Wide Wide Blog

A new home for some old friends

I’ve written on here before about the importance of preserving television history. That’s not just in writing books about people like Dave Garroway, but also in preserving the things that remain. Some of those things are easy to preserve, like books and documents. Other pieces are a little more substantial, but still manageable. And then there’s some that require some effort. That’s what led to an adventure last week.

I’ve been friends with Bobby Ellerbee for several years, and on a few occasions I’ve visited him and his dogs at his home in Georgia. Over the years Bobby amassed a collection of television cameras that spanned a good half-century of the medium’s history. The first time I visited, two rooms were awash with just about every studio camera you could imagine, and his garage had just about enough surplus equipment to start a network.

Over the years, some of Bobby’s collection found new homes at museums or with film prop companies, but his camera room was still nicely populated. Recently, though, he bought a new house. It’s a nice house, but it doesn’t have the display area of the house he’s vacating. Bobby had to make some hard choices. To make a long story short, I got a phone call, and last week I rented a box truck and drove over to his house.

The more the truck filled up, the more I realized this was real, and I started to think about the two happiest days in the life of a boat owner.

In the space of about two and a half hours that Thursday, Bobby and three movers and I loaded four cameras and pedestals, a few boxes of equipment and books, and some other stuff we could put to work in our building. Bobby had told me to rent a truck with a lift gate, and it’s a very good thing I did. Camera pedestals are heavy. By 11 that morning the truck was loaded up and I was headed back home. I spent the afternoon and evening unloading the truck at the office, and that night I drove it back and reclaimed my car.1

The brave rental truck at the end of its travels with me. This was a happy moment, likely for both of us.

So, let’s see what we have.

Longtime readers will be familiar with this: the RCA TK-47. I already had one, but I certainly was not going to pass up another. Unlike mine, the internals of this one are still intact, and as I was cleaning it up I was interested to look inside.2 Bobby had installed vinyl lettering on either side to honor NBC’s flagship stations in New York and Los Angeles. Inside is a property tag from WISH-TV in Indianapolis. Part of me thinks it would be fitting to restore the WISH-TV livery, but I’m awfully fond of the genuine NBC stickers on there, especially since I associate the TK-47 with Saturday Night Live and David Letterman’s late-night NBC show.3 Fortunately, I’ve got a while to decide what to do.

A contemporary of the TK-47 is the Ikegami HK-312, which Bobby had decorated as an ABC camera of the 1980s. It’s appropriate, because ABC used Ikegamis a lot. The Ikegami doesn’t get recognized a lot but it was one of the workhorse cameras of its day, and you’ve watched a lot more television that was brought to you through these machines than you may realize. This particular one has some interesting labels inside about its history, and the box lens has an ABC property tag on it.

Now, here’s a rarity: a Marconi Mark VII. This one actually did belong to Tele-Tape Productions back in the day, which meant it spent a couple years at work in the early days of Sesame Street. What looks like sheet metal damage in the photo is really the reproduction logo, printed on vinyl, separating from the side of the camera. I’m going to replace that as soon as I can get the printing done (the design is pretty much done, but I just need to find someone who can print it to my specifications). In the meantime it’ll wear a rare and very interesting livery that a few Mark VIIs wore for a short period.

No, that’s not the pedestal they used under these when they were in service. Although, given their weight, you can sort of understand it.

And this stylish beast is the RCA TK-42. I’ve seen it described as RCA’s attempt to combine the color of the TK-41 with the sharpness of the monochrome TK-60. Unfortunately, ambition didn’t match execution and the TK-42 was not a hit. NBC itself really didn’t want anything to do with them, so TK-42s and TK-43s were often what brought local stations into the color era.4 The TK-42 was soon superseded by the great and durable TK-44. This one somehow made it to modern times, and even has the proper RCA pedestal and head most often seen beneath them. Unfortunately, it’s missing a few of its internals and has to be balanced with some weights inside, but from the outside you couldn’t tell. The black-and-gold RCA logo disappeared from the right side somewhere along the way, but a very helpful designer with a 3D printer was able to print up a replacement that looks just like it’s always been there, and I’m very happy.

