November 14, 2013

Classic Playback: interview with JFK archivist David Von Pein

The 50th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy is a week from tomorrow, and for the next few days I'll be featuring posts centering on television’s coverage of the drama as it unfolded. Today we'll take a look back an an interview I did two years ago, in the early days of the blog, with David Von Pein, the acknowledged YouTube master of all things JFK.  In this interview we talk about how television covered the assassination and its aftermath, the charms of classic television, and whether our families think we're nuts for doing all this.





 I t's often said that television truly came of age with its coverage of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. I think that can be a bit overstated, but there's no question that, almost 50 years later, the "As It Happened" coverage, coming as it did like a lightning bolt out of the blue of an ordinary Friday afternoon in November, remains absolutely riveting.

Until the advent of YouTube, access to this video coverage, which tells you the story in a way totally unlike the history book or the newspaper, was relatively hard to come by, limited mostly to video traders and online dealers. Today, however, anyone can call up hours of footage, not only from the three networks but also from local television and radio.

Of the various sites devoted to the JFK assassination, few come with the video treasure that can be found on the sites run by David Von Pein. An outspoken believer (as am I) that Lee Harvey Oswald was the one and only assassin of Kennedy, Von Pein has amassed an incredible amount of video history on JFK - not just the assassination, but various tributes, documentaries and movies, not to mention rarely seen clips from Kennedy's 1960 presidential campaign. As someone who has spent more than a few hours with my own JFK collection, I thought David would be an outstanding choice for the inaugural It's About TV interview.

Q: David, thanks first of all for your time. We're going to be talking about collecting old television shows on DVD, because you have an amazing collection, not just of the JFK assassination, but all kinds of TV series and movies. Do your friends and family think you’re kind of, uh, nuts for doing this? Because I know some of the looks I get, I have to go into this long academic discussion about how this is all historical research, in order to justify what is probably really a guilty pleasure.

A: No, I don't think my family thinks I'm TOTALLY crazy. Just a LITTLE bit. ~wink~ My brother, in fact, runs a fairly popular TV website himself. You can find it here. He was kind enough to link to some of my sites from his "Showcase" TV website (even a page for my JFK stuff).

Q: So tell me - how did you first get interested in the Kennedy assassination? Was this a contemporary event for you, something you'd always been interested in, or is this a case of a young man looking back at a particular point in time?

A: I was born in 1961 (when JFK was in the White House, coincidentally), so I don't remember the assassination (or JFK as a President) at all. I just know that (for me) there's something about Mr. Kennedy, his Presidency, his family, and his assassination that are endlessly fascinating.

I first got deeply interested in President Kennedy's assassination in 1981, when I read David Lifton's book, Best Evidence [book review here].

***

Read the rest here.

Still to come: TV Guide from November 16, 1963; "As It Happened" film clips, and an interview with Three Shots Were Fired author Marc Ryan.  Stay tuned.

November 12, 2013

It's true - travel does broaden the mind

One of the things I've noticed in looking through TV Guides of the 1960s is that there used to be a lot of travel shows on TV.  In other words, The Travel Channel isn't anything new. Specials, weekly series, travelogues - many of them in color.  It's one of the things we tend to forget, with travel having become so ubiquitous, that it wasn't always thus, and many people got their first glimpses of life in other parts of the country, or the world, through television (and newsreels before that).

When Edward R. Murrow's See It Now premiered in 1951, both he and the viewers were impressed by television's ability to show, for the first time ever, live pictures of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans simultaneously.  Seeing both Oceans, even if it were only on television, was something that many people could only hope to experience in real life.

This came to mind the other day when, while watching Barclays Premier League soccer, I saw an ad for Dubai's bid for Expo 2020, otherwise known as the World's Fair*.  Commenting on it, my wife replied that she wasn't even aware that World's Fairs were still being held.  Indeed, Expos are now only held every five years or so, and I can't really remember the last one that made big headlines.  Perhaps it was Expo '67 in Montreal, which birthed the name of a baseball team, or the 1962 World's Fair in Seattle, which gave us the Space Needle.  The 1939-40 World's Fair in New York - the "World of Tomorrow" - is one of the most iconic ever, and the 1933-34 "Century of Progress" in Chicago included an exhibition baseball game that continues to this day - the All-Star Game.

