Eulogy for Nebraska network’s founder, Jack McBride
‘We didn’t ever want to let Jack down’
Ron Hull, longtime program chief for Nebraska ETV, gave this eulogy for his friend and former boss, state network founder Jack McBride, in a memorial service Aug. 1, 2008, at First Presbyterian Church, Lincoln, Neb. McBride died July 28 as a result of complications from lung surgery.
Jack McBride invited me to interview for a Producer/Director position at KUON-TV in early September 1955. He picked me up at the Cornhusker Hotel and I expected to be driven to the station, the studio. Instead we parked on campus and walked into a room in Stout Hall where there were three people—the entire staff of KUON-TV. When I asked, he said, “Oh, there are no studios, or microphones or cameras—yet.” For the first three years we shared the studios of KOLN-TV.
He took me out to dinner at Tony and Luigi’s (first time in Nebraska) and again I was nonplussed as I saw everyone reaching under the tables and pouring their drinks. This seemed strange, but he explained that Nebraska was a dry state. It was during that evening that this serious, energetic, Jack Lemmon look-alike outlined his plans for bringing educational television to the state of Nebraska. During this conversation, I remember thinking, “This is a star I could hitch my wagon to.” I’ve been forever grateful.
We are all aware of the significant work in public media that Jack has accomplished here in Nebraska, in our nation, and in many countries of the world. Let me tell you about Jack McBride, as I knew him as my boss, my colleague and my lifelong friend.
Jack had a steel blue mind and he brought to that intelligence unswerving honesty and an unstinting work ethic. I have worked with many accomplished people, but no one could match Jack McBride for the amount of work he could get done in eight hours.
He is a true Nebraska son embodying Midwestern values, and he dedicated his professional life to enhancing the lives of every Nebraskan through educational television.
He set a standard, a high standard, of personal and professional demeanor, which inspired all of us. We worked hard for him because he engendered our respect, and, as one staff member said to me yesterday, “We didn’t ever want to let Jack down.”
Jack had an unerring moral compass. He knew right from wrong. His infallible integrity permeated our organization and all of his business dealings. The key leaders in American public broadcasting trusted Jack’s judgment. If he was uncomfortable about something, they knew they should be uncomfortable, too. And when he supported an idea, they knew it was built on a solid foundation and they should support that too. He knew the direction to go in. He had enormous influence over the early shaping of the national public television service. He was all of these things, but not to be forgotten, and importantly, working with him was simply fun.
Did I forget to mention courage?
One day an irate state senator, Terry Carpenter, called me. I was in charge of programming, and he ordered me to have our remote truck in Omaha on the upcoming Thursday, for he wanted to conduct a public hearing statewide. Terry Carpenter was a powerful man, and I wanted to accede to his wishes because I knew whatever he was doing would mean big audiences for us across the state.
I looked at the schedule and realized that I had promised the theater department that we would televise the first act of Julius Caesar from the sculpture garden of Sheldon Art Gallery. I explained this. We had been working with the students for three weeks, and I couldn’t disappoint them. The senator said, “You’ll be sorry,” and hung up. I went in to Jack and said, “You may want to fire me or call the senator, but this is what happened.”
Jack said, “He is a powerful man, but our editorial independence is key to our success. We represent the licensee, the University of Nebraska, and we call the shots.” As always, he gave the firm, steady support I needed.
On New Year’s Day, 1976, our entire staff was stunned and not a little upset when we discovered that the mighty NBC Television Network introduced its new corporate logo during the broadcast of the Rose Bowl Parade. There it was, our logo, and they had taken it.
Soon the world discovered (literally) that Goliath (NBC) had spent $3 million developing their logo, while David (us) had spent $35 developing ours, and they didn’t own it. We did. We had established its use in all 50 states, and we were a TV network, too.
From the outset of that controversy, Jack set the tone by saying that every move we made should make NBC look good as well as ourselves. He negotiated a settlement with a value of more than $750,000. In this and in all his dealings, Jack was a gentleman, always courteous, always thoughtful, and he almost always prevailed.
And there were other dimensions of Jack’s life of which you may not be aware. Jack loved the theater, he knew theater, and early in his young adult life he even considered being a professional actor. He was, I am told, extremely affecting playing Lachie, the taciturn, shy, young Scottish soldier in John Patrick’s The Hasty Heart, presented in summer stock in Minnesota. Here in Lincoln he directed the future Tony- and Academy Award-winning actress Sandy Dennis in N. Richard Nash’s play The Rainmaker.
He was an avid tennis player and took his tennis rackets with him to many of the national public television meetings.
And through these past 54 years, since he created the Nebraska Network, helped shape the national Public Broadcasting Service throughout America, was the consultant of record in this country and in many countries abroad, Jack has had a strong and resourceful partner, his wife Jean. Jean McBride has a finely honed sense of humor and uplifting spirit. I once said to Jack, “You know, when Jean laughs, it just makes me feel good.” He nodded in agreement and said, “I know what you mean.” Their son David and daughter Julie are carrying forward the McBride family values in the same classy manner of their Dad.
When Jack retired in 1996, one of our esteemed producers, Marshall Jamison, wrote a poem in honor of that occasion, and I want to read a few lines from this work:
So now we salute this extraordinary man
who followed his ambitious, daring plan,
which he held always in his sights
to reach improbable, impossible heights.When asked how he fashioned this fantastic scene,
he replied, with a grin, just ask my wife, Jean!
She, with an answering smile, replied with this rhyme:
Jack, on his climb, always, always took two stairs
At a time!So now you may know how to measure his worth,
to realize the value of his life here on Earth.Perhaps in the view of history’s eyes, he’ll be judged
by more analytical, pontifical guys,
but they’ll have to admit, without equivocation,
Jack McBride is a credit to the University,
The State and the Nation!
So I say to Jack: you pointed the way for us all of these years. Thank you. We are grateful for your life.
Photo courtesy of NET.
Web page posted Aug. 8, 2008
Copyright 2008 by Current LLC
