The Washington Post - USA (2021-10-27)

(Antfer) #1

B6 EZ SU THE WASHINGTON POST.WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27 , 2021


obituaries


BY JOHN OTIS

Mort Sahl, the comic whose
caustic and fearlessly observant
routines about Cold War politics
in the button-down 1950s trans-
formed American comedy and
paved the way for generations of
acid-witted humorists, not least
Jon Stewart and Bill Maher, died
Oct. 26 at his home in Mill Valley,
Calif. He was 94.
His friend Lucy Mercer con-
firmed the death but did not cite
an immediate cause.
Before Mr. Sahl, wisecracks
about government and Washing-
ton were little more than glib
asides with no attempt at the
jugular. For the most part, co-
medians avoided topics that
might alienate escapist-minded
radio, TV and nightclub audienc-
es and stuck to safer material
about mothers-in-law or nagging
spouses.
By contrast, Mr. Sahl dove
headfirst into the divisive politics
and tumult of his time — from the
nuclear arms race to segregation
— with erudite outrage, a finely
tuned sense of the absurd and a
high tolerance for risk. Referring
to his more genial comic forebear,
Time magazine described him in
a 1960 cover story as “Will Rogers
with fangs.”
Mr. Sahl developed a trade-
mark look — a V-neck sweater
and loafers, befitting a graduate
student — and he carried onstage
the rolled-up newspapers whose
headlines he had plundered for
inspiration. Having honed his
style in seedy San Francisco bars
and coffeehouses, he riffed in
knowing argot about presidential
politics, Cold War paranoia, insti-
tutionalized religion and neurot-
ic relationships between the sex-
es.
During the height of Sen. Jo-
seph McCarthy’s anti-communist
witch hunts, which ensnared nu-
merous entertainment figures,
among ot her targets, Mr. Sahl
took the position that “McCarthy
doesn’t question what you say as
much as your right to say it.”
He painted President Dwight
D. Eisenhower as a blandly avun-
cular, distracted, golf-obsessed
leader. Amid the 1957 racial inte-
gration showdown in Little Rock,
Mr. Sahl joked that Eisenhower
considered walking a Black girl to
school but could not decide
“whether or not to use an overlap-
ping grip.”
He mocked talk of the “missile
gap” during the 1960 presidential
campaign, wryly jesting, “Maybe
the Russians will steal all our
secrets, then they’ll be three years
behind.” And he spoke facetiously
in favor of capital punishment,
observing, “You’ve got to execute
people. How else are they gonna
learn?”
With more sophistication than
a string of staccato one-liners, his
jokes formed a free-flowing nar-
rative punctuated by references
to political and diplomatic lead-


ers including Secretary of State
Christian A. Herter, Cold War hot
spots such as Malta and Pakistan,
and legislation such as the Taft-
Hartley Act.
In one discursive story about
Eisenhower’s travels abroad, Mr.
Sahl said that White House press
secretary James C. Hagerty grew
testy when reporters asked when
the president might visit Russia.
“Hagerty was quoted as saying,
‘Don’t ask me, I’m not God,’ ” M r.
Sahl said. “Somewhat out of pro-
portion to the question.”
In “Seriously Funny,” a book
about rebel comics of the 1950s
and 1960s, Gerald Nachman ex-
plored the novelty of Mr. Sahl’s
intellectual, explanatory style
and his Ivy League wardrobe.
“Pre-Sahl was a time in which
comedians, clad like bandleaders
in spats and tuxes, announced
themselves by their brash, any-
thing-for-a-laugh, charred-earth
policy and by-the-jokebook gags,”
Nachman wrote. “Sahl chal-
lenged and changed all that sim-
ply by the comic device of being
himself and speaking his mind
onstage.”
At the end of his shows, Mr.
Sahl would ask, “Is there anyone
here I haven’t offended?”
Playboy magazine publisher
Hugh Hefner became an admirer
of Mr. Sahl’s humor and promot-
ed him as an exemplar of cool
sophistication. The comedian
performed on Broadway and in