*Alright, a "Registered Exposition," if you want to be technical about it.

One of the last iconic fairs, at least in this country, was the 1963-64 World's Fair in Flushing Meadow, New York.  There seems something so "modern" about it - not just the times, but the architecture, such as the Unisphere, that fair's version of the Trylon and Perisphere.  There's also the idea that the wondrously exotic world of the Fair, which up until now had been something one could see only at the Fair itself, was now available to anyone.  The jet age, the age of Pam-American and TWA, meant that world travel wasn't just for the select few, but now was available to a broader section of Americans.

NBC's Edwin Newman hosted a documentary on that World's Fair, one of the earliest existent color broadcasts still available.


There's something both progressive and innocent about the fair. I like the idea that a lumberjack competition could be considered exotic, just as much as the wonders of the Orient. Again, it's a glimpse at a time that offered a glimpse into a world few people had seen - but, as the song of the time said, "It's a small world."

The special is complete on YouTube in six parts.  Part 1 is above; here are the links to Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6.

November 9, 2013

This week in TV Guide: November 9, 1968

Last week we dabbled in food, sharing a TV Guide recipe for minestrone. This week we go even farther, as Richard Gehman tells us how "You too can be a chef" by watching The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. You see, Carson makes a perfect companion for the hungry view (and Gehman finds himself, for some unknown reason, starved every time he watches Carson).  Forthwith, Gehman's complete late-night supper, made during a recent episode of Tonight.

Start with the small potatoes, which can be prepared for boiling during Carson's commercial for a new spot remover.  You can do the whole thing from your easy chair while Don Rickles comes on and insults everyone in sight.  As Rickles continues, it's time for you to separate slices of chipped beef, which you've brought to your easy chair along with the spuds.  As Ed McMahon shills for Alpo, take the separated beef to the kitchen, toss the potatoes in a pot for boiling, and while you're there put an eighth of a pound of butter in a frypan which has been preheated to 300°.  Turn up the TV while Sergio Franchi is singing, so you can hear him while toasting two slices of bread and opening a can of peas.  With the next commercial, you can drain the potatoes and toast a couple more slices of bread.  The next guest, possibly George Jessel, allows you to chop a fresh green or red pepper.

When the show pauses for a station break, that's your chance to add two tablespoonfuls of sifted flour to the sizzling butter, stir with a whisk, and add a half teaspoonful of salt, a couple of pinches of dried parsley, a very small dash of oregano and some pepper, preferably fresh-ground.  You can add a half-cup of water while the next singer (probably named Connie) warbles away.  Add the chipped beef to the mixture when shills for a sewer-cleaning device, along with a half-cup of milk, stirring until the mixture bubbles, at which time you include the drained peas.

This whole thing should take you to within about ten minutes of the end of Carson's show.  During the next-to-last commercial, add a tablespoonful of capped black pitted olives, and as Carson interviews his final guest (Mary Martin Mary McCarthy, Mary Healy, or maybe Mary Queen of Scots), you can serve your creamed chipped beef, either on the toast or the potatoes you've put on the side.  Turn off the set.  Eat heartily.

I don't know.  I don't think I can eat that heavy a meal right before bedtime.

***

During the 60s, the Ed Sullivan Show and The Hollywood Palace were the premiere variety shows on television. Whenever they appear in TV Guide together, we'll match them up and see who has the best lineup..

Sullivan: Tentatively scheduled guests: singers Tom Jones, Vikki Carr and Jimmi Hendrix; comedians Wayne and Shuster, and Scoey Mitchell; the Chung Trio, instrumentalists; and Valente and Valente, balancing act.

Palace: Host Mike Douglas presents Polly Bergen, Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66, Donovan, comics Hendra and Ullett, juggler Rudy Schweitzer and the Solokhins, balancing acrobats from the Moscow State Circus.

Once again, KMSP, the Twin Cities ABC affiliate, has seen fit to tamper with the schedule of Hollywood Palace.  The station had a frequent habit of pre-empting the network's prime-time fare for local programming (and the accompanying ad revenue) - in this case sixing ABC's Saturday night shows (after Lawrence Welk, of course) in favor of a movie (Back Street, with Susan Hayward)*, and airing Palace on Sunday afternoon (opposite NFL football).

