Popeye and His Pals Captain Jolly and Poopdeck Paul

"I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm strong to the "finich"
'cause I eats me spinach
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man"

Popeye was the creation of E.C. Segar. The "one-eyed runt" debuted as a minor character in an early comic strip entitled Thimble Theater on December 19, 1919. When Popeye became popular, the comic strip was retitled Popeye. Syndication rights were sold to King Features Syndicate, which debuted the Popeye strip on January 17, 1929, introducing the character to a national audience.

In 1933, the Fleischer Brothers--Max and Dave--adapted the newspaper comic strip character into cartoon shorts for Paramount Pictures. All but three of their cartoons were six to eight minute, one-reelers filmed in black and white. Their three masterpieces were twenty minute, two-reelers filmed in Technicolor: Popeye Meets Sinbad (sic) in 1936, Popeye Meets Ali Baba (sic) in 1937, and Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp in 1939.

The cartoon Popeye muttered and mangled the English language much to the annoyance of English teachers everywhere. He was odd-looking and unsophisticated, but he had a heart of gold with compassion for the underdog. Popeye was brave, chivalrous, and loyal. His pipe could be used as a steam whistle for his trademark "toot-toot." He displayed his ingenuity using his pipe for a cutting torch, a jet engine, a propeller, and a periscope.

The not so secret source of Popeye's great strength was spinach. The spinach-growing community of Crystal, Texas, erected a statue of Popeye in recognition of his positive effects on the spinach industry as a great source of "strenkth and vitaliky."

Several key characters in the Popeye cartoons were based on real people from Chester, Illinois, who made an impression on animator E.C. Segar when he worked there as a reporter. Popeye was based on Frank "Rocky" Fiegel, who in real life had a prominent chin, sinewy physique, a pipe, and a history of fist-fighting in the local travern.

The inspiration for Olive Oyl was Dora Paskel, an uncommonly tall, lanky lady with a washboard figure who wore her hair in a tight bun close to her neckline. She ran the general store.

The Wimpy character was modeled after a rotund, local opera house owner named Wiebusch, who regularly sent his stagehand to buy hamburgers for him between performances.

The Chester, Illinois Chamber of Commerce built a Popeye character trail through their town in honor of E.C. Segar and his creations. Statues of many of the series characters adorn their city streets.

Paramount Pictures sold their Popeye cartoon television rights and their interests in the Popeye brand to Associated Artists Productions (AAP) in1955. AAP churned out 220 new cartoons in the next two years to round out their cartoon package. These made-for-TV cartoons were streamlined and simplified for smaller TV budgets. In short, they were cheaply made. 

In 1957, CKLW-TV (Channel 9) in Windsor, Ontario purchased the broadcast rights from AAP for 234 Popeye cartoons. The station hired Toby David in 1958 to portray Captain Jolly as the weekday program host. The Captain spoke English with a bad German accent and referred to the kids in his audience as his "Chip Mates." He wore a captain's hat cockeyed on his head, a striped tee-shirt, eyeglasses down his nose, and a signature chin strap beard. The show aired weekdays and weekends from 6:00 pm to 6:30 pm sponsored by Vernor's Ginger Ale.

In character, Captain Jolly was a frequent visitor of hospitalized children at Children's Hospital in Windsor, Ontario, and he did charity work throughout the Detroit area as well. Toby David often volunteered his time for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital--his favorite charity.

The weekend hosting chores were handled by Captain Jolly's first mate Poopdeck Paul portrayed by CKLW-TV weatherman Paul Allan Schultz. Poopdeck Paul wore a dark sweater with sleeves rolled up to reveal fake mariners tattoos on his forearms. He wore a canvas sailor's cap confidently tilted on his head.

Schultz's son Bill recalls, "The name Poopdeck Paul came pretty much out of nowhere. Ten minutes before the weekend show went on the air, the program director asked, 'What are you going to call yourself?' My dad thought for a couple of minutes and came up with the name."

That story may be true, but it is also true that Popeye's long-lost father who deserted him on Goon Island was named Poopdeck Pappy. Perhaps the name surfaced in Schultz's subconscious mind.