We look much happier wearing the General’s lightning bolt. Now imagine how we’ll look once we’re back on our big ol’ pedestal and we can get a good all-over clean-up and shine.

There’s plenty left to do on these cameras. I’ve done some initial clean-up on them, but when I have time I want to give each one a good going-over to make them look as good as they can.5 There’s also a few things I may do as I find period-correct hardware for these machines. But all that’s down the road. Right now, what matters is that these old machines are safe in their new home, where young eyes will be able to see the equipment that helped make possible what they now take as a given.

Where have we been?

No, we haven’t disappeared, and we’re sorry if you think we have. The good news is that some good things have appeared during the lull. One of them is another episode of Garroway at Large, presented here for your enjoyment.

I’m hoping more are in the wings. These need to be preserved and seen, for it’s a glimpse at a fledgling medium spreading its wings (and even more time to spend with Our Dave in his pre-Today years, when he was at his most whimsical).

:: We may have been quiet here the last little while, but we have not been idle. One thing we’ve been working on is the next title from Tyger River Books, which published Peace. I’m happy to share that our second title (written by someone who is not me) will make its debut in May. The subject is another fascinating, multi-faceted person whose story had been lost to history for too long. I’ve read it (obviously) and it’s a great story you don’t want to miss. You can find out more about it here, and please keep an eye out for the book’s debut. It’s going to be something special.

Endings and beginnings

And here we are, as another year wheezes to its inevitable conclusion. I’ve thought sometimes about how the end of one year and the start of another is more psychological than anything; it’s not like the planet goes over a speedbump at midnight on New Year’s or anything like that, for life just goes on.1

Be that as it may, the last year has been eventful for the Garroway book project – at long last, the book got published in three delicious varieties, and it’s been well-received and some people have written and said some especially kind things about it, which has been gratifying. (And the book’s been published in time for the holidays, too. It makes a terrific gift. Just saying.)

What’s ahead for the Garroway project in 2024? Well, you’ve no doubt noticed our tempo here has eased; that’s the inevitable result of the book getting published, not to mention other projects demanding my attention. This website, however, is not going away any time soon, and as we discover new things we’ll share them here. I’ve learned from previous ventures in research that publication is sometimes just the beginning for new discoveries and adventures, and I feel there’s still new discoveries in the Dave Garroway story yet to come…and as I find them, I want to share them with you.

For instance, here’s ten wonderful minutes of excerpts from about this time in 1954. What better way to get ready for Christmas than a few minutes with our Dave, along with Arlene Francis2 and Betty White? Enjoy.

Thank you, 2023, for all you brought us. To the new year: please be kind and generous. And to all of you out there: thank you for being with us throughout this whole adventure. Stay tuned for more discoveries.

Coming to an e-reader near you

I’m happy to announce that Peace will become available in a new format Sept. 30:

I hadn’t planned on an e-reader version of the book, but some things came together to make it possible. The file has now been uploaded and the e-book is now available for pre-order1. It’s scheduled to reach your Kindle device (or reader) on Sept. 30. 2

:: Yes, things have been quiet on the blog of late, and it has a lot to do with other things taking priority here at Garroway at Large World Headquarters. Most of that has to do with the day job, of course, and it eats up a lot of my time and brainpower. Be that as it may, I do have some things in work, including a follow-through on my plans to put signed copies on sale for you loyal readers out there. Since my options for getting copies to sell are now more diverse, that will help. As soon as available resources (read “time, money and brainspace”) come together, I’ll post here and we can get going. Stay tuned.

Housekeeping

Busy with work and other stuff, but a couple notes:

  1. Those of you wanting to buy the book may be better served, at least for the moment, by buying the versions available through Amazon. I’m having severe quality-control issues with the copies you can buy through the Bookshop link (these are manufacturer issues that I am trying to resolve), and at the moment I am not happy at all with what’s been coming through that. For better quality and faster service (and a slightly lower price), go through Amazon to buy the book.
  2. I have negotiated the image rights for an electronic-book version of the book. That is in work, but I am juggling it between several other things I must see after. It will happen, though.

As always, stay tuned!

