Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara

 He was a Jewish kid from Brooklyn. She was an Irish-Catholic girl from Brooklyn. They met in an agent's waiting room. He asked her for coffee. She ordered just a coffee because she could tell he had no money — then took all the silverware. He picked up her 10-cent check and thought: this is the girl I want to spend my life with. They were married 61 years. They made 36 appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show. And their son became 1 of the most successful comedian-directors in Hollywood history.

This is Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara. 1970s.

And their story is 1 of the most genuinely warm love stories in the history of American comedy.

Gerald Isaac Stiller was born on June 8, 1927, in Brooklyn, New York. His father, William, was a bus driver whose own parents had emigrated from Galicia. His mother, Bella, had come from Poland. The family was Jewish, working-class, and grounded in the particular rhythms of New York Jewish life that would eventually become the raw material for everything Jerry did on stage and screen.

He was stage-struck from childhood. He studied drama at Syracuse University — graduating with a Bachelor of Arts — and moved back to New York determined to make it as an actor. He worked in small theater productions. He was in a production of Peter Pan, alongside actress Veronica Lake. He joined an improvisational theater company called the Compass Players in St. Louis — the same company that would later evolve into the famous Second City troupe that launched decades of American comedians.

He was building. Slowly, seriously, without any particular safety net.

Anne Meara was born on September 20, 1929, in Brooklyn — though she grew up in Woodmere, Long Island. Her father was a lawyer. Her childhood contained something that never left her: when she was just 11 years old, her mother died by suicide. That loss — abrupt, unexplained, unprocessable at 11 — sat underneath everything she did for the rest of her life.

She was, by her own description, a red-haired, loud, Irish-Catholic girl who loved performing and disdained comedians. She had studied briefly at The New School in Manhattan and launched her acting career in summer stock in 1948. She wanted to be a serious actress. Comedy was not the plan.

Then she walked into a casting office in Manhattan in 1953.

Jerry Stiller was already in the waiting room.

"I took her out for coffee," Jerry recalled decades later. "She seemed to sense I had no money, so she just ordered coffee. Then she took all the silverware. I picked up her check for 10 cents and thought: this is a girl I'd like to hang out with."

They began dating immediately.

In 1954, at a time when Jewish-Catholic intermarriage raised significant eyebrows in both communities, Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara got married anyway.

"When I met Anne," Jerry explained later, "nobody of my own background wanted to marry me."

Their families had reservations. Their communities had reservations. The couple had exactly none. They signed a marriage certificate and went back to work on being funny.

The comedy act was not Anne's idea.

Jerry had watched her in everyday conversation and knew she was naturally, effortlessly hilarious — with the timing, the instincts, the physical expressiveness of a born comedian. He kept telling her. She kept dismissing him. She had disdained comedians her whole career. She was not going to become one.

He wore her down.

"Jerry started us being a comedy team," she said in an interview years later. "He always thought I would be a great comedy partner. At that time in my life, I disdained comedians."

Their first sketch together was called "Jonah" — Anne played a TV news reporter, Jerry played an older man from Miami Beach who had been swallowed by a whale. They performed it in a small Greenwich Village club.

The audience laughed. Then laughed harder.

They kept going.

By the late 1950s, Stiller and Meara were performing in major nightclubs across America — the Blue Angel in New York, clubs in Las Vegas, venues in Chicago and Los Angeles. Their comedy was built around what they actually were: a Jewish man and an Irish-Catholic woman, married, navigating the hilarious and genuine culture clash of their everyday life.

They wrote from life because their life was genuinely funny.

On April 7, 1963, they made their first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show.

"Sullivan scared the stuff out of me," Anne recalled in a 2010 interview. "I wasn't the only one. There were international favourites from all over the world throwing up in the wings — singers and tenors and guys who spin plates. It was live. We were scared."

They did not look scared on screen. They looked like 2 people who had been making each other laugh for a decade and had simply invited the country to watch.

The audience responded immediately. Ed Sullivan booked them back. Then back again. Over the following decade, Stiller and Meara logged 36 appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show — a number that placed them among the most frequently featured acts in the program's history. Historycentral

They recorded comedy albums. They wrote and performed radio commercials — most famously a long-running series of spots for Blue Nun wine, in which they played a bickering couple whose arguments kept looping back to the wine. The spots ran for years. Blue Nun became 1 of the best-selling imported wines in America, credited in significant part to the Stiller and Meara campaign.

Their daughter Amy was born in 1961. Their son Benjamin Edward Stiller was born on November 30, 1965.

Ben grew up watching his parents perform. He grew up backstage at comedy clubs and television studios, watching 2 professional funny people navigate marriage, career, creative partnership, and parenthood simultaneously. He grew up understanding, from the inside, that comedy is not just a gift. It is a discipline. It is craft. It is 2 people who love each other enough to keep telling the truth.