Captain Jolly used hand puppets for his show which was common for kid's shows of that era. Schultz's weekend show was hipper than Captain Jolly's weekday show. Poopdeck Paul appealed to the older kids in the audience. When the Limbo became a popular dance in 1961, Poopdeck held Limbo contests with his studio audience. When the Beatles' popularity broke across the nation in February 1964, he had kids with mop-top haircuts lip synch Beatles songs live on the air.

When the weather permitted, Poopdeck Paul occasionally did his show on the front lawn outside the CKLW studios. He would conduct go-cart races, miniature golf contests, Hula-Hoop competitions, Frisbee tosses, and relay races with teams made up from his studio audience. Both Popeye co-hosts were popular with kids on both sides of the Detroit River.

CKLW-TV cancelled Popeye and His Pals in December of 1964 after seven seasons, due to programming changes. Toby David took it pretty hard. He continued to work around Detroit doing media work and serving on the board of directors for several non-profit organizations assisting with fund-raising.

In 1971, Mr. David had it with winter in Detroit and retired to Scottsdale, Arizona. For a time, he sold real estate and was a tour guide on the side, but he never lost his desire to entertain. On September 14, 1994 while performing for senior citizens at a Mesa, Arizona senior center, Toby David died from a heart attack at the age of eighty. He was survived by his wife, two sons, and a daughter.

Paul Allan Schultz soured on show business after Popeye and His Pals was cancelled. He became a salesman for many years and had a couple of brushes with the law. For a time he lived in the Netherlands and Thailand. Schultz spent the last six months of his life in Leamington, Ontario, on the Canadian shores of Lake Erie. He died on September 19, 2000 at the age of seventy-five.

As per Schultze's final request, no funeral or burial service was held. His ashes were scattered in an undisclosed Canadian location. Schultz was survived by two daughters and a son. A second son, Bruce, preceeded his father in death. Schultz's daughter Diane told a Windsor Star reporter upon the passing of her father, "He taught us kids never be a spectator; always be a player."

Max Fleischer's Betty Boop Character 

Detroit/Windsor Sock-Hop Jock Robin Seymour 

The Coca-Cola Santa Story

Santa's origin can be traced back to ancient Germanic folklore and the Norse god Odin. The modern character of Santa was embraced by America with the December 23, 1823 publication of Clement Clarke Moore's 56 line poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas," better known as "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Here is Moore's description of the jolly fatman:

 

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself

 

Bavarian immigrant Thomas Nast became America's first political cartoonist. He is responsible for creating the American image of Santa Claus on January 3, 1863, for the illustrated magazine Harper's Weekly. In an wooden engraving named "Santa Claus in Camp," the mythic figure is presenting gifts to Union soldiers during the Civil War while wearing a costume patterned with patriotic stars and stripes. Santa manipulates a Jefferson Davis toy [effigy] dancing on the end of a string.

 

In 1881, Nast created the first of many Santa images based on the description in Clement's narrative poem. These illustrations were without the political and military context of his earlier work. With thirty-three Santa illustrations to his credit, Nast immortalized the figure of Santa Claus we are familiar with today.

Muskegon born Michigan artist Haddon Sundblom painted the iconic image we now recognize as the modern Santa Claus, for the Coca-Cola company from 1931 until 1964. His friend was the original model for his Santa paintings. It is believed Sundblom made $1,000 for his first commission, good money during the Depression era.

 

 

Haddon Sundblom at work.

 

Sundblom's Santa images have appeared in Coke's print advertising, store displays, billboards, posters, calendars, and on television commercials. He helped make Santa the most recognizable and successful pitchman in advertising history.

 

Haddon Sundblom, Santa, and Playboy Magazine 

West Dearborn's Muirhead's Department Store

Mrs. Alberta Muirhead

If you grew up in Downriver Detroit in the 1950s or 1960s, after the Hudson's Thanksgiving Day parade on Woodward Avenue, you had your heart set on a visit to Santa's igloo at Muirhead's on Michigan Avenue in West Dearborn. Baby Boomers have precious memories of riding the rails in Santa's sleigh with their parents and siblings to get their photo taken with Santa Claus. Over the years, several men have donned the red suit and white beard. Early on, Mr. Muirhead played the role, but succeeding Santas were Bob Oxley and Tim Pryce. There may have been others.