Into the Amazon

This is a quick note, because my week is about to be consumed with meetings and other chores, but it contains good news: Peace is now available through Amazon’s publishing program, in a case-laminated hardcover 1 and in paperback, too. This provides you with new options to get the book at a little bit lower price, and I also hope it’ll provide quicker delivery too.

We’re not ready with an e-book version just yet, because that will require negotiating some image rights for electronic book use. We’re working on that, though, between other chores. Stay tuned.

The things that matter most

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hardest thing

NOTE: In this post I make mention of suicide. It is a difficult topic to write about and I realize some of you reading this may find it difficult to read about, and if it is troubling you may want to avoid this week’s post. Most importantly, if you are having thoughts of suicide, whether or not you are in crisis, there is help and there is hope. You can find help through the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Call or text 988 to get help.

You face a problem when you’re a biographer. It’s not unlike any movie you’ve ever seen that involves a dog as a major part of the story. You know how the story’s going to end, and you know it will probably break your heart. Both life stories I’ve written thus far ended abruptly. In the case of Ben Robertson, it was with a plane crash. In the case of Dave Garroway – and there’s no easy way to say this – it was suicide.

This is a hard topic to talk about, for many reasons. For some folks, it’s deeply personal. Maybe others have lost loved ones or neighbors or colleagues this way.1 In the case of Dave Garroway, it was something I knew I’d have to handle because of how I remembered the coverage of his passing in 1982. The more I learned, though, and the more I researched and the more I talked to people in the know, I found that it was nothing new in his life, and that it had been something on his mind for a long time before he finally did it. (Depression sucks, and depression can indeed kill.)

But even though it’s a horrible thing to talk about, I’m doing no one a service if I avoid the topic. My job is to report the bad alongside the good and great, not to burnish an image, because that’s public relations and not biography. My problem then becomes, how do I tell it? The way he went was not gentle, but I have to find a way to tell it without getting lurid.2 I also have an obligation to the Garroway family to treat it with sensitivity. The event was traumatic enough; the last thing I needed was to even accidentally inflict new trauma in the retelling.

I knew what the newspaper stories said about his last observed moments. But I had nothing in between the time his wife left the house to go to an appointment, and the discovery of his body. In my first draft, I wrote what seemed plausible as a sequence of events leading up to that last second, and I tried to write it with as much discretion as I could, because the reader could piece things together. But it just didn’t feel right somehow. Then, as will happen, I made a discovery that changed things.

One of my long-standing interests is aviation history and accident investigation. One specific long-standing interest is the crash of American Airlines Flight 191 in May 1979. It’s the first aviation disaster I remember in detail, and even though I was a child when it happened I was fascinated by the story and have been since.3

The Flight 191 disaster was especially painful for the staff of Playboy magazine, because four people affiliated with the magazine were killed in the crash. Out of the grief came an assignment to writer Laurence Gonzales to conduct an in-depth investigation of aviation safety in the United States. In June 1980, Playboy published the first part of Gonzales’ two-part investigation. All these years later, it remains deep and bracing reading, and I regret that it’s paywalled and hard to access, because it’s seriously good investigative reporting that is written so well.4

Gonzales was out there among the cops and firefighters and reporters and everyone else on the scene that horrible afternoon, and three months later he came back out to survey the scene once more. He began his report with a description of the scene three months post-crash, and made mention of strands of white electrical wire that still stuck through the mud in this field where nothing could grow.

As the first installment concluded, he briefly described a visit to the McDonnell Douglas factory in Long Beach, where DC-10s were being manufactured. He noticed the wire harnesses, with hundreds of miles of electrical wire in each aircraft, and felt there was something eerie about it. Then he realized why. The first installment thus ended with a callback to all those strands of wire still sticking out of the mud near O’Hare.5

And it’s from Gonzales that I got the idea of how to handle Dave Garroway’s final moments. When you read the book, you’ll recognize a similar callback. It allowed me to handle a horrible moment with, I hope, the best available sensitivity.

For that, I must credit Laurence Gonzales. Thank you, sir, for helping me get better at what I do. I’d like to shake your hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All Bones Considered: Laurel Hill Stories”

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

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

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

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