When Scot Aubuchon introduces himself, he does it with a wink toward history.
“My name’s Aubuchon — A-U-B-U-C-H-O-N. It’s French and loosely translates to ‘the cork,’ so I guess I had winemakers in my past somewhere,” he told me.
I laughed and offered my own: “Heckmann in old German means the guy that trims the hedges. Back in the old days, hedges were the fences in much of Germany. So here we are — a cork guy talking to a hedge trimmer.”
That lighthearted exchange set the tone for a conversation that traced the improbable journey of six fiberglass frogs — Bob “Daddy-O” Wade’s Tango Frogs — from a Dallas rooftop to truck stops, patios, and finally back home again under Aubuchon’s watch.
From Busboy to Decor Manager
Aubuchon joined Chuy’s in 1986, just a few years after Mike Young and John Zapp opened the original restaurant on Barton Springs in Austin.
“I opened the second Chuy’s up on North Lamar,” he recalled. “I started off bussing tables and just kind of worked my way up. Been around ever since. I know where a lot of the bodies are buried, so to speak.”
Decades later, he became Chuy’s decor manager — the man responsible for bringing the chain’s quirky visual identity to life in new locations. “Basically I worked with development on the construction side. New openings, new designs, all that,” he said.
It was in that role that he inherited an unusual side job: caretaker of Wade’s giant frogs.
The Frogs on the Move
Wade’s Tango Frogs first captured imaginations in the early ’80s, perched on the roof of Shannon Wynne’s Dallas nightclub Tango. When city officials debated whether they were art or signage, the frogs became local legends. Eventually, Mike Young bought them and brought them into the Chuy’s family.
That began a decades-long game of musical chairs, with Aubuchon as the reluctant frog wrangler.
“I’ve basically been a frog herder for 20 years,” he laughed. “I’ve moved these things six times now.”
This list is Scot’s road trip with the Frogs:
From Houston’s “Crystal Palace” Chuy’s on Richmond, where they lived behind the bar,
To the Shenandoah Chuy’s building,
Then back to Austin for refurbishing,
Off to Nashville, where they topped the downtown location around 2012,
Returned to Austin once again for another refresh,
And finally, trucked back up I-35 for their homecoming at Chuy’s on Greenville in Dallas.
On that last trip, Aubuchon couldn’t resist turning it into a rolling spectacle. “We put them on a flatbed truck and toured 35 a little bit. We stopped at Carl’s Corner, and as soon as we pulled up, the women there said, ‘Oh, the frogs are back!’
They came out, hugged them, took pictures. Even the mayor came out. It was like a reunion.”
Stories from Carl’s Corner
That pit stop brought out stories of the old truck stop’s wilder days. “They told me Carl’s Corner used to have an RV park with a pool out back,” Aubuchon said, shaking his head. “They said it was kind of like a mini-brothel. Truckers would call ahead and reserve an RV.”
He paused, then chuckled. “Now, I don’t know how much of that they’d want published. But man, the stories people tell when those frogs show up…”
Frogs, Fish, and Big-Ass Art
Through the years, Aubuchon came to know Bob “Daddy-O” Wade himself. “He was just one of those guys who could make you laugh as soon as he walked in the room,” Aubuchon said. “I met him when we first refreshed the frogs. Such a creative spirit. You know, one time he even had one of his giant fish sculptures on top of the Knox-Henderson Chuy’s building. Today it’s sitting out in Lake Austin by the Hula Hut.”
Like Wade’s other oversized creations, the frogs weren’t just decoration — they were conversation pieces, roadside attractions, and living folklore.
The End of an Era
After 39 years with Chuy’s, Aubuchon’s time with the company is winding down. The chain was recently acquired by Darden, and his department is being phased out. “It’s a gut punch,” he admitted. “I even asked if I could buy the frogs. They’re too cool for Darden, if you ask me.”
Still, he takes pride in their journey — and in his role as their shepherd. “When we brought them back to Greenville, three blocks from their original spot at Tango, it just felt right. From a marketing standpoint, it was a no-brainer. From a cultural standpoint, it was bringing them home.”
For Aubuchon, the frogs represent more than rebar, structure, molding and paint. They are proof that art can take on a life of its own — moving across states, stopping traffic on I-35, sparking rumors in truck stops, and reminding people of Dallas nightlife in the ’80s.
“I’ve been their frog herder for 20 years,” he said with a grin. “Not a bad legacy to leave behind.”
Three of the Tango Frogs relocated to Dallas at Chuy’s on Lowest Greenville. Courtesy Lisa Wade
A Conversation with Monk White
If you’ve ever driven past a taco joint on Lowest Greenville in Dallas and seen giant frogs dancing on the roof, you’ve glimpsed the strange, wonderful legacy of Bob “Daddy-O” Wade—Texas’s unofficial minister of roadside art. But to truly understand the journey of the famous Tango Frogs, you have to talk to one of the men behind the madness: Monk White. Without whom, none of this might have happened.
Monk’s name kept surfacing as I interviewed the people who knew Daddy-O best—Shannon and Angus Wynne, Lisa Wade, and more. So I gave him a call.
“Monk White…” I began. “How do I know that name? Are you from Dallas?”
“I grew up in Fort Worth,” he said. “University of Texas. Then Wharton. Wall Street. Eventually, I came back to Dallas. Spent most of my life there before settling in Austin.”
“Sounds enough like a Dallasite to me,” I told him, mentioning my years in the nightclub scene—back when Greenville Avenue was all neon and attitude. Even did a one-year stint as maître d’ when the Playboy Club opened.
That got his attention.
“Oh my God, really? With Lenny Licht and Joel McQuade?”
“Yep. And a couple of wild years at Papagayo, too.”
He laughed. “Then we’ve definitely crossed paths. My crew ran with the Stoneleigh P crowd, or wherever Shannon or Angus were stirring things up.”
We were already speaking the same language.
Making Art Out of Chaos
I asked Monk how he first met Daddy-O Wade.
“We were connected way back at UT,” he said. “Later, when I returned to Dallas after working on Wall Street, I found Daddy-O a place on the east side. That’s when the art got real crazy. I bought him a shop on Lemmon Avenue—just down from Mother Blues. It became a circus. Half a dozen cars would roll up and we’d take the place over. I was in on most of Daddy-O’s big projects.”
Monk’s name appears over and over in Daddy-O’s Book of Big-Ass Art, a fitting tribute to the man who helped make many of those wild dreams a reality.
The Giant Iguana, sitting on top of Lone Star Cafe in Manhattan in NYC. Courtesy Lisa and Rachel Wade and “Daddy-O’s Book of Big Ass Art”
“Daddy-O was hilarious,” Monk recalled. “Just walk into a room and people would start laughing. He saw the world differently. I once brought back some little iguanas from Mexico—cheap tourist junk. He picked one up and said, ‘I want to build a 36-foot iguana.’ No plan. No hesitation. Next thing you know, we’re fundraising and that thing’s sitting in D.C., then on Wall Street, then on a NYC cafe and now back home in Texas.”
Enter the Frogs
The Tango Frogs started the same way.
“I brought back these little stuffed frogs from Mexico,” Monk said. “Daddy-O took one look and said, ‘Let’s make eight-foot versions.’ And that was that.”
Towering, grinning, frozen mid-boogie—these frogs became icons the moment they hit the roof of Tango nightclub on Greenville Avenue. But when Tango closed in 1985, the frogs went up for auction.
“I think I paid about $2,500 at the auction for them,” Monk told me.
“And Shannon said they cost around $20,000 to make. Sounds like a great deal!” Paul said
Willie Nelson Whiskey River Saloon, Courtesy Debby Pressinger 09-13-2009
Instead of stashing them away, Monk gave the frogs a new stage: Carl’s Corner, a funky roadside stop he co-owned with Carl Cornelius near Hillsboro. With Willie Nelson playing regular gigs there and truckers pulling over for gas, beer, and a photo op, Carl’s Corner became legendary. And the frogs? They fit right in.
Even after the building burned down, the frogs survived; three were out back, and three more were mounted on top of the gas pumps. Later, they appeared at Willie’s Place, then popped up in Houston, Austin, Nashville and then Dallas again—perched above a taco joint near the old Tango location. More on that journey in our blow-by-blow chronology in Part 3 of this series.
Willie, Weed & Unexpected Stages
Not all of Monk’s stories were about sculpture.
“One day, Willie’s tour bus pulled up,” he said. “Now, I’m not much of a smoker, but I took a couple of hits off the bong. Next thing I know, I’m being asked to walk upstairs—where all the sheriffs are—and end up on stage in front of 2,000 people. That boy could get you in trouble.”
We both laughed at that. Because of course he could.
Monk Today
Now 83 (though he swears he feels 65), Monk lives in Austin with his wife Joanne, not far from his two daughters.
“Lost my first wife, but I’ve been blessed to find happiness again,” he told me.
“Congratulations! Still waiting for mine.” I said. Before we ended the call, I said, “If we’d met back in Dallas, I think we’d have been good friends.”
“Absolutely,” he replied.
No doubt about it!
Frog’s get a do-over. Courtesy Faith Schexnayder and Flatfork Studio
The Frog Whisperer
Faith Schexnayder, Flatfork Studio and the Second Life of the Tango Frogs
By Paul Heckmann
The Tango Frogs have traveled a long way from their rooftop boogie days on Lower Greenville. Ten feet tall, mischievously grinning, and full of Texas swagger, they’ve danced their way into state folklore. But to understand how these fiberglass (well, not quite) legends were reborn, you have to meet the artist who gave them a second life: Faith Schexnayder.
I’d been chasing the story of the frogs for a while—talking with Shannon Wynne, Lisa Wade, and Monk White. Their tales were wild, but I knew I needed the rest of the picture. So I picked up the phone and called Faith to find out more about how the frogs were made.
“Faith, this is Paul Heckmann. I’m a friend of Shannon Wynne, Lisa Wade, Monk White… and I’ve been tracking the Frogs!” I said, half-laughing.
She chuckled. “Good luck,” she replied dryly.
“I’ve had these frogs almost going to Japan,” I joked.
“Not quite that far,” she said. “But they did make it to Nashville.”
From Film Sets to Folk Art
Faith’s own journey has been just as colorful as the frogs she revived. She began her career in the Texas film industry, working on big-name productions like RoboCop and television projects with Turner Network and Amblin Entertainment. But over the years, her creativity spilled over into new worlds—designing children’s rooms, building whimsical event installations, and restoring some of Texas’s most beloved pieces of pop art.
