this irked him no end.36
For these and other reasons, Garroway wanted out of his Today obligations. And it happened that on his last week, Today was originating from the studio where some of his most memorable page duties had taken place. During one segment in that final week, Garroway donned his old page jacket and took viewers on a tour of 8H. The tour featured photographs and recordings of those Toscanini performances, of Fred Allen’s programs, and of other stars of a bygone age.
On Garroway’s last live program37, he took the last two minutes to say farewell, although he insisted it wasn’t really a farewell. “I’m leaving television very temporarily,” he said, “for enough time to find out what’s going on, listen to people instead of talk – when you talk a lot, you don’t hear much, you know, and you don’t read much either when you do the Today show.” Garroway expressed his desire to learn more about the world so he could come back through television “and do more to preserve that in which I hope you and I believe, this system of government, and the human individual.” He thanked viewers for all the letters they had written and said they would each be answered, but it may take a while, “so let me thank you right now, very much, for them.” And one final time, Garroway wished the audience “much love…and peace.”
A decade and a half later, Garroway would recall his last day as the most memorable of his career, as he walked “slowly and regretfully” from the studio…the studio that had figured so often in so many vivid memories from his career at NBC.
:: While we’re talking about NBC’s famous studios, may I please recommend you treat yourself to a copy of William Bartlett’s splendid book NBC And 30 Rock? It is thoroughly researched, well-written and lavishly illustrated, and I guarantee you’ll find some happy surprises therein. Seriously, treat yourself to one.
There are times when the work I am doing on the life of Dave Garroway, though those events took place decades ago, has echoes of the times in which we now live. And sometimes, those echoes are for the saddest reasons.
Over the last several weeks, I have been transcribing a handwritten log of articles I’ve saved from my searches in archival newspapers. You rediscover a lot of things you’d put aside in your head when you do that. Some of the rediscovered items are funny, and some are goofy. I had planned this week to write about a few cute little pieces I’d found about Garroway, along with Steve Allen and a few others, making it cool to wear glasses.
But this week isn’t the time for that. Not with what’s going on right now, not with its raw and inescapable sadness and frustration, the vaguely sick feeling it’s provided, and the many reminders of how much we’ve fallen short and how far we have yet to go. All of this has made me think, instead, about some things that echo with disturbing similarities.
In the last few days, I have been working on the late 1950s and early 1960s. By this time Dave Garroway, having hosted Today for several years and being very successful in so doing, had very much made the show his. The program had moved into heavier content as its novelty wore off, and Garroway had not been hesitant in using the program to bring attention to things that concerned him. One of those things was the cause of civil rights.
A few years back I covered an instance when Garroway faced down a bunch of bigots who were heckling a young Sarah Vaughan. To him, such things weren’t a pose; equality, and thinking for yourself, were core values. His father had taught him to get all the facts before judging anyone or anything, and it was a lesson he never forgot.
Garroway’s commitment continued into the Today years, both on the program and behind the scenes. Prominent figures for justice such as Thurgood Marshall would be interviewed by Garroway, as would victims of injustice, such as a black applicant who was denied a job as a page in the House of Representatives. Black entertainers such as Erroll Garner were prominently featured.38 On a March 1961 edition of Today, Garroway devoted both hours to Oscar Brown to help raise support for his his musical Kicks & Co.; within days the musical, which needed backers for part of its $400,000 budget, had received thousands in donations from dozens of viewers, ranging from a music teacher’s check for $5.00 to two separate donations of $5,000.
One day in December 1957, when it was learned that an elevator operator at Rockefeller Center had been the first black military pilot and a World War I hero, Garroway insisted on interviewing that man, Eugene Bullard, on Today. At the end of the interview, the crew spontaneously applauded.
