In an announcement that shook up Patches Pals everywhere, Gertrude, aka Fabulous Bob Newman, announced his official retirement at an appearance in September of 2002 at the Grays Harbor County Fair in Elma.
He joked that the demands of performing in pantyhose, a Raggedy Ann-style dress, wig and crown had become too much for him.
Newman is reported to have sadly lamented during the announcement of his retirement, "I'm not Seattle's leading cross-dresser anymore."
Once a performer, always a performer, however, and Newman hasn't been resting on his haunches since retirement.
In fact, in December he began taping and airing commercials for Halls Medical Center Pharmacy in Centralia. Newman stepped in owing to the ill health and consequent death of Wayne Cody, Halls' previous spokesman and longtime Seattle sportscaster.
In the commercial he did, Newman highlights Halls' selection of lift chairs, power wheel chairs and scooters, said Parry Albertsen, sales and service manager for that division of Halls Medical Center Pharmacy.
"I firmly believe what we do here is change people's lives every day. I think he (Newman) feels that way, too," said Albertsen.
Halls will be at the Seattle Home Show today through Feb. 23. Newman will be at the company's booth signing autographs and chatting with the crowds Feb. 22 from 4 to 6 p.m.
The home show is at the Seahawks Exhibition Center. Hours are from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. on Saturdays; 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. on Sundays; 10 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. on Monday; 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. on Tuesday through Thursday, and from 11 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. on Friday. Pricing is $9 for adults; $4 for senior citizens (60 or over); $3 for juniors 7 to 15; and free for children under 7.
Tens of thousands of Northwest children, most now over 40, regularly watched the J.P. Patches children's program that made Newman famous (and fabulous). It lasted from 1958 to 1981 and was KIRO television's first live broadcast. At its peak, the show had as many as 100,000 children glued to their sets before going to school in the morning and again in the afternoon.
Over the years, Chris Wedes as J.P. Patches, the show's star, and Newman established a stage banter and a long personal friendship.
Newman was born in Seattle in 1932. He grew up on Mercer Island when the population was less than 200, and when the only access to the island was by ferry.
He attended the University of Washington before joining the U.S. Marine Corps in January of 1953, when he was sent to Korea in a conflict that ended in July of 1953.
"Write those dates down," said Newman, who jokes about how short a time his war experience in Korea lasted.
Newman, 71, started working part-time at KIRO as a weekend film editor in 1960. That's the same year Gertrude was born, and some time after Newman returned from the service, got married and earned a degree in communications for the University of Washington.
"I'm a makeup man and used to run a makeup department," said the man whose job, before becoming Gertrude, was as the floor director for "The J.P. Patches Show."
"I stood beside the camera and would cue him (J.P.) to this camera or that, or to a commercial. There were 42 cues, and I would let J.P. know that a commercial was coming so he could be ready for it," said Newman.
While J.P. moved to the stage Newman had set up for the commercial, Newman would rush to another stage, setting up a skit or another commercial for J.P. there.
"I was a high-priced 'go-fer,' " laughs Newman.
J.P. Patches (Wedes), in a recent telephone interview, said, "Bob's debut as Gertrude was very funny. We had a character that was a telephone operator. Because the show was live, you never knew what was going to happen."
What happened was that the telephone Gertrude used fell to the floor and broke.
"You never saw Gertrude until I went on as her," said Newman, who explains that Gertrude's birth coincides closely with the breakage of that phone.
On that day, Patches called Gertrude the telephone operator (who was a voice off-stage) and said, "Send me down a Coke and ham sandwich for a picnic."
There was a second of silence before Newman, recognizing what had happened, spoke into a nearby microphone and said in a falsetto voice, "OK, Julius, I'll send it right down."
That's when Newman said to J.P. "You know what would be funny? It would be funny if someone came out as Gertrude."
Wedes agreed with Newman that that would be funny, and invited him to play the character.
The day that Gertrude arrived on the sound stage turned out to be a memorable one for Wedes, and for other cast and staff members.
"I had not seen how Bob looked before Gertrude arrived at my (stage) door that first time," said Wedes. "She knocked and I asked, 'Who's there?' When I opened the door, there was Bob dressed in this baggy old dress with two huge balloons for his bust.
"The balloons started drifting south and Bob kept pushing them back up. Once he said, 'Up there, big fellas,' and we thought we would be canceled. After that show, Gertrude remained flat-chested."
Besides Gertrude, Newman also played Ketchican the Animal Man and Boris S. Wort (the second meanest man in the world).
Wedes recalls the time Newman made a personal appearance as Boris S. Wort, known as the man responsible for trying to ruin Christmas, take over the show or just slam J.P. into the door.
During that personal appearance, "All the kids rushed at him (Newman as Boris), and knocked him down and poked at him. It was the first and last personal appearance for Boris," said Wedes.
Ketchican the Animal Man came to life in a similar fashion to Gertrude after Newman said to Wedes, "Hey, this is a kid's show. You have to have animals."
Wedes agreed, as he had in the birth of Gertrude, and invited Newman to play the animal man who became known as Ketchican.
The problem, said Wedes, is that "Bob knows nothing about animals, and was bitten by a seal and scratched by a raccoon."
Newman remembers that raccoon vividly.
He recalls telephoning a local animal shelter and saying, "Hey, we need an animal for today's show."
He was told a very tame raccoon was available, and agreed that it would do just fine. He picked up the animal in a transport box, and put the box in the back seat of his car. Somehow, the raccoon got out of the box and wound up clinging tenaciously to the top of Newman's scalp.
"He dug his claws into my scalp and forehead, and wouldn't let go," Newman recounted. "I was in a school zone and couldn't pull over, and must have looked like a crazy man. I should have rolled the window down and waved to the kids saying, 'Hey, do you like my new hat?' "
He didn't do that, and, as funny as the incident sounds, the raccoon actually left a scar on Newman's forehead.
Newman has all but stopped making personal appearances, lives in Seattle and walks with a cane. He said it was more than 35 years ago that he fell down as he was cueing up some of the cameras for a live performance of his long-ago Emmy-award-winning show.
That's when he learned that he was experiencing the onset of multiple sclerosis, and that the disease was a chronic progressive type that would get a little bit worse every year.
Tired of performing in a dress, he finally felt the need to retire — but he's anything but retiring, and still remains a clown.
Pat Jones covers arts and entertainment and lifestyle stories for The Chronicle. She may be reached by telephoning 807-8226.