Faith and Bob Wade’s giant hamburger for Hilbert’s in Austin. Courtesy Faith Schexnayder
Her first collaboration with Bob “Daddy-O” Wade came in the mid-1990s, when he enlisted her to help repair a few of his offbeat creations, including the iconic Hula Hut fish in the river and a giant hamburger for Hilbert’s Burgers in Austin. Then, in 2010, the Tango Frogs came hopping back into the picture—weather-beaten, bird-nested, and in serious need of TLC.
“They were in bad shape,” Faith recalled. “I mean, missing pieces, flaking paint, nests in their heads. But we got them looking fantastic again.”
Frogs, Flip-Flops, and Faith’s Touch
Working out of her Austin studio, Flatfork Studio, Faith didn’t just restore the frogs—she reimagined them.
She gave one frog a pair of flip-flops. The female frog, previously barefoot, now sported bright red cowboy boots and a little “top tie” for flair. Faith added sculpted pads to their fingers for realism and replaced missing parts with weather-resistant materials. The eyelashes? Not just an afterthought—they’re made from actual Volkswagen Beetle headlight eyelashes, catching the Texas sunlight like winks from a cartoon dream.
“Bob did everything on the cheap,” Faith said with a grin. “So most of the hands-on stuff came down to me and a few others.”
Despite their towering height and show-stopping appearance, the frogs aren’t made of fiberglass, as many, including myself, assumed. Their internal structure is a blend of metal rebar, chicken wire, spray foam, and a durable rubberized coating. They’re sturdy—but moving them is no small feat. It requires cranes, careful planning, and a healthy dose of prayer.
A Traveling Troupe
The Frogs on their way back to Dallas to leapfrog onto the roof of the Chuy’s patio on Lowest Greenville. Courtesy Lisa Wade, Faith Schexnayder and Flatfork Studio
Over the years, the frogs have leapfrogged their way across Texas and beyond: from Dallas to Houston, from Austin to Nashville, and eventually back home again on Lowest Greenville Avenue in Dallas. They’ve lived at Carl’s Corner (where Willie Nelson once helped keep the lights on), graced rooftops of taco joints, and most recently, made their way to Chuy’s and the Truck Yard, just blocks from where they first captivated passersbys in the ’80s.
Originally commissioned by Shannon Wynne for $20,000, the frogs were later sold at auction and scooped up by Monk White for just $2,000. Today, Faith estimates it costs about $10,000 per frog just to refurbish them properly.
“They’re big,” she said, “and they’re built to last—but only if someone keeps loving them.”
The Iguana Mobile & What’s Next
The Iguanamobile, courtesy Bid.AustinAuction.com
Faith hasn’t slowed down. One of her latest projects? The Bambi Airstream, affectionately known as the Iguana Mobile. Originally built to promote Daddy-O’s Book of Big-Ass Art, the trailer is now being stripped down and redesigned as a mobile event service vehicle.
“We’re really bringing it back to life,” she said. “It’s going to be something special.”
More Than Just Frogs
As our call wrapped up, I told Faith she was my final interview for the project.
“Good luck with everything,” she said with a warm laugh.
She reminded me of something that’s easy to forget when you’re staring up at a ten-foot frog in flip-flops: these aren’t just roadside attractions. They’re living stories—full of personality, memory, and the odd bit of mischief.
“Walk past them today,” she said, “and you can almost see the stories they carry. The eyelashes catching the sun, the paint gleaming, the grin just daring you not to smile.”
In the end, the Tango Frogs aren’t just art. They’re Texas. They’re joy. They’re a little wink from the past, reminding us to keep dancing—no matter how weird the tune gets.
Thanks to Truck Yard and Lisa Wade and Faith Schexnayder, who pulled their truck up to the Truck Yard (TY’s Frogs on top of the roof) so that the family of Frogs could croak together for a final time before taking them to their forever (hopefully) home at Chuys on Greenville Ave.
If you want to learn more about Bob Wade and his art, visit www.bobwade.com or check out his books, Daddy’s Book of Big Ass Art and Daddy’s Book of Iguana Heads and Texas Tales. And if you happen to drive past Chuy’s in Dallas, or the Truck Yard just around the corner, look up—you might just catch the Tango Frogs watching over the city, as they’ve done for decades.
Stay tuned for Part 3, with Scot from Chuy’s and their trip through the eyes of the Chuy designer. Also the chronology of Bob Wade’s projects and his various other Projects.
If you missed Part 1, go to https://meminc.org/six-frogs-over-tango-part-1/
Thanks to so many folks for helping out with this Tango Frogs project, including the fella that kicked it off, Shannon Wynne, his brother and MemInc Board Emeritus Angus Wynne III, editing by Mike Farris, the Memories Admins Mark Cheyne, Chris Doelle, all of our 20ish Moderators, Lisa Wade and the spirit of her hubby Bob “Daddy-O” Wade, Scot Aubuchon formerly of Chuy’s, Faith Shexnayder, fixer extraordinaire, Tom and Laura Garrison of the new Stoneleigh P and of course Monk White, without whom a lot of this wouldn’t have come together!
The Six Frogs over Tango. On top of the club. Photo courtesy Internet included in accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107.
Six Frogs Over Tango: Shannon Wynne
Shannon Wynne and the Tango
In the early 1980s, Shannon Wynne was looking to create something new in Dallas nightlife. “Video was still really new back then,” he recalled. “I wanted something different, so I built a club that had a room with 20–25 TVs in it. It was very innovative for the time.”
Tango wasn’t just his first nightclub—it became a destination. There was even a video DJ, or “VJ,” although, as Wynne admits, it was a far cry from today’s sophisticated setups. “They just played music videos that were MTV quality. They weren’t creating anything live. But David Bowie heard about it, and he came to see it.”
The old bank building that housed Tango shaped much of its character. Videos played in the vault room, adding a quirky layer to the atmosphere. But the club’s most iconic feature would be born out of a chance encounter in a friend’s studio.
Wynne had known the artist and Texas folk legend Bob “Daddy-O” Wade for some time, ever since helping him build the Texas Mobile Home Museum in 1976. He even had a hand in the creation of the giant ostrich-skin boots now standing in San Antonio, and later pitched in on Daddy-O’s Iguanomobile. By 1981, Wynne had already seen Daddy-O’s work on display in New York City, and while rummaging through his studio for inspiration, he spotted one of those curious stuffed frogs playing an instrument—an item often found in curio shops in Mexico.
The Iguanamobile, courtesy Bid.AustinAuction.com
“That would be cool,” Wynne thought aloud. Daddy-O agreed, and together they dreamed up “Six Frogs Over Tango,” (also known as “Six Frogs Over Greenville”), in deference to Shannon’s dad, Angus Wynne Jr., who came up with the world-renowned amusement park “Six Flags Over Texas.”
The frogs would be large, motorized, and ‘permanently’ perched atop Tango. Daddy-O set up a “frog factory” originally in an old warehouse on Lemmon Avenue owned by Monk White, then they were later moved to a warehouse on Greenville, gathering a crew to bring the vision to life. “Daddy-O didn’t really get himself dirty,” Wynne laughed. “He directed traffic.”
The final product—six massive amphibians, each eight or nine feet tall—cost around $20,000. Some were posed as if dancing, all set to canned music while their heads and bodies rotated above the street. The installation required a crane and a sign crew to hoist them onto the roof. The frogs even earned national attention, with mentions in Newsweek and People Magazine.
Shannon Wynne, Count Basie and Tony Bennett at Tango back in the day. Courtesy Shannon Wynne
And guess what? Dallas City Hall decided they were advertising, signage of a sort which was prohibited, and said to take them down. Shannon and his neighbors disagreed. Shannon took them to Frog court and got the ban overturned as they were considered art! It was lampooned in the Dallas Times-Herald.
Courtesy Dallas Times-Herald, drawn by Scott Willis, TH Editorial Cartoonist
When Tango eventually closed, everything was auctioned off. Wynne remembered the question hanging over the six rooftop giants: “What are you going to do with six giant frogs?” Monk White had the answer—he purchased them for $2,500 and moved them to Carl’s Corner, the quirky truck stop he co-owned with Carl Cornelius. (more on that in the Monk White interview in Part 2)
Before they departed Greenville Avenue, Wynne and friends threw the frogs a big goodbye party at the nearby Fast and Cool Club. Photographs from the day show Wynne, Cornelius, Daddy-O, and Monk White standing proudly on the flatbed truck hauling the green troupe toward their new life.
Today, Wynne is just happy they’ve survived. “I’m really glad they’re both on Greenville,” he said of their current separate locations. “I’m sorry they’re not in the same place, but at least they’re still there.” At one point, he even tried to reunite them all for one of his ‘Rodeo Goat’ restaurant locations in the Taco Cabana building that stood on top of the old Tango property, but the building’s owners opted for a Starbucks instead.
For Wynne, the Tango Frogs aren’t just an eccentric decoration—they’re a reminder of a creative era when a handful of visionaries could dream big, build wild, and leave something unforgettable in the Dallas skyline.
Six Frogs Over Tango: Lisa Wade
The Hopping History of the Tango Frogs: A Conversation with Lisa Wade
When it comes to Dallas icons, few are as instantly recognizable—or as beloved—as the Tango Frogs. Perched high above buildings for decades, these six giant amphibians have hopped across Texas and beyond, leaving a trail of memories, tall tales, and quirky art history in their wake.
To get the real story, I spoke with Lisa Wade, wife of the late artist Bob “Daddy-O” Wade, the man who birthed the frogs. Over the course of our conversation, we traced the frogs’ unlikely journey, shared stories about the Dallas club scene in the ’80s, and talked about the friends and characters who kept the legend alive.
Bob Wade riding one of his 40′ tall ‘ostrich’ cowboy boots. Courtesy Lisa Wade and “Daddy O’s Book of Big Ass Art”
From Stuffed Iguanas to Giant Frogs
Lisa explained that the idea for the frogs didn’t start with frogs at all—it began with a stuffed iguana.
“Our friend Monk White brought a stuffed iguana back from Puerto Vallarta,” she recalled. “That’s what kicked off the whole thing.” Then the sculpture at Artpark was moved to the Lone Star Cafe in 1978, the Boots in 1979, all before the Frogs looked over Greenville Ave. (a timeline for the Bob Wade and the Frogs is being completed for Part 2)
At the time, Bob Wade had already built a reputation for creating oversized, whimsical public art—giant cowboy boots, a saxophone sculpture, the famous Iguanamobile. The frogs came to life in 1982–83 at the “Frog Factory” across from the legendary Dallas club, Tango. They first appeared in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade on Greenville Avenue, mounted on the back of a flatbed truck.
