Don Knotts, R.I.P.

There's a group I may have mentioned here called Yarmy's Army — a social club for veteran comedians and actors that convenes once a month. I have been privileged to be an invited guest for several of their meetings and at almost every one, I found myself seated next to Don Knotts.

It's tough to get a word in edgewise in a roomful of comedians and I sure didn't try. At one meeting, I recall sitting there as Pat Harrington, Tom Poston, Shelley Berman, Howie Morris, Chuck McCann, Gary Owens, Pat McCormick, Harvey Korman, Jack Riley, Jerry Van Dyke and about a dozen other funny men swapped anecdotes and insults at a pace that made the Daytona 500 seem lethargic. People talked over one another, interrupted one another, topped one another and kept the conversation relentless for about two hours.

Of all the members, only one hardly said a thing. Don just sat there and enjoyed the show.

Which is not to say he remained absolutely silent. At one point in each meeting I attended — and I'm told this was typical — Don would think of something he wanted to say. He'd raise a finger, gesturing to indicate this and someone would notice and yell, "Hold it! Don wants to say something!" Suddenly, miraculously, everyone else would shut up and let him say his one thing, which would always get the loudest laugh of the night.

They wouldn't shut up for anyone else. But they shut up for Don.

Because they loved him. Everyone loved him. In a business where even your best friend can have some small resentment at your success, Don was utterly undespised. No one didn't like him, either as a performer or as a person.

When Yarmy's Army did benefits, as it has done for many worthy causes, many of its members would get up and perform. Don was not up to performing much. He hasn't been well for many years and — I don't know how many people know this about him — his eyes have been bad for quite some time. When he has acted in the last decade or two, someone has had to read the script to him and help him memorize and prompt him when he couldn't. That's how we did it when we had him as a guest on the Garfield cartoon show. I had another actor read each line to him and then Don would repeat the line, giving it that wonderful Don Knotts inflection.

So Don couldn't perform at these benefits but he could sure do his part to raise money. After the performance, it would be arranged to have him just sit in the lobby. There'd be a photographer, and you could have your picture taken with Don Knotts for ten or twenty dollars. I don't recall what they charged but there was always a line around the block. When he showed up at those Hollywood Collectors Shows, it was the same way. The line of people who wanted a picture or wanted an autograph — or just wanted to be able to say "I met Barney Fife" — was out the door and well into the parking lot.

I don't have to review his career and his many awards for you. There are many fine obits up, including this one over at the Los Angeles Times site, where you may have to register. I also don't have to tell you how good he was because you've seen The Andy Griffith Show and Three's Company and The Incredible Mr. Limpet and all those appearances with Steve Allen. I just wanted to get on here and tell you that the most beloved person in all of show business has died. Because that's what he was: The most beloved person in all of show business.