Still Singing A Rainbow

Sipping scotch and shooting the breeze with children's TV legend Dear Old Captain Noah

by Shaun Brady

	print	email	reply

Published: Sep 10, 2008

Michael T. Regan

"Red and yellow, pink and green, purple and orange and blue…"

Several generations of Philadelphia ex-children have already completed the above lyrics to "Sing a Rainbow" in their heads (and most have likely continued on with a quick chorus of "Send Your Pictures to Dear Old Captain Noah" to boot).

For 27 years, from Johnson to Clinton, Captain Noah and His Magical Ark was a Philly institution, greeting bleary-eyed, pajama-clad children over sugary cereal — singing songs, telling stories, showing cartoons and inciting the kiddies to mail off their crayon-scrawled artwork with a chance for blink-and-you'll-miss-it TV exposure. The show introduced both the Phillie Phanatic and Jon Stewart to the world, and provided a forum for everything from the Flower Show to the Kutztown Folk Festival to Cowtown Rodeo.

The Ark has been in drydock now for 14 years and will soon be on display, along with puppets, props and costumes, when the new Please Touch Museum opens next month. But the Captain has yet to hang up his cap and uniform for good.

"I hope that we're the same as you remember us," says W. Carter Merbreier, and it's admittedly difficult to find the divide where Merbreier ends and Captain Noah begins. During the show's run, Merbreier says, "We tried to get home at 3 o'clock, take a nap, get up and have a drink. That was our line of demarcation. After that it was Pat and Carter, husband and wife. No business at home."

But walking around the Merbreiers' split-level Gladwyne home, the family business intrudes almost everywhere. The house is equal parts cozy retirement den and children's show set, with family pictures sharing wall space with Pat's collection of Mrs. Noah hats and the upstairs hallway dominated by a carousel horse. Merbreier's collection of antique spirit barrels lines one wall, opposite one filled with framed pictures from the show and autographed glossies from Jim Henson and Elvis Presley, whom Merbreier met during his stint as Philadelphia police chaplain. And on one wall of their bedroom, just across from a small bar (the Captain describes himself as "a Scotch man"), is mounted a selection of those pictures sent in over the years to Dear Old Captain Noah.

The Captain was born in 1967, after a call went out for any interested party to assume a morning time slot accorded to the Philadelphia Council of Churches after the previous host was killed in a car accident. "When people found out you had to provide all the props, you had to do all the research, and you got nothing for it," Merbreier says, "I think we were the only applicants. But as I've said a thousand times, every good thing that's happened to me in my life is a direct result of doing something for which I expected no reward."

After three years, a larger time slot beckoned and the Ark became a less overtly denominational show, though Merbreier says that the only real change was ensuring that his Bible stories came from the Old rather than the New Testament.

"In those days we didn't have to worry whether we were insulting the Muslims," he says. "We couldn't be blatantly religious, but by the same token we could be highly moral, and we were. To be inspirational you don't have to be religiously hard-sell."

At the time, Merbreier was a Lutheran minister based at what he calls a "ghetto parish" at Broad and Mount Vernon streets. That background made him less tolerant of certain other kids' shows, growling that "I used to get so mad at that show that was supposed to be so good that PBS put out with the yellow bird" — Sesame Street. "They had a Grouch that came out of a trash can. To the kids I ministered to, rats came out of trash cans, not funny-looking monsters."

Merbreier pointedly uses the term "ministered" when describing his role as Captain Noah, always regarding the show as an extension of his church work. Unfortunately the church itself didn't see things the same way, and he was defrocked.

"That's probably the saddest thing that ever happened to me," Merbreier says. "All those years ago, my show was too far out for them to think of it as a tent ministry. I was so hurt and angry that the church didn't take advantage of that opportunity and demeaned what I felt was my calling."

Though there was a time when attending church was difficult, Merbreier says, the incident hasn't affected his faith. "Sure, I was soured a little. I felt betrayed. But the church doesn't belong to the Lutherans or to a bishop or to a committee of deans. It belonged to him whom I served at the time and still do."

The Merbreiers went on to log roughly 3,600 shows over 27 years — only about 25 of which still exist in their entirety. The Captain also made innumerable personal appearances at parades, store openings and charity events, all of which put him face to face with his audience. "The main advantage of the show was that kids had the opportunity to see and touch and feel Captain Noah. He wasn't just a Japanese cartoon character on Saturday mornings, he was a real person. God only knows — and he's the only one who knows — how much help we were to children and people whose lives we were able to touch as Captain Noah."

"We're in our 80s," Merbreier says now, "and I'm held together with chewing gum, baling wire, batteries, my own blood vessels, and pieces left over from pigs and calves." That last is a reference to his two-year-old heart surgery, but the Captain is certainly in good spirits these days, obviously proud that the Please Touch will maintain his legacy.

In person, Merbreier is a saltier dog than the jovial Captain who entered his Ark via sliding board. He gregariously spins yarns about excoriating a cameraman for helping up Flower Show impresario Ed Lindemann from a crashed scooter rather than capturing it on film, and playing pranks on WPVI organist Larry Ferrari, even beyond the grave — Merbreier removed a flower arrangement reading "We miss you Daddy" from a plot neighboring Ferrari's at Laurel Hill Cemetery, so that "his aging fans are still trying to figure out how this lifelong bachelor had a family."

Then there was the infamous Preston & Steve incident, when Merbreier hinted at Mrs. Noah's extracurricular activities under the table while she was operating the garbage-eating puppet Mumwa.

Of course, that Captain will not be the one enshrined at the Please Touch. Kids who tour the museum's "City Capers" exhibit will get to play at filming their own shows in a TV studio setup containing the Magical Ark set, rescued by museum president and CEO Nancy Kolb, a longtime guest on the show, after the studio had threatened to dispose of it. "If it wasn't for her," Merbreier says, "it would be mish-mash under some forgotten dump somewhere."

"This is part of Nancy's folly," Kolb says of the set, a category that also contains Wanamaker's monorail, the Enchanted Colonial Village from Lit's and the Woodside Park carousel. "Noah fit within a collecting category we're very serious about, which is childhood icons in Philadelphia."

Behind the Merbreiers' house is an expansive garden, riddled with sight gags (a door to nowhere, a literal fork in the road) and explanatory signs, as if waiting for a tour group to arrive. A statue stands near the house of a group of children climbing a ladder into the sky. Strolling through the garden, Merbreier pauses, leans on his walking stick and stares at the piece for a moment.

"Reaching for the stars," he says in a hushed tone, that familiar Captain Noah twinkle in his eye. "That's what it was all about."

(s_brady@citypaper.net)

Captain Noah and His Magical Ark is a permanent part of the "City Capers" exhibit. The Please Touch Museum at Memorial Hall opens Sat., Oct. 18, 4231 Avenue of the Republic, 215-581-3181, pleasetouchmuseum.org.

All reader comments are subject to our Terms of Use. By clicking Post Comment, you acknowledge that you have reviewed and agree to these Terms.

Name	please enter your name
Email (will not be published)	please enter a valid email
Comment	please enter a comment
Enter the security code on the right in the textbox below.
Security Code	please enter the code
	Join the City Paper Mailing List

CP 2008 Fall Guide
Kids in the Hall
The Genre Jumper
Ink, Sweat and Tears
Classical Calendar
Dance Calendar
Jazz Calendar
Opera Calendar
Rock/Pop Calendar
Roots Calendar
Theater Calendar
Visual Art Calendar