Bob
2008-07-04 09:09:28 UTC
LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- Larry Harmon, who turned the character
Bozo the Clown into a show business staple that delighted children for
more than a half-century, died Thursday of congestive heart failure.
He was 83.
His publicist, Jerry Digney, told The Associated Press he died at his
home.
Although not the original Bozo, Harmon portrayed the popular clown in
countless appearances and, as an entrepreneur, he licensed the
character to others, particularly dozens of television stations around
the country. The stations in turn hired actors to be their local
Bozos.
"You might say, in a way, I was cloning BTC (Bozo the Clown) before
anybody else out there got around to cloning DNA," Harmon told the AP
in a 1996 interview.
"Bozo is a combination of the wonderful wisdom of the adult and the
childlike ways in all of us," Harmon said.
Pinto Colvig, who also provided the voice for Walt Disney's Goofy,
originated Bozo the Clown when Capitol Records introduced a series of
children's records in 1946. Harmon would later meet his alter ego
while answering a casting call to make personal appearances as a clown
to promote the records.
He got that job and eventually bought the rights to Bozo. Along the
way, he embellished Bozo's distinctive look: the orange-tufted hair,
the bulbous nose, the outlandish red, white and blue costume.
"I felt if I could plant my size 83AAA shoes on this planet, (people)
would never be able to forget those footprints," he said.
Susan Harmon, his wife of 29 years, indicated Harmon was the perfect
fit for Bozo.
"He was the most optimistic man I ever met. He always saw a bright
side; he always had something good to say about everybody. He was the
love of my life," she said Thursday.
The business -- combining animation, licensing of the character, and
personal appearances -- made millions, as Harmon trained more than 200
Bozos over the years to represent him in local markets. iReport.com:
Share your 'Bozo' memories
"I'm looking for that sparkle in the eyes, that emotion, feeling,
directness, warmth. That is so important," he said of his criteria for
becoming a Bozo.
The Chicago version of Bozo ran on WGN-TV in Chicago for 40 years and
was seen in many other cities after cable television transformed WGN
into a superstation.
Bozo -- portrayed in Chicago for many years by Bob Bell -- was so
popular that the waiting list for tickets to a TV show eventually
stretched to a decade, prompting the station to stop taking
reservations for 10 years. On the day in 1990 when WGN started taking
reservations again, it took just five hours to book the show for five
more years. The phone company reported more than 27 million phone call
attempts had been made.
By the time the show bowed out in Chicago, in 2001, it was the last
locally produced version. Harmon said at the time that he hoped to
develop a new cable or network show, as well as a Bozo feature film.
He became caught up in a minor controversy in 2004 when the
International Clown Hall of Fame in Milwaukee took down a plaque
honoring him as Bozo and formally endorsed Colvig for creating the
role. Harmon denied ever misrepresenting Bozo's history.
He said he was claiming credit only for what he added to the character
-- "What I sound like, what I look like, what I walk like" -- and what
he did to popularize Bozo.
"Isn't it a shame the credit that was given to me for the work I have
done, they arbitrarily take it down, like I didn't do anything for the
last 52 years," he told the AP at the time.
Harmon protected Bozo's reputation with a vengeance, while embracing
those who poked good-natured fun at the clown.
As Bozo's influence spread through popular culture, his very name
became a synonym for clownish behavior.
"It takes a lot of effort and energy to keep a character that old
fresh so kids today still know about him and want to buy the
products," Karen Raugust, executive editor of The Licensing Letter, a
New York-based trade publication, said in 1996.
A normal character runs its course in three to five years, Raugust
said. "Harmon's is a classic character. It's been around 50 years."
On New Year's Day 1996, Harmon dressed up as Bozo for the first time
in 10 years, appearing in the Rose Parade in Pasadena.
The crowd reaction, he recalled, "was deafening."
"They kept yelling, `Bozo, Bozo, love you, love you.' I shed more
crocodile tears for five miles in four hours than I realized I had,"
he said. "I still get goose bumps."
Born in Toledo, Ohio, Harmon became interested in theater while
studying at the University of Southern California.
"Bozo is a star, an entertainer, bigger than life," Harmon once said.
"People see him as Mr. Bozo, somebody you can relate to, touch and
laugh with."