Today‘s commitment to equality didn’t just apply to what people saw on camera; behind the scenes, for instance, Fred Lights became network television’s first African-American stage manager.39
It would be comforting to think Garroway’s take on matters of equality was warmly received. But it wasn’t always. Going through the archival collections from that era, we find signs of those times in sad abundance. Some examples: a South Carolina newspaper editorial accusing Garroway of “dramatizing” the crisis around the integration of a Little Rock school in 1957, or a letter to a Florida newspaper calling Garroway “one-sided” and “out to get the MVP award from the NAACP.” When Sen. Strom Thurmond appeared on Today after his marathon filibuster against civil rights legislation, Garroway asked Thurmond if the filibuster was meant to counter the possibility that South Carolina Gov. George Timmerman might run against him in 1960; Timmerman, himself no friend of civil rights, told a newspaper that if he ran, “I won’t leave it up to a nincompoop like Dave Garroway to make an announcement for me.”
While some of that is rather ripe, nothing can match the venom aimed at Garroway from a couple of states in particular during the period from 1956 to 1961. Going through papers from Mississippi and Louisiana in particular will make you acquainted with some particularly awful editorials and opinion pieces.40 For instance, a December 1956 Today story about prosecutors rebutting a story of bigotry motivating a prosecution was blasted by a Mississippi paper as being slanted. When Mississippi Gov. James Coleman was interviewed in April 1957, an editorial charged Garroway with asking “loaded questions” and displaying a “slight air of holding his nose.” A subsequent editorial accused the press of hating Mississippi and looking for angles to get that slant in.41 Even an item about Lynda Mead being the second consecutive Miss Mississippi to be crowned Miss America found a way to slam Garroway as “one of those northern bigots who likes to lambast the South with innuendo” and hoped he would “change his tune after his audience rating falls off drastically.”42
In May 1961, as the Freedom Riders challenged segregation laws in the South, Garroway aired a piece about one of the movement’s figures, activist James Peck, on Today. Peck, whose long tenure as an activist in several movements had seen him arrested several times, was called a felon by Mississippi Gov. James Eastland in an effort to discredit the Freedom Riders movement. The Peck interview on Today was yet another opening for segregationists to attack Garroway.43 Subsequent editorials called Garroway a “South-baiter” and slammed his impending resignation from Today as a hypocritical act.44 Another editorial praised the mayor of Jackson “for his word duel with TV Communistator Dave Garroway, whose soon departure from the networks will cause no tears to drop in Dixie.” Yet another extended hollow condolences on the death of Garroway’s wife: “Of course we know of the terrible tragedy in his family and we offer our deepest sympathy45 but we believe that his leaving the air lanes will be one of the greatest aids the South could have had, by his absence.” A columnist called “Davie Garroway’s Today show” as “offensive to Dixie” and “due to lose its bigoted star…Dour Dave.”46
Garroway would sometimes wonder if his outspokenness on civil rights had cost him, both in terms of his career and in his personal affairs.47 And there were times when he was at personal risk. Dave Jr. remembered a story in which his dad went to a jazz club in the South and stepped outside for some fresh air. Garroway suddenly found himself surrounded by a group of angry bigots who called him “a (racial slur beginning with ‘n’) lover” and tried to shove him around. The band leader saw this, gave a signal to his band mates, and, still playing, they marched out of the club. Without missing a note on their instruments, they surrounded Garroway and shielded him from the bigots.
There are many things troubling us right now. I hope someday soon I’m writing on more uplifting aspects of Garroway’s life. This, however, was too uncomfortable a parallel with our current moment. As in the times Garroway lived, we’ve got some work to do.
One of Today‘s most famous features in the early years was the big window along 49th Street. Not only could people watch Today as it was being produced live, but often the people on the street became part of the show. The RCA Exhibition Hall became kind of a tourist magnet in those years, and there are many stories of how some onlookers used that window and the chance to be on television for purposes sweet (a man who stopped by the window and greeted his mute mother in sign language) and sneaky (a man who used the window to plug a competing show).
But the window didn’t last forever, and Today moved out of the RCA Exhibition Hall in July 1958. Part of it was practical – putting the show in a storefront had brought challenges, and there was only so much space. Part of it was because a rival television manufacturer had charged that it was unfair competition for NBC to put on a television show in its parent company’s glass-fronted exhibition hall, where RCA’s products could be seen on television.