In 1946, John Muirhead married Alberta Jamieson, and they opened a neighborhood department store featuring women's clothing and a toy department. Dearborn resident Jon Jahr explained that his father drew up the blueprints for the original Muirhead's building which was on three levels.

"The basement was the storeroom, shopping was on the street level, and the Muirheads lived on the second level. As their business grew, they expanded the footprint of the building, and in the early sixties, they built a new building around the old building, replacing the street facade for a modern, upscale look." By then, John and Alberta lived in their own home, creating more sales space on the second level.

Mrs. Muirhead - 1971

Lynn Richards Tobin worked at Muirhead's in 1961 and 1962. She remembers, "Mr. Muirhead was in his early sixties. Mrs. Muirhead was younger, maybe in her forties.... She always wore the cash register key around her neck. She took care of their customers and oversaw sales on the main floor. Mr. Muirhead spent most of his time on the second floor in the stockroom and oversaw employees to make sure everyone was working and not goofing off. 

"The main floor was girls and teen clothing in front and children's clothing in the back. A customer service center was in the middle of the sales floor where shoppers would take returns and ask questions. There was a cash register station near the front door and one near the parking lot exit in back. An elevator and a stairwell led to the second floor where the stockroom and business offices were. Dolls were sold upstairs including the exclusive Madame Alexander dolls. Another stairwell on the ground floor led to the toy department in the basement which featured bicycles."

My family in 1957. I'm sitting next to my mother.

During the Christmas season, Santa's igloo sleigh ride in the basement was the big attraction. As far as I have been able to determine, the sleigh was manually pushed back and forth on a rail track. Jon Jahr remembers seeing the sleigh in the Muirhead's warehouse in the early 1970s. Jahr asked Mr. Muirhead if he might bring the sleigh out just for Christmas photos, but he was done with it by then. I wonder if the sleigh is somewhere in Dearborn waiting to be rediscovered.

John died in 1983 at the age of eighty-three. Alberta operated the store by herself with the help of a dedicated band of loyal employees for seven more years. Then, she closed the popular store after forty-three years in business. Competition from shopping malls and Crowley's on Michigan Avenue off Outer Drive in particular cut into her business.

Alberta's story did not end with the closing of her boutique department store. Mrs. Muirhead--as most people called her--became a model for philanthrophy. She believed in giving back to the Dearborn community who had supported her and her husband John, making their business a success. Alberta devoted her later life to Dearborn and its people.

Alberta Muirhead parlayed her charismatic personality and charitable spirit to become Dearborn's biggest benefactor and philantropist since the Ford family. For starters, she donated her three-level building to the Oakwood Health Care Foundation for their data-processing center.

An avid believer in public education, Alberta became the namesake for Dearborn's Teacher of the Year award established in 1997. She supported both Henry Ford Community College and Rochester College giving generously to their scholarship funds to help needy and struggling students. Dearborn Public Schools awards an annual scholarship in her name.

In 2007, Alberta Muirhead established the Oakwood Healthcare Foundation with a $500,000 gift to support nursing education and advanced nursing degrees for Oakwood Healthcare employees. Many a nurse owes a debt of gratitude to the generosity of Mrs. Muirhead. Her support was not limited to people. Alberta was a supporter of the Dearborn Animal Shelter and received their Big Heart Award in 2006.

After the death of her husband, Alberta and Russ Gibb--of Grande Ballroom fame and Dearborn High School teacher--became friends. How and when they met is unclear, but Gibb was a deejay at WKNR-FM which was next door to the department store. They became lifelong friends and companions for nearly thirty years until Alberta's death on January 14, 2011 at the age of ninety-one. "Alberta put so many people through college," Gibb said. "She was a great, generous lady and I loved her dearly."

Ford Rotunda Christmas Memories

Terror In Ypsilanti

Between the summers of 1967 through 1969, before the term serial killer was coined, a predatory killer stalked the campuses of Eastern Michigan University and the University of Michigan seeking prey until he made the arrogant mistake of killing his last victim in the basement of his uncle's home. All-American boy John Norman Collins was arrested, tried, and convicted of the strangulation murder of Karen Sue Beineman. The other murders attributed to Collins never went to trial, with one exception, and soon became cold cases.

