There are snapshots in our minds that are as  memorable as the photos in an album that we never tire of  looking at. Make a jump of faith, and share mine with me.

Mike Douglas had a nationally syndicated TV show in the 60’s at KYW in Cleveland, and I was often involved in them, doing bits, announcing, and other odd on-air jobs when they were needed. I would do my morning radio show chores, then go downstairs to the big television studio to watch the action. On this day, I was especially excited to see Mick Jagger and the Stones backstage, waiting to go on. It was early in their career and they were taking a lot of flak from many in the public that were yet to accept their music. Mick knew me from having been on with Specs Howard and me on our radio show  He approached with concern on his face.

Watching the show before he and the Stones went on, he knew that Mike was a “straight” not a rock and roller, he asked me quietly,” Is he going to F---  us around?”

I replied sincerely, “No.Mike is one of the good guys. Don’t worry. Just go on and relax with him.. It’s gonna be okay.” Then, he heard Mike introduce them and went out for the interview.  

Mike Douglas scalded them How could they play that rotten trash?  You call that music? Why don’t they get a haircut.? What happened in their young lives that they are so rude and insulting when they could use their popularity to be role models to the kids?  It went on and on with a barrage of angry questions.

To his credit, Mick held his tongue until finally, Mike Douglas ended his interview with a curt dismissal of the guys, pleased with himself that he had played to his core audience, put down the scruffy gang  and scored a moral victory..

A few years ago, I saw Douglas in L.A. and tentatively mentioned this bizarre incident to him and he smiled wanly and said, “What can I say? I am standing here alone talking to you and they are in London in front of 100,000 fans.” 

Despite the above story, Mike Douglas was one of the nicest men I have met, so it was easy to volunteer occasionally to do a little schlepping for them. Besides, I was often asked to be on the show in skits with well known stars. So when I heard the Talent Coordinator and Producer Woody Frazier in a quandary over the how to pick up Gabby Hayes at the airport when they were all otherwise committed,. I said, “I’ll go. I’m a Gabby fan.” 

Who isn’t? Most of us have a sound byte in our heads of Gabby saying, “Howdy buckaroo.”. Thick tongued and  heavy on the saliva because his teeth were gone.

I drove to Cleveland Hopkins airport and waited outside the gate where Gabby was to arrive and sure enough, there was Gabby, easily recognizable in the stream of passengers coming out of the plane.. When he wasn’t side-kicking with Roy Rogers in their 41 pictures together, he wore his teeth, but the bony neck and stringy body were dead giveaways. I summoned up a heavy supply of spit and said, “Howdy buckaroo.”. He laughed with a Gabby cackle and I knew I was a hit.

I had always planned to let Gabby off at the entrance of the Sheraton but he had been so funny and open and…… well….Gabby ….on the trip into town that I took him up on his  invitation to stay with him for a while.

I went with Gabby to his room and waited while he took a shower before dressing to go down for dinner.. At least, I thought that was the plan.  I was shocked to see him exit the bathroom toothless and naked, with a body that resembled a dressed pullet.

He put on an old fashioned full length night shirt. I watched in fascination as he sat on the side of the bed, scratching, and staring sightlessly ahead, as if his old brain was stuck in neutral. Then his eyes lit up and he said just like Gabby, “Hey Harry! Do you know how a feller can get laid around here?”

The alarm bells went off in my head. I was about to become Gabby’s procurer..

I regained my composure and replied, “Gabby, I don’t know anything about  finding gals, but  I am sure the Concierge can find one.” 

I then told him what a pleasure it was to meet him and what a fan I was, and then beat a clumsy retreat.  

As a prelude to this, read the piece on the bottom of this page about the “Beatle Caper,” how Specs Howard and I stole the Beatle concert from rival WHK at Cleveland. Municipal Auditorium .

Paul McCartney in a recent TV interview said he thought that the police had shut down their Cleveland concert because of the pre-show riot staged by 12,000 wild eyed teenagers He said they were packing up to leave when he was notified that the Police Chief had changed his mind, because the riot had been quelled. Specs and I were the quellers.. After the quelling, We then ran on stage and stole the show from the sponsoring station, WHK. Cut to the end of the concert, Specs  and I were back-stage mingling with the Beatles when John singled me out and thanked me for saving the concert. I small-talked with him and started to leave when he took hold of my arm, “Harreh,” he said softly, in his famous Lillipudlian lilt. “Find me a Buurrd.” “Hey John,” I replied laughing, “I saved the concert. I have done enough for one evening.” Of course, as we all know, John Lennon went on to find his own birds without any help. Paul to this day doesn’t know how his concert. was salvaged 

There should be a book written about the teenage girls of the 50’s and 60’s . I have had a large number of 14 or 15 year old mommy and daddy’s little darlings walk up and beg me to introduce them to a rock star. “That’s all you have to do,” .they promised, “I’ll do the rest.” At the Beatle concert, many approached me and blatantly asked me the room numbers of the lads at the Cleveland Sheraton. Ringo was the favorite. 

On the other hand, In Cleveland, there was one of the most gorgeous teenage  creatures I have ever beheld. She was a Charlize Theron type, only a foot or so shorter. The rest of her proportions were in scale. I met her at a large shopping mall where I had announced that I was going to give away 100 Lovin’ Spoonful tickets for a concert the next day.  Over a thousand girls showed up.