In the 1970s, after more than a decade together, Stiller and Meara dissolved the act.

Not the marriage. The act.

Anne resumed the serious acting career she had always wanted. She appeared in films — The Out-of-Towners, Fame, Awakenings. She won an Obie Award for stage work. She wrote a Broadway play called After-Play — a comedy about 2 New York couples having dinner after seeing a Broadway show — in which she and Jerry starred together, because some collaborations cannot be fully dissolved no matter how deliberately you try.

She received 4 Emmy Award nominations across her television career. She won a Writers Guild Award in 1983 for co-writing the TV movie The Other Woman.

Jerry went to television. He appeared in Seinfeld beginning in 1993, playing Frank Costanza — the volatile, screaming, inappropriately intense father of George Costanza — in a role that introduced him to an entirely new generation that had not been born when Stiller and Meara were appearing on Ed Sullivan. Frank Costanza gave the world Festivus — the "holiday for the rest of us," a Seinfeld invention that has entered actual cultural practice, with people genuinely celebrating it every December 23 around the world.

He appeared in The King of Queens from 1998 to 2007. He appeared in films directed by his son Ben — Zoolander, Heavyweights. He was 92 years old when he died, still beloved by 2 completely separate generations who knew him for 2 completely different things.

Anne Meara died on May 23, 2015, in New York City. She was 85 years old. They had been married for 61 years.

The family's statement read: "She is survived by her husband and partner in life Jerry Stiller. The two were married for 61 years and worked together almost as long."

Jerry Stiller died on May 11, 2020, in New York City. He was 92 years old. He had outlived Anne by 5 years.

Their son Ben Stiller — who directed There's Something About Mary, Zoolander, The Royal Tenenbaums, Tropic Thunder, and the Zoolander franchise, and who has his own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame — wrote simply: "I'm sad to say that my father, Jerry Stiller, passed away from natural causes. He was a great dad and grandfather, and the most dedicated husband to Anne for about 62 years. He will be greatly missed."

About 62 years.

A Jewish kid from Brooklyn and an Irish-Catholic girl from Long Island, in a waiting room in 1953, a 10-cent cup of coffee, and all the silverware on the table.

Look at this photograph.

The 1970s. The act has been dissolved. The careers are going in separate directions. But she is leaning over his shoulder with the ease of someone who has been leaning on this person for 20 years and has not once found the position uncomfortable.

He is looking at the camera with the face of a man who knows exactly what is behind him.

Share this with someone who needs to be reminded — that the best creative partnerships and the best love stories are often the same thing, and that 10 cents and a stolen fork can be the beginning of 61 years.

9-11 at the Pentagon

 

On the morning of September 11, 2001, Lt. Col. Marilyn Wills walked into the Pentagon expecting an ordinary day.

Nothing about the morning suggested history was about to arrive at 530 miles per hour.

She followed the routine she had followed countless times before. Arrive early. Review the schedule. Prepare for meetings. In the military, punctuality was more than a habit—it was a way of life.

Shortly before 9 a.m., she joined thirteen others in a conference room on the Pentagon's second floor.

The conversation was routine.

Personnel matters.

Schedules.

Administrative decisions.

Outside those walls, however, America was already changing.

Two hijacked planes had struck the World Trade Center.

Hundreds of miles away, another aircraft was racing toward Washington.

At 9:37 a.m., American Airlines Flight 77 slammed into the Pentagon.

The explosion was immediate.

Violent.

Absolute.

The room vanished into darkness.

Marilyn Wills felt herself thrown across the conference table as the building shook around her. Smoke flooded the air. Burning jet fuel filled every breath. Heat rolled through the room with terrifying speed.

Her hair caught fire.

Training took over where fear could not.

Disoriented and unable to see, she dropped to the floor and began crawling through the darkness, searching for a way out.

She remembered where a door should have been.

When her hand finally found the handle, she grabbed it.

The metal was scorching hot.

Flames were already consuming the other side.

That route was gone.

So she turned and crawled another direction.

Then she felt something unexpected.

A hand gripping the back of her belt.

In the chaos, she shouted into the darkness.

"Who is this? Talk to me."

A frightened voice answered.

It belonged to Lois Stevens, a civilian employee trapped in the smoke and debris.

Terrified.

Injured.

Unable to see.

For a brief moment, Marilyn faced a choice.

She could continue alone.

Or she could stay with a stranger.

Her decision came instantly.

She told Lois words neither woman would ever forget.

"Hold on to me. Where I go, you go."

Together they moved through the wreckage.

Marilyn crawled forward using memory, instinct, and determination.

Lois followed behind, gripping tightly to her belt.