Daddy O surveying what the Frogs were seeing, installing them on the top of Tango, Courtesy Lisa Wade and “Daddy O’s Book of Big Ass Art”
Life Above Tango
Once complete, the frogs took their place atop the Tango nightclub, becoming part of the city’s nightlife identity. The ’80s Dallas club scene was wild, and Lisa remembers it vividly—clubs like the Starck Club, the Rio Room, and the Nostromo were all part of the cultural background.
“It was the ’80s,” she laughed. “People talk about how there was ecstasy at the Starck Club, just sitting in bowls on the counter, like mints. It was a different time.”
Bob wasn’t a partier, but he was an observer, and he noticed everything. The frogs became more than decoration—they were conversation starters, landmarks, and eventually, symbols of a certain Dallas era.
The Great Frog Migration
By 1985, the frogs’ rooftop residency ended. After appearing at the Fast and Cool Club, all six were moved to Carl’s Corner, the famous truck stop founded by Willie Nelson’s friend Carl Cornelius and Monk White.
Three of the Frogs on top of the gas/diesel pumps at Carl’s Corner. Courtesy Dallas.culture.com, 2020 article
“They survived a fire there,” Lisa said. “Three were up over the gas pumps, three in back. The ones up front got their fingers a little charred, but that was it. We were lucky those gas pumps didn’t go up.”
From there, the frogs began their decades-long journey:
Mid-1980s – Three frogs remained at Carl’s Corner, while the others traveled in a Texas sculpture show.
1990 article courtesy TAMU Battalion and TAMU.edu, Frogs on the art tour around 1987
Early 2000s – Some ended up in front of a Taco Cabana in Dallas, then moved to the Truck Yard.
2013 – Three were moved from Chuy’s in Houston to Chuy’s in Nashville.
2024 – Thanks to the efforts of “Sweet Guy Scot” from Chuy’s and artist Faith (who had refurbished other Wade works and we interviewed in Part 2), the Nashville frogs were returned to Dallas and restored to glory at a new Chuy’s location—just blocks from their original home.
Friends, Characters, and the Legacy
Names like Monk White, Mike Young, and Shannon Wynne come up often when talking about the frogs’ history. Lisa spoke warmly about Monk, calling him “the best” and sharing that he had been the best man at her wedding.
She also recalled the endless network of friends, artists, and characters that surrounded Bob Wade’s work. “Once you started working with Bob, you were irrevocably part of his life,” she said.
Traveling Frogs, courtesy Lisa, Rachel and Daddy-O Wade
More Than Just Frogs
Lisa sees the frogs not only as art, but as living pieces of history. “You don’t own the sculptures anymore, but you’re tied to them for life. You just hope people take care of them.”
Bob Wade’s art—whether it was the frogs, the Iguanamobile, or giant cowboy boots—was never just about the object. It was about joy, humor, and the way people connected to them.
“They’ve hopped around for over 40 years,” Lisa said. “Through fires, moves, and even corporate buyouts, they’ve survived. People love them.”
Still Hopping
Today, three of the Tango Frogs sit proudly above Chuy’s in Dallas, their green bodies gleaming from a recent restoration. They’re a reminder of a wilder, more colorful Dallas—and of the artist who believed in making art fun and unforgettable. The other three sit around the corner at The Truck Yard, all six are within a couple of blocks of their original home.
As Willie Nelson said when he first saw them at Carl’s Corner: “What the hell is Carl on?”
Now, Lisa says, “He understands. He knows what a genius Daddy-O Wade really was.”
If you want to learn more about Bob Wade and his art, visit www.bobwade.com or check out his books, Daddy’s Book of Big Ass Art and Daddy’s Book of Iguana Heads and Texas Tales. And if you happen to drive past Chuy’s in Dallas, or the Truck Yard just around the corner, look up—you might just catch the Tango Frogs watching over the city, as they’ve done for decades.
Stay tuned for Part 2, very soon with the prime suspect, the instigator Monk White, the repairer, painter and overall Frog fixer Faith Shexnayder and also Scot Abuchon, the designer for Chuy’s for several decades.
Thanks to so many folks for helping out with this Tango Frogs project, including the fella that kicked it off, Shannon Wynne, his brother and MemInc Board Emeritus Angus Wynne III, editing by Mike Farris, the Memories Admins Mark Cheyne, Chris Doelle, all of our 20ish Moderators, Lisa Wade and the spirit of her hubby Bob “Daddy-O” Wade, Scot Aubuchon formerly of Chuy’s, Faith Shexnayder, fixer extraordinaire, Tom and Laura Garrison of the new Stoneleigh P and of course Monk White, without whom a lot of this wouldn’t have come together!
Paul Heckmann: Hello there Troy. Paul Heckmann here.
Troy Dungan: Hi Paul, I just walked in the door.
Paul: Glad to finally catch up with you.
Troy Dungan and the crew at Channel 8, Iola Johnson, Tracy Rowlett and Verne Lundquist. Courtesy WBAP
Let me kind of start out for the folks that might have recently moved to Dallas or Fort Worth. Mr. Dungan was our Channel 8 Weatherman for many years. I know he goes back a bit before that, so I will let him fill you in.
Troy: I stopped doing this in, in 2007, so it’s been 18 years since I was a TV weather guy, but, but I did it for 45 years, 31 here in Dallas.
Paul: It’s quite amazing actually. You’ve been named the best television weathercaster by the Texas AP broadcasters eight times. The Dallas Observer had named you the best television weather caster five times. You’d received the Knight of the Press award and special recognition from the National Oceanic, atmospheric Association research flight facility for work on a documentary dealing with the subject of hurricanes. Additionally, The Dallas Press Club had bestowed the Kaia Award upon you. During the last week as Chief Weather Anchor, the National Weather Service gave, Troy an award for his service to the weather community.
I guess we should start this with your personal history. You were born in Ennis?
Troy: Yes, I was born in Ennis and my parents moved to Hillsboro when I was three. So I’m basically a local. I lived in Hillsboro from age 3 to 18, and then they moved south a few miles when I went to Baylor. So I was in this part of the country for most of my life until I started working
Paul: Sic’em Bears.
Troy: Yes, indeed. I went to Baylor and then I started working at KWTX Radio and TV in Waco where a lot of local guys started. KWTX is a very good radio and TV station, it’s a real pioneer. I think the TV station’s been the air since the early fifties, it’s a good product in a good market
Waco’s not a big city, but it’s a good radio and TV market.
Paul: Absolutely.
Troy: So, are you a Baylor grad as well?
Paul: I went to Baylor for a couple of semesters. I went to Texas A&I as I got a football scholarship down there.
So, when did you leave Waco for Orlando?
Troy: When I graduated in January of 59, I moved down to KBTX-TV in Bryan College Station at that time. Ladybird Johnson owned half of that station so it was a natural transition.
In 1959, Bryan Valley Station good, but I decided I wanted to see the world, so I went to Florida on vacation. I applied at several different TV stations there. At that time this one was called WDBO in Orlando, it’s now Channel 6, a CBS station.
And so I got a job there however it was not doing news or weather. It was what you used to call a ‘booth announcer’. That was the fella that announced all the station commercial logs. Then in February of 62 they said, ‘hey kid, we need somebody to do the weather at 11 o’clock. You wanna try this?” And I said, “Sure”. And then later on they added another cast at 6 PM.
And then a station in Houston called and said, they would provide me with an education in Meteorology.
Troy and Janet in the early days. Courtesy Troy Dungan
I moved to Houston to KTRK-TV, and for a year and a half to two years, I had private lessons every day from a couple of professors at the University of St. Thomas, a Catholic University in Houston. And they developed a TV meteorology curriculum based on what they taught me. So my background is quite unusual. I’m the only one I know that really had private lessons in meteorology. My degrees are in Radio, TV and Political Science. That private training really played off for me.
Paul: And was that the National Engineering Science Company?
Troy: That was just the University of St. Thomas. These two guys were college professors, Dr. Thomas and Dr. Goldwyn and they developed a curriculum based on what they taught me.
So that put me in good stead for seven and a half years at KTRK TV in Houston. It’s ABC 13 now.
Paul: That’s amazing. Isn’t that where you met your wife?
Troy: Janet and I met when we both worked at KTRK-TV in Houston. She was a behind the scenes staffer. Too bad she wasn’t in front of the camera. She was and still is beautiful.
Paul: That she is!
Now when did you leave for Philadelphia?
Troy Dungan at Ch 7. Photo courtesy Internet included in accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107.
Troy: It was in 1972. They actually contacted me. CBS owned that station at Tough Times Networks, they only owned five network stations at that time.
One of them was in Philadelphia and this guy called me and he said, ‘I need somebody here’. So I went up and interviewed with them and sure enough, got a job doing weather in Philadelphia, which was big because at that point, Philly was the fourth largest market, it’s a big city.
It’s a wonderful place. It’s, it’s a tough town for sports fans, you know, they actually booed Santa Claus at a Eagles game. The winter’s not too bad, summer’s not too hot. I was there for a couple of years
Paul: And that’s when you developed current five day forecast system?
Troy and his brand new “5 Day Outlook”. Photo courtesy Internet included in accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107.
Troy: That is correct. We were one of the first ones to do that.
Now they do it all the time. The forecast is really the first two days – and outlook is five days and anything beyond that’s an educated guess.
Paul: Tell me about WXYZ in Detroit.
Troy: I was in, in Philadelphia a couple years, and the guy that I had replaced in Philadelphia, whatever news, and after a couple years, they’re gonna bring him back, and so my spot kind of went away. So. I didn’t really look for a job in Detroit. That was not a place I was really headed for. But I went to New York and spoke with Al Primo at, ABC. He was developed a happy talk TV news and he, he leaned back in his chair and he said, I need someone in Detroit. So I go back to Philadelphia that afternoon and I’m a plane ticket for Detroit the next day.
Ah, the climate in Detroit. The people are great, but the climate’s awful. Anyway, the bottom line was I got this job in Detroit and for two years I did weather and environmental reporting there, but I was never really delighted to be there.
However, I met Marty Haag, who was the TV news director at WFAA in Dallas while I was still in Detroit. So it took us a while to work this out, but in the spring of 76, I came down to Dallas and sure enough, I got the job as well.
Paul: Now there is one big part of your journey yet to be told from WXYZ. Tell me about the evolution of your signature bow tie.
Troy: That is correct. Yes, it was, it was very cold and I was doing a story about ice fishing in the middle of Pontiac Lake. The ice was like eight inches thick and we all had these Channel 7 Blazers. And it had the logo on the pocket so we all looked alike, and you had to wear a high neck sweater because it was cold. Our ties would disappear underneath those sweaters. Anyway, Don Meredith was doing a Super Bowl for ABC, and he was wearing a bow tie. I said, ‘that’s interesting’, and when I tried it, you could still see the high neck sweater. So I bought three bow ties, wore ’em for three days, took a day off.
