And Now You Know ... He's Dead

He had a face for radio and the political compass of the Inquisition. Born to a long line of Baptist preachers, he became the biggest snake oil salesmen of them all. Although known as a full-bore right wing nut, he broke with Nixon on Cambodia and (so he claimed) Joe McCarthy on some minor point or another.

His father was murdered by a gang of highwaymen, in 1921. He himself was arrested by federal police in 1951 -- for inexplicably trying to break into Argonne National Laboratory, a federal atomic research facility in Illinois.

But that wasn't the end for this weird American. His radio show and segments would be heard nationwide for another six decades. His name was ... Paul Harvey. And now you know ... he's dead.

The legendary American broadcaster died early Saturday at his winter home in Phoenix. He was 90 years old.

Paul Harvey's dad really was a Baptist preacher who really was murdered by a gang of thugs when Paul was just three years old. And Paul Harvey really was arrested for trying to break into a nuke lab -- he supposedly did it as a radio stunt, to show how the Commies could get inside Illinois federal facilities or something.

Harvey started his radio career in Oklahoma and began working for ABC in Chicago, in 1944. With the help of his producer and wife, Lynne Harvey, he became a national broadcaster eventually heard on more than 1,200 stations.

The best thing about Paul Harvey -- humble old Paul Harvey with his solid family life and one (just one!) wife who was with him until her death in 2007 -- is that his peak audience was millions bigger than Rush Limbaugh's largest audience.

Fat sex-creep Rush peaked with 20 million listeners in 2003 (all downhill since then!), while Paul Harvey peaked with 22 million. And while Paul Harvey was long mocked by hipsters and comedians, he sure wasn't hated. In fact, Paul Harvey was one of the most admired people in America for half a century.

Rush Limbaugh is despised by most Americans, while his only fans are mouth-breathing angry losers.

So, farewell, Paul Harvey. Farewell to your odd little stories, outrageously twisted wingnut version of current events, and the commercials you wove so seamlessly into your "news" that the old and feeble-minded could never really tell if those mattresses and mail-order radio sets were part of the day's headlines or not.

Ken Layne is executive director of the Radio Legends Museum of North America. He transcribes old news broadcasts for Wonkette, the history monograph.