Read an Excerpt
Taking nothing away from such Cleveland media icons as "Dorothy," "Barnaby," or "Ghoulardi," "Dick" is simply the most beloved personality in the history of Cleveland broadcasting. Dick Goddard has gone from being Northeast Ohio's favorite uncle to its cherished grandfather. In short, Dick Goddard is the man—a title he sometimes wears uncomfortably and with great humility. Still very much a country boy from Green, Dick combines an innate love of animals and compassion for those less fortunate with a devilish sense of humor reminiscent of Peck's Bad Boy or Eddie Haskell, whose pranks always get everyone else in trouble while leaving him unscathed.
No one would know that better than I do. For three decades I was privileged to have a front-row seat to both the public and private lives of the grand poobah of Cleveland weather. You could say I was either privileged or hilariously victimized by such proximity to the man I still address affectionately as "Goddard"—to which he always replies, "Whatard?"
The king of the Woollybear Festival doesn't just enjoy the chaos that normally accompanies a live television newscast, he revels in it. In fact, the more chaos he can create during the most serious moments of a news broadcast, the more rewarding his day. Many of Dick's most incredible antics both professionally and socially are alone worth the price of this book.
But he also had an uncanny knack of getting himself in trouble on the air, often describing his many on-camera predicaments as talking himself into a verbal cul de sac. Sometimes it went far beyond a simple stumble. Only weeks before I retired at the end of 2005, Dick unwittingly provided me with a going-away gift that just keeps on giving because it now tops my very long list of Goddard stories.
As fall turned to winter, Dick lamented to his faithful viewers that he always feared the dreaded spoonerism at the approach of each new winter, when he'd be faced with saying "cold air mass" several hundred times for the next few months. Only this time, what he was thinking overrode his tongue, and he actually uttered what he was always afraid of saying, which was "cold mare's ass." For a moment there was nothing but shocked silence, followed by Goddard confirming what we all thought we had heard. "Oh my God . . . I said it!" Howls of laughter filled the studio and much of the Fox 8 building. But as you're about to read, this was only the latest reason that Dick's forecasts have always been must-watch television.
Dick's love and dedication to animals has been well documented. But his innate goodness and generosity also extends to people. Over the years it sometimes has made him a target, but again, not without humor. Such as the time Dick, Robin, and I were about to enter our favorite take-out eatery and a man approached with his young son, instinctively looking to Dick for the money they needed to buy dinner. Dick generously offered to take them inside with us and buy them dinner. The man never blinked when he responded that he'd rather have the money because they wanted to go Chinese.
Dick's propensity for investing in questionable schemes and businesses is also legendary. Dragging his close friends along with him has also cost me a few bucks over the years, causing some colleagues to suggest that our investing mission statement might easily be buy high, sell low.
To be fair, Goddard's friendship did change my personal fortunes when he hooked me up with his high-powered agent, the late Ed Keating. The big Irishman had already made his bones in the rough-and-tumble world of negotiating with the billionaire owners of football and baseball teams. Keating, in fact, successfully pulled off the first tandem contract in NFL history, involving running backs Larry Csonka and Jim Kiick of the Miami Dolphins. And on the wall behind Keating's desk hung a blown-up multimillion dollar check he negotiated for Hall of Fame reliever Dennis Eckersley.
I tell you this because, for all of Keating's celebrated negotiating savvy, he could never quite figure out how to control Dick's appetite for, shall we say, interesting investments. Keating would call in a state of exasperation and panic, asking how we ever got involved in "another hare-brained scheme" that always reminded him of Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton.
As you're about to learn, Dick Goddard is appropriately as unpredictable and uncontrollable as Cleveland's weather. And that's why contributing to a book about his fascinating life was irresistible. I think you'll agree that Dick Goddard was, is, and always will be Cleveland's own, one-of-a-kind, exalted Cleveland weather guru—and, oh, so much more. Enjoy the stories!
[Excerpted from Six Inches of Partly Cloudy, © Dick Goddard. All rights reserved. Gray & Company, Publishers.]