And after that, one of the anchors said, what happened to that bow tie? That was interesting. So I went and bought some more. That was 1974. So I started wearing bow ties and it became a trademark. It really says, here’s this guy and there’s everybody else. So it was, it was a good trademark for me. It still is.
Paul: And these were all hand tied bow ties too.
Troy: Oh yes, I said, if you’re gonna do this, you gotta learn to do it right. So I kept the instructions in my pocket for a long time just in case somebody came along and ripped it undone. I. And it’s still not easy. I have to stand in front of a mirror to do this, and I couldn’t tie one on anybody else. It’s still not an easy discipline, but it’s worth it because it just turned out to be my look.
Paul: Well, you know, something, I had the clip on bow ties and I had to stand still stand in front of a mirror to get it straight.
Troy: And also I’ll let you in another secret if Paul, there are two ways to wear a bow tie, the kind you hand tie. You can just have the kind of a double make hair look or it’s a little messy. Or if you’re anal retentive as I am, you’d like for the ends to match. So I take double sticky tape and stick the ends together after it’s tied and that way it looks neat.
Paul: Very cool! Okay then. Now you don’t wear a bow tie on Thanksgiving. Is there a story there?
Troy: Well, that’s, that used to be when I worked at Channel 8, I was the senior guy, so I could, I could work what holidays I wanted, but I wanted to be fair. So I always wanted to be off Christmas. So I always worked on Thanksgiving, which is a weekday of course.
And so on those days I would always wear a turtleneck. That’s kind of a protest of being there!
And I still have a, I have a drawer full of ’em. I’ve got 220 bow ties. I have a new client, a commercial, so I’m wearing a tie in that or whatever. So if I wore a tie there, I’d look like I was trying to stand out if I have a business meeting. Like a, a funeral or something. I still have those ties and, and I wear ’em and I don’t have any straight ties!
Paul: And Dallas is next. You arrive in July of 1976, tell me about what’s going on and how you got there.
Troy: Hardy Hague was the news director. We knew each other and as I said before, it took us a while to put it together. So he invited me down and we decided that we could do this. And my parents were in Ennis by that time, so they were happy They were living here and it’s the only place I ever worked where my parents could watch me on TV.
We had a daughter at that time who was a year and a half old. So also my parents got to watch my baby daughter grow up. Her name is Wyn-Erin
And we had three days to look for a house. We came down in the spring from Detroit to move here in July.
We, the third house we looked at third day, we bought that house in July of 1976, and that’s where I’m sitting right now. We still live in that house. Paul,
Paul: And your daughter?
Troy: She is married and. So I’m a grandpa. So, but, but you know what, we had two older kids as well, and think about this. This is the house where they grew up. Mm-hmm. And that doesn’t really happen anymore. You know, this is people move around. But since we’ve been here for half a century in this house, well, those kids grew up here, so it’s home. Janet and I love that place.
Paul: So you’re, you’re back in Dallas. Was this only at 6pm?
Troy: actually, I did the, the weather at five, six, and 10: And for 30 years I did that. And then I was gonna retire at after those 30 years, I was certainly there long enough to retire, but they talked me into staying another year. So, Pete Delkus entered the picture. I had been responsible for getting my own replacement, so I talked to him into coming down from WCPO in Cincinnati. We worked together for a year. We kind of split duty. And then the last was there, the 31st year. I just did the six o’clock weather. Pete did the five and the 10. So after that, I stopped in July of 2007, and that’s been 18 years now. I haven’t looked back.
Paul: An amazing career.
Paul: While we are on Ch 8, let’s talk about Dale Hansen, your station’s sports guy. Dale claimed weather was an easy job…
Troy: I said, ‘It’s not quite like forecasting all the sports stories five days ahead.’
And he said, he said, ‘Okay, you got me there.’
Paul: Dale was known to spout a little bit.
Troy: Oh, Dale’s one of those guys. He’s got no filter on his brain. Whatever’s out there just comes out his mouth.
Paul: He is a character for sure.
Troy: He is indeed.
I just had a wonderful career, but you know, I said I’ve done this long enough and I wanna stop before somebody tells me to!
Paul: Well, looking back in your youth, I bet you never thought about doing the weather..
Troy: In high school I was interested in journalism and was a paid reporter for the local newspaper in Hillsboro when I was in high school. I had the idea of majoring in journalism at Baylor and I kind of fell into broadcasting and wound up a degree in, in Radio and TV Communications, and I had room for a second major. So I chose Political Science. So I started out to be in the news business and the weather just kind of came to me by chance. You have to be ready for whatever life brings you and turned out it was gonna be weather. So I did that for 45 years. It was very good to me.
Paul: ‘Dance with what brung ya’ as I think Darrell Royal said.
Troy: That’s true. Worked out very well.
Paul: Worked out very well.
Troy Dungan VHA Toy Drive WFAA Ch 8 Santa’s Helpers, courtesy Tim Seaman
Who were some of your favorite co-hosts to work with?
Troy: Well, Tracy Rowlett and I are still friends, I’m having dinner with him and his wife plus another couple next week, We’ve known each other, of course, for over 50 years, and Tracy and I have worked together on several different occasions.
And we talk about things that happened behind the camera and some of other people. The late Chip Moody was just a real character. We got a lot of good stories and, of course I worked with Dale Hansen, we were acquaintances. We were never really close friends because he only showed up in the studio to do the sports and he was back in his office. I also worked with Verne Lundquist who’s retired now, he worked for CBS sports for many years. He’s still a good friend as well. But I don’t see him very much.
He spends a lot of time in Steamboat Springs, which would be his first home now. So otherwise, we’ve just had a good bunch of people over the years. Uh, some people whose names you wouldn’t recognize from on the air, but we’re still friends and see each other and, and still enjoy friendships ’cause life’s about relationships. And if you can maintain those friendships, that’s a very important part of life.
Paul: Absolutely. I still have friends from nearly every job I’ve done in my life, and there were a lot of them!
So who might be the best producer that you worked with? Who was the most fun?
Troy: Well, you know what? That would be hard to say, but I will say that one of the producers later became a really close friend, his name is John. We call him “Sparky” as his last name was Sparks.
John worked at most the stations in Dallas, he was also the executive producer at WNDC TV in New York for four years. But he moved back here. Well, in 2013 and 2014 there was a little startup station, channel 47, they put on a show called, Texas Daily. A number of us who had been in TV, they called us back to do that show.
It was an hour long show. Tracy and I were the anchors for two days of the week. And you could just, you drink coffee with your buddy 30 minutes before the show, say whatever you want for an hour on the show, and then you go home. Well, “Sparky” John Sparks was the producer. And we really connected and found our spiritual connection. We wound up going to church together and we are still good friends. We see each other very often. They’re very high on our list of social friends, that’s the producer that really jumps out to me.
Paul: Iola was on that Ch 47 show, I believe.
Troy: John Criswell was also there. He passed away in 2023.
Paul: I worked with John Criswell’s daughter when she was a Playboy Bunny at the Playboy Club of Dallas. Very lovely lady.
Troy: Yes she is.
Troy’s retirement cake at WFAA. Courtesy Lane Luckie and laneluckie.com
Paul: Tell me about the Skeeter meter.
Troy: Well, the mosquitos are a bit of a problem in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. At that time the City of Dallas was releasing a report every day predicting what mosquito activity would be. There are all sorts of diseases that mosquitoes can bring. Our art director came up with this meter and it says, mosquitoes green, yellow, and red, with a dial. And we put that on the screen behind me and. It would show what we expected the mosquito activity to be; Red, yellow, or green.
You know what, I asked about that the other day? I think that one of those is still exists at Channel 8, somewhere in the back room of engineering. I don’t really know anybody down there anymore, but I need to get down there and see if we can unearth that, that would be an artifact.
Paul: Oh yeah. I love those artifacts. We collect them for Memories Incorporated, we have a storage locker for them up in Carrollton. I just got one from somebody that you probably know, Bud Buschardt.
Troy: Yes, Bud was a, he was a really good guy. Unfortunately, we lost him recently. He was a great loss, but he was a good guy. Very well thought of in the business.
Paul: I got to interview him and went to his house about four or five times. It was filled to the brim with records. I’ve never seen so many records in all my life.
Troy: Ha. That’s right. That was Bud.
Paul: And he had a full turntable set where he could play and record anything he wanted to there. And he had the actual original turntables from the Something Else show.
Chip Moody watches Troy Dungan & Gloria prepare for Chip’s annual Beni Hana Celeb Chef’s fundraiser for Children’s Med Ctr. Courtesy Gloria Campos
Troy: Oh my. The Ron Chapman show.
Paul: Exactly. Yes. That’s another one.
Troy: Ron Chapman was another dear friend and a really good guy. And unfortunately we lost him recently also. But, as you know, we all have egos in this business, so did Ron. But let me tell you that behind the scenes, Ron was a very sweet man who did a lot of good for a lot of people. He never publicized those good deeds. He was really a good guy. And he’s missed.
Paul: Did you ever have to cover for another anchor, like sports or something else?
Troy: No, I never did that. But you know, that wouldn’t be easy to do because if somebody told Tracy Rowlett to go do the weather, that’s not something that’s going to be easy because you’re not used to it. And if same by the same token, I don’t think they would ever let me do that, ’cause they probably wouldn’t think I’d be serious enough about it. But sometimes it did happen. One time the news anchor didn’t show up on a Saturday. I was filling in for somebody doing the weather. And George Reba had to do the sports and the news. You know it’s not easy when it’s something you’re not used to doing.
Paul: At least if you’re sitting down at the desk, maybe you could read off the teleprompters there.
Troy: Well, you probably know when you do the weather, you use a teleprompter, you’re prepared the data, so you just kind of talk about what you figured out all afternoon.
Paul: You also have to figure out what’s behind you on the green screen.
Troy: Exactly, yes.
Paul: You REALLY have to know what you are doing to do green screens correctly. What year did you start using green screens?
Troy: I think that was 1983. At that point, we began to have some computer products, and if you wanted to show that and still be in the picture yourself, you could use what we then called chroma key. So John Coleman, who was a weather guy in Chicago, and I kind of dispute about who invented that. It was one of the two of us. It was not the same time, but I was one of the first one or two people to use it for sure. And of course that’s the way they do it now. And now, until now, some stations, including one in the Fort Worth area, just have a video wall behind them. So the pictures are really there. Yes. But before that, you have to look at monitors off to one side or the other and create the illusion that there’s something behind you.
Paul: Wow. It’s amazing.
