MSC: An era passes

Johnny Carson, late-night TV legend, dies at 79
CNN, Sunday, January 23, 2005
Posted: 7:01 PM EST (0001 GMT)

Johnny Carson, host of NBC's "The Tonight Show" for nearly 30 years, died Sunday of emphysema.

"He passed away this morning," Carson's nephew, Jeffrey Sotzing, told CNN.

Carson, a longtime smoker, was 79 and had announced in 2002 that he was suffering from the disease.

Carson was host of the late-night talk show from October 1, 1962, to May 22, 1992, taking over from Jack Paar and handing off to Jay Leno after 4,531 episodes.

"It is a sad day for his family and for the country," "Late Show" host David Letterman said in a statement Sunday. "He was the best -- a star and a gentleman."

Carson kept a low profile after leaving "The Tonight Show" in 1992.

"He has been greatly missed since his retirement" Letterman said. "Thank God for videotapes and DVDs. In this regard, he will always be around."

Born John William Carson on October 23, 1925, in Corning, Iowa, he is survived by his fourth wife, Alexis, and sons Christopher and Cory from his first marriage, to Joan "Jody" Wolcott.

Another son, Richard, died in a car accident in 1991.

Despite decades on television, Carson was never open publicly with the details of his personal life.

"Nobody got to know him," said comedian Joan Rivers, who often substituted for Carson as a

"Tonight Show" guest host. "He was very private."

Carson began his show business career as a teenage magician and ventriloquist before serving in the Navy during World War II.

After the Navy, he attended the University of Nebraska, graduating in 1949 with a bachelor of arts degree.

While still in college, Carson took a job as an announcer with KFAB in Lincoln, Nebraska, and two years later moved to Los Angeles, California, where he took an announcer's job at KNXT-TV.

A year later, the boyish-looking budding comedian had his own show -- "Carson's Cellar" -- 15 minutes of poking fun at the news, on which Carson persuaded stars of the 1940s and 1950s to appear for free.

In the midst of the show's run, famed clown Red Skelton hired Carson as a writer -- and even put him on as host on live television when Skelton was injured during a rehearsal.

"The Johnny Carson Show" spent 39 weeks on CBS in 1955 and 1956, then he moved to New York, where he was host of ABC's quiz show "Who Do You Trust?" and met Ed McMahon, who became Carson's sidekick until Carson retired from "The Tonight Show" 35 years later.

Under Carson, "The Tonight Show" earned 42 Emmy nominations and won seven trophies. Carson picked up a Golden Globe nomination in 1975, three years after moving the show from New York to Hollywood.

Carson was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame in 1987. An estimated 50 million people watched his final broadcast in 1992.

"And so it has come to this. I am one of the lucky people in the world. I found something that I always wanted to do and I have enjoyed every single minute of it," Carson said to close his final show. "I bid you a very heartfelt goodnight."

President George H.W. Bush awarded Carson the Medal of Freedom on December 11, 1992, and the following year he was awarded the Kennedy Center Honors Lifetime Achievement Award.

Carson's departure led to a bitter battle to replace him, between Letterman, whose "Late Night with David Letterman" followed "The Tonight Show" on NBC's schedule, and frequent guest host Jay Leno. Leno won and remains the host; Letterman jumped to CBS, where he is host of "The Late Show."

Carson is credited with boosting the careers of numerous young comedians.

"The Carson show changed your life," Rivers said. "If Carson liked you, you were set. He got the bright comics. He picked the ones who were different, who were smart."

The list of other Carson alumni reads like a Who's Who of top comics -- Bill Cosby, David Brenner, Jerry Seinfeld, George Carlin and Garry Shandling.

"He gave me a shot on his show and in doing so gave me a career," Letterman said. "A night doesn't go by that I don't ask myself, 'What would Johnny have done?'"

"All of us who came after are pretenders," Letterman said. "We will not see the likes of him again."

Rivers said she, too, owes her start -- and her later introduction to the man who became her husband -- to Carson.

"We all started on his show," Rivers said. "Every solid comedian today really got their break on the Carson show."

Carson had a special knack for putting people at ease, comedian Jackie Mason said.

"The nervousness never lasted more than a second because he was so congenial and comfortable," Mason said. "He made more stars on his show, probably, than anybody in the whole history of show business."

A guest's ability to make the host laugh was the sign of a successful appearance, said Dr. Joyce Brothers, who appeared on Carson's show about 90 times.

"If you made Johnny Carson laugh, the sun shone. It was such a triumph for you, and he was always, always kind," Brothers said. "[He] never said a cutting remark in all of the years that I watched the show, and I watched it for years and years, because it was fun to go to bed feeling happy and pleased."

"He was kindness personified," Brothers said.

Rivers called Carson "the best straight man in the business."

"Nobody in the world was like him," she said. "He was absolutely the best I've ever worked with."

But Rivers said Carson never spoke to her again after she left to start her own late-night show -- one of many challenges he fended off during his time on "The Tonight Show."

And Carson worked hard to maintain his privacy, Brothers said.

"He had his own entrance onto the stage," she said. "He had his own makeup room.

"You never spoke to him at all before the show. He didn't want the guests to say something funny, and then feel that they were too embarrassed to say it on air."