*Full disclosure: looking at the picture of Susan Heyward in the movie ad, I think I would have preferred Back Street to the Palace myself.

Be that as it may, I love these examples of the variety show adapting to contemporary culture.  Vikki Carr is a traditional songstress, Tom Jones epitomizes the power of sexual dynamism, and Hendrix - well, he's out there in an area code of his own, isn't he?  Case closed - the verdict goes to Sullivan.

***

On the cover this week is Barbara Feldon in marryin' garb, and inside is a layout of Feldon in the year's smartest outfits..  The hook is the upcoming wedding of her Get Smart character, Agent 99, to Don Adams' Maxwell Smart, but it's clear that there's more to Feldon than meets the eye - or the secret agent, as it were.

SOURCE: HADLEY TV GUIDE COLLECTION

***

Last week we also took a look at the story of PBL, the experimental new Sunday night program launched by NET. (I don't have anything to check on in this week's edition; KTCA, the Twin Cities' educational channel, is dark this Sunday.)  This week we read of the network's plans to add a half-hour prime-time news program. James White, head of NET, hopes to have the newscast on by the fall of 1969.  I don't know that it ever happens; if it did, I've not seen any evidence that it was shown in Minneapolis.  It may well have been broadcast in one of the network's larger markets, such as New York, Washington D.C. or San Francisco.  But a newscast delayed is not a newscast denied; following their coverage of the Watergate hearings, Robert McNeil and Jim Lehrer begin The McNeil/Lehrer report, which quickly goes nationally and continues today as PBS NewsHour.  White had said that he would seek "top-ranked commentators" - there's no arguing that's what they got.

And in one more follow-up from that piece, the Hawaiian Open golf tournament is back, and this time the broadcast really takes advantage of the time difference - Saturday coverage starts at 7:30pm CT on Channel 11, with the final round airing Sunday at 7:00pm.

***

The week's football is kind of a meh, but Stanley Frank provides a fascinating look behind-the-scenes at what happens in the television control booth.  The focus is on CBS' coverage of the season opener between the New York Giants and Pittsburgh Steelers, where announcers Frank Gifford and Jack Whitaker go through the preparation for the week's game with the production team, producer Bill Creasy and director Chris Erskine.  Gifford runs through each team's tendencies, gives insight on key players, and advises the team on what to look for.  (Bobby Walden, the Pittsburgh punter, has "been known to pass from kick formation.")

Covering football has changed dramatically over the years.  There are five color cameras assigned to the game: three near the 50-yard line, one on the sidelines, one behind an end zone.  (By contrast, the average game today uses at least twice as many, and NBC has 40 for its Sunday night broadcasts.)  CBS gets off to a rough start; despite Gifford's warning that Steelers running back Dick Houk had the capability of throwing on the option play, the cameras miss his 62-yard pass on the game's first play.  Later in the first half Erskine cuts to the field-level camera as Giants quarterback Fran Tarkenton unleashes an 84-yard pass to Homer Jones; the ground shot "projects the speed and power of the players but loses a panoramic view of the field," blowing the live shot.  An instant replay showing the completed pass doesn't make up for Erskine's frustration at missing the original play.

Click to enlarge
The game continues through to a 34-20 victory by the Giants, a dull affair that, as Frank notes, proves the truism that "false excitement cannot be pumped into an event."  Despite the early glitches, the broadcast goes well, and Gifford's tip about a fake punt means the cameras are in perfect position when Walden does in fact opt for the pass in the fourth quarter (which was dropped).  It's particularly interesting to note how commercials were treated back in the day: under the current agreement, CBS can ask the officials for a commercial time-out "if there has been no natural break in the action during the first seven minutes of a quarter."  The referee misses the network's initial fourth quarter signal, and Creasy nixes a commercial during a first-down measurement.  ("We can't interrupt a drive.")  The network is eventually bailed out by Giants kicker Pete Gogolak, who obligingly kicks two field goals to provide natural breaks for the spots.

Televising a game is tough work for everyone; as Creasy says after the game's end, "I feel as though my eyes are falling out of my head, and they pop out a little farther every week."