So tell me about the family. Are they all Baylor Bears?
Troy: As for Leah and Dana, Janet had those two little ones when we got married.
They were nine and five. Leah lives in California. Unfortunately, we, we lost Dana about a short time ago to liver disease. He was 53. But to answer your question, neither one of them. She went to North Texas and he went to a private school and was in the Air Force, but our daughter, Erin did follow me to Baylor and did study communication.
She had her Master’s in Communications and she was a TV director at KWTX TV in Waco. And then, she got married in Oklahoma. And was a TV director. And then she got tired of getting up at two in the morning because in TV, you know, you work one end of the clock or the other. I always worked at night. She always directed the morning news. So finally she got a job at the University of Oklahoma Medical School as a Baylor Bear working surrounded by the Philistines at OU!!
In Norman, it’s downtown by the capital. So she wound up being in charge of all online and on demand, programming for classes. But when she had her first, child 15 years ago, (our first grandchild), my wife said, you see you need to retire and take care of those kids. And so she did. So she does some work from home for some people, but she got off TV as well. So nobody else in TV in the family nowadays.
Paul: So sorry for your loss, may Dana rest in peace.
Well is there anything else you’d like to add to to this we haven’t talked
Troy: Thank you. And no, I think I’ve told you about everything I know and everyone I know!
Paul: When we first started talking about this, it was interesting because I’m from a little town about 10-15 miles west of Waco, and Troy’s from a little town 20-25 miles north of Waco. We were in the same district when I played football in high school. When we said ‘let’s go into the city’, we were talking about Waco, not Dallas.
Troy: Yes. Dallas was almost an overnight trip. In those days, it’s 60 miles. It was, the shops were open late one night in the big cities, so off and on Thursday we’d go down to Waco and have dinner at the Piccadilly cafeteria and go shopping at Cox’s!
Paul: Piccadilly’s downtown was an every Sunday after church for us. Got my fried fish and chocolate Ice Box pie there
Troy: Exactly. Then once in a while we’d come to Dallas as my dad owned a laundry, direct cleaning plant, so we would go north to buy supplies and we’d go to lunch and sometimes come to the Dallas Eagles or Fort Worth Cats baseball games in the summers.
So we enjoyed the cities. But yeah, Hillsboro was a great place to grow up. The school system was wonderful. Prepared me well for college. I still know a few people there, down there once in a while. Of course my parents are gone for a long time now, but it was a great place to grow up.
Paul: Yeah. Well, listen, thank you so much for all your time here.
It’s been really informational and I really appreciate it. Thank you so much.
Troy: My pleasure. Thank you for thinking of me, and I hope this works out well for your non-profit!
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I’m going to give you the unobstructed view of Tom Landry’s history as I know it, and this one is not from 30,000 feet. There is no sugarcoating here. I will stick to the facts, which is something I think Coach would have appreciated. Thanks to all the folks from Mission, Texas, and Dallas, Texas, the NFL, his players and opponents, the NFL Players Association, and all the news outlets that helped with this article, as well as the many members at Memories of Texas Football who contributed. Couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks to the sportswriters of the day, credited where I shared their thoughts. Thanks to all the Cowboys fans who contributed to the ‘Dallas Cowboys Timeline’ on MemInc.org website. ‘Memories of Texas Football’ on Facebook is part of that organization.
It was an interesting journey. Along the way I was able to clarify a lot of misconceptions and half-truths about Coach Landry, such as the fact that he was not terminated by the then-new owner Jerry Jones on a golf course in Austin, but rather that he got the news from Tex Schramm in the film room at Valley Ranch a short time earlier. I was able to substantiate or refute several claims that have grown into “facts” over the years. I thought it would be a good idea to find out the truths while many of the people involved were still alive. I’ll keep my opinions out of this project until the summary at the end of the piece.
Introduction
I worked in the same building as the old Cowboys’ headquarters back in the day so I ran into Coach Landry and a lot of the Cowboy players quite often. Tom and his wife Alicia came to our club several times for dinner and a show, as we had lots of folk from his era performing. Also, his daughter and I lived at the same complex. I was over at her apartment one day, not knowing who her dad was when he happened to show up. Boy oh boy, did he remember me. Not sure that he wanted someone who worked at the Playboy Club of Dallas around his baby girl! RIP Lisa. I also was a manager at nightclubs like Papagayo, da Vinci, and others that Cowboy players frequented. Tom and Alicia would show up for events like the WCT Finals, which gave me even more insight into the man that many claimed to be a “Saint” and others the “Plastic Man.” Of course, neither view is entirely accurate.
I’ve interviewed folks like All Pros Thomas “Hollywood” Henderson, Bob Breunig, Charley Waters, Jerry Rhome, and others who gave me bits and pieces of Tom Landry over the years. I called them specifically for this article to give me insight into who Tom Landry really was in their view. And a lot of thanks to legendary Dallas sportswriter Brad Sham, who really opened my eyes to not only the greatness of Landry, but also the warts. We all have them.
And now, on with the show!
Who was Tom Landry?
Tom Landry was born in tiny Mission, Texas, close to the Texas-Mexico border on September 11, 1924, His parents were working folks. His dad Ray was an auto mechanic and part-time volunteer fireman. He and Tom’s mom, Ruth, raised four kids: Tom, his older brother Robert (who will come into play a few years later), and his younger sister and brother, Ruthie and Jack.
Tom grew into an excellent athlete at Mission HS, leading his team to an undefeated record his senior year, winning Regional title, which was as far as smaller schools could go back then.
A very young Tom Landry in his Mission, Texas days, about 1937 or 38. Photo courtesy Mission Historical Museum, City of Mission, Texas
The 1939 Mission football team. Tom is #38 on the back row. The photo is courtesy of Cecil Albrecht whose Dad Don Albrecht is on the second row, third from left.
Tom had already decided on his college and was headed off to what probably seemed like the Far East, the Far East being Mississippi and Mississippi State University. He had a friend there, John Tripson, who was from Madero, just south of Mission. John was part of the 1936 Mission team that went undefeated, and he was doing well for MSU, where he was All SEC and then All American. He convinced Tom to join him.
However, the Landry family felt Mississippi was too far to drive to watch him play. Remember, this was the 30s/early 40s and transportation moved at a much slower pace. That was when Tom, after talking with his family, decided that University of Texas would be the place for him.
Tom, the Longhorn. Frat brothers photo ot Tom at UT, courtesy DKE
Tom enrolled at UT in the Fall of 1941 to study industrial engineering. He attended school on a scholarship to play football and was also on the swim team. However, a couple of events were about to change the direction of millions of people from around the world, including one that affected Tom directly. The newly-formed “Axis” powers created World War II, which engulfed most of the free world, including both the Pacific and European theaters. Tom’s brother Robert, who was three years his senior, had enlisted with the Army Air Force to be a Pilot. (FYI, the Army Air Corps had become the Army Air Force in June of 1941 and would evolve into the separate branch of the armed forces, the Air Force, in 1947.) Robert passed the pilot course with flying colors and started ferrying B-17s across the Atlantic to England. On one of those flights, his plane mysteriously exploded in mid-air over the Greenland Sea, off the coast of Iceland. Robert’s body was never recovered, and the family held an empty casket funeral back in South Texas.
Robert had been the outgoing, magnetic-personality brother. Tom was much more reserved and worshipped his brother. Losing him closed Tom off even more.
Tom decided to drop out of UT after his first semester and enlist in the Army Air Force. He began his basic training at Sheppard Field near Wichita Falls and then did his preflight training at Kelly Field near San Antonio. Later, he began training at Sioux City, Iowa, to become a B-17 co-pilot. In a preview of his future life, his plane engine died during his initial flight. He helped recover the plane and landed safely. This was a man that got used to extreme circumstances quickly.
A very young Tom Landry in his early days in the Army Air Force. Courtesy the Army Air Force History. Net
In 1944, he received his orders and was assigned to Eighth Air Force at Ipswich, England, just northeast of London. It has been erroneously reported that Landry flew 30 missions, his whole crew only flew 29 abd. I followed up and this is what I found. The following is from a conversation I had with Darren Jolley of the 493rd Bomb Group historical organization in England:
1944 – Tom flew a total of 26 missions. On the 24thof December, he was listed as NLD (i.e., Not in the Line of Duty), so probably a hangover, and again on the 23rd of January when pilot Lt Jesse P Jacobs flew his familiarization mission. The “familiarization” mission was to take a newly arrived pilot, fresh from training, on his first combat mission with an experienced crew. The new pilot would take the right hand seat, flying as the co-pilot, and would learn everything he could from the experienced crew around him… on his return, this valuable information would then be passed on to his own crew before they all flew their own first mission together.
Looking at the Record of Sorties, you can see that Pilot Kenneth Sainz flew his first mission, #87, which was his “familiarization” flight. He then flew his first mission with his crew starting with mission # 90, which was Tom’s first mission. Mission # 106 flown by Kenneth was the one where Tom was missing and newly-arrived pilot Lt Jacobs was taken on his first combat mission before taking his own crew into combat. So, Kenneth was able to pass on his own experience to another crew.
Tom Landry B17, 26 co-pilot missions. Courtesy Darren Jolley of the 493rd Bomb Group historical organization in England
Hence, Tom has 26 missions credited against the 29 of his pilot. The other mission was when Lt Kenneth Sainz flew his own familiarization mission, leaving Tom and the rest of his own crew on the ground.
(credit Darren Jolley of the 493rdBomb Group historical group in England)
Tom showed himself to be an excellent co-pilot, but his heart was not in flying either for the Army Air Force or even commercially. He had his heart set on becoming an engineer. However, he had gained a huge love of flying that would stay with him all of his life.
Tom Landry points to a map when he was a co-pilot on a B17 in WWII. Courtesy EBay
1946 – Tom returned to UT for the Fall semester. He quickly worked into the Longhorns rotation, playing fullback and defensive back. He was a big part of the bowl game winners from New Year’s Day games in 1948 and 1949. He was a member of the DKE fraternity at UT and got his bachelor’s degree in 1949. In the off season of his upcoming job, he planted himself in Houston to get his industrial engineering master’s degree from University of Houston in 1952.
courtesy The History of Longhorn Sports
In 1948, Landry was drafted by both the New York Yankees of the AAFC (All-America Football Conference) and by the New York Giants of the NFL. He played for the Yankees in the 1949 season. The AAFC folded after that season, and the Yankees were not absorbed by the NFL. The Giants selected Tom in the dispersal draft.