Besides his wife, Harmon is survived by his son, Jeff Harmon, and
daughters Lori Harmon, Marci Breth-Carabet and Leslie Breth
Bozo the Clown into a show business staple that delighted children for
more than a half-century, died Thursday of congestive heart failure.
He was 83.
His publicist, Jerry Digney, told The Associated Press he died at his
home.
Although not the original Bozo, Harmon portrayed the popular clown in
countless appearances and, as an entrepreneur, he licensed the
character to others, particularly dozens of television stations around
the country. The stations in turn hired actors to be their local
Bozos.
"You might say, in a way, I was cloning BTC (Bozo the Clown) before
anybody else out there got around to cloning DNA," Harmon told the AP
in a 1996 interview.
"Bozo is a combination of the wonderful wisdom of the adult and the
childlike ways in all of us," Harmon said.
Pinto Colvig, who also provided the voice for Walt Disney's Goofy,
originated Bozo the Clown when Capitol Records introduced a series of
children's records in 1946. Harmon would later meet his alter ego
while answering a casting call to make personal appearances as a clown
to promote the records.
He got that job and eventually bought the rights to Bozo. Along the
way, he embellished Bozo's distinctive look: the orange-tufted hair,
the bulbous nose, the outlandish red, white and blue costume.
"I felt if I could plant my size 83AAA shoes on this planet, (people)
would never be able to forget those footprints," he said.
Susan Harmon, his wife of 29 years, indicated Harmon was the perfect
fit for Bozo.
"He was the most optimistic man I ever met. He always saw a bright
side; he always had something good to say about everybody. He was the
love of my life," she said Thursday.
The business -- combining animation, licensing of the character, and
personal appearances -- made millions, as Harmon trained more than 200
Bozos over the years to represent him in local markets. iReport.com:
Share your 'Bozo' memories
"I'm looking for that sparkle in the eyes, that emotion, feeling,
directness, warmth. That is so important," he said of his criteria for
becoming a Bozo.
The Chicago version of Bozo ran on WGN-TV in Chicago for 40 years and
was seen in many other cities after cable television transformed WGN
into a superstation.
Bozo -- portrayed in Chicago for many years by Bob Bell -- was so
popular that the waiting list for tickets to a TV show eventually
stretched to a decade, prompting the station to stop taking
reservations for 10 years. On the day in 1990 when WGN started taking
reservations again, it took just five hours to book the show for five
more years. The phone company reported more than 27 million phone call
attempts had been made.
By the time the show bowed out in Chicago, in 2001, it was the last
locally produced version. Harmon said at the time that he hoped to
develop a new cable or network show, as well as a Bozo feature film.
He became caught up in a minor controversy in 2004 when the
International Clown Hall of Fame in Milwaukee took down a plaque
honoring him as Bozo and formally endorsed Colvig for creating the
role. Harmon denied ever misrepresenting Bozo's history.
He said he was claiming credit only for what he added to the character
-- "What I sound like, what I look like, what I walk like" -- and what
he did to popularize Bozo.
"Isn't it a shame the credit that was given to me for the work I have
done, they arbitrarily take it down, like I didn't do anything for the
last 52 years," he told the AP at the time.
Harmon protected Bozo's reputation with a vengeance, while embracing
those who poked good-natured fun at the clown.
As Bozo's influence spread through popular culture, his very name
became a synonym for clownish behavior.
"It takes a lot of effort and energy to keep a character that old
fresh so kids today still know about him and want to buy the
products," Karen Raugust, executive editor of The Licensing Letter, a
New York-based trade publication, said in 1996.
A normal character runs its course in three to five years, Raugust
said. "Harmon's is a classic character. It's been around 50 years."
On New Year's Day 1996, Harmon dressed up as Bozo for the first time
in 10 years, appearing in the Rose Parade in Pasadena.
The crowd reaction, he recalled, "was deafening."
"They kept yelling, `Bozo, Bozo, love you, love you.' I shed more
crocodile tears for five miles in four hours than I realized I had,"
he said. "I still get goose bumps."
Born in Toledo, Ohio, Harmon became interested in theater while
studying at the University of Southern California.
"Bozo is a star, an entertainer, bigger than life," Harmon once said.
"People see him as Mr. Bozo, somebody you can relate to, touch and
laugh with."
Besides his wife, Harmon is survived by his son, Jeff Harmon, and
daughters Lori Harmon, Marci Breth-Carabet and Leslie Breth