With the benefit of fifty years of hindsight, hundreds of vintage newspaper articles, thousands of police reports, and countless interviews, Terror in Ypsilanti: John Norman Collins Unmasked tells the stories of the other victims, recreates the infamous trial that took Collins off the streets, and details Collins' time spent in prison. Terror in Ypsilanti compiles an array of physical and circumstantial evidence drawing an unmistakable portrait of the sadistic murderer who slaughtered these innocent young women.

About the Author

Gregory A. Fournier received his bachelor and master's degrees from Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti while the Washtenaw County murders were occurring. He lived one block up the street from John Norman Collins and had several unpleasant brushes with him. 

Like so many other people in Ypsilanti, it was not until Collins was arrested and his photograph ran on the front pages that Greg could link a name with the face. He has first-hand knowledge of the Ypsilanti/Ann Arbor area and many of the people associated with these cases.

Terror In Ypsilanti book site

Detroit Pitchman Ollie Fretter

Ollie Fretter

Born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1923, Oliver "Ollie" Fretter moved with his parents to Royal Oak, Michigan when he was in his early teens. He graduated from Royal Oak Dondero High School in 1941. After serving in the military during World War II, Fretter borrowed $600 from an uncle to open an appliance repair shop.

By 1950, twenty-seven-year-old Ollie Fretter decided he may as well sell home appliances and consumer electronics. With the post-war G.I. Bill and Veterans' Administration funding boom, America moved from a nation of renters to a nation of home owners. Selling appliances and electronics was a forward-looking career move for Fretter. His first store opened on Telegraph Road, north of I-96 in Redford, Michigan. Within ten years, Fretter had eight Detroit area stores.

Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, Fretter Appliance and Electronics ran print ads in all of Detroit's major newspapers. The ads ran on Mondays to advertise mid-week Wednesday sales and on Fridays to generate weekend sales. The ads featured photos of appliances with the "Lowest Prices in Town" listed beneath them. Fretter's headshot was prominently displayed near his slogan, "If I can't beat your best deal, I'll give you five pounds of coffee."

Typical Fretter Appliance Print Ad

An unidentified Fretter employee revealed to a Detroit Free Press reporter, "Fretter gave away about 200 pounds of canned coffee a month costing about $500. When coffee prices rose, Fretter ordered one-pound cans of coffee with the label Fretter's House printed on them listing the weight as five-pounds. Somehow, Fretter got away with it. The cans became gag items that most customers were good-natured about. My guess is these short-weight coffee cans would be valuable collectors' items today if any have survived.

In 1971, Ollie Fretter increased his advertising budget and shifted into television advertising. He starred in his own commercials projecting a hokey, amateurish charm 40 or 50 times a week over most small market TV stations. His ads ran in the afternoon and late nights when buying television time was cheaper than prime time.

At first, Ollie Fretter played it straight as an owner/pitchman, but to distract his potential customers from the mind-numbing repetition of his commercials, he began hamming it up with all sorts of silly promotions like dressing as various characters. Sometimes, he would appear as a Gypsy violist, a mountain man, George Washington on President's Day, Uncle Sam on the Fourth of July, Johnny Cash, or Mother Nature. He would do almost anything to sell a refrigerator, a vacuum cleaner, a television, or a stereo system.

Ollie Fretter became Detroit's King of Local Advertising despite newspaper columnists ridiculing him in their editorials. He cried all the way to the bank. When Detroit Free Press reporter James Harper asked Fretter why he appeared in his own commercials, he replied, "People like to think they're dealing with the owner of a business. A too professional approach is not good. People like to think they're listening to somebody just like them."

In May of 1980, Michigan Attorney General Frank Kelley brought a $25,000 lawsuit against Fretter Appliance and Electronics for violating the Item Pricing and Deceptive Adverstising Act. The company's media advertising and signs that hung in their chain stores proclaimed "The Lowest Prices in Town." Ollie Fretter and his lawyers failed to provide documented evidence to backup that long-held claim.

Fretter updated his company's advertising by making the products the focus. An off-screen announcer described the appliances and electronics featured that week. At the end, Fretter's image was superimposed over the products with him saying, "The competition knows me, you should too." The new approach reflected the loss of Fretter's consumer protection lawsuit and the increasing competition from Highland Appliance.