Others heard Marilyn's voice echoing through the darkness.

One by one, injured colleagues moved toward the sound.

Soon a small group was following her through smoke so thick that visibility had disappeared completely.

There were no clear paths.

No signs pointing toward safety.

Only a voice refusing to give up.

The heat grew worse.

At one point, Lois collapsed.

The fire had melted her nylons into her skin.

The pain became unbearable.

She told Marilyn she could not continue.

Many people would have understood.

Few would have argued.

Marilyn did neither.

Instead, she gave a simple answer.

"Oh yes you can."

Then she lifted Lois onto her back.

And carried her.

Step by painful step.

Through smoke.

Through heat.

Through a building that was still burning around them.

Eventually they reached a window.

There was another problem.

The glass was designed to withstand powerful impacts.

It would not open.

An Army specialist hurled a printer at it.

Nothing.

Others joined the effort.

Finally, through persistence and teamwork, they forced the frame outward enough to create an escape route.

Fresh air.

A chance.

A way out.

Marilyn removed her Army sweater and pressed it into Lois's hands.

"Breathe through this," she told her.

Then she helped others escape first.

One after another.

Only when everyone else had gone through the opening did Marilyn climb out herself.

Behind her, the damaged building continued to burn.

That morning, fourteen people had entered the conference room.

Not all of them made it home.

Across the Pentagon, 184 lives were lost that day.

Friends.

Coworkers.

Parents.

Americans who had started an ordinary Tuesday and never saw another sunrise.

Lois Stevens was not one of them.

She survived.

The woman Marilyn carried through smoke and fire lived for more than two decades after that day.

The two remained connected for the rest of Lois's life, bound forever by a decision made in darkness.

Marilyn received honors for her actions, including the Soldier's Medal and the Purple Heart.

But medals were never the story she chose to tell.

When people called her a hero, she often redirected attention toward those who never came home.

Those were the faces she remembered.

Those were the names she carried.

The burns healed.

The injuries slowly improved.

The memories never completely left.

Yet she continued to serve.

She returned to work.

She deployed overseas.

She completed her military career and retired after decades of service.

But perhaps the most remarkable part of her story happened in a single instant.

A hand grabbed her belt.

A frightened voice called out from the darkness.

The path to safety still existed.

She could have taken it alone.

Instead, she chose something else.

She chose responsibility.

She chose courage.

She chose another human being.

And with five simple words, she created a promise that would survive long after the smoke cleared.

"Where I go, you go."

Sometimes heroism is not a grand speech.

Sometimes it is not a medal.

Sometimes it is one person refusing to leave another behind.

Even when the world is falling apart around them.

Monday, June 8, 2026

Ed McMahon

 


He is remembered for one line. "Heeeere's Johnny!!" — boomed with that unmistakable voice, night after night, for three decades. But Ed McMahon was never just a sidekick. Long before television discovered him, the U.S. Marine Corps already had.

In 1944, McMahon earned his pilot's wings and became a test pilot and flight instructor, training other men to fly the fearsome F4U Corsair. He never made it to the Pacific front — the war ended before his orders could be carried out. But he stayed in the Marine Corps Reserve. Quietly. Waiting. And when Korea erupted, the Marines called him back.

This time, there was no staying behind. McMahon flew an OE-1 observation aircraft — a small, unarmed plane — directly into combat zones over North Korea. No guns. No armor. Just skill, nerve, and a voice that never shook. He flew 85 missions, spotting targets for artillery batteries and guiding Navy and Marine fighter-bombers onto their marks. For that, he earned six Air Medals. He remained in the Reserve through the Vietnam era and retired in 1966 as a full Colonel. Sixteen years later, he was honored as a Brigadier General in the California Air National Guard.

He went on to co-host The Tonight Show alongside fellow veteran Johnny Carson for 30 years, anchor NBC's Macy's Thanksgiving coverage, host Star Search, and share the stage with Dick Clark on TV's Bloopers & Practical Jokes. America watched him every night and laughed. Very few knew what he had flown through to get there. Ed McMahon passed away on June 23, 2009, at the age of 86 — a Colonel, a combat aviator, and one of the most genuinely decorated entertainers America ever produced. The question worth asking: how many other familiar faces carried a uniform you never saw.

Sunday, June 7, 2026

Wet, Wet in Southwest Iowa

 79º with spotty rain here in Clarinda, IA at 2:45 pm on Sunday.  Has rained most every night lately, 1.5" Saturday morning.  Yesterday was the 119th Anniversary of my Mother - Pearl Miles' birthday; and, 92nd Anniversary of Mom & Dad (Kermit & Pearl Miles) wedding.

1.5" Friday morning.


Attended Sage Spring Financial's appreciation
dinner at the Country Club Thursday evening.
















