The one thing I can tell you about Mr. Rogers is that he was the real deal. Unlike some celebrities who have a wholesome, kindly image on camera and then go home and slap their offspring, Fred Rogers was the same gentle, soft-spoken man on and off. I never found his show particularly watchable but, of course, it wasn't meant for me — or you, if you were older than about six. Obviously, since he was on TV for some 50 years, he managed to connect with his intended audience, and that longevity is all the more impressive when you consider how it was done: Without lights and explosions and special effects or anything of the sort. He did it without ever altering his act…because it wasn't an act.
I met him once, very briefly, but it was long enough to see this and I wrote about it back here. This was at one year's Licensing Show in New York. He was there, I was with someone who knew him and they asked, "Would you like to meet him?" and of course I would…
Introductions were made…and I was instantly struck by how Mr. Rogers was exactly the same in person as he was on-screen. Exactly. He talked the same, he smiled the same, he acted the same — which meant that on TV, he wasn't acting at all. I should have known better but, trying to get a chuckle out of him, I said, "It's an honor to meet you even though you beat me out for an Emmy Award."
Big mistake, Mark. Mr. Rogers suddenly acted like I was in need of medium-level grief counseling. He said, oh so kindly, "Now, young man, you shouldn't feel bad about such things. Awards are not the measure of what we do. I'm sure you did something of great value if it was nominated and the pride in that work should be your reward…"
"Well, I was just kidding. Actually, I thought it was great that you won and —"
"Because if you feel good about yourself, that's all that should ever matter. The approval of others is nice to have, of course, but it should never be a necessity in your life."
"It isn't," I said — and at that moment, all sorts of smartass quips, most of them self-deprecating, were racing through my mind. They were drowned-out by some part of my brain shouting at me, "Don't try to be funny! He takes things literally!"
So I said to him, "I'm sorry. I gave you a wrong impression. I was just trying to say it really was an honor to meet you."
And so help me, he grinned and said something that to him at that second I'm sure was absolutely true. He said, "Well, it's an honor to meet you, too!" And then he turned to some people near us and introduced me to them as his new friend. Even remembered my name and pronounced it properly, which I don't always do.
Mr. Rogers was not humorless but you could tell he treated everyone and everything they said with utter and literal reverence. Moments later, I watched as he met some children and spoke to them with the same total commitment of dignity and attention he was giving to the adults around him. Some of those adults — this was at a seminar of broadcasting executives — could have meant a lot to his career and bank account, but that didn't matter. Everyone got treated the same, which is to say with respect and importance. He said to everyone, "It's a pleasure to meet you," and he seemed to really feel that way.
Like I said, I never warmed to his show. But I sure like the fact that someone like that could have a show — and that he could succeed for so long, just being himself.