Howard Hesseman

Anyone who worked in the radio business in the 1970s will likely tell you they knew some of the characters on WKRP in Cincinnati.

They’ll feel a kinship with Dr. Johnny Fever, the itinerant rock jock portrayed by Howard Hesseman, who has died at the age of 81.

Hesseman had some experience to draw from, as we learn from this wire service story of July 9, 1979.

WKRP's Johnny Fever Spent Time Underground
By TOM JORY
Associated Press Writer
NEW YORK (AP)—Howard Hesseman's portrayal of Dr. Johnny Fever, the laid-back DJ at Cincinnati's WKRP, is so convincing, it's no surprise the actor actually spent some time spinning records for a radio station, underground rock at that.
Hesseman says of his stint at KMPX in San Francisco, "Very little and very poor." Nonetheless, you get the feeling—through Dr. Johnny Fever—that Hesseman learned a good deal in six months on the air. "While we were making the pilot for 'WKRP,' a number of people I'd known in radio would slide into the back-brain," Hesseman recalls. "The character originally was Johnny Sunshine—narrow lapels, cheap dark suit—and I said that just didn't seem right to me.”
Hesseman says Hugh Wilson, the show's producer who wrote the pilot, was receptive to his suggestions for changing the Howard Hesseman character, and the eccentric, dissheveled Dr. Johnny Fever emerged.
"Nobody serves as a specific role model," the actor says. "In a symbolic and sentimental way, it's a salute to those guys we've all heard on the radio. It seemed like an excellent way of personifying a sort of minor cultural hero."
"WKRP in Cincinnati," which airs on CBS Monday evenings at 8:30, in the gap between "M-A-S-H" and "Lou Grant," got off to a bumpy start last fall, suffered from several pre-emptions, and was pulled back until after the first of the year.
The comedy was a big success on its return, and has been renewed for the fall.
It's the story of a small station that turns to rock ‘n’ roll under an energetic new program director, played by Gary Sandy, in an effort to attract new listeners and advertisers. Dr. Johnny Fever signs on as WKRP's first rock disc jockey.
Several strong and independently developed characters share the lead in "WKRP in Cincinnati"—Gordon Jump as Arthur Carlson, the station manager, Loni Anderson as Jennifer Marlowe, the station's secretary, Richard Sanders as news director LesNessman, Tim Reid as D J Venus Flytrap and that, perhaps, is the strength of the series.

"For network television," says Hesseman, "there's an awful lot of give and take between the actors and the writers. I came from an improvisational background, and I seem to have blundered into a situation where a lot of improvisation is not only allowed, but welcomed.
“Each character is different, and all of us have slightly different relationships with one another," the actor says. "I see Johnny as rather remote, restrained, not a joiner, whose one prime motivation in life is to do a good job."
Hesseman, born in Oregon, didn't take up acting until he moved to San Francisco after graduation from the University of Oregon. He acted in "Murder in the Cathedral" with the Company of the Golden Hind in San Francisco, and later appeared in productions of The Committee, an improvisational revue.
He appeared in his first movie, "Steelyard Blues," with Jane Fonda, in 1971, and has since acted in a dozen films, including "Petulia," "Billy Jack," "Shampoo," "The Sunshine Boys," and "Silent Movie."
His TV credits include parts in "The Life and Times of Sen. Joe McCarthy," "The Ghost of Flight 401," and "Howard, The Amazing Mr. Hughes," as well as several series.
“I’m negatively oriented,” he says of his commitment to a series. “The schedule can only be looked on by me as preventative to doing the kinds of work I could do on a freelance basis.
“It wasn’t, I’m pleased to say, the first series I was offered, and I took it because it seemed to offer some real promise.
"Comedy, with the blessing of the Great God of Satire, has been easy on me," Hesseman says, "but I would very much like to do more straight work, as it were."

After WKRP went off the air, Hesseman told the press he didn’t want to do another series. He ended up working on two, one being the lead in the school comedy The Head of the Class.

Hesseman quit after the fourth season. Anyone could see it coming. He told syndicated writer Frank Lovece at the end of 1987 he wasn’t happy with the writing:

“We did an episode where one of the characters breaks into a computer network to obtain information,” he explains. “Somebody says something to the effect of, ‘But you can’t do that,’ and the joke is, ‘Sure I can. Look.’” The culprit was not reprimanded, which bothers Hesseman. “In my mind, that seems to be condoning felonious behavior,” he says. “It may be only on a subliminal level, but the message is less than responsible — someone lies or breaks the law under some banner he’s waving in order to achieve his ends.”

And Scripps Howard writer Luaine Lee heard the same thing in August 1989 as Hesseman was about to begin his final season. To quote from the story:

It’s not necessarily true that there’s no socially redeeming value to his hit TV show “Head of the Class,” Howard Hesseman says. “It’s true in my opinion,” he adds with a wry smile, “but not necessarily true.”
“We’re not doing the show that I was led to believe I’d do. And it’s difficult for me to get off that,” he says. “I don’t want to air dirty laundry in public, but I do feel that the educational arena is one that offers a variety of story ideas as a means of investigating our lives — what we mean to one another and what’s important.”

What kind of show Head of the Class was is almost irrelevant. When you think of Howard Hesseman, that isn’t the show you think of.

The CBS publicity photo to the right has Johnny Fever holding a stack of carts. Back when WKRP was on, they were used to play recorded commercials and, at some stations, songs. With computer technology, I’d be surprised if any station still uses them. Back when WKRP was on, guys like Johnny Fever would go from one job to the next, finding a new station after being inevitably fired at the last one. Radio was their life. Today, radio stations sit empty, owned by corporations that save money by airing satellite programming.

The kind of radio that gave the world people like Dr. Johnny Fever is long gone. And, now, so is the actor who played him.