It was my practice to arrive at one of those events, staying out of sight to size up the crowd, and plan my strategy for giving away the tickets without getting mangled.

Hiding behind a palm tree about fifty feet from the mass of girls,. I witnessed a spectacle I had never seen before or since. “Charlize” was standing among a group of teenagers engaged in a giggling conversation with several other girls seemingly oblivious of being what we now call groped. by other young girls. A small line of youngsters were waiting to examine her manually, their little hands not pawing her but cupping her and gently squeezing.. It wasn’t sexual.. They were 13 and 14’s who had not yet acquired a pair of their own and were innocently curious to see what those things felt like. Fine, but if I had done the same thing I would still be in an Ohio penitentiary. I quickly darted out from behind the palm to break  it up.

The sight of me caused a rush in my direction so things took care of themselves. I walked through the crush toward “Charlize.” passing out tickets with a vapid smile on my face despite being mauled. 100 tickets were dwindling rapidly. She closed the distance between us with her hands out for a ticket., It worked out that I had a ticket left for her.. “Come with me,”  I said., taking her by the arm and guiding her to the side. “Wait here,” I commanded.. It took me another few minutes to do the PR bit, then I walked back to her. She had a startled look on her face. but still smiled and waited for me to speak. What’s your name,” I asked. “Ellie,” she smiled perkily. ”Well, Ellie,” I said sternly, “You shouldn’t let others do what they were doing to your…uh…you.”  “Oh that, “ she said. “That didn’t mean anything.. They were just curious.. They don’t have anything yet and they just wanted to know what  to expect later.” First of all I said,” They might be disappointed you might be giving them false expectations, and besides doing it in the Mall of Cleveland’s biggest shopping center is not the proper place for a lesson in anatomy.”

If I had known about about Johnny Cochrane and the term “grope” in those days, I might have been inspired to  say:

 “Don’t let ‘em  grope  if it gives ’em  false hope.” 

I saw Ellie the next day at the “Lovin’ Spoonful” concert. She greeted me like nothing had happened. I was honestly happy to see her because she was a high energy delightful girl. I disentangled myself from her tight hug and went backstage only to look back and see her tagging along. It was too late to chase her back. I told her to stick close to me, and when I got to the backstage area, I was greeted by the road manager.  He was all business. “We have just one rule,” he said officiously,” Make your introduction brief and don’t give their names.”: Just announce them as ‘The Lovin’ Spoonful.’” “”Okay,” I said amiably.  “Remember. no names,” He repeated, driving the point home and beyond.

I turned around to look for Ellie. She was holding out a small piece of paper for one of the “Spoonful” guys to sign. I was shocked to see him take the paper, scowl at her and set the paper on fire with a cigarette lighter. Ellie broke into sobs and ran to me for solace. I ran up to him and angrily demanded,” Why did you do that? She is a fan and only wanted your autograph.”   He shrugged and stalked off.

I got the signal to go out and bring them on. “Hi there!” I said to several thousand fans.. “Let’s really hear it  for Phil Smith, Steve Blake, Joe Butler, Mike Arturi, and Jerry Yester.” I gave only their names without giving their handle, “The Loving Spoonful,.” and walked off the stage, leaving the furious Lovin’ Spoonful guys. I pointed to the offending jerk.  “Ask him why I did it,”  I shouted over the crowd’s cheers.

. Ellie followed, still crestfallen. “Why did he burn my paper.?” She sobbed. “Well,  He is just a bad guy, not worth messing with.,” I replied, ”but there is moral here for a pretty girl like you. it’s: Never mess with strangers. You might get burnt.”  She groaned and then giggled,. no longer crestfallen.

I saw her occasionally in the years that I was in Cleveland. She blossomed into a dazzlingly young woman but settled, and no longer operating in the eccentric manner,.

I returned to San Diego years later and received a wedding announcement from her along with a piece from the social section of The Plain Dealer. Ellie Sanders was engaged to a young lawyer, a member of a prominent Cleveland family. In the bottom corner of the announcement,  she had written “Thanks. Love, Ellie” 

I saw Gabby Hayes once more in San Diego, this time as he readied to ride a horse in a parade. That week in Cleveland, when he was the weeklong guest on Mike Douglas’s TV show, we had lunch a couple of times where he was not at all the public Gabby. I learned that he was actually a cultivated, well read, and quiet- spoken gentleman named George Hayes. I also learned that he had been putting me on in the hotel room doing the Gabby bit and wanting a gal. Mike Douglas had put him up to the joke, knowing I was an unabashed Gabby  fan.   

At the San Diego parade staging area, I found Gabby about to mount a handsome Palimino and called out, “George! It’s me. Harry Martin.” He frowned at me, and I immediately realized my showbiz mistake.  He had  his Gabby makeup on.

“Gabby!” I corrected myself and ran over to chat with him while he waited for the signal to ride down the parade route. Finally, I could stand it no longer and launched into a little shtick.

“I need a favor, Gabby,”  I said with enough inflection that he knew I was funnin’ him. “Oh yeah?  Gabby said, “What in tarnation is that?.”

“When the parade is over,” I said “I want you to go with me to the Viejas Indian reservation and “start” a 440 meter race the Kumeyay Indians are having this afternoon. “I just want you to say,. “Gentlemen!  Start your Injuns.”

Her winced and said in his best Gabby style. “Why you  young  whippersnapper!”