What is apparent from the tributes that have flowed into newspaper websites, on television and on talkback radio programmes since Sir Howard Morrison died last Thursday morning, is how much he was loved, how committed to his people and his entire country he was, how many people he helped and, to put it simply, how many New Zealanders he touched. As it is with a true star, we all felt we knew him.
As far as the baby boomers go, there may not be many of us who did not see him or meet him. Certainly, it is likely most of us saw him perform. My memory is of a matinee concert in Hastings one Saturday afternoon, before I started high school, in 1960 or 1961, headlined by the Howard Morrison Quartet. The concert has taken a permanent place in my heart ever since. It had energy and joy, it had what I later came to understand was professionalism, and above all it was funny. My Old Man's an All Black, the biggest song of the time, knocked our socks off.
My Old Man's an All Black might have seemed hokey in recent years. It had the word "Hori" in it, which would not be right now. Even then, perhaps, only Howard and the boys in the quartet could have got away with it. But it is interesting to look back at that song, then to look at what Howard became on our national landscape, and see the genuine indignation the young Howard was expressing at the refusal of the racially fascist regime in South Africa to allow Maori in the 1960 visiting team. If it was protest, it contained, nevertheless, Howard's sense of humour and his dignity. I suspect Howard was saying, "Your decision is so absurd, we will laugh at it. We will not demean ourselves by expressing our affront as anger."
It worked. It was a runaway hit, selling tens of thousands of copies. To this day, the baby boomers still know the words.
I first met Howard one lunchtime in March 1987. These were my first weeks in Auckland, when it was apparent I was taking the Newstalk 1ZB ratings rapidly south. The misery was setting in. I was taken along by my then producer, Toni McRae, who would go on famously to sue Metro successfully after Felicity Ferret seemed to imply that Toni was a gin soak, which she was not. We spent an hour together. I can't remember what we all spoke about, it was so long ago. I probably bored Howard by telling him how much I loved his concert in Hastings many years before. I remember that he was warm and encouraging. What I do remember was the way he spoke to me. There was no great playing the star. He spoke to me as another human being trying to do something. He was humble and easy to talk to.
Of course, at that point, Howard's career might have been in some kind of hiatus itself. This was before the episode of This is Your Life that remade Howard, the episode that reminded us all so suddenly what a wonderful career this man had had, what a pioneer he had been, what service to others he had always given. His knighthood came just a few years later.
Over the years, I might run into Sir Howard in the green room at TVNZ, or out to a function or two. Then, in the mid-90s, as a few of us campaigned for recognition of our Paralympians and funding for them to compete at the Paralympic Games - this was before they got full recognition from the sports funding agencies. I organised, with the usual unstinting help of Rosie Horton, a roast of David Lange in Auckland. I rang Howard and asked if he could appear on the night as our post-roast entertainment. He accepted without hesitation.
The speeches that night were wildly funny. Ginette MacDonald stole the show. I do not think she was ever funnier and I have known and worked with her for some 40 years. She brought the house down. But such was the laughter, the speeches all went rather long and it was quite late before Sir Howard was able to take the stage.
That night I saw that Howard took no prisoners when it came to performing and professionalism. I think Howard felt he was too late on and the crowd, because they had been listening to talking for a couple of hours, now wanted to relax and drink. I could sense Howard's frustration at getting the audience's attention and I felt disappointed for him, such had been his kindness in agreeing to appear. At no charge, by the way. I always thought that Howard felt I had let him down.
Then there was the note of admonishment I got from him in the late 90s. Newstalk ZB made a television advertisement in which I sat on a stool explaining why, if you listened to the Newstalk ZB Breakfast show, you would know pretty much all you need to know about the day by the 8.30 in the morning.
I ad-libbed the script and said something like, "So whether you live in Auckland or Eketahuna, you'll be better informed and more interesting person." I pronounced Eketahuna in the way we all pronounce it when we are implying that Eketahuna is the back of beyond. I pronounced it, therefore, the Anglo way. "Ekita'hoona." The ad went to air. A few weeks later came brief note from Sir Howard himself. It simply read, "Eketahuna? Come on, Paul!" I had been well found out. He thought I was better than that. Sir Howard had spoken!
Last year (earlier this year?) I went to interview Sir Howard's nephew, Temuera, the actor, who was starting again on Shortland Street. He met me with overwhelming warmth and courtesy. He made sure I had something to eat and drink. In his dressing room, he pulled a chair over for me. He was open and frank and friendly. I saw in Tem all of the graciousness and kindness, the courtesy and generosity and, above all, the easiness and humility of his uncle. Tem's spokesmanship for the family on Close Up on Thursday night was pure Morrison class.
Was Sir Howard Morrison the greatest entertainer we ever produced? I think he may have been. He bestrode our entertainment landscape for nearly 60 years. He was a legend. He touched everyone. He came from nowhere and he conquered us all. It is obvious from the comments of fellow entertainers interviewed since he died that he set high standards when it came to performance.
Now he has gone.
As one woman said on the New Zealand Herald website, it was only fitting the weather was wet all round the country on Thursday. Sir Howard, she said, has gone out with the tide.
Sir Howard Morrison was a great New Zealander.
<i>Paul Holmes</i>: How great thou art, Sir Howard
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