Tom’s Bowman football card from 1952, courtesy Comc.com
The Giants ran a 6-1-4 defense to combat the run-oriented teams of the time. Under the tutelage of the head coach Steve Owen, Tom would be called upon to explain to the other players how that defense worked. He was a coach-in-training, learning what each position had to do in any given situation.
1953 presented a different challenge as the Giants lost their first three games. They ended up 3-9, including giving up the second most points in franchise history in a 62-14 loss to the Cleveland Browns. Owen was fired that season.
1954 saw Landry being selected as an All Pro. Tom played through 1955 and was a player-coach for those last two years under new coach Jim Lee Howell. His football career ended with 32 interceptions in only 80 games, with 3 TDs. He also recovered 10 fumbles for 67 yds and 2 TDs. Tom’s title was Defensive Coordinator for 1954-55, while Vince Lombardi was the Offensive Coordinator. The Giants went to three championships between ‘56 and ‘59, winning it all in ‘56.
Tex Schramm and Tom Landry, 1960. Courtesy TSHA Handbook. Image available on the Internet and included in accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107.
1959 – Clint Murchison signs Don Meredith to a five-year personal service contract with his marine company, Tecon, to lock him up for the proposed Dallas Steers (yep, that was their original name) franchise. In November 1959, they also signed Don Perkins to a personal-services contract for a $1,500 bonus and a $10,000 salary
– The Steers name was changed to the Dallas Rangers after a short time.
– Murchison doesn’t have the votes against the powerful Redskins franchise that has the South locked up.
– Clint and Bedford Wynne find out “Hail to the Redskins” is not owned by Washington, and ‘in a nutshell,” purchase it and trade it to the Skins for their vote.
– The founding investors were Clint Murchison, Jr. (45%), John D. Murchison (45%), Toddie Lee and Bedford Wynne (Director and Secretary) (5%) and William R. Hawn (5%).
Tex Schramm, Bedford Wynne, Clint Murchison and Tom Landry Courtesy Twitter. This would be in 1960, Bedrord was a partial owner. He is Angus Wynne Jr’s brother. Toddie Lee Wynne was also part owner. Courtesy Dallas Cowboy Timeline
– Clint Murchison Jr. becomes the new team’s majority owner. His first order of business was to hire Tex Schramm as General Manager and Gil Brandt as Player Personnel Director
– December 22, 1959: Clint Murchison hires Tom Landry as Head Coach of the Dallas Steers.
Tom almost took a job with the new Houston group. However he said in an interview “Tex gave me what I wanted from the beginning, complete control of the football end — anything that had to do with the players other than signing them,”
“When I took the job in 1960, I wasn’t worried in the least, mainly because I didn’t plan to stay in football. I had earned a business degree at Texas and had just added a degree in industrial engineering at Houston. I felt it was just a matter of time before I found a good job.”
—Tom Landry, Sporting News, 8/15/81
Landry’s first season was the Cowboy’s first season, 1960. That year they recorded a 0-11-1 record, not exactly a monumental start, along with five or fewer wins in the next four seasons.
1960-64
A QUICK HISTORY: Before 1964, you could go to a Cowboys’ game and, in between sips from the flask, actually follow the plays. Then Landry, already known for his defensive wizardry from his days as assistant coach of the New York Giants, installed a new defense never before seen in football. A couple of the defensive linemen would get in this bizarre, four-point crouch, looking like frogs. A couple of other linemen would be backed off the line for no apparent reason; the linebackers would jump around like they had ants in their pants; the strong safety, who we thought was supposed to be back waiting for a pass, would suddenly show up right on the line of scrimmage, and everyone on the defense was shouting stuff to one another.
Then the ball would be snapped and, instead of the defensive players chasing after the runner, they would all head to specific, predetermined territories they were supposed to cover. We’d rise from our seats, alarmed. No one was attacking! No one was pursuing the runner! What is this? They’ve all gone crazy out there! Yet something very odd happened. It seemed no matter where the runner went, there stood some Cowboy waiting to make a tackle. This would happen play after play—and a great murmur would run through the stadium, as we’d all turn to one another asking what the hell was going on.
(Courtesy Skip Hollandsworth, August 1987, D Magazine)
Landry with diminutive quarterback Eddie LeBaron, 1960. Courtesy EBay
The early 60s were rough on Tom but he endured, then:
February 5, 1964: Clint Murchison signs Tom Landry to the longest contract in sports history, a ten-year agreement.
While those first few years were tough, the Cowboys improved to 7-7 in 1965. In 1966, they finally made it to the NFL Championship game but lost to the Green Bay Packers.
1972 – Finally, no longer the bridesmaid, on January 16, 1972, Cowboys win their first Superbowl, 24-3 over the Miami Dolphins in Superbowl VI
1978 – The Cowboys win Super Bowl XII against the Broncos.
Cowboys win it all… World Champions, finally!
As this is more about the individual journey of Landry, we are going to jump ahead to the years that were important. For more info on the year by year progress of Landry and the Cowboys, go to Memories of Texas Football, Dallas Cowboys Timeline https://meminc.org/cowboystimeline/
Landry and Staubach, courtesy Washington Times
The Super Bowl years are over. Enter the 1980s:
As the 1980s went on, it was not the greatest time for Coach Landry and the Cowboys as teams began to figure out his flex defense and his over- complicated offense. The NFC Championship in 1982 was the last time Landry would coach a playoff game; the prior week had been his last playoff win.
When Bum Bright bought the team in 1984, the Cowboys went from 10-6 in 1985 to 7-8 in 1987 and finally 3-13 in 1988. Bright was becoming quickly disillusioned with Landry and the team at that point. Public outcry to remove Landry grew to a tidal wave, Tom’s single-mindedness had left him totally exposed to the reality of the situation. For three years in a row, he said he was going to resign as Cowboys coach but reneged each year after Dallas spent millions of dollars to bring in replacements. It didn’t help that “Landry treated me like s**t.”
(Bum Bright quote)
1986 – In the Brad Sham book Stadium Stories, Tex Schramm says that, in the Spring of 1986, he, Bum Bright, and Landry agreed that Landry would retire at the end of the season. According to Tex, the NFL had moved past
“Stadium Stories” by Brad Sham, courtesy Brad Sham
Landry and he would not adapt. Paul Hackett was brought in from San Francisco as Offensive Coordinator to take over for Landry and revive the stagnating offense, installing the West Coast offense. As the year went on, Landry decided he didn’t like the changes and gradually took over the offense again, bringing back much of his old offense. At the end of the season, Landry did not retire, infuriating even his closest friend, Tex Schramm.
1987 – Landry once again said that this was his last year and that he would retire. Schramm intended to hire Marty Schottenheimer to replace Landry, and had him in town, looking at houses. But when Landry held a press conference, Schramm discovered that Landry was not quitting. Brad Sham notes, “Landry then decides, without telling anyone, he is not going to quit.” Still, Tex would not fire him. He, Gil, and Tom had been hired together, and he always felt that they would leave together.
Last year, you just got a taste of the unpleasantness to come. Remember what happened? The Cowboys were 6-2 at the midway point, looking good, and then, mostly due to a defense that went bust, they lost seven of their final eight games, finishing with their first losing season since 1964. The defense gave up 337 points last season, which ranked 18th in the NFL. They finished 10th in the league in yards allowed. The Cowboys’ defense, always the final proof of Landry’s brilliance, hadn’t looked this bad in two decades.
(Courtesy Skip Hollandsworth, August 1987, D Magazine)
“Our drafts weren’t super-spectacular anymore because everyone knew the same things our guys did. The Cowboys became just another team. And Tom had diminished capacities in his coaching; he was not the coach he was earlier. People that were brought in to help, like Paul Hackett, he shoved aside. He still did everything himself. He still only had the three main assistants. And he was still calling goal-line plays.”
(courtesy Russ Russell, the former Dallas Cowboys Weekly publisher.)
Landry had been like “a bankrupt baron sitting in a castle. The electricity was off. The furniture covered. The servants gone. But he still dressed for dinner every night.”
(Courtesy Dallas Morning News’s David Casstevens)
Coach Landry on a radio show with Frank Gleiber. Found in a box at SMU deGolyer Library, Paul Heckmann
1988 – Possibly Landry’s worst year since he began. He could no longer relate to the players, the NFL had long since figured out the flex defense, and his GM and owner had expected him to retire for the past two years. They go 3-13. Once again, he did not retire as promised to, arguably, his best friend, Tex Schramm.
Japanese investors came along in the latter part of 1988 and were rumored to be making plans to purchase the club and move it to Los Angeles as the Rams were about to move to St Louis. The Rams’ last season in LA was ‘89. Bright was having massive money problems at that time and Dallas almost lost the Cowboys. Jerry Jones had entered the picture not too long after and one might say that he rescued the Cowboys from leaving Dallas.
* * There are several news reports reporting the transition of the Cowboys so I’m copying them here, as they are stated. Some overlap each other in the time frame. For your perusal:
1989 – Team owner H.R. “Bum” Bright announced that the Cowboys had been sold to Jerry Jones, a longtime friend of (Jimmy) Johnson. Bright said Jones, 46, of Little Rock, Ark., “will be the most enthusiastic owner that the Cowboys have ever had.” Announcement of the sale, rumored since Thursday, came at a news conference at the Cowboys’ headquarters at Valley Ranch, about 25 miles northeast of Dallas.
“He is as square as a graham cracker, he will do exactly what he says he will….I think the group out here is in the best hands it can be in,” Bright said of Jones. “He is going to be enthusiastic, he’s going to be interesting, he’s going to be aggressive. He’s going to do what the Cowboys need to do to be in the position they have been in the past few years.”
After Bright’s opening remarks, Jones said that Johnson will be the Cowboys’ head coach, effective intermediately. “The man that is going to be with the Cowboys is Jimmy Johnson. He is going to be the heart and the soul of the Cowboys. The greatest thing that is going to ever happen to the Cowboys is Jimmy Johnson,” Jones said.
Dallas Mavericks owner Donald Carter, himself a serious bidder for the Cowboys, said he thought he was in the thick of things a week ago, “but something happened.”
Of Jones, Carter said, “I don’t know much about him, but from what I saw tonight, I’m impressed.”
1989 – Dale Hansen, the famed sports anchor for WFAA, Channel 8, was speaking at a banquet when the (Scott Murray on a competing station) promo aired. WFAA’s news director saw it and called Hansen back to the station to try to nail down the story.
Hansen immediately called Schramm. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Schramm said.
“C’mon, Tex, I’m your guy.”
“There’s no story there, Dale. There’s nothing to it.”
“I’ll call you back after the report,” Hansen told him.
“I’ll wait for your call.”
Murray’s report at ten o’clock detailed that Jones was buying the team and that Landry was going to be fired.
Hansen called Schramm back.