***

Us classic television fans remember Robert Young as the wise Jim Anderson on Father Knows Best, or the kindly family doctor Marcus Welby, M.D., but Young was a fine actor who wasn't above showing an edge in his work.  We're reminded of that in Friday's episode of NBC's Name of the Game, as Young plays Herman Allison, "an ultraright fanatic who's building a private army" to guard against the growing race problem.  Gene Barry, one of the three stars of Name of the Game, enters the scene while investigating the death of an investigative reporter, and runs into a cast of characters that includes an influence-peddling former senator, a washed-up actress, a restaurateur, and another murder.  Name of the Game currently plays on Cozi, so you might be able to catch this one.

It's just another indication of the sign of the times, as we can see in a Letter to the Editor from Doris Mathews of Checotah, Oklahoma.  Miss Mathews writes in praise of a recent special called Soul, which could have been any one of a number of specials but was probably a public broadcasting series of the same name.  In the letter, she says "The Negro 'Soul' special was fabulous.  More shows like this should be aired so that the whites can see all the talent among the Negro people."  Wince-inducing to modern ears perhaps, but this is a time not far removed from the infamous interracial kiss on Star Trek, which caused NBC so much trouble in the South.

Thomas J. O'Neal of New Orleans has a hilarious take on Howard Cosell, who's not quite the household name he'll become in two years thanks to Monday Night Football, but has become plenty familiar thanks to ABC's coverage of boxing - especially Muhammad Ali.  In response to an October 19 article entitled "I'm Irreplaceable" (I'm assuming Humble Howard is speaking of himself here), O'Neal writes "In musing over the word 'saturnine,' which Howard Cosell believes everyone 'ought to learn,' it occurred to me that this Argus-eyed, stentorian Palladium of narcissism should pause on his commercial odyssey, pick up his aegis, take his Antaean virtues and his cornucopia of money - and paddle down the Stygian Way to Hades.  [That's "go to hell," for the rest of us.]  Cosell, you are a myth!"  Couldn't have said that better myself.

I'll defer to the following as the Letter of the Week, though, as it checks a number of boxes that I've written about in the past months.  Karen Fiedler, of Columbus, Ohio, has CBS' new Western series Lancer in mind in her letter.  "Lancer is based on the fact that Murdoch Lancer [Andrew Duggan] was shot so badly he had to send for his boys, Scott [Wayne Maunder] and Johnny [James Stacy].  Scott gets shot int he first episode, Johnny gets shot in the second, and Scott gets shot again in the third by a family trying to avenge Johnny's killing of one of their brood.  Johnny is forced to shoot one of them because they shot Scott.  Luckily everyone recovers quickly except the bad guys.  It is certainly a joy to view the new lack of violence."  Got all that straight? TV  

November 7, 2013

Around the dial - JFK, Thanksgiving and more!

Recently I got a very nice email from Marc Ryan, in the course of which he mentioned his e-book Three Shots Were Fired, a look at the coverage of “TV’s first global story,” the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Regular readers know of my interest not only in the Kennedy assassination itself, but in the media coverage during and after the event, and so it should come as no surprise that Marc’s book is right up my alley, one that’s going to find its way to my Kindle queue sooner rather than later. Marc also has an informative blog supporting the book. Do check it out!

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, Kevin Butler has a great piece up at TVParty! reviewing the history of CBS’ Thanksgiving Day Parade Jubilee coverage.  Growing up, I always preferred CBS’ multi-parade coverage, which included (at various times)New York, Detroit, Philadelphia, Toronto and Hawaii, to the bloated Macy’s broadcast on NBC.  Alas, there’s not much difference between the two anymore, which is why I’ve switched over to WGN’s broadcast of the McDonald’s Thanksgiving Parade in Chicago. 

At About Last Night, Terry Teachout links to the broadcast of Gian Carlo Menotti’s opera The Medium, originally broadcast on CBS’ Studio One in 1948.  I own this broadcast myself (probably the oldest TV show in my collection), which was part of the very good boxed set of Studio One productions that came out a few years ago.  It never ceases to amaze that operas were once a regular (if infrequent) part of television.  I admit a bias in that Menotti is one of my favorite composers, but this broadcast shows just how tight and suspenseful an opera can be without taking any more than an hour.


