If you’ve never had the opportunity to see McFerrin live, get out there and check him out. There’s nobody out there like him. His vocal gymnastics are just amazing. McFerrin is all over Europe in June
Meanwhile, check out the USA TODAY #TalkingYourTech interview, below.

By the way, my next appearances:
5/18: Julia Dean Photo Workshops in Los Angeles
6/30: Creative Photo Academy, Torrance, CA

Jerry grew up in Indiana, played sports most afternoons and weekends and married his childhood sweetheart, Judy. They wed in 1955, while Jerry was at Indiana University in Bloomington, and I was born in 1956, when my mom was just 19.

(Jerry and Judy in Indiana.)
We moved to New York City in the early 1960s, and they lived the glam life shown on “Mad Men.” His station, WNEW, was the soundtrack of all that was great about the city–Frank and Dean, Steve and Edyie, William B. Williams and the “Make Believe Ballroom.” As children, we grew up on the great comedies from the Marx Bros. W.C. Fields and Buster Keaton, and we would watch them together on TV and at local revival houses. The Thalia. The New Yorker. The Bleeker St. Cinema.
We ate a lot of chocolate and ice cream. We both had our eagle eyes set on the dinner plate to see if younger brother Jimmy had a moment where he would take his hand away–who would be first to grab the leftovers? Growing up in the 1960s, we listened to lots of show tunes and sang them together (“Trouble” from “The Music Man” was one of his specialties–he knew all the words by heart) until the rock era came in, and his sons grooved to Jimi Hendrix (“noise,” he called it at first) Elton John and the Allman Brothers. He started to grow his hair–like the gang on “Mad Men,” and get with the rock and roll. Eventually, he started a rock station in Pittsfield, Mass., WGRG, where he served as station manager, newsman (he did daily commentaries) and DJ (he did a weekend music show.) I worked at the station in my late teens, primarily in advertising sales, and also wrote and produced commercials and did a weekend DJ stint.
WGRG was the first news outlet to call for Richard Nixon’s resignation for Watergate. His little tiny station in the Berkshires won a Sigma Delta Chi award for outstanding editorial work.

(Jerry and parents Lilian and Dave Granowsky, circa 1977, in Tiburon, Ca.)

The times–drugs, sex, politics, etc., took their toll on my parents, and they split up when he got the offer to leave Pittsfield for a new life in San Francisco at KSAN.

(At KSAN with the one and only Mel Brooks)
It was in San Francisco where he eventually met Catherine. After his second TV career came to an end, they moved to start anew in Santa Cruz, where Catherine had attended UC. They were married for 27 years and pillars of the Santa Cruz community. He loved being a father the second time around with Lily. Jerry and Catherine appeared to be very happy. As she noted to me this week: “I’ve lost the love of my life.”

Jerry Graham wasn’t perfect. He could be prickly and selfish. If I had a request, it could be met–or not. There were lots of disappointments.
Being Jerry Graham’s son wasn’t easy. Being Jerry Graham’s son who happened to be the spitting image of (22 years younger) Jerry Graham made it harder. Let’s face it–Frank Sinatra, Jr. didn’t look like ol’ Blue Eyes. Chris Wallace didn’t totally resemble Mike.
I’d walk into a restaurant and people would call me “Jerry.” (Ok, one person, cousin Adele–but you get the point.)
He lived the Paul Anka song. He lived life his way, on his terms.

(With Chicolini and Catherine, in Santa Cruz, 2011.)

(Our only time professionally together on camera, from 2008, in Jerry’s office)

At home in Santa Cruz, this is what he loved to do:
Program his Dish Network DVR and watch stuff. I think he enjoyed the process of going through the guide to compile programs even more than he liked to watch.
He taped old movies, the evening news, interesting cable TV shows (Daily Show, Colbert, Louis CK) a lot of basketball games–with the playoffs on now, he was in heaven.
He brought Chicolini out to the dog park once a day, and for a walk in the neighborhood.
He’d read the paper in the morning, go to the gym, eat lunch, take a nap, read magazines and books, walk the dog, and start preparing dinner. Then it was a night of shared TV with Catherine. In the Sentinel obit, she noted that he liked to sing her a different song every morning. This one I never knew, but shows again about the angel–this was one happy dude.

The Last Weekend
We had two great trips in 2012. He came to L.A. to attend the launch party in July for my then new book, and then traveled to NY to visit me and daughter Lily (a student at Columbia University) when I appeared at Photo Plus. It was quite a week that just happened to coincide with Hurricane Sandy. I was touched he made the second trip–and that he went out of his way to do it on my schedule, when I was going to be there. It was out of character.
For some reason, I had decided that I had to go to Santa Cruz this weekend and spend last weekend for a visit. I couldn’t be there for the birthday, so I’d celebrate on the weekend. It had been six months, and 79 was getting closer to 80, so you just never know.
I left Friday morning, arrived at 5, and we went out to pick up the fabulous chocolate ice cream birthday cake from Cold Stone Creamery on Pacific Street. Who knew it would be his last?

The next morning, he told me he hadn’t slept well, but that didn’t stop him from taking a vigorous 90 minute walk through the Chaminade resort trails in Santa Cruz. We followed up with lunch–he had a Tri-Tip sandwich, and then he returned home for a nap. I left, returned back 2 hours later, and set up my video camera for oral history. This was something he had always resisted doing before–though he had allowed me to do it once in 2008, but this time he was surprisingly easy. “Are you sure we shouldn’t do it tomorrow?” he did say. “My voice isn’t 100%.”
He had taken a drink the day before that didn’t agree with him.