But there was also a new threat--the big box appliance stores popping up along the retail horizon. Advertising had gone from cute to cutthroat. By offering lost leaders (items retailers sold at a loss) big box stores like Best Buy, Circuit City, and Sam's Club undersold their competition. Fretter rolled the dice and took his company public on the New York Stock Exchange in 1986 to raise capital and expand into new markets to compete nationally.

Fretter's long-time competitor Highland Appliance filed for Chapter 11 bankrupcy in 1992. It owed its creditors $241 million dollars. Best Buy saw an opportunity and stepped in to fill the retail void by opening six big box stores in the Detroit area by the end of 1993.

Fretter bought up his biggest competitor Silo Electronics, but Silo hadn't posted a profit since the early 1980s. Fretter assumed Silo's debt and lack of liquid assets but expanded into more states anyway. The bottom dropped out of consumer electronics market due to stiff competition and falling stock values. Fretter spread his assets too thin and banks refused to lend him any more money. By 1995, all Silo Electronics stores closed, with all Fretter stores closing by the end of June 1996. Ollie retired after forty-six years in the retail business.

Fred Yaffe, president of the advertising agency that handled the Fretter account from1992 until 1995, noted, "It wasn't any one thing that killed Fretter's business. It was a bunch of things that all happened at once. He had serious competitors with deeper pockets, constant price wars in the appliance and electronics industries, and a lack of new products like VCRs and handheld video cameras."

Oliver "Ollie" Fretter lived out his life in Bloomfield Hills and died at Beaumont Hospice on June 29, 2014 at the age of ninty-one. He was survived by his wife of sixty-five years Elma M., his adult children Laura and Howard, and his grandchildren Alexandra, Andrew, and Catherine.

"Ollie's Ooop" Sale (1979) 

The Black Christ Domed Ceiling Mural--Detroit Art Treasure in Peril

The Black Christ by DeVon Cunningham. Notice the water damage on Jesus' robe and the mold around the edges of the mural.

In 1969, Detroit artist DeVon Cunningham achieved national recognition when he painted the Black Christ inside the dome of St. Cecilia’s Catholic Church on Detroit’s Westside. This French Romanesque church was built in 1930 at the beginning of the Great Depression when the parish congregants were mostly White.

After the second world war, White flight to the suburbs began changing the ethnicity of the neighborhood from White to mostly Black. The church's name was changed in 2013 to Charles Lawanga Parish to reflect the shift in ethnicity of the neighborhood.

In 1968, Parish priest Father Raymond Ellis responded to a protest demonstration in 1968 of St. Cecilia’s high school students who no longer accepted the traditional blonde, blue-eyed, light-skinned Jesus they saw in their religious literature and statuary. Father Ellis commissioned local artist and parish member DeVon Cunningham to paint a mural of a Black Christ on the dome above the altar. Parishioners welcomed the hopeful, comforting mural with open arms.

The mural featured a twenty-four-foot, brown-skinned image of Jesus flanked by six angels serving High Mass—one is Native American, another is Asian, two are White, and two are Black, set against a celestial background. The figures painted at the bottom of the mural along the cloud line represent notable church and historic figures like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King. The size and splendor of the mural is awe-inspiring.

Working eighty-five feet above the altar, Cunningham, who had a fear of heights, was strapped to a scaffold for eight months to complete the work. The original church architect who designed St. Cecilia was recruited to geometrically calculate the correct proportions of the figures due to the curvature of the dome.

A national controversy erupted when an image of the Black Christ appeared on the cover of Ebony magazine in March of 1969. The very idea of a Black Christ shook many White American Christians to the foundations of their faith.

Responding to local criticism, parish priest Father Ellis explained in a Detroit Free Press interview that “Black parishioners have a legitimate complaint when they walk into a church to worship and everything is White. Christianity forces people to accept the ethnocentrism of Western European culture. The historical Jesus was Hebrew, a Jew from the Middle East. He may have had dark skin; he might have been fair-skinned. But Christ is the head of the church, he is God, and he is any color people want him to be.”