“Our young boy in Fort Worth has just f—ed up his entire career,” Schramm said. “That stupid f—er has made the biggest mistake of his career. He’s f—ing dead.”
“The report sounded credible,” Hansen allowed.
Schramm shot back, “Do you really think they’d sell the Cowboys and I wouldn’t f—in’ know about it?”
But Bum Bright had done exactly that.
“Bright wanted Schramm and Landry to be stuck just like they were,” Hansen said later. “He revelled in it. He called me bragging about it: ‘Schramm spent more of my money buying goddamn houses for his girlfriends, and that son of a bitch Landry treated me like s**t. To hell with both of them.’”
That afternoon, Tom Landry was at the Cowboys’ headquarters, Valley Ranch, watching game film with Jerry Rhome, a newly-hired assistant coach, when (Tex) Schramm stuck his head in the door and told the coach he needed to talk to him outside. Landry walked out, returned a few minutes later, and said nothing. He turned on the film again. A couple of minutes later, Rhome looked over at Landry and saw tears in his eyes. “You’re a fine young coach, and I’m sorry I got you into this,” Landry told him, “but they just fired me.” He wished Rhome well and left. *
(courtesy Dallas Morning News and WFAA TV)
(Jerry Rhome would stay on and tutor the future Hall of Fame Quarterback Troy Aikman. I had just interviewed Jerry for our Facebook group, ‘Memories of Football in Texas’ when I ran across that last tidbit. So I picked up the phone and asked him about that moment that Tom came back into the room from talking with Tex Schramm. He remembered it well.)
“We were sitting there going through procedures, film study and all the things coaches talk about. I remember Tex sticking his head into the film room and calling Tom out into the hallway. After a few minutes Tom came back in and said, ‘Well, they just fired me.’ And that was that.”
(Jerry was the first non-participant to hear the news. And onto the “official” firing news. At this point it appeared that Landry left Valley Ranch and headed to the airport so he could fly down to Austin to play golf and did not wait to speak to Jerry Jones.)
Brad Sham: “So, Bum Bright says to Jerry Jones, ‘I’ll fire him for you.’ And Jerry says ‘No, no, I’m going to fly down and tell him face to face.’ Well, people don’t want to hear that, because that doesn’t make Jerry a villain.”
Bright says he had wanted to sack Tom Landry in 1987 but couldn’t talk Tex Schramm into doing it. Bright said Schramm realized the Cowboys were skidding downhill fast. “Something needed to be done,” Bright said.
“A new direction was needed on the coaching staff from Tom on down. But despite the fact he appears gruff at times, Tex is a sentimentalist. He didn’t have the stomach to do what needed to be done.” Besides, “Schramm said he didn’t have a replacement ready.”
Jones continues to take criticism for firing Landry and installing Jimmy Johnson, his longtime friend and former Arkansas Razorbacks teammate, as head coach, but Bright said Jones may be getting a bad rap about having fired Landry in a cold-hearted fashion. He said Jones had insisted, two days before a news conference to announce the team’s sale and coaching changes, that there would be no deal until he personally talked to Landry.
March 1989, courtesy of Sports Illustrated
On Friday, the day before the deal was finalized, Schramm joined Bright and Jones at Bright’s offices, and Schramm called in Landry to inform him that Jones was bringing in his own coach, Bright said.
Bright also said later, a year after selling the Cowboys, that not firing Landry himself was one of his biggest regrets in life. “If I had known there would have been this much heat over Tom, I’d have taken it myself,” Bright said in the Dallas Morning News. “I know that Jerry doesn’t deserve all this stuff. It wouldn’t have been as hard for me as it has been for Jerry, because he was the one continuing. I just didn’t realize.”
Bright then suggested to Jones that Schramm should be the one to officially tell Landry what was going on. The coach had already seen the photograph of Jones and Johnson dining at Mia’s on the front page of Saturday’s Morning News and had left Dallas, piloting his family in their Cessna 210 from Love Field to their golf-course home by the Lakeway resort, west of Austin.
Jones disagreed. “I have to face him,” he said firmly. “I can’t do this unless I face him personally.” He couldn’t do business without manning up.
That afternoon, Jones and Schramm flew in Jones’s Lear 35A to Robert Mueller Municipal Airport, in Austin, where they rented a car and drove to Lakeway. Schramm had called ahead to give Landry a heads-up: they needed to talk about the future. They found Coach and son practicing their putts at the Hidden Hills golf course in the waning light. The group retreated to an empty sales office.
Jones introduced himself to Landry, informing him, “I’m here and so is Jimmy.” It was Jones’s clumsy way of saying Johnson was in and Landry was out.
“You could have saved your plane trip down here,” Landry replied. “You could have handled this whole thing a lot better. This whole thing is just a bunch of grandstand tactics. You could have saved your gas.” His blue eyes burned holes into the Arkansan’s skull. “You’ve taken my team away from me,” he said.
It was over. No recourse, no appeal, no nada. Landry and Schramm shook hands, both with tears streaming down their cheeks. The dynasty they had built was no longer theirs. Jones later acknowledged that the meeting had not gone the way he had imagined. “I was basically just trying to say something you just can’t say,” he admitted. And he hadn’t said anything very well. He claimed it was the first time he’d ever fired a key employee face-to-face. Before, he’d let others do it for him.
(Courtesy Joe Nick Patoski, October 2012, Texas Monthly, Adapted from the book The Dallas Cowboys, by Joe Nick Patoski.)
Jones offered Landry a consulting position with the Cowboys which Landry turned down.
“It was a very difficult meeting, difficult and sad,” said Schramm, who will retain his role with the Cowboys. “It’s tough when you break a relationship that you have had for 29 years. But I am glad the ownership problem has been cleared up. It’s good for the ballclub.”…
The Actual Purchase
Jerry Jones: “Our agreement on the purchase of the Dallas Cowboys was finalized with a few notes on a napkin and a handshake,” Jones said in a statement. “With Bum, his word meant everything….” on Bum Bright
While Jones will be the majority partner, there will be five minority owners, including Ed Smith of Houston, who had 27% under Bright’s ownership. The other minority owners include Charles Wily, Sam Wily and Evan Wily.
Shortly before the news conference, Smith confirmed to the Associated Press that Landry was out. “It’s a sad deal, and Tom Landry and Tex Schramm were the only reasons I got into owning some of the Cowboys’ stock,” Smith said. “Tom should have gotten out two or three years ago. We shouldn’t have had to tell him to get out. But what are you going to do when you only have 38,000 people showing up at the stadium and you are losing hard cash?” Smith asked. “Tom just had to go, and we shouldn’t have had to tell him.”
Smith said Jones “will build an excellent team and organization here. I want to tell you, this is one class guy. He went all the way to Austin to tell Landry first hand, and he didn’t have to do that.”
Tom ended his professional career with a record of 297 wins, 185 losses and 9 ties, a 61.43% winning record. He was 22-18 in playoff wins vs. losses with his last game, a loss, coming in 1982. Landry won the NFL’s Coach of the Year award in 1966 after guiding the Cowboys to a 10-3-1 record and a berth in the playoffs. As the head coach of the Dallas Cowboys, he coached three players to award-winning seasons: Calvin Hill, AP Offensive Rookie of the Year in 1969; Harvey Martin, AP Defensive Player of the Year in 1977; Tony Dorsett, AP Offensive Rookie of the Year in 1977.
In 1990 Coach Landry was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He traveled a lot with Alicia. Also did a lot of work with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (“FCA”).
Landry was diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia in May of 2000 and underwent chemotherapy treatments in May and November. He was released Nov. 21 but returned to the hospital in Jan 2000. He was with his family when he died on Feb 12, 2000.
What did his players/coaches/NFL folk think of Coach Landry?
Bob Breunig
Paul, you wanted to speak about Tom Landry. And I can just say a few things on this. He’s one of the greatest men you could ever meet. I remember when I was drafted by the Cowboys. I was told by the many scouts across the country I’d be taken in the first round, and I wasn’t.
And then the second round came and went and I wasn’t drafted, but the third round came and I was drafted by the Cowboys. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, just to be able to come to the Cowboys and be in three Super Bowls in the next four years, but mostly because we were under the tutelage of Tom Landry, just a great, great man, and a great coach.
We arrived at 21, 22 years old, the dirty dozen year 1975. And so the timing was just great to be able to be under his leadership. His flex defense concepts—I mean, they’re one of a kind in the National Football League and really were outstanding. People gave him a ton of credit for being on offense and the creativeness on the offensive side, but the defense was equally as creative and like none other in the NFL.
So it was pretty cool on Wednesday morning when he would come in and address the defensive team and give us the game plan for the week after he spent two or three days thinking about the next team that we’re going to be playing. You know, I think in those days we had 14 games and then we went to 16 games (later). Every Wednesday morning, he’d walk into the defensive game room. The whole defense would be in there and he would deliver the game plan for the week. Whoever we were playing, he had been working on it for two or three days and he was ready to give the game plan, what the defense would do against the next opponent.
It’s pretty neat being under his watch for 10 years and to be in his midst. We had a lot of great teams, went to six NFC championships and three Super Bowls. Our age group caught him, I think, at his prime. He was a great, great man.
And I think mostly it was that he was a Christian man and was not afraid to say so and he encouraged me a lot. I think of many others in their Christian faith along the way, but he was very careful about how he did that, but in a good way.
(Bob Breunig, All Pro Linebacker – Dallas Cowboys, courtesy of interview with Paul Heckmann)
Duane Thomas
…the first inkling management had of what would soon be known in polite circles as “the Duane Thomas Problem”was when Duane called a press conference and described coach Tom Landry as “a plastic man, actually no man at all.” Gil Brandt was branded “a liar.” Duane put down club president Tex Schramm as a man who was “sick, demented and completely dishonest,” to which Schramm replied good naturedly, “That’s not bad. He got two out of three.”
“Tom Landry’s attitude was one of bewilderment (re:Duane),” said Al Ward. “Tom couldn’t believe that the boy couldn’t be reached and helped. What a crime to see all that talent go to waste. Tom would just shake his head and say, ‘Why couldn’t I reach him? Where did I fail?’ ”
Coach Landry was, well, he dove into things completely. As far as taking on a player that has potential, he would take them on and really teach them properly the way to go, especially with a player that had some potential and was kind of wavering a little bit.
Yes, sir. And he was a genius in that regard. He was a genius, period about calculations and the way to stop offensive plays. He was also a genius at how he handled people. He brought out the very best in most everybody. Thomas Henderson, of course, you know, he was a great athlete, but Thomas was kind of a spoiled brat kind of guy, you know? Landry eventually got the best out of him, turned him into an All Pro.