Peter Lassally, Carson's executive producer for 23 years, took credit for Carson's continuing to write jokes for Letterman until recently.

"It gave him great pleasure," Lassally told CNN. "He'd pick up the paper in the morning and could think of a dozen jokes and had no outlet for them, so I urged him to share them with America."


Carson was everyman, with charisma
Day he left ‘Tonight’ was the day that television died
By Michael Ventre
MSNBC, Updated: 4:05 p.m. ET Jan. 23, 2005

“The day the music died” was February 3, 1959, when Buddy Holly’s plane crashed outside of Clear Lake, Iowa.

The day television died was May 22, 1992, when Johnny Carson hustled out of a Burbank studio, leaving tear-soaked cheeks, 30 years of memories and a void that could never be filled.

Like music, television carried on, but it was never quite the same again. Carson was princely. He was to television what Sinatra was to music, what Brando was to acting, what JFK was to the presidency. He was Carnac the Magnificent’s alter-ego, as trusted and reliable as the turbaned Carnac was inept. (Answer: “Ben Gay.” Question: “Why didn’t Ben Franklin have any children?”

But Carson’s strength was his accessibility. You could take him to bed. Every night. Millions did.

From 1962, when he relieved Jack Paar of hosting duties for NBC’s “The Tonight Show,” Johnny came through the curtain, stood center stage in a natty suit, leaned back on his heels, cast sly asides at the live audience and at Middle America through the cameras, and did a 10 minute monologue that killed, even when it bombed. He made you laugh at jokes that were funny, and others that weren’t. He had you in his pocket even before you laid eyes on him.

Born in Iowa but raised in Norfolk, Neb., he discovered early on what the heartland found entertaining. He did magic tricks. He worked as a ventriloquist. He kept enlisted men in stitches as a Naval officer. He wrote comedy and announced commercials for radio stations. He hosted game shows. He penned jokes for Red Skelton.

He paid his dues.

When he took over for Paar, he was ripe and ready, and quickly became a late-night ritual.

Millions of kids grew up over the years hearing the voices of Carson, Ed McMahon, Doc Severinsen and myriad celebrity guests emanating from the tube in their parents’ bedroom.

Cackles of laughter ensued. Often, it sounded like mom and dad were having a party in there. They were.

The Jimmy Stewart of late nightCarson succeeded with a mixture of everyman charm and movie-star charisma. He took the tools of vaudeville, gave them a modern sheen, and displayed them before television cameras. Over the years, he developed regular bits like “Stump the Band,” “Floyd R. Turbo,” “The Mighty Carson Art Players,” “Art Fern’s Tea Time Movie” and, of course, “Carnac,” which was funniest when the folks in the audience groaned over a dud of a line. Carnac would glare at them and offer an ominous reproach: “May a love-starved fruit fly molest your sister’s nectarines.”

You can tell a lot about a man by the company he keeps, and Johnny assembled a dream team and kept it intact for most of his run. Often it seemed McMahon’s primary role was to guffaw, but he also served as a trusted friend as well as an able accomplice in Johnny’s shenanigans. McMahon did not create the sidekick, but when it came to late-night television, he had no peer.

Bandleader Severinsen, and stand-in Tommy Newsom, handled banter like Jim Fowler and Joan Embery handled critters. Producer Fred de Cordova ran a smooth ship, and helped to keep “The Tonight Show” atop the late-night ratings despite assaults by challengers like Dick Cavett, Merv Griffin, Joey Bishop, David Frost and Joan Rivers.

All the while, there were the guests. Regulars like Don Rickles, Rodney Dangerfield, Bob Newhart, David Brenner, Buddy Hackett, Albert Brooks and John Davidson provided familiarity, like relatives visiting. Others like Jerry Seinfeld and David Letterman represented the young turks who longed for recognition, hoping after their routines that they would be invited over to the inner sanctum that was Johnny’s couch.

Unlucky in love — or too lucky?Of course, Johnny had better luck picking guests than wives. He was married four times, and the first three came away with significant chunks of his salary. But it also provided material: “The difference between divorce and a legal separation is that a legal separation gives a husband time to hide his money.”

When he stepped down in 1992, it’s because he saw comic legends like Bob Hope and Jack Benny struggle in later years, and he feared becoming his industry’s version of Willie Mays, stumbling around in the outfield long after his gifts had evaporated. Around the time of the 10th anniversary of his retirement, he told Esquire magazine: “I think I left at the right time. You’ve got to know when to get the hell off the stage, and the timing was right for me. The reason I really don’t go back or do interviews is because I just let the work speak for itself.”

Aside from a few cameos, including a voiceover on “The Simpsons” and an appearance on Letterman’s show, a man who once enjoyed massive popularity went directly into seclusion and stayed there. He shunned large gatherings and requests for his time: “I will not even talk to myself without an appointment.”

The day that television died was May 22, 1992. The day it was buried was today.

At the risk of sounding indelicate, I think he should close with a joke. If Mel Blanc can have “That’s All, Folks!” on his tombstone, then Johnny can have “Heeeerreee’s Johnny!” on his.

I don’t think Johnny Carson would mind if I pointed out how wrong it is that the nation can no longer enjoy his talents, or even his presence, by using a joke. It was one of his:
“If life was fair, Elvis would still be alive and all the impersonators would be dead.”