actually caveman, that’s kinda cool. You’ll have reason to remember him for the rest of your life, as you reflect back on future birthdays.
I never realized that This American Life kept an archive of all of their shows on their website. I am digging through, in an attempt to find the bit on Mr. Rogers.
I found it. It is episode 184, named “Neighbors”, and was broadcast May 11, 2001.
I got to actually see Mr. Rogers at this last year. I say to you, Mr. Rogers, just what you said to us then:
“When I bow to you, I bow to the eternal that is within you.”
I loved Mr. Rogers. My daughter never watched him, but I think it’s about time to start.
He was a great role model.
Bye, Mr. Rogers. You will be missed greatly.
Now this we can agree on! I live in Pittsburgh, the same city Mr. Rogers lived in, if not the same neighborhood, and the same city his show was filmed in. The local PBS station said they were making all the episodes of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood available to all other PBS stations and it sounds like they’ll be running a long block of back-to-back episodes as a tribute to him.
I never had the privilege of meeting him, but from all accounts, he was a genuinely good, decent human being. What we saw on television is what he was. It’s been an honor sharing a planet with him, let alone a city.
CJ
I’m so sad. I watched Mr. Rogers while growing up as well… I’ll repost here what I just wrote in my journal after reading this thread:
What a wonderful, wonderful, loving man. I remember watching his show as a small child and simply enjoying it. It was not exciting, it was not energetic; Mr. Rogers simply felt welcoming and kind. He spoke slowly and softly, and his sing-song voice had a certain lulling quality to it. He spoke about divorce, about the death of a pet fish, and about how much fun it could be to Make-Believe. He made popcorn for us (and I believe he truly meant it when he said, “I wish I could give you some of this popcorn, right through the television”) and he took us on trips to the crayon factory and around his neighborhood. Sometimes the people of the Land of Make-Believe would have operas. Mr. Rogers knew we were all special, and he made us all feel special and loved, and welcome in his neighborhood. Mr. Rogers was a good neighbor. He help teach me what it meant to be a good neighbor. I’ll miss him.
Thank you Mr. Rogers.
A few years ago my sister made a disparaging remark about Mr. Rogers when we were flipping thru the channels. I blurted out
“No you are wrong! Mr. Rogers is a kind gentle soul who only wanted to reassure us that we were too big to go down the drain. Mr. Rogers loves us and he thinks we are fine just the way we are, and he knows that we’ll have things to talk about and he will too. And his mommy knitted him all those sweaters before she died and he saves them just for the show and…”
I was amazed how emotional I became defending this man’s name. Mr. Fred Rogers wonderful name.
We also shared a birthday–March 20. I only hope that the date works its magic on me eventually.
Man, I’ve got a tear in my eye…
Does anyone else remember back in the '80s when Mister Rogers guested on THE TONIGHT SHOW when Joan Rivers was guest-hosting? IIRC, she introduced Mister Rogers, then began to give him her usual line of sh*t . . . I believe she asked him smirkily when he first developed his “special interest” in children . . .
And the audience began to boo her.
Rogers quickly defused the situation with a laugh and an offhand remark, to let everyone know that he took no offense–and the look of gratitude on Rivers’ face was priceless. The rest of the interview was as sincere as could be.
At least that’s how I remember it. Did anyone else see that?
We lost a national treasure today.
Ex-yinzer here too. As others have said, a kind and gentle man - but cool too, according to a story a friend tells.
In the early 70’s, he and Michael Keaton (yes, that one), worked as stagehands at WQED. The crew joke was to try to get Fred to ‘break character’. One day, as he opened his closet (where an off-camera stagehand stood in for the coathanger) - there stood a naked Keaton.
Fred didn’t miss a beat.
He was one of the truly rare, genuinely nice guys.
Here’s a link to Friday’s Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (his home town paper) special section:
http://www.post-gazette.com/images2/friday.pdf
It’s a PDF (Adobe) file. Page 1 is the paper’s cover photo.
The photo on page 2 of the 8 year old girl holding up her remembrance of Mr. Rogers is heart-wrenching sad. If it gets picked up by the news-wires - it will be a picture of the year.
I had to explain who Mr Rodgers was to an Irish friend of mine. I wrote this:
The only reason I quoted that is because we basicly said the same thing.
He was a wonderful man, true and pure. It’s so rare we humans get one it is always a sad day when we lose one of the few we have.
I have posted twice in this thread already.
I wrote an e-mail to my Mom this morning, shortly after I heard the news, and I have waited all day long for her reply. I knew she would write. All I said was, “Mister Rogers died.” Here is her message to me…
"IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY…
Yes, I was going to e-mail you today. I will always remember the little trolley going into the “other” place (I forget the name, damn it. Some kind of kingdom.) You loved that part. Certainly, Mr. Rogers was an influence on your development. I saw he in person in Nantucket, but I didn’t say anything to him. Oh well.
So have a good cry. Love, Mom."
From National Lampoon’s “That’s Not Funny That’s Sick!” (1977)
(Bill Murray as “stoned Bass player”)
On the TV show, the trolley went to the “Land of Make Believe” 
When I was a wee lass, I wrote him letters and he always responded. Handwritten stuff, not typed. He was the only adult I ever talked to outside of my family, really. I have no idea why I started sending him letters. I was 7-8 years old and my letters started mostly off as pictures and eventually grew to lines and a bit more. There is a signed book I have called “Letters to Mister Rogers” that has a picture I drew of me holding my little brother Matthew.
I carried his letters to me around in a big, dark brown purse until about the 4th or 5th grade. I don’t know what happened to them or the purse, but they were probably thrown out, like so many other things.
It’s kind of sad. Part of me is like “I never got to think him for spending the time to send me the letters. It means a lot to me.”
But…
I think he knew.
Rifleman?
What, PrayTell,is a Rifleman?
He taught children how to be human beings.
Goodbye, Fred Rodgers. I’ll miss you a lot.
I watched Mr. Rogers more as a highschooler than I ever did as a little one. Until school started again in August and I couldn’t anymore, except on those rare instances.
Today was a real bummer, man.
Many years ago, when I was studying in Pittsburgh, a friend of mine had this story to tell:
He was coming out of a grocery store when he saw an elderly man trying to load bags into the trunk of his car. The store was one of those with barriers to keep you from taking the shopping cart out to the parking lot, so the man had pulled his car up to the loading area. He used a cane and was obviously having trouble lifting the bags out of the cart, over the barriers and into the trunk. Usually there were bag boys on duty to help, but this day there were none to be seen. So my friend stopped, put down his bags, and helped him. The old man thanked him warmly and walked around to drive away.
As my friend stooped to pick up his own bags, a very very familiar voice behind him said, “That was very thoughtful of you.” He turned his head and looked straight into the gentlest eyes ever seen on television.
From then on, “Mister Rogers might be watching you” was all it took to remind someone in our group of friends to do the right thing.