So came the move across the street, and on July 7, 1958 Today began to originate from Studio 3K48 in the RCA Building49 Although there was some amazement at how much more spacious the new studio was (associate producer Mary Kelly marveled to a reporter that the new control room seemed as big as the old studio), there were things the show missed. A lot of memories and a lot of history had been made in the Exhibition Hall. Betsy Palmer50 would remember that the window provided a form of connection with the audience, and the audience with the show. It was live and spontaneous. “When we went into the third-floor studio,” she said, “all of a sudden it was like losing the air.”51
And it didn’t take long to realize something was missing. That big window had provided more than just a trademark for Today; it also had a practical function. When there was time to fill, or when there was a cutaway to a break, that window and the people on the other side were a convenient and interesting visual. Now, inside the studio, that was gone. This became obvious the first day. Stage manager Fred Lights52 would later remember a gap of about thirty seconds they had to fill with something. “No one had thought about a replacement for the window,” Lights said. “We had nothing to shoot. You should have seen the shock, the chaos, that first morning in the studio. It looked like the chariot race for Ben Hur.”
And immediately after the show was finished, they solved the problem. A fish tank was brought into 3K. Now, when a visual was needed, the camera would linger on sights aquatic. Sometimes this would be built into the show’s rundown; during the five-minute “co-op” made available to local stations, those remaining with the network might see Garroway and the rest of the cast chatting, or they might get the fish swimming lazily along as music played behind.
Other tactics were employed to bring back some spontaneity. In January 1959, bleachers for a studio audience were set up in the studio, and 40 people each day were allowed to watch the show (but were not provided with coffee).53 But that experiment proved short-lived. The fish tank remained, but it couldn’t take the place of what had been left behind on the street below.
In 1962 Today took another try at capturing the spontaneity of a decade before. Through an arrangement with Florida’s tourism board, NBC originated Today from the Florida Showcase, the state’s tourism office on the ground floor of 30 Rock, with big display windows along 49th Street. For three years passersby could look in, watch the show on the air, and occasionally be captured by the cameras. But this came at a price, as each day the set had to be taken down and all the television equipment stowed away so Florida’s tourism office could conduct business. Plus NBC, going full-color, couldn’t justify keeping several precious (and HUGE54) color cameras down on the ground floor when they were needed in the main studios upstairs. So once again, Today lost its window on New York. For nearly three decades, the views of New York from within the Today studio would be through graphics.
In June 1994 Today went back to where it all began – or, at least, next door. A building on the corner of Rockefeller Plaza and 49th Street was converted into a modern television studio known as Studio 1A. With large glass windows along two sides, Today had gone back to its roots. And just as happened in the days when Garroway held court in the Exhibition Hall just down the street, it didn’t take long for the people outside the window to become part of the show. And, once again, a big window on 49th Street has become a must-see for tourists visiting New York.
January 14, 2020 is the 68th anniversary of Today, and to mark the occasion let’s not look at the program as it is now. Instead, let’s go back to the morning of January 14, 1977 and see how Today marked its 25th birthday. It was something really special.
I’ve seen several of the anniversary programs – the 25th, the 30th, the 35th, the 40th and 50th55 – but of them all, the 25th anniversary was the one that put the most effort into calling back to those first years. And while the others may have been a little more stylish, or might have even spawned a prime-time retrospective, there was something special about the 25th anniversary special that none of the others fully matched.
We see this special theme from the very beginning: the screen is black and white, there’s an in-studio reproduction (though not exact) of the original communicator’s desk from the RCA Exhibition Hall, and the first voice you hear is that of Jack Lescoulie re-creating a version of that very first morning’s open.
And there’s Dave Garroway himself, happy to see you. “Hello, old friend, and good morning, too! As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted myself, seventeen years and thirty-eight days ago, we’re about to give you the news of the morning.”56 Garroway recounts the major headline of that first day in 1952 – the captain of the freighter Flying Enterprise is about to receive a hero’s welcome – and then throws to news editor Frank Blair.