(The 5 Granowskys in Indiana, late 1930s. That’s Jerry in front.)

I said no, let’s do it now. I asked him questions about growing up in Indiana, the family dynamic, listening to radio in the living room, going to movies for 10 cents every weekend and his early days in live local TV. It was quite a life, from another era, and I was always eager to soak up as much of it as I could. I was surprised that in this interview, he told me several things I had never heard him say before, which again proves why it’s so important for us to record our family histories. Direct conversations produce much more info, which in my case, is now so priceless. Look at it both ways–I only have two hours of memories. But I have two hours of memories!
We had dinner–he made salad and chicken, and we watched TV–a really awful edition of NBC’s Smash, easily the worst ever, which he commented on. Afterwards, Catherine went upstairs to bed, and he watched quick takes on the basketball playoffs.
Then, from the couch, he started complaining that he was getting light-headed and “fainting,” but nothing to be concerned of.
I asked if he wanted help going upstairs to the bedroom. He declined, said he’d be fine.
So I left, and went back to the motel.

The next morning he called–”Dr. Quackenbush here!” at 8:20 and said he was feeling fine.
I came over, we talked a bit, and he said that since he was about to turn 79, it would be that much closer to 80, so a few things I should know.
He didn’t want a funeral. He wanted to be cremated. If he should get sick and needed to be resuscitated, he didn’t want to be.
“Not that I’m going anywhere,” he said. “I plan on being around another 15-20 years.”
I figured a good 10 at least. My dad was superman. Basketball, tennis, daily gym, vigorous walks–how could he not live to at least 90? His dad made it to 86, and he ate terrible food and got no exercise.
Jerry did say he’d had two “fainting” spells–including one at the gym, where the medics arrived to bring him to the hospital, but he refused to go. He didn’t want to be opened up and had one of those instances where you walk in, but never walk out.
He had seen his heart specialist, and always checked out. “Perhaps we need to change the meds,” he said.
I thought all the end of life talk was morbid, and tried to think nothing of it. I said goodbye, and that I would be back on June 10th–Apple Developer Conference around the corner!–and left to make the long drive home.
I sent him an e-mail on Monday, and he wrote back at 1 p.m.

Screen grab from last interview. 4 p.m. Saturday. He would be dead 48 hours later.

Jerry Graham, the former host of KRON’s Bay Area Backroads, author of three best-selling travel books and general manager of KSAN, the now defunct historic San Francisco radio station, died suddenly Monday at his home in Santa Cruz.
The cause of death was a heart attack.
Graham is survived by second wife Catherine, daughter Lily, 22, and sons from his first marriage, Jefferson, 56 and Jez, 54.
Basketball was one of his biggest passions–he played every Sunday in Santa Cruz, and was most recently on the court on April 14. He also played tennis twice a week at Chaminade. He was a fixture at local dog parks with Chicolini.
Bay Area Backroads began in 1985 on KRON-TV as a segment on the “TGI4” show. Graham and camera operator Jeff Pierce went to Marin County looking for an interesting story, and met a man with a Tiki who carved tiki statues in front of his yard. Reaction to the piece was strong, and eventually the station expanded Backroads to its own show.

(BAY AREA BACKROADS)

“We quickly saw that it was endless,” Graham told the Chronicle in 2008, when KRON stopped production on Backroads after 28 years. “The concept was that we live in this great spot, but we’re all in such a hurry, that we drive by things without looking and don’t even notice what’s around us.”

(KRON NEWS)
In addition to Backroads
, Graham also anchored weekend news for KRON. Previously, he worked for KPIX–Channel 5 hosting the “Pacific Currents,” show and co-hosted the syndicated “Taking Advantage” for Paramount Television.

Graham, born as Gerald Granowsky in Indianapolis, Indiana on April 30, 1934, grew up in Indianapolis and attended Indiana University, getting a B.A. in Radio-TV production.

With a goal of a broadcasting career, he began as a staff announcer for TV stations in Evansville, Indiana and Binghamton, New York in 1956, reading ads live (this pre-dates the era of taped commercials) hosting call-in talk shows and in Binghamton, serving as a TV weatherman and kiddie cartoon host.

He was urged to change his name for professional reasons at the first TV job, WFIE in Evansville, when the station manager said “Granowsky” was too hard to pronounce. The manager offered “Grant,” but Jerry asked for “Graham” instead.

He left WNBF-Binghamton after an on-air laughing attack got him demoted from the weather, and moved to New York City, where he answered a want ad for a radio news writer for Metromedia’s WNEW, then one of the premiere stations in NY.


He rose through the ranks to become news director and then program director. He and colleague Bernie Rutenberg branched out as radio consultants, offering their services to Boston’s WHDH with tips on how to improve the station.
Their Graham/Rutenberg company eventually picked up clients in other cities, and they then bought and ran their own radio station (with silent partner David Gordon), which they dubbed WGRG.

In 1975, he returned to Metromedia as general manager of free-form rock radio station KSAN, replacing Tom Donahue. (The station is now known as 107.7 The Bone.) He left the station eventually, and as a lark, auditioned for a new TV show, Pacific Currents, despite not having hosted TV for 20 years.

With the success of Backroads, which at one time was one of the most popular local TV shows, Graham and wife Catherine wrote three best-selling travel books for Harper & Row.

After he left Backroads in 1995, he retired at age 60 to help raise his daughter, read books and play a weekly game of tennis and basketball. At the Santa Cruz Volunteer Center, he taught English as a Second Language classes.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Volunteer Center.

No funeral services are planned, but a memorial celebration is pending.