For thousands of Chicagoans of a certain age, one look at his mug will generate an immediate response: “Hey, that’s Ray Rayner!” And they will smile, broadly.
Among all the local television personalities who over the years have sought to entertain the city’s children, Rayner stands out in the most genuine, warm and truly creative way. He was the “Zelig” of performers, engaging with Chicago kids on WGN-Ch. 9 through different shows, different times, different characters and different shticks. During years of turmoil for the city and the country, Rayner’s programs daily radiated joy and positivity. And at a time when they were most needed.
The local institution that was Rayner followed an incongruous path to Chicago and children’s television. He actually hailed from Queens, New York, and attended Fordham University. During World War II, he was a decorated B-17 bomber navigator in the European theater. Ultimately, he was shot down, captured by the Germans and imprisoned in the notorious Stalag Luft III — made famous in the movie “The Great Escape”. Rayner reportedly assisted in escape preparations but was transferred to another prisoner-of-war camp before the breakout occurred. While life as a POW was certainly no “Hogan’s Heroes” environment, it was where Rayner is said to have first developed his entertainment skills, in performing for his fellow prisoners and even his captors.
After the war, Rayner entered radio and television in disparate markets such as Grand Rapids, Michigan; Dayton, Ohio; and even New York, before landing in Chicago, performing youth-oriented features on CBS affiliate WBBM-Ch. 2. In 1961, he moved to WGN, where he locked into a niche of children’s programming that would last almost 20 years and ultimately make him a Chicago television institution.
Rayner’s busy WGN career began with “The Dick Tracy Show,” a daily afternoon show where he played the folksy Sgt. Henry Pettibone, assisted by trusty dog puppet Tracer. He soon also joined the cast of noontime favorite “Bozo’s Circus,” as the Oliver O. Oliver character. In the late 1960s he started another afternoon show, “Rocket to Adventure.” In the role of an astronaut, he featured the quirky adventure cartoons “Gigantor” and “Tobor the Eighth Man.” But his greatest connection with Chicago kids was made through the long-running morning show “Ray Rayner and His Friends”.
Working from Rayner’s boundless enthusiasm, the show evolved into an all-purpose morning program, wrapping news updates, traffic reports and sports highlights around the usual and comforting fare of “Looney Tunes” and “Merrie Melodies” cartoons, and old “Flash Gordon” serials. Peppered in between were unpredictable turtle races, Ark in the Park visits from Lincoln Park Zoo Director Dr. Lester Fisher and Rayner’s bumbling efforts to assemble various arts and crafts projects. Accompanying Rayner through these daily adventures were the irritable duck Chelveston (named after his English bomber base) and the gentle dog puppet Cuddly Dudley.
And, during the Christmas season, his youthful audience wouldn’t leave the house for school until Rayner had opened the particular day’s door on the in-studio Advent calendar.
Yet the real magic of “Ray Rayner and His Friends” was the easy, carefree way in which Rayner engaged with his young viewers. Whether it was his bantering with the off-camera crew, his stumbling efforts to feed Chelveston, his goofy twin-billed baseball hat or his daily habit of pinning to-do notes on his trademark jumpsuit, he was warm and approachable to the kids, yet trustworthy and reliable to their moms and dads listening in during their own morning routine.
But this isn’t a “the good old days, when life was simpler” kind of thing. Because for both Chicago, and the nation, they were neither. Rayner’s shows played out against a constant, dark backdrop of war, racial conflict and seismic social change. His show didn’t solve any of that. But every day, his programs provided a safe space from it all. And his many local Emmy Awards reflected that.
Upon retirement, he moved to New Mexico, where he continued to perform on television and stage. He was always moving, always engaging, always entertaining and forever indefatigable.
If viewed strictly by society’s often harsh measuring stick, Rayner might come up short. He never built buildings, developed technologies or cured diseases. All he did was entertain, from a German POW camp to a TV studio on West Bradley Place. And legions of Chicago youngsters benefited so greatly from it.
Which brings us back to the holiday season. To paraphrase some Henry Mancini lyrics, it’s a time when we pause to reflect upon the good things. And we think about those people who’ve meant so much to us and for so many years have made us so very happy. And we count the times we’ve forgotten to say thank you.
Thank you, Ray Rayner.
Editor’s note: An earlier version displayed a photo caption that misidentified the show on which Ray Rayner last appeared. The Tribune regrets the error.
Michael Peregrine is a Chicago attorney. He still pins to-do notes to his shirt.
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