Playboy Clubs, acted in films,
recorded popular comedy albums
and appeared on a bevy of late-
night and other comedy shows.
He was regarded as a pathfind-
er for the more topical, personal
or of fbeat styles honed by Lenny
Bruce, Bob Newhart, Mike Nich-
ols, Dick Gregory, George Carlin,
Joan Rivers and Mark Russell.
In 1954, a 19-year-old Woody
Allen saw Mr. Sahl perform at a
New York nightclub and for years
mimicked his delivery style. “He
was the best thing I ever sa w,”
Allen once said. “He was like
Charlie Parker in jazz.... He
totally restructured comedy.”
Behind Mr. Sahl’s humor lay a
deep concern for American de-
mocracy, and his onstage probing
was the antithesis of the cheap
laugh. He sometimes warmed up
crowds for his friend Dave
Brubeck, but the jazz pianist com-
plained that “he demands so
much of an audience that it hasn’t
the strength for anyone else.”
His high-minded material it-
self invited satire. In the early
1970s, Carlin portrayed a manic
Mr. Sahl uncorking a ludicrous
rant about the Arab League, stu-
dent riots in Japan, Eisenhower
watching a movie in Manila and
the role of Asian religions in
ecclesiastical history.
By then, Mr. Sahl’s career had
fallen into decline, a development
owed almost wholly to his non-
stop ribbing of President John F.

Kennedy and his obsession with
his assassination in 1963.
Mr. Sahl had admired Kennedy
and even contributed one-liners
to his 1960 campaign speeches.
But, fiercely independent and
vowing to make any White House
occupant the butt of his humor,
he let loose when Kennedy won.
He joked about Kennedy’s
wealthy father influencing the
election outcome (“You’re not al-
lowed one more cent than you
need to buy a landslide”), the
Kennedy preoccupation with
communist Cuba and the new
president’s rumored mafia con-
nections.
He incurred the wrath of Ken-
nedy intimates and said his liveli-
hood was threatened. Many
nightclubs, fearing tax audits,
stopped booking him. Some liber-
als in his fan base, having grown
accustomed to gibes about Eisen-
hower and Richard Nixon, aban-
doned him.
Mr. Sahl plowed ahead and
made an even more radical shift
after the assassination.
Deeply shaken by the killing,
he became convinced that the
Warren Commission, which in-
vestigated the assassination, was
a farce and that the CIA had
participated in a plot to kill Ken-
nedy. Onstage, Mr. Sahl read ex-
cerpts from the commission re-
port that he considered f ull of
comically tortured logic, and he
rambled on about various con-

spiracies.
He journeyed to Louisiana,
where the controversial New Or-
leans district attorney Jim Garri-
son deputized him to help investi-
gate an alleged government
coverup. Putting comedy aside,
Mr. Sahl spent several years trav-
eling the country interviewing
witnesses and evaluating evi-
dence.
Invitations to appear on TV
shows and in clubs dried up. In
his 1976 memoir, “Heartland,” Mr.
Sahl wrote that his earnings fell
from $1 million a year to “about
nothing.” But he made a come-
back after Watergate, when his
searing skepticism and dark view
of American leadership better
matched the national mood.
“The harvest of what we found
came out repeatedly afterward in
Watergate, the Iran-contra affair,
the whole idea of shadow govern-
ment and of people who think
they know better what’s good for
Americans,” Mr. Sahl told the
makers of a public television
documentary about him in 1989.
He returned to nightclubs and
had a one-man Broadway show in


  1. Mr. Sahl still impressed with
    his steady supply of zingers.
    One of them involved his
    friend, former secretary of state
    Alexander Haig, and the U.S. em-
    bargo of Cuba. Mr. Sahl ex-
    plained: “I was with him when he
    lit up a Havana cigar, and I asked
    him, ‘Isn’t that trading with the


