My Ship Has Sailed

May 19, 2004

Laura and I were both very saddened by the news of the death of Tony Randall, and not just because we both grew up worshiping him as a comedic idol.  I also got the chance to meet and work with him, and it will always be one of my most cherished memories.  I thought I'd share it with everyone, just to show you what kind of man he really was off-camera.

About 15 years ago, when I was alternating radio and commercial gigs with writing/producting corporate video, Mr. Randall appeared in a humorous instructional video series I wrote on buying and selling real estate, and I got to spend a weekend working around him. He and Steve Allen were the two nicest, most gracious celebrities I ever met, and my job has brought me in contact with a lot of them, good and bad.

He flew into Dallas to do the job, and he was funny and friendly to everyone on the set, answering all our dumb questions about his career and other celebrities he knew, joking flirtatiously with the shy script girl, etc. We had set up a luxurious dressing room for him to have a private lunch, but he said, "Aw, no! I want to eat with the guys!"   He insisted on eating at the cafeteria table with the crew, regaling us all with hilarious stories. He even complained that the 4-star hotel suite we provided for him was far more than he needed, and he would have been fine with a room at the Ramada.

He did all this while very worried about his wife, who had been extremely ill for a long time. During one break, I escorted him to a private office to call her, and he explained to me that he was only taking short jobs like ours at that time so he didn't have to be away from her for long. I'll never forget how he seemed so worried, then the second his wife came on the line, he put on a happy face, asking her how she was doing and telling her how nice everyone was here as he tried to lift her spirits. Then the instant he hung up, the mask dropped, his shoulders sagged and a sadness settled over him that he only shook off when we walked back onto the set.  I know some people have criticized him for having kids at an advanced age with his young second wife, but if he found happiness with a new family after his first wife passed away, I certainly didn't begrudge it to him. He had more than earned some happiness.

I told him I loved his two LPs of 1920s songs and had played them to death. He not only autographed them for me, he said, "If you've really played them to death, I have the master tapes. I'd be happy to send you a dub." I never imagined he would, but a few days later, I received a package with a cassette (that formerly had opera on it) with a dub of the masters, including unreleased tracks. It also included a personal handwritten note, complimenting me on my own comedy demo tape I'd given him.

A couple years later, I went to New York in hopes of achieving my dream of writing for David Letterman. As a poor kid from Texas with no agent or TV contacts, I couldn't get in the door. But I knew Tony Randall was a regular guest. So I wrote to the address on the envelope, reminding him who I was and asking if he had any suggestions. It was just a shot in the dark, and I never really expected a reply.

But a few days later, I got back another personal note from him with the inside phone number of David Letterman's head writer. The note said, "Give him a call, he's waiting to hear from you. Good luck!" We had an hour-long conversation, and while I never got the job (there was a prolonged writer's strike on, and I moved back to Texas to be with my cancer-stricken parents before it ended, then returned to radio, took over writing the Morning Punch, and founded the Comedy Wire), I will never forget the multiple times this wealthy, world-famous celebrity went out of his way to be helpful to a young comedy writer from Texas that nobody'd ever heard of.

As both a comedic talent and a human being, Tony Randall (and Steve Allen, who also helped me in a similar fashion) stood head and shoulders above every other celebrity I've ever dealt with. Considering what he did for me, I can only imagine how many other people he helped over his long career.

Laura and I send my prayers and condolences to his family, and our greatest respect to him.  His work will live on forever.  And if you've never seen "The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao," get a copy now!

Pat Reeder
The Comedy Wire
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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