When I was a kid, my dad used to take us boys down to the city dump. I remember secret looking for the clown that lived there, the one that I saw on TV.
Of course, I could never find him. I looked high and low for the shack he lived in, but never found it. I guessed that we were at the wrong city dump. Still, every time my dad went there, I would tag along, just in case.
Lucky for me though, I could see JP Patches every morning and afternoon on my TV, welcoming him into my living room for madcap fun, cartoons and a lot of hijinks.
JP in front of his ICU2 TV. I see he's wearing a Seafair Pirate pin (lowest on left).
If you aren’t from the Seattle area, you may not know who Julius Pierpont Patches, or JP, was. But you may have been lucky enough to grow up in a town where there was a local TV show just for kids.
In Seattle, that meant Brakeman Bill, Stan Boreson, Captain Puget and, of course, JP.
I loved Captain Puget’s stories and Stan Boreson’s whacky numbers, but for me, it was always JP Patches.
I think it’s because you just never knew what was going to go on during the show. Turns out JP and his cast didn’t know either. There’s a famous story where he did a Kool Aid commercial. When he took a drink, he spat it out. Unknown to him, his director had spiked it with vodka.
I have to admit though, I was something of a Boris Buddy. I loved Bob Newman’s characters, from JP’s somewhat homely girlfriend Gertrude and Ketchikan the Animal Man to yes, Boris S. Wart, the second meanest man in the world.
In the early days, you could wake up to JP and then see him again when you got home from school. Two shows a day. He was a buddy to us kids and it’s estimated that at the height of his show, more than 100,000 people tuned in. Remember, this was back in the day when you only got five channels, six if you were lucky.
Each morning, JP would sit down at the ICU2-TV. As a kid, I really believed that he could tune into people’s homes and wish kids a happy birthday. It was magic to me.
I remember always getting dressed for school before I turned on the TV. I never wanted JP to tune into my home and find me in my underwear. I could just hear him, “And I would like to wish little Robbie a happy birthday, oops, he’s still in his birthday suit.”
I used to see JP on the parade circuit once I got to be a Seafair Pirate. He was just as hilarious in person – always “on.” I think that’s where I learned to do the same when I’m in costume.
I confess that I don’t like clowns. Never have. I didn’t even like them as a kid. When they would try to give me a balloon I would just run for my mom, crying. And Tim Curry as Pennywise the clown in It didn’t do much to change my opinion of clowns. But JP was different. You could tell that behind that makeup was a guy who was kind hearted and very smart man, always coming up with something funny to say or do.
One of the great things about growing up in that time was the fact that we were all tied together by JP. It didn’t matter if you were the school bully or the bashful dweeb. We all got up extra early in the morning and scampered home as fast as we could each afternoon so that we didn’t miss a minute of JP.
Long ago, I was asked if I wanted to be rich or remembered. I doubt JP was rich, well not in the traditional sense. But after being part of this community for the last 54 years, I can safely say that he will be forever remembered.
Even when we Patches Pals have joined him in the big City Dump in the sky, future generations will have the chance to enjoy his whacky sense of humor. Thankfully, there’s YouTube to let my children know the guy that helped raise me and taught me to be a good citizen. He didn’t have to admonish me or belittle me. He was one of us and you wanted to be just like him: kind, thoughtful, respectful and a good citizen.
For those of you who don’t know, JP wasn’t just a morning and afternoon fixture on TV. He appeared tirelessly at appearances throughout the community throughout those 54 years, from the Children’s Hospital and annual Variety Club telethons to smaller gigs that never drew a camera or a reporter. JP loved the Pacific Northwest and gave something back to all of us a little, no, a lot of himself.
I suppose it would have been easy for him to head off into the sunset of retirement. He was sick for many years. Still, he wouldn’t let his illness stop him from entertaining his Patches Pals.
Several months ago, I wrote that I didn’t have any regrets. Well, I have one. I was visiting Seattle during his last appearance at the Fisherman’s Fall Festival. He was just as funny as ever, even though you can tell he wasn’t feeling great that day. Still, he gave it his all because that’s what his audience wanted.
JP is gone now, but he is still an inspiration to me. Someone who cared more about the community – and the people who loved him – than he did about himself.
I will miss you JP. But hopefully you’re already looking down on us through your ICU2 TV, checking in on us all, knowing that you touched so many lives through your warmth, humor, caring and passion. We are all better people for knowing you. Thanks for the laughs, but most of all, thanks for the lessons you taught us all.
In the Emerald City, wondering who’s going to feed Gorst the ferpl,
– Robb