On Monday night, Oct. 22, 1962, a little-known 26-year-old musician-turned-stand-up comedian stepped onto a stage before a live audience in a New York recording studio. When he exited, he had made entertainment history. And the impact of what he did that night 58 years ago remains with us today.
Vaughn Meader was born in Maine and raised in Boston. After serving a hitch in the Army, he bounced around Big Apple nightclubs playing the piano and singing. He gradually threw in humorous bits, including impressions of famous singers. When Massachusetts’s John F. Kennedy ran for, and was narrowly elected, president in 1960, Meader began impersonating him. His New England roots helped him imitate Kennedy’s Harvard accent. He combed his hair to match Kennedy’s style and captured the new president’s trademark finger-jabbing gesture and facial expressions.
This was something brand new in 1961. Sure, folks had told jokes about the chief executive ever since George Washington’s day. But entertainers had rarely imitated the country’s leader. Audiences loved it. And record producer Earle Doud knew a good thing when he heard one.
Comedy record albums were big sellers back then. The three TV networks’ programming was safely boring. Cutting-edge comedians with popular club acts put their routines on vinyl albums, which people then shared at parties. Doud came up with an album called The First Family, with Meader doing Kennedy’s voice and actors playing other Kennedy family members.
By today’s “anything goes” standards, it was tame stuff. The material was nonpartisan and personality-oriented, gently (almost lovingly, in fact) poking fun at Kennedy’s public image. It’s still funny nearly six decades later (listen to it on YouTube). For example, one bit hilariously spoofs a press conference, except with Kennedy family members asking the president questions during dinnertime.
As word got out that the album would be released in time for Christmas sales, there were some nervous moments among Cadence Records executives. Former Dwight Eisenhower press secretary Jim Hagerty blasted the concept, calling it “degrading to the presidency.” Would everyday people find it funny?
They did. The First Family was an instant hit, selling more than 1 million copies in its first two weeks — the fastest-selling record until the Beatles eclipsed it a year later. Sales had jumped to 7 million by January 1963. It even earned the Grammy for best album of the year. The First Family Volume #2 was released that spring and was also very successful.
By most accounts, Kennedy was more amused by the album than not. Asked about it at an actual presidential news conference, he said, “I thought it sounded more like Teddy,” meaning his younger brother, Sen. Edward Kennedy. He reportedly greeted a group of Democratic National Committeemen by saying, “Vaughn Meader was busy tonight, so I came myself.”
Meader was suddenly rich and famous. He was the toast of the town and loved every minute of his newfound fame. For 12 months, he was on top of the world.
Until one Friday in November 1963.
As Meader hopped into a cab that afternoon, the driver recognized him and asked, “Have you heard about Kennedy?” Because people often shared the latest jokes with him, Meader eagerly replied, “No, what did he say?” The driver switched on the radio, which was reporting on the shooting in Dallas.
More than the president was taken that day. Although small in comparison, Vaughn Meader’s career was gone in an instant, too. It was considered bad taste to laugh, even respectfully, at the fallen leader. The album was immediately pulled from the radio airwaves and record stores.
Meader’s life took a nosedive. Two subsequent non-Kennedy albums flopped. Hardly anyone booked him for appearances because he was just too closely connected to Kennedy. Alcoholism, drug addiction, and divorce followed. Meader eventually clawed out of his depression. He had a cameo role in Rich Little’s 1981 album The First Family Rides Again, which parodied Ronald Reagan. He passed away in 2004.
Meader’s legacy is alive and well today. Saturday Night Live practically feeds off satirizing President Trump. It was made possible because The First Family paved the way.
One final bit of irony about the trailblazing album: While it was being recorded that Monday night in October 1962, the real Kennedy was giving a live address announcing the Cuban missile crisis. “If the audience had heard the speech,” Meader later recalled, “we would not have received the reaction we did.”
Timing, they say, is everything.
J. Mark Powell (@JMarkPowell) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner’s Beltway Confidential blog. He’s vice president of communications at Ivory Tusk Consulting, a South Carolina-based agency. A former broadcast journalist and government communicator, his “Holy Cow! History” column is available at jmarkpowell.com.