The widespread belief in the United States of a White Christ can be traced to 1924, when commercial illustrator Warner Sallman made a charcoal sketch of Jesus for his church. Sixteen years later in 1940, Sallman believed he had a moment of divine inspiration when he painted his sketch into an oil painting for an Evangelical magazine. The painting was named Head of Christ. 

From there, the Gospel Trumpet Company, the publishing arm of the Church of God, bought the rights and widely published various sized lithographic images of Sallman’s painting for sale throughout the Southern United States, the Salvation Army, the YMCA, and the USO. Wallet sized versions were handed out to soldiers during World War II.

Head of Christ by Warner Sallman

After the war, Christian groups began to widely distribute the image publicly. During the Cold War, one Lutheran spokesperson proclaimed, “There ought to be ‘card-carrying Christians’ to counter the effect of ‘card-carrying Communists’.” In midcentury America, the image was widely distributed as a reaction to the Red Scare and the threat of Godless atheism.

The Face of Christ painting was the accepted depiction of Jesus for many Americans. It has been reproduced well over 500 million times in portraits, prayer and mass cards, illustrations in Bibles, Sunday school literature, church bulletins and calendars, posters, buttons, and bumper stickers, deeply etching it into the imaginations of true believers. Sallman’s painting depicted a light-haired, pale-skinned, blue-eyed Jesus with Nordic features. After all, Sallman was the son of Scandinavian immigrants.

Most White Americans could not accept the idea of an ethnic Jesus despite the many works of art that have appeared since antiquity to modern times. When DeVon Cunningham painted his mural of the Black Christ, he had no intention of making a political statement or creating an incident.

Twenty-five years later, the Cunningham mural once again became a topic of controversy when the New York Times ran an article on Christmas Day in 1994 entitled “Just Who Was Jesus?" Four images of Jesus ran with the article, The Redeemer, a mosaic from the 12th century; Christ by Flemish painter Anthony Van Dyck in the 17th century; the Head of Christ by Warner E. Sallman in 1940, and the Black Christ by DeVon Cunningham in 1969.

Cunningham’s Black Christ gained international prominence in 2009 when the Vatican and Pope Benedict XVI sent out Christmas cards with four depictions of Christ’s image, three from antiquity and the fourth being the Black Christ by DeVon Cunningham, the only living artist to be so honored. DeVon Cunningham passed away on July 31, 2023, at the age of eighty-eight.

DeVon Cunningham

In 2024, parishioners began noticing Jesus’ robe was becoming discolored from a leak in the roof. Other parts of the mural were also showing moisture, mold, and mildew damage, most notably around the edges of the dome. Because of other expensive repairs necessary to restore the church building, the Archdiocese of Detroit made the difficult decision to close the parish. The last mass held in Charles Lawanga Parish was on October 12, 2025.

It would be a shame for Detroit to lose such an acclaimed work of religious art, but the die is cast. Ways are being explored to commemorate the mural photographically and restore it digitally to reveal and preserve its full grandeur. The hope is that the mural will be enshrined in an exhibit in one of the city’s fine museums for future generations to appreciate this great work and the artist who created it.

DeVon Cunningham Short Bio

DeVon Cunningham website

Sir Graves Ghastly's Rise and Fall

Lawson Deming was a graduate of Western Reserve University who studied speech, drama, and math. "Deming began performing professionally when he worked in vaudeville," said Sonny Eliot, Lawson's longtime friend.

A lifelong Cleveland, Ohio resident, Deming landed a radio job at WHK in 1932 where he met his wife Rita, who was a hostess of a women's talk show. "The greatest fun was radio," Deming said in a 1982 Detroit Free Press interview, "because we were creating something in somebody's mind with voices, dialogue, music, and sound effects. We created a whole world."

In 1949, Deming switched over to Cleveland television station WTAM where he met co-worker Bill Kennedy early in their television careers. They became good friends. Deming hosted a movie show called One O'Clock Playhouse. He also worked as a puppeteer on a program entitled Woodrow the Woodsman. Although his face never appeared on-screen, he supplied the voices for characters named Freddy Gezundheit, the alley crock; Tarkington Whom II, the owl; and Voracious, the elephant. His work on Woodrow the Woodman brought Deming to Detroit in 1966 when the show was moved to WJBK for taping.

