I got memories
Today, I鈥檓 26,833 days old.
That鈥檚 not a milestone.
It鈥檚 just another way of saying I鈥檓 currently in my 73rd year.
It鈥檚 also my way of saying I got lots of memories.
I鈥檇 better put some of them on paper before I forget I experienced them.
Here鈥檚 one.
Back in 1979, while working as a reporter for the ABC affiliate, WISN-TV in Milwaukee, I had an unusual encounter.
The comedic actor Robin Williams was in town to promote his new ABC sitcom, 鈥淢ork & Mindy.鈥�
While there, he also agreed to shoot some station promos, by repeating the station鈥檚 promotional theme on camera.
鈥淗ello, Milwaukee,鈥� he鈥檇 say as he walked on camera.
Amazingly, he said, 鈥淗ello, Milwaukee鈥� repeatedly 鈥� but in a different character 鈥� each time he walked on camera.
Dozens of times, dozens of different characters 鈥� and without missing a beat.
Before long, members of the WISN-TV staff flocked to the studio just to watch him work.
In 1979, Williams wasn鈥檛 the star he would become.
鈥淢ork & Mindy鈥� had only been on the air one season.
His talents were on full display that Friday afternoon.
But there鈥檚 more.
That night, Williams went to a local disco. (I did say it was the late 1970s, didn鈥檛 I?)
The dance floor at Park Avenue (the name of the place) was packed.
I found myself dancing near Williams.
He was having so much fun wildly dancing that he accidentally stepped on my right foot.
It didn鈥檛 faze me. Did I tell you it was a disco, in the late 1970s?
What followed was an upcoming star, apologizing profusely to a local news reporter 鈥� in a way only Robin Williams could do it. He completely cracked me up 鈥� for about three minutes.
I had just witnessed a Robin Williams mini-performance.
That night, I became a big Robin Williams fan.
In 1981, I had a completely different experience with a fellow I had long admired, Clayton Moore.
He had played every little boy鈥檚 hero of the 1950s 鈥� The Long Ranger.
I don鈥檛 know about you, but I aspired to ride with 鈥淢r. Lone鈥� and Tonto when I was a 9-year-old.
Well, in 1981, I had a chance to meet Clayton Moore.
I was working as a reporter for KPNX-TV in Phoenix when Moore came to Arizona to be the grand marshal of a parade in nearby Fountain Hills.
He was getting ready to ride his 鈥渢rusty steed鈥� 鈥� a white horse 鈥� into town and I was there to chronicle the event.
But there was one hitch.
Mr. Moore was close to 70 years old.
Before he would mount his horse, he wanted me to guarantee that my photographer wouldn鈥檛 shoot him doing it.
Age had caught up to the man who used to spring into action accompanied by the opening strains of the William Tell Overture.
But wait.
He was younger than I am today.
I guess I should probably stay away from horses.
I鈥檝e also had several unusual experiences in courtrooms.
I covered a groundbreaking case in Milwaukee, where a federal judge censored a publication on national security grounds.
That was a first in the nation鈥檚 history.
There had only been one other case (dealing with the Pentagon Papers) in which the U.S. government blocked the publication of information.
I was in the courtroom in Milwaukee, when the judge issued a restraining order against Progressive Magazine, to prevent it from publishing a supposed 鈥渞ecipe for an H-Bomb.鈥�
As it turned out, all of the information in the Progressive article was in the public domain. And besides, other publications ended up publishing that information, anyway. So, the government dropped its objections.
There was another court case I covered in Milwaukee that caused raised eyebrows (at least my eyebrows).
A judge was tasked to determine if strippers at a strip club were engaged in obscene behavior.
To make his determination, he had a stripper strip (and with cameras rolling) in his courtroom.
The judge ruled that what the stripper had been doing wasn鈥檛 obscene.
Case dismissed.
Edward A. Owens is a multi-Emmy Award winner, former reporter, and anchor for Entertainment Tonight, and 40-year TV news and newspaper veteran. E-mail him at freedoms@bellatlantic.net.