It’s Blair (who wasn’t on the show that first morning, of course)57 who breaks the spell. “You know, they really used to call me that, Dave, 25 years ago?” Blair pretends to read a bulletin that what you’re seeing is not a dream, but let’s go across the studio to Tom Brokaw.
And with that, we’re in color and in 1977, and everyone has a good laugh. Brokaw explains the concept: they have turned the studio into a time machine so they can revisit the last 25 years. It’s a birthday party to which we’re all invited.
Brokaw explains that when Today first went on the air, he was living in a place where they could barely get television, and that co-host Jane Pauley was trying to learn how to walk. “And I was bald,” she adds. (Gene Shalit, asked where he was in 1952, said he wasn’t bald.)
The real headlines of January 14, 1977 are presented by the current news editor, Floyd Kalber. The big stories of the morning: the death of Anthony Eden, winter storms across Europe, a good part of the United States under extreme cold, and the following week’s inauguration of Jimmy Carter as president.
There’s then a short local break, during which the weather from across the country scrolls on the screen, along with the affiliates’ call letters, while music plays. Keeping with the morning’s throwback theme, the music selections are big band standards as re-recorded by Enoch Light and The Light Brigade.58
After the break, Kalber revisits the top story of January 14, 1952 and we see newsreel footage of the stricken Flying Enterprise and the hero’s welcome for Captain Carlsen. Kalber then throws to Lew Wood, who does the morning’s weather.
There’s another break, then the party begins. Brokaw is at the old desk replica with Garroway, Lescoulie and Blair.
Brokaw begins by calling Garroway “a heroic figure to a generation of young people who grew up wanting to get into broadcasting.”
He then introduces a clip from October 1955 to show what the program was like back then. The clip has Garroway throwing to Frank Blair for that morning’s headlines (which, strangely enough, also involved Anthony Eden). From the vantage point of 1977, the men laugh at what they’ve just seen. Lescoulie says of Blair, “He was a little nervous in those days. It took him two Bloody Marys to get the top off his Miltown bottle!” Blair ruefully says, “That came later. That came later.”59
Brokaw asks Garroway how confident he felt about the program’s prospects when he agreed to join the show. Garroway recalls that when he met the people he was going to work with, he took out a four-year lease on a penthouse apartment on Park Avenue. Prompted to recall his most memorable moment: “June 19, 1961.60 Walking slowly and regretfully out of the studio.” Common questions follow: did J. Fred Muggs really bite? Blair instantly warns Garroway, “You’re gonna get sued!” Garroway claims the NBC dispensary has multiple reports in its files of vaccinations he received after chimp bites. This prompts recollections of various incidents involving Muggs, as well as the lawsuit Muggs’ caretakers filed against Garroway, Lescoulie and NBC. And with that, we see a clip of Muggs attacking Jack Lescoulie’s desk one morning.
Blair also mentions that all three of them are working on books. Blair promotes the upcoming publication of Let’s Be Frank About It (and the title draws a howl from Lescoulie). Garroway mentions that he is writing “sort of an autobiography” with the working title “Garroway At Length.” Asked for a publication date, Garroway replies, “As soon as possible!” Lescoulie says he isn’t working hard on his because Blair’s would be out first. “Mine will be meaner than his,” Lescoulie says. In the meantime, he leads a good life with a lot of golf and a little writing, and he and his wife had never really given up the bright lights: “At least once a week we go over to the A&P if it’s open at night and do our shopping.”61
During the optional local break the discussion continues, for the affiliates that didn’t air a local news break at :25 after. Garroway tells Brokaw he didn’t feel television had lived up to its potential, that he had hoped the programming we would get would be more truthful and informative than what we ended up with. There’s also a brief discussion about lighter moments. We see a clip from the color era with Lescoulie disguised as Superman…
…then Lescoulie talks about a circus pantomime act he once did that stretched nearly ten minutes and left him completely spent at the end of it. Suddenly Garroway interrupts Lescoulie and tells him to smile at the camera. Lescoulie asks why. Garroway replies, “Jimmy Carter!”
Brokaw asks about embarrassing moments. “The day I sat down and there was no chair there,” Garroway says. Blair remembered an event when Garroway didn’t realize his fly was open. “That didn’t embarrass me at all!” Garroway replies, deadpan. In the background, you hear the studio crew cracking up.
