The news of Huell Howser’s passing this week came as a sad shock, an unexpected and abrupt end to a life that had given us so much over the last few years. From the moment we moved here, I began recording every one of his many PBS travel and history shows and watching them religiously, taking notes for future trips around the state.
We took a Huell-themed weekend east of L.A. back in 2007, and I posted about one of his more memorable episodes in 2008. We went to his favorite restaurant to celebrate his birthday in 2008, as well, and visited the Nethercutt Museum in 2010, thanks to his tours of the place. Half of the destinations on our 2012 family road trip around the state were Huell recommendations, and he never failed us. Our horizons were broadened and our understanding of the area was deepened thanks to his shows. Everywhere we went, we were reminded of something he’d told us about, in Griffith Park, Hollywood, Santa Barbara, and elsewhere.
I always enjoyed watching his shows for him, but also to see how those whom he encountered interacted with him. The excruciatingly long handshake was always a part of the fun, as was the charming way he talked to old ladies and shy kids alike. Huell’s shows were filled with amazing spontaneous moments, like the one where he shows up to a town and no one’s there, or he goes into a restaurant and you can see and hear the guy behind the counter, who doesn’t know who Huell is, trying to describe him to his manager on the phone, who doesn’t sound like he wants to come and meet this guy.
From prison toilets to the sausage factory, from the birthplace of the Zamboni to the geographic center of California, he saw it all. Less remarked on than his folksy charm and his constant awe, I think, were the subtle ways he deflected praise from those who would encounter him while he was shooting and try to tell them how much they loved him. I also appreciated the work he would do, without saying a word, to get the subject in the right part of the frame, facing the camera, and talking into the mic. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. I’m glad his shows will be in rerun for the foreseeable future, as they have been in the past, and I’m glad to know they’re all available, some even online, at Chapman University’s Huell Howser Archive.
Though I never met him, I was lucky enough to see him in action once, while he was shooting a segment at the Los Angeles Theater (at the bottom of the photo below). It would have been nice to shake his hand, but I feel like the Huell on TV was no different than the Huell in person: he was always the genuine article. He will be missed.