More great stuff coming your way on Saturday - don't miss it! TV  

November 5, 2013

Us vs. U.S.

One of my goals with this blog has been to use the television lens to trace changes in American culture, and one of the most significant, if subtle, examples of this can be found in the nomenclature of television news anchormen when referring to the U.S. Government.

I suppose if you're of a certain age, you wouldn't even notice that there had been a change, an evolution in the way the news reporter thinks of himself.  And perhaps this change isn't universal; it's been so long since I've had the stomach to watch network news that I may be completely off-base here.  But what I'm talking about here is the idea that reporters once viewed themselves - and identified themselves - as Americans.  You watch and in their words there's almost a pride of ownership when Walter Cronkite refers to Adlai Stevenson as "our Ambassador to the United Nations," or when Bob Young, giving Vietnam casualty reports, says that "1,842 enemy troops" were killed.   Who can tell who the enemy is nowadays?

Today, I think it more likely that Stevenson would be called "the United States Ambassador to the U.N.," and that the troop casualty figures would be reported with more of a grammatical dispassion.  That's not entirely bad, mind you; I think objectiveness is generally a good thing when it comes to news reporting.  I'm not going to get into any suggestions of political bias here, because I try to keep this a partisan-free zone, but let's face it - there have been accusations of a liberal bias for decades, and Fox News can often sound like a shill for the GOP.

And yet there's something almost touching about those old days.  It's as if reporters understood that while their very occupation set them apart from others, they were still part of a larger collective - they were part of the media, yes, but they were also part of America.  When John F. Kennedy was assassinated, it wasn't only a news event, but a personal one as well.  Kennedy was a world leader, but he was also their president, and they reacted not as journalists, but as Americans.*

*Many of them were also personal friends of JFK, but there's something more at work here.  Jay Watson, news director of WFAA in Dallas, had seen Kennedy in the motorcade just moments before the assassination.  He applauded Kennedy, not out of a partisan sense but because he was showing the respect due the office.

I suppose this all changed during the Vietnam/ Watergate era, when the media become more political, more adversarial.  I first became cognizant of this dynamic during one of those media roundtable discussions that Fred Friendly used to conduct on PBS.  A question arose, and I'm going by memory here so I may be off on the details, but the gist of it was that in reporting battle action, a correspondent comes upon information of a pending attack upon American troops.  Does the correspondent let them know?  The panel, which as I recall included Peter Jennings and Mike Wallace, agreed to varying degrees that their jobs made them journalists first, Americans second.*

*Yes, I know Jennings was Canadian.  But you get the point - the assumption was that he would have been on "our" side.

Wait - Here it is!  Amazing what you can find out on the Internet.  The scenario posed was thus:

In 1989, ABC's Peter Jennings and CBS's Mike Wallace were asked, "In a future war involving U.S. soldiers, what would a TV reporter do if he learned the enemy troops with which he was traveling were about to launch a surprise attack on an American unit?" Wallace responded that, ideally, journalists would "regard it simply as another story that they are there to cover." Jennings initially indicated that his first move would be to "do what I could to warn the Americans." But after hearing Wallace's comments, he changed his response, admitting, "I think [Wallace is] right . . . I chickened out."

I don't know how the journalists of the 50s and 60s felt, but something suggests to me that they would have viewed an attack on American troops as an attack on them.  If I had the time (and maybe I will sometime), I'd go back and look at the differences (if any) between coverage of Pearl Harbor and 9/11.  Would there be differences?  What do you think?*

*An interesting comment from the site I linked to above, from Philip Meyer, who at the time of this comment held the Knight Chair in Journalism at UNC: "Paraphrasing George Washington, 'When we assumed the journalist, we did not lay aside the citizen.' Journalists in World War II followed that maxim. The postmodern drift toward rejection of all authority has weakened it, but, when there's a real war, we remember who we really are."  The question thus becomes: has today's journalist laid aside the citizen?

At any rate, whether journalists have become more professional, whether they belong to what Jeanne Kirkpatrick referred to as the "Blame America First" crowd, or whether they're simply a product of our cynical times, I think this does suggest a difference in how reporters view the relationship between themselves and their country.  And in that sense, it seems a perfect mirror of how the feelings of our own society have changed.