Yesterday morn, a batch of people who knew and loved Howard Morris gathered to say bye-bye to…Howard Morris. Among the many who were present, I spotted Carl Reiner, Aaron Rubin, Andy Griffith, Betty Lynn, Shelley Berman, Gary Owens, Robert Clary, Ronnie Schell, Johnny Dark, June Foray, Jim MacGeorge, Janet Waldo and Charlie Adler. That's a very incomplete list.
Those who might have expected a sad, downbeat event were put right from the beginning when Howie's son David chose to lead off by showing the "This Is Your Story" sketch from Your Show of Shows, which should still be viewable directly below…
The rabbi then had to admit to the problem of following what many think is the funniest sketch in the history of television. (The rabbi, who was more than up to the task, was Jerome Cutler, who was a stand-up comedian and TV producer before he turned to the rabbinate. There's a saying in the comedy business that you have to find "the right guy for the room," and he sure was.)
Of the many touching speeches, none meant more than one by Carl Reiner, who first met Howie in the days before World War II (that's how far back they go) and who admitted that a large part of both their careers came from one recommending the other for acting or directing gigs. Reiner pointed out that in the sketch that opened the service — the one you clickers just watched — nothing really was written for the performers, especially Howie. The brilliance all came from them taking the premise and running with it, and most of the funniest bits were more-or-less ad-libbed on the live telecast.
In fact, Reiner noted, since it was live, he didn't even see the sketch until a few decades later. He went to see Ten From Your Show of Shows — a theatrical compilation released in 1973 — and said (approximately), "I kept hearing this woman with an annoying, high-pitched laugh filling the theater with her sound until finally, I realized that woman was me." He sat there and howled with laughter, he said. Mostly at Howie Morris.
Following the service in the chapel, many of us motored up to a remote corner of Hillside Memorial Park and watched as a coffin that seemed way too big to contain H. Morris was inserted into a wall that looked like a big filing cabinet of deceased Jews. They put him up high so, when we go to pay our respects, he can look down on us for a change.
That's about all I've got. It was tough turning loose of Howie but I think some of us have now done it. I still can't shake the yearning to hug Uncle Goopy one more time but that's okay. You don't want to turn loose of everything.