A Good Neighbor To Millions
Monday, March 3, 2003
INVESTOR'S BUSINESS DAILY
Fred McFeely Rogers hated television when he first saw it in 1951. People putting each other down and calling it humor. Grown men throwing pies at each other. Bad slapstick humor. Garish, seemingly pointless, with lousy programming.
It was, he thought, the absolute worst thing he'd ever seen.
Rogers, then getting ready to enter Pittsburgh Theological Seminary to become a Presbyterian minister, could've shrugged off his distaste and gone on with his studies.
But he saw TV's potential: If it showed positive, educational programs, it could be used to make a difference in the lives of thousands.
Someone could take the raw material and burnish it into something worthwhile, Rogers thought.
Before his death at age 74 Thursday, Rogers did exactly that. Since 1967, the Latrobe, Pa., native hosted, wrote and produced the PBS children's show "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood."
Broadcast on more than 300 stations, the show is seen in 8 million homes a week and has influenced generations.
Rogers died at his Pittsburgh home, said family spokesman David Newell, who played Mr. McFeely on the show. Rogers had been diagnosed with stomach cancer sometime after the holidays, Newell said.
"He was so genuinely, genuinely kind, a wonderful person," Newell said. "His mission was to work with families and children for television. . . . That was his passion . . . and he did it from day one."
Peers and an adoring public recognized his efforts. Rogers' show won four Emmy Awards, plus one for lifetime achievement. He received a George Foster Peabody Award in 1969, and another in 1992 "in recognition of 25 years of beautiful days in the neighborhood." The Academy of Television Arts and Sciences named him to the Television Hall of Fame in 1999.
He also founded and ran Family Communications Inc., a nonprofit that produces educational materials for educators, families and children.
Despite his success, Rogers remained modest. "I have really never considered myself a TV star," Rogers said in a 1995 interview. "I always thought I was a neighbor who just came in for a visit."
Once he'd decided to test the broadcast waters, Rogers dived in - straight to the bottom, where he knew he'd learn the most. Delaying his start in the seminary, he took a spot as a gofer at the National Broadcasting Co. to glean everything he could about TV.
While fetching coffee, Rogers asked scads of questions: Why use that camera angle? How did the sound effects work? He took mental notes and memorized the answers.
His industry got him promoted to floor manager, where he worked on "The Lucky Strike Hit Parade, "The Gabby Hayes Show" and "The Kate Smith Hour."
After two years, Rogers itched to expand positive programming. When he learned that a community-supported public station, WQED-TV, was launching in Pittsburgh, Rogers joined up.
It was a risky move, and NBC co-workers let Rogers know it, calling him "crazy" and "nuts." Rogers ignored them and planned his show.
While anyone could benefit from education, he reasoned, adults often looked at well-intentioned messages cynically. Children, however, usually had more open minds.
With that approach, he came up with "The Children's Corner," a WQED series that began airing in 1954 and ran seven years. Rogers learned on the job, working puppets and experimenting with character development. He wrote simple scripts using direct language, often with a gentle lesson attached.
He also learned outside the studio, taking child development courses with Dr. Benjamin Spock and Margaret McFarland. During his lunch hours from the show, Rogers attended the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and earned his divinity degree.
Once he graduated in 1962, Rogers decided against a traditional pulpit. He'd dedicate his life to reaching out to families through the broader medium he'd been working in. Good morals and self-worth would be his message.
His first step was to accept a spot as host of a new children's show for the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. in Toronto, "MisteRogers." But he'd never been in front of the camera. How to get over his stage fright?
Rogers relied on counsel from Western movie star Gabby Hayes to "just think of one little buckaroo."
"I thought that was superb advice," Rogers said in an interview with IBD in 1999.
To stay focused, he often imagined himself talking to one child at a time.
He recalled his grandfather saying to him: "You know, you made this day a really special day just by being yourself. There's only one person in the world like you. And I happen to like you just the way you are."
Rogers realized how important and loved that acceptance made him feel when he was little. He echoed that message throughout his show for more than three decades.
It also echoed through the staff at "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," which he kicked off in Pittsburgh in 1964. It went national three years later. Rogers hired people with a variety of skills, urging them to explore some of their heretofore untapped talents. Woodworker Bob Negri, for example, explained carpentry on the show and played the BobDog character for the show's "Land of Make Believe" segment.
While other children's programming became increasingly slick and sometimes violent, Rogers rejected flash. He stuck to a soothing message. He let children know imagination was good, using the Neighborhood Trolley on the show to signal flights of fancy. He spoke quietly and with a smile.
He used catchy music with simple lyrics to teach and reassure, penning more than 200 songs and several operas that addressed issues such as love, friendship, fear and even anger management.
Learning and comfort were the themes of his show, and Rogers used familiar rituals to let young viewers know what to expect. The set was designed to look like a cozy living room. At the beginning of each episode, he walked in singing "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood," hung up his jacket, put on a zip-up cardigan sweater (knitted by his mother), slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and introduced the show's topic when he was done.
At the show's end, he summed up the theme and reversed the process, donning his street clothes once again while singing about the next time he and viewers would meet. |