Thomas was a great example, but there were also guys that were kind of timid who complained they would take on more (per Landry) and then they would be more forceful. There were a lot of players who had a lot of great athleticism and were not using it fully to their advantage. Coach Landry would figure out a way to bring that out in them.
He would put them on the spot and see if they would respond. And if they didn’t respond the right way, then he would show them. He was a teacher. If they did respond, he wouldn’t gloat in it, he would just give the guy a lot more responsibility.
Charlie Waters in his All Pro days. Courtesy Clemson University
That’s the way he trained players. He was just a genius. That’s the way he sold his system to us. You know, we’re the only team in the league that ran the flex defense. It’s goofy as hell.
Paul: I heard it called a lot of things, but not goofy.
Charlie: Well, there’s usually a lot of cussing involved, the down linemen with their very funny stance for the tackle that was “froglike.” Two hands down on the ground, butt up in the air. I think Ernie Stautner kind of summed it up later on when he said he’d been working it for three decades and he still doesn’t get it.
Paul: I know Coach Landry loved the way you played though. He said “If I had 45 players that tried as hard and cared as much as Charlie did, we would not lose a football game.”
Charlie: Yeah, he said something like that, didn’t he? Yeah, that’s quite a compliment. He didn’t compliment many people. He saw himself in me. He was a quarterback in college. I was a quarterback in college.
And so with me, he felt like I was a defensive back and I’m going, what? I’ve never run backwards in my life. I’ve never made a high tackle. And he was right. You know, he was right once again. I was a defensive back and I didn’t know it. He saw the quality you had, you know what I mean?
Thanks for doing this, Paul. Coach Landry was a very smart man. I mean he was a pilot in WWII. You gotta be smart to do that! He was a genius.
Good luck with this.
(Charlie Waters, All Pro Safety – Dallas Cowboys, courtesy an interview with Paul Heckmann)
Jerry Rhome
Jerry Rhome: He was about as funny as… well, you know…he was dry. And very serious all the time, serious. The greatest example of that is my first year after we came back from training camp. He called all the quarterbacks in one at a time to talk to us about our future and what he wanted us to work on during the summer, and where we are on the football team. So, we had our little talk, and he said, “Tell so and so to come in.” I said, “Coach, can I tell you something?” He said, “Of course,” and I said, “Coach, you’re a good coach, but you’re behind the times.”
Tom Landry and Don Meredith in the 1960s. Courtesy True Blue
Paul Heckmann: What was his reply?
Jerry Rhome: Well, he just looked at me. I said, “You’re being passed by. They all are throwing the ball and running and stretching their offenses out and running three receivers and one back.” I said, “You are strictly a two-receiver, two-back guy and the quarterback out of the center.” He finally decided to change about two or three years later. But when I said it to him, he said, “When you get your team, you can do it your way.” I said, “Coach, I’m sorry. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut.” He said, “No, I like a young man that’s not afraid to step up.” And I said, “Well, I’m going to step up.” He said, “What now?” I said, “If you want me to get on the board and draw up some formations, I would love to do that.” He said, “I think I can wait on that one.”
(Courtesy our interview with Jerry Rhome by Paul Heckmann)
Sam Huff
In his autobiography Tough Stuff, Sam Huff wrote of Landry: “His theory was, don’t expect me to pat you on the back and tell you what a great job you did. You’re a pro, we expect you to do a good job, that’s what we pay you for… If you watch him on the sidelines, when a guy scores a touchdown, or kicks a field goal, or makes a big play on defense, he never even looks at him coming off the field.”
Bob was the former Cowboys kicking coach and took Tom Landry to Europe to scout Tony Fritsch among others when the new soccer style kicking was taking the NFL by storm
Dad didn’t think much of Landry. Landry was extremely bland and dad was full of piss and vinegar. Not a good mix.
(Bob Kap, Dallas Cowboys Kicking Coach (Kapoustin) RIP, Courtesy phone conversation with Mike Kapoustin, Bob’s son)
Danny White
If (Danny) White seemed somewhat mysterious to the players, he was going through enough troubles of his own trying to figure out his coach. Tom Landry’s stoic, inscrutable presence on the sideline has become a cherished part of sports folklore. Yet that image has held other meanings for Landry’s players. In his first four years on the team, White had only one conversation with Landry that touched on subjects other than technical parts of the game. Landry kept an arm’s length away from his quarterback; he never talked to him about desire or dedication. “If you wanted to look at your coach as a kind of father figure,” says White, “this was definitely not the place to do it.”
Landry believed that a head coach “simply can’t have close feelings toward his players. It’s unfortunate, but I can’t have a personal relationship with any of them because my decisions have to be based on what’s best for the team.” White says that he (Landry) and Staubach, the player Landry has liked most in all his years of coaching, weren’t that close when Staubach was playing. “What I try to do with a quarterback,” Landry says, “is work with him enough on the details of the game plans and so, on that, he can become an extension of my mind.” But not necessarily an extension of his heart – which is what plagued Danny White.
If White made a good play, Landry rarely said anything. “Once in a while,” says White, “if I was walking past him right after the play, he would say, ‘Okay, way-to-go,’ real fast, as if it were all one word.” It wasn’t that White needed constant praise, but he did want to know where he stood. How did someone win Landry’s favor? “I always wondered what he was thinking,” White says. “Was he behind me? Did he think I should do this better or work on something else? Why was he holding back? When you play for someone for thirteen years and in all that time have only a half-dozen personal conversations with him, then that circulates through your head. I’ve had a lot of time to observe him. But I don’t think he knows me well, not nearly as well as I know him.”
Credit to Mark Ribowsky, The Last Cowboy: A Life of Tom Landry
Thomas “Hollywood” Henderson
Paul: I know you had your good days and bad days with Coach Landry. Can you tell me a little about your time or a special moment with Coach Landry?
Thomas:I showed up at training camp as a rookie, and I just did what I was told. One of the earliest memories I have of him is that we used to run this mountain in Thousand Oaks. And here he comes. Running like Chester from
Gunsmoke. He had this funny gait. And he runs past me and he says, ‘You’re not going to let me beat you, are you?’ He does his Chester, Marshall Dillon run on me. And that was the first thing he said to me.
Thomas Henderson’s book “Out of Control”, courtesy Thomas Henderson
I didn’t take his flex defense to heart until I got into my third season. I finally realized that I couldn’t do what I wanted to do. But once I learned the flex, Pro Bowl and all conference and my own personal honors came.
So, the incident that got me fired from the Cowboys, well Paul, people don’t know the story, so I’m gonna tell you for the first time.
The story was, Preston Pearson had a rally towel (he was selling). He had played for the Steelers, and so he was trying to promote a rally towel during the Redskins game, so he gave me a towel. I’m gonna make sure they know about the towel, too. I’m on the sideline and Jerry Tubbs runs up to me, gets in my face, says, “You know, you can’t do that when we’re losing. Why are you over there mugging for the camera?” I didn’t expect Preston to come to my defense, but I sort of told Jerry Tubbs where to go.
Nobody knows to this day that I was doing a favor for a teammate. Nobody came to my defense, not even Preston. Landry called me into his office the next day and that meeting went awful. Oh, wow, I cursed at him I told him to ‘Go f himself.’ To this day, I don’t think he was gonna fire me, but my attitude gave him the rope to hang me with. And that’s why I left Dallas.
So let’s go to 1993 when I was over 10 years sober. I invited Coach Landry to my 10-year celebration (in NA/AA). He did not confirm. He wouldn’t answer my emails. Wouldn’t answer my calls. But he showed up. And so Tom Landry helped me celebrate my first 10 years in recovery. When he got to the podium—my college coach and my college position coach had already spoken—and the first thing (Landry) said into the microphone was, “Boy, if I’d have known that, (he laughs) I never would have drafted him!” ‘Cause they were telling funny stories. He learned later that I had drug problems. Being the man that he is, it’s easy to know him that day. He would have helped me rather than kick me out. You get that? Oh yeah, that’s saying a lot for him, isn’t it?
(courtesy my phone interview with Thomas Henderson, All Pro Linebacker Dallas Cowboys)
And finally my opinion, my take on what I’ve dug up. Just as I expected, I found Landry wasn’t a saint, but he certainly wasn’t the devil. He was different things to different people. He was hard to get a read on for most and never really hit it off in a big way with any of the staff, players, or owners that he worked for during his years on the field.
I cannot imagine working for someone and hearing this, “Landry treated me like s**t” (owner Bum Bright). Or getting in a plane and leaving instead of staying to talk to Jerry Jones after GM Tex Schramm gave him the bad news that he had been fired in that film room at Valley Ranch. I wonder what would have happened if he had made a stand and demanded that he stay. Instead, he made Jerry Jones chase him down on a golf course two hundred miles away to try to keep him as an Advisor with the Cowboys. It also makes me wonder if he was ready to leave the NFL at that time.
Without a doubt, the game had passed him by. He was no longer relatable to the game or to the new age of players. It had been time to go for several years. We heard that from too many of the folks above. I remember all the sports pages in the mid-to-later ‘80s saying the same thing.
And in a strange turn of events, with all the talk about loyalty, the week before Landry was fired, Landry fired his best friend left on the coaching staff, Ernie Stautner, who had been with him for 22 years. Loyalty… a two-edged sword.
On the other hand, Landry brought us 2 NFL championships and about a decade-and-a-half of excellent football. On the field, he was revered as a good man by many who played for him, put up with by others, very few with negative things to say about the man. But to a man, no one was able to get to know Landry himself during his Cowboy years. It must have been lonely for Coach Landry.
I suspect that a lot of the good will toward Landry comes from his later years, post football, when he was so involved in Fellowship of Christian Athletes. He was a solid speaker and his belief was stout. I feel like he really opened up to nearly everyone after he left the game. In retrospect, I think at this point in his life, leaving the game was probably the best thing that could have happened to him.
1984, Tom with wife Alicia and daughter Kitty. Courtesy Texas Monthly
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As far as this story goes, I think this quote from the great Dallas Sportswriter Brad Sham is the best way to wrap it up:
“There is no right way to fire Tom Landry. Yet it was what everybody wanted done, and what everybody agreed had to happen. They just wanted him to step away gracefully, but he didn’t want to. The great irony to me is that is what he did with his players. He intentionally did not have close personal relationships with most of his players while he was playing because he knew there would be a day when he would have to cut them. And all of his players, 85-90%, didn’t like him when they played for him. But they looked back after they played for him, and said “Wow.” He cared about them deeply, but felt, this is the way I have to run this business. Then it happened to him, and he didn’t like it.”
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Tom Landry and The End of the Landry Era