enemy?’ He told me, ‘I prefer to
think of it as burning their crops
to the ground.’ ”
Morton Lyon Sahl was born in
Montreal to American parents on
May 11, 1927. His father, Harry, a
failed left-wing playwright from
New York, ran a tobacco shop to
support his family. The Sahls later
settled in Los Angeles, and the
elder Sahl became an FBI clerk.
According to Nachman, Harry
Sahl cast a pall over his son’s view
of the world. “It’s all fixed,” he
would tell Mort, referring to show
business. “They don’t want any-
thing good.”
In high school, Mr. Sahl joined
the ROTC, and by his own ac-
count became an expert marks-
man and “something of a marti-
net.” At 15, he enlisted in the Army
by lying about his age. His mother
found him two weeks later and
ushered him home.
Undaunted, he joined the U.S.
Army Air Forces after high school
graduation and was sent to an
outpost in Anchorage, where his
contrarian spirit made an un-
timely emergence. He grew a
beard and tried to turn a base
newspaper, which he edited, into
a muckraking journal. His efforts
earned him ample KP duty before
his discharge in 1947.
He graduated in 1950 from the
University of Southern Califor-
nia. While doing odd jobs, he
wrote a novel and a play that
found no takers.
He followed a girlfriend to San
Francisco, where in 1953 he began
trying out comic material at a
basement bar called the hungry i,
a rendezvous for beatniks that
charged a 25-cent entrance fee.
Mr. Sahl, who had been living
in the back of a station wagon,
said it took three months to get
his first laugh. The winner was a
Cold War joke about McCarthy’s
anti-communist crusades: “Every
time the Russians throw an
American in jail, we put an Amer-
ican in jail to show them they
can’t get away with it.”
His success at the hungry i led
to more prominent engagements
in Los Angeles, New York, Chica-
go, Las Vegas and Miami Beach. A
heavy coffee drinker largely
averse to alcohol and cigarettes,
he led a busy life that took a toll
on his private affairs.
All three of Mr. Sahl’s marriag-
es — to Sue Babior, former Play-
boy centerfold China Lee and
Kenslea Ann Motter — ended in
divorce. His son with Lee, Mort
Sahl Jr., died of a drug overdose in


  1. He had no immediate survi-
    vors.
    Mr. Sahl performed well into
    his 80s, even after a mild stroke.
    He often made light of death, but
    with a sharp political eye. Refer-
    ring to the Windy City’s reputa-
    tion for electoral fraud, he once
    quipped: “I’ve arranged with my
    executor to be buried in Chicago.
    When I die, I want to still remain
    politically active.”
    [email protected]


MORT SAHL, 94


His political comedy set the bar for future humorists


ROBERT W. KLEIN/ASSOCIATED PRESS
Comedian Mort Sahl, seen in 1967, was known for his finely tuned sense of the absurd in sk ewering conservatives such as Sen. Joseph
McCarthy and President Dwight D. Eisenhower, but he experienced harsh backlash when he joked about President John F. Kennedy.

BY HANNAH NATANSON

One of the last school board
meetings of an eventful calendar
year in Loudoun County saw
dozens of parents, residents and
students turn out for dueling
parking lot protests — while in-
side, more than 100 people gave
impassioned and angry speeches,
with many calling for the resigna-
tion of the board and Superinten-
dent Scott A. Ziegler.
Loudoun, a Northern Virginia
district of 81,000, has been roiled
with controversy for the better
part of a year, dominated by
ongoing conflicts over policies
for transgender students and the
district’s equity work. Most re-
cently, top school officials have
faced severe criticism from par-
ents on both sides of the political
aisle for the district’s decision
over the summer to transfer a
high school student accused of
sexual assault to another high
school within the system, where
the student allegedly committed
a second sexual assault. A juve-
nile court judge this week sus-
tained the charges against the
student in the first assault, the
equivalent of a guilty verdict, and
the youth is awaiting trial in the
second assault case.
On Tuesday, many parents
lambasted the school system’s
handling of the sexual assaults,
saying they feared for their chil-