The next half-hour begins with another clip from October 1955: Lescoulie introducing the segment, interrupted by Gertrude Berg:
Then Brokaw and Pauley preview the upcoming segments, followed by news from Floyd Kalber and weather from Lew Wood, who shows a clip of how the weather was done in 1955.
We then see a segment on all the places Today has been and the technological innovations of the last 25 years. Then Jane Pauley introduces a 1955 clip observing National Doughnut Week, in which Garroway demonstrates a series of accessories for your coffee-and-doughnut habit: a pinkie rest, a cup for retrieving your doughnut if it falls in the cup, tongs for retrieving a doughnut, and a spoon for stirring your coffee. Of them all, Garroway likes the pinky rest the best. He says it makes you feel strong all over.
Gene Shalit then introduces Lionel Hampton and His Jazz Inner Circle. They perform a medley of the program’s various theme songs62 under a montage of famous guests.
At the end of the hour is what Brokaw calls a “family portrait” – the current staff with Garroway, Lescoulie and Blair.
Brokaw asks Garroway to give his famous sign-off. Garroway obliges, talking about something “that we have a great deal of and need so much more of…peace.” A few seconds later, Blair softly says, “God love you.”63
The next hour begins with another simulation of that first day. This time, Lescoulie introduces the Master Communicator with “here’s old four-eyes himself, Dave Garroway!” Garroway wishes the audience good morning – “Once more we meet after a quarter of a century and we’re still making it, aren’t we? You and me. And so is Today, after a quarter-century.” Garroway forgets to give a cue to Frank Blair, and there are several seconds of silence. When they realize what’s happened, everybody cracks up. “Nothing’s changed!” Once it’s all straightened out, Blair introduces “the new boy on the block, Tom Brokaw.”
After the news and weather, Brokaw conducts a desk interview with Garroway and Pat Weaver.
The former NBC executive talks about the idea behind Today. He had known for many years there was a morning audience with a lot of potential, and he wondered if he couldn’t do something better than another morning “gang” show – instead, a show that had information, but had enough showmanship to attract an audience. And here Brokaw introduces about thirty seconds of a promotional film NBC had put together to sell the Today concept to affiliates. Over a montage of clips of Churchill, Truman, Stalin, Eisenhower and other important figures, as dramatic music plays behind, a narrator talks about how “a program like this is a magnificent use of the tool of television in its ultimate social responsibility,” and that the viewer would get information to be a responsible citizen in a free society. “His horizon will be limited by neither time nor place.”
As the film ends and its music swells to a conclusion, we see the enormous water vapor cloud from the second Bikini atom-bomb test, and a primitive (almost frightening) Today logo. “This is the real secret weapon of free men,” the narrator says. “To know, to understand, so that John Smith is ready for today…whatever it may bring.”64
Back in the studio, Brokaw gives credit to Garroway for his talent in helping make the show succeed. Weaver recalls how Garroway came in from Chicago and asked to do the show, and that Weaver quickly realized that Garroway’s “command and serenity” in the midst of the show’s chaos would work well. Brokaw asks Weaver how he would change television in 1977. “Oh, you’ll need an hour for that,” he replies with a verbal eye-roll.
The discussion continues into the local-option break. Brokaw introduces a piece by Paul Cunningham on how the Today model has been adapted worldwide. After the piece, Brokaw muses that in Britain they’re called “presenters” and Weaver insisted on the title “communicators,” and now Brokaw’s title was “host,” which made him feel like he should be serving breakfast to his fellow on-air personalities. Weaver didn’t like that title. “I’d knock that off fast!” he said. Garroway informs us that to this day, he’s still remembered for Today – for every one person who remembers Garroway at Large there will be two people who know him from Today. What fascinated him, he recalled, about the Today job was that at that hour, people’s minds were open. “It’s almost a blank slate.” Brokaw thanks Weaver and Garroway for what they have done to make Today last. Weaver replies, “See you on the fiftieth!” Garroway follows: “Amen!”65
The final half-hour doesn’t have a lot about Garroway and Lescoulie and Blair, but it does begin with a nod to the storefront studio window and a simplified version of the move inside 30 Rock for the move to color broadcasting.66 There’s news, and then after a commercial we get a live spot for Alpo with Gene Shalit:
And Lew Wood does a spot at the desk for True Value Hardware Stores.