Soon after arriving at WJBK, Deming was approached by program producer and director Jay Frommert about playing the character Ghoulardi and showing horror movies. But Ghoulardi was already being done in Cleveland by Ernie Anderson. Deming suggested he be allowed to create his own character. On Saturday, January 22, 1967, Sir Graves Ghastly rose from the grave on the premise that "Sir Graves was hanged 400 years ago by Queen Elizabeth, but like a bad vaccination, it didn't take."

The shadow-eyed, hair plastered down, goateed Sir Graves began his show by opening a creaky casket from within which was located on a graveyeard set. For the next two hours, the red-gloved, black-capped, comic vampire cracked bad jokes while riffing on the B-grade horror movies he showed between commercial breaks. To complete his Dracula parody, Sir Graves had an infectious laugh, "Nyeeea aaaa haa haaaaa" and he was prone to "hippyisms" in his speech.

Sir Graves and his alter-ego Lawson Deming

Weekly segments on Sir Graves program were the scrolling of children's names celebrating their birthdays, and the "Art Ghoulery" where kids sent in their drawings of Sir Graves, vampires, and werewolves, hoping Sir Graves would feature them on his show.

Deming created a cast of characters all portrayed by him and edited onto the master tape so Sir Graves could interact with them on camera. The cast included Reel McCoy, a character who digs up old B-movie horror films; Tilly Trollhouse, wildly off-key, blonde singer; the Glob, an extreme closeup of Deming's mouth videoed upside down, lip-syncing songs; Cool Ghoul, an over-the-hill motorcycle freak; and Walter, Sir Grave's prissy alter ego who keeps telling him, "You're sick, sick, sick!"

Unlike earlier WXYZ horror movie host Mr. X on Shock Theater, Sir Graves wasn't meant to scare anybody. Deming worked from a rough outline and adlibbed his way through the show, often spouting bad jokes sent in by viewers. The show was a mixture of cheesy horror movies and corny humor.

Viewers, half of whom were males over eighteen-years-old, were almost afraid to laugh at some of Sir Graves' groaners but couldn't help themselves like: "What did the Frankenstein monster say after he ate a six-cylinder engine?" What? "I could've had a V8."

Deming continued to live in Cleveland and took charter flights to Detroit twice a month on Wednesdays until January 1970. He missed his flight and the plane crashed through the Lake Erie ice killing all aboard. After that, Deming and his wife agreed that taking the three-hour, midnight bus ride was a safer option.

In true vampire fashion, he arrived at WJBK before the break of dawn and read fan mail before preparing for taping from 9 am until 11 am for the Saturday show. Then, he taped nine additional segments to be fitted into two movies between commercial breaks, before he took the 4:00 pm bus back to Cleveland. Deming worked two twelve hour days a month producing four programs.

The high point of Sir Graves' career may have been when he emceed Detroit's American Cancer Society benefit called "Black Cat Caper," a pre-halloween costume ball at Cobo Hall on Friday, October 13, 1972. Sir Graves made a grand entrance at 9:15 pm in a coffin carried by Detroit media pallbearers Bob Allison, J.P. McCarthy, Dick Purtan, Bob Talbert, Jac Le Goff, and John Kelly. Tickets cost $13.13. The grand prize for best costume was an eight-day trip to London for two, with a three-day stay at a 500-year-old, haunted abode in a village named Pluckley.

In April of 1983 after sixteen years of faithful service, Lawson Deming was handed his walking papers by WJBK's general manager Bill Flynn. "I never could figure out why he dumped me. We had the highest-rated Saturday show in our market, and it was a money-maker for them." But it was too late for Sir Graves. By this time, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, had run off with his male audience.

Deming retired in Cleveland and lived for another twenty-four years before he left this vale of tears on April 27, 2007, at the age of ninety-four. His spirit can rest easy knowing the joy he gave to his television audience. Many a Detroit Baby Boomer will shed a tear in memory of Lawson Deming's Sir Graves Ghastly character. David Deming's eulogy at his father's funeral service attributed the longevity of his father's career to "his warm spirit and genuine love of kids."

Sir Graves show intro 

Sir Graves characters 

Shock Theater WXYZ