Old photo taken in South Dakota in the late 1950's
Brother Darrell, cousin Rosemarie, Dad, Louise,
Dad's sister Alma and Mom

Old photo of our family about 1982











Eating lunch on the deck Friday



With all the rain and heat the grass keeps growing!












Above shows the schedule we will be working at the Glenn Miller Festival Thursday-Saturday











At right is schedule for Pioneer Picnic in Callaway, Nebraska.  We plan to go to Callaway on Thursday, the 25th see if we can see some old neighbors, attend the Parade on Saturday and then my 65th Callaway High School 1961 Class Reunion at the park.

LCM

Tuesday, June 2, 2026

Back home in Clarinda

 76º here in Clarinda, IA at 11:45 am Tuesday - with forecast high of 83º

Well, we were away from a good WIFI for 11 days, 10 nights - most in our trailer with low phone receiving and little/no Hotspot WIFI from it.


The Back Forty Bluegrass Festival ground is used only a week out of the year.  These photos wwre taken from the side of our trailer -- we weren't disturbing the local residents too much!




This photo taken at the west edge of the stage/campground
area.  Crops needed a little rain -- which we got on Saturday.

This is next to the field in the last photo.  Stage
is to the left, down the hill from this dam.

Stage area - days before the festival


Stage when crowd there

Not as large as Starvy Creek, but good sized.















Rhonda Vincent and the Rage onstage.  This
first set got rained out -- hard rain for an hour.

Rhonda's Momma sang two songs with her















This is after the rain and about an hour and a half
break.  We were cold and sitting on wet chairs.

I hand-held the camera to video the entire show,
some 26.5 hours -- that will cramp your hand/arm.

















We really enjoyed the 2 sets of the Kody Norris
Show on Friday!


It was threatening rain Sunday morning, but we
unset the trailer and pulled out early.  Had over
2" of rain at home -- the pump system seems to work
but might not have needed it for part of the time.  I
have it set to drip-irrigate 4 minutes every 6 hours.

Now we (Phyllis) is working on the next project.  She has met a few times with the manager of the Glenn Miller Birthplace Festival to be on next week and we will spend all day Thursday, Friday, Saturday at the high school helping shoo people around (Ushering) and helping as needed.










More later, LCM

Saturday, May 30, 2026

Watching for rain here 30 miles south of Hannibal, MO

It is now Saturday morning and rain clouds are building, possibil rain by 3 pm.
Had a full day of entertainment yesterday and recorded all of it.   With poor phone connection for WIFI I will only post a bit on the phone. 

These are easy to post--will post Festival photos after we are home Sunday evening or Monday morning when have a good WIFI. 

Since all forty or so RV's are on grass, and we have a slope to pull up to get out of here it may be interesting trying to pull out with the expected rain.


More first of the week. 
LC

 

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

At Back Forty Bluegrass Festival Campground near Curryville, Missouri

When we got to the Chateau Vicki was playing bingo
with about 20 other residents so we joined in.
78 degrees here at Back Forty Bluegrass Festival site at 10:45 AM Tuesday, with predicted high of 81 degrees.  Bright sunshine.  We returned from Cape Girardeau yesterday to our spot here, ready for the music to start later this week.  I only have my phone as a HotSpot and it has only three little bars.  Took 2 1/4 minutes to upload each of these photos.  Will be slow, but have lots of time today.
 
Don sitting in his usual chair a few feet from
the dining room, reading a birthday letter.


Phyllis with Vicki -- right near where Don is sitting.
Nurses station is in background.








When we were in Cape a month ago we got several SD Cards of photos that Don or Vicki had taken beteen 2001 and 2008.  I have them in albums on my computer and showed Don & Vicki.  Don watched, but didn't show recognition.  Vicki got a lot of good from it, explaining when they were in Italy, New York City, Florida and identified some of her family members and co-workers.



Don sat here for a long time just looking out the
window in Vicki's apartment while we did things for Vicki.








Don has lost all muscle and/or memory of how to get up and move.  Takes two ladies to move him from chair to wheel chair or vice/versa and into and out of bed.  He doesn't attempt to move the wheel chair with his hands/arms.


Is now 2:05 pm -- we went for a walk, it is completely overcast now.  Not too bad a day, have windows open on trailer where I am and Phyllis is sitting outside.

Sunday evening we ate supper with them.


Sunday evening dominos

Sunday evening dominos















Well, that last photo took just over 15 minutes to upload........................I am growing weary.  Think we will drive to Bowling Green, MO and get a bite to eat.  Maybe more later, LCM

Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara

 He was a Jewish kid from Brooklyn. She was an Irish-Catholic girl from Brooklyn. They met in an agent's waiting room. He asked her for ...