Then there’s a discussion about what the preceding 25 years have meant for society and the country. The panelists are Daniel Boorstin, Pulitzer-winning historian and Librarian of Congress; Charlotte Curtis, editor of the op-ed page of the New York Times; and Martin Marty of the Christian Century, who is also a professor at the University of Chicago.67 It’s a lengthy and thoughtful discussion of the sort you would never see on the modern Today program.
After a break, we get another Lionel Hampton performance. This time, the music plays behind a montage of photos of Today‘s people from the last quarter-century. It’s a simple but really cool tribute.
After the final break, Tom Brokaw stands with the morning’s guests and the show’s current staff. He says that two prominent television critics of the day gave Today bad reviews and shares some of the more pointed quotes from them. Then Brokaw points out that both those newspapers are no longer around, but Today still is. “While much has changed over 25 years, one hope that has been with this program from the very beginning has not changed.” At which point, Brokaw nods to Dave Garroway, who says, “That hope is some love…and peace.”
As the cameras pull back, you can just see Garroway move over to the giant birthday cake and pretend to give it a karate-chop, much to everyone’s amusement.
And that’s how Today celebrated its 25th anniversary: a little silly and a lot sentimental, but all of it memorable.
Last week we lost another longtime NBC crewmember. Phil Hymes, a lighting director whose NBC career began in 1951 and spanned decades, with a credits list including everything from Your Hit Parade and The Bell Telephone Hour to Late Night with Seth Meyers and Jimmy Fallon’s Tonight Show, passed away last week at age 96.
In reading the obits for Phil Hymes you find phrases like “the best” and “creative” (mixed in, of course, with comments about how opinionated he could be – “brutally honest,” Fallon said, and that’s a recurring theme. Yes Please by Amy Poehler includes one such story of Phil being extremely candid). But as you read, you’re also struck by the span of the man’s career, how much he saw, and how many shows he worked on. Some of them didn’t last, some of them are forgotten, but some have endured. His most famous work was helping light Saturday Night Live, and as I work my way through the DVDs of the first five seasons, more often than not I see Phil Hymes among the familiar names on the credit scroll at the end of each episode.
And one of Phil’s first jobs at NBC? Lighting Today. That’s right, he would have been responsible for making Garroway and company look good from the very earliest days of Pat Weaver’s morning experiment. I don’t even want to know what had to go into figuring out how to make the interior of the RCA Exhibition Hall look so presentable on television (especially in those early days), but he somehow helped get it done.
People like Phil Hymes – and I’ve said things like this over and over, but I do so because it’s a point that cannot be overstated – are the people who helped carve a medium from the wilderness. They arrived as television was on the way up; they helped figure out how to make it work; and so much of how it’s now done, they wrote the book on. So many of them stuck around for so long, leaving their mark on generation after generation of programs. Along the way, they not only became part of the institutional history, but they retained so much of what they did and what they witnessed. Every television industry veteran with whom I’ve had a conversation…oh, the stories they can tell, the bygone eras they bring back to vivid (and sometimes hilarious) life, and what understanding they can help you reach about how it really was and how things worked back then. And every time we lose another one, we lose their stories, their perspectives, and so much more.
It’s inevitable that we will lose these people. But it also makes me thankful for initiatives like the Television Academy’s interview project, for the work of people like Stephen Bowie and Kliph Nesteroff, and all the others who work with industry veterans to record their memories and stories and perspectives. But it also makes me think about all those who vanished before we could get their contributions down for the record. And it again makes me think I need to do more than I have to help this cause.
Phil Hymes was a giant. And now, here’s hoping that what Lorne Michaels said has come true: “If God has him now, despite all the arguing, heaven will be much better lit.”