dren’s safety. Board members did
not respond because school pol-
icy does not allow for an inter-
change. Instead, each speaker
gets 60 seconds to share their
views before ceding the floor to
another speaker.
“What is painfully obvious is
your lack of concern for the
children in this community,” said
Loudoun resident Emily
E mshwiller.
“I respectfully ask that the
board resign — you, too, Scott
Ziegler,” said Cheryl Onderchain,
who said her children are en-
rolled at Broad Run High School,
the campus where one of the
assaults allegedly took place.
The controversy over the
school district’s handling of the
sexual assault allegations has be-
come a hot topic in the waning
days of the Virginia governor’s
race. Republican nominee Glenn
Youngkin has demanded an in-
vestigation of the Loudoun Coun-
ty School Board.
The political ties were evident
Tuesday, with many attendees
showing up to the board meeting
in Youngkin apparel. The parking
lot was filled with more signs
than people, most of them read-
ing “Youngkin” or “McAuliffe,” a
reference to Democratic nominee
Terry McAuliffe.
Separated by a sea of those
posters, several dozen protesters
and counterprotesters — some

there to advocate for LGBTQ
students, others to protest trans-
gender rights and the school
district’s handling of the sexual
assault allegations — faced off on
a cold, windy afternoon before
the meeting.
The two camps had little inter-
action. The closest they came to a
clash was when one set of par-
ents, members and supporters of
pro-equity group “Loudoun 4
All ,” played loud music at the
same time as the mostly con-
servative parents across the way
invited a small child to step up to
a microphone and sing the na-
tional anthem.
Inside the building, speakers
filed into the meeting room one
by one to address masked board
members seated behind a wood-
en desk on a raised dais. B oard
rules, adopted after an especially
chaotic June meeting ended in an
arrest, do not permit an audience
during public comments. The
guidelines also mandate that
onl y one speaker at time can
enter the room to address the
board, and that only 10 speakers
total can set foot in the building
simultaneously, after undergoing
a search by security personnel
stationed outside the door.
The scene Tuesday — upset
parents, reporters’ flashing cam-
eras, masked guards stationed at
two corners of the mostly empty
room — was bizarre but familiar

for the county, a f act some speak-
ers recognized.
“I come again in the name of
the Lord,” said Loudoun resident
Rene Camp, a repeat meeting
attendee who held up a sign
reading, “School Board Must Re-
sign!”
“So I’m back again for another
week,” resident Tori Walden said.
“ Welcome,” resident Michael
Rivera said, “to Groundhog Day.”
Loudoun’s nine-member
school board has borne the brunt
of parents’ discontent over the
past year and a half. Five mem-
bers are being targeted in a recall
effort, purportedly over their vio-
lations of open meetings laws,
and one has since resigned.
This fall, enraged parents and
residents have lined up in the
hundreds to deliver diatribes
against the board at contentious
biweekly meetings that f requent-
ly have drawn attention from
conservative pundits and Fox
News. A handful of times, parents
have chanted prayers at the
board.
A loud and vocal contingent of
parents, many of them conserva-
tive and Christian, are upset for a
variety of reasons — from mask
mandates to required bias train-
ing for teachers to sexually ex-
plicit LGBTQ texts in Loudoun
libraries that they find offensive.
Some parents have seized on
news of the assaults to condemn a

policy Loudoun adopted over the
summer that allows transgender
students to participate in extra-
curricular activities and use facil-
ities, including bathrooms, that
match their gender identities.
Loudoun changed its guidelines
for transgender students in re-
sponse to a 2020 state law that
required every district in Virginia
to update school rules to safe-
guard transgender children from
harassment.
The 15-year-old victim in the
first sexual assault case has said
that her abuser was “gender flu-
id,” prompting parental backlash
against the transgender bath-
room policy. That policy was ad-
opted about three months after
the May assault, meaning it was
not in effect at the time. The
second assault, which took place
in October, allegedly happened in
a classroom.
On Tuesday morning, hun-
dreds of students at several Lou-
doun schools held 10-minute
wal kouts to demand the county
protect students from sexual as-
sault. A few hours later, at the
board meeting, others took up
the call.
“It’s morally wrong what he
did, but a new school just means
more new victims for him,” said
Madelyn Jimenez, one of the only
student speakers Tuesday night,
who said she was in eighth grade.
“Things need to change.”

Other speakers Tuesday t ied
the assaults specifically to the
bathroom policy and demanded
the repeal of the transgender
guidelines.
Earlier this month, Ziegler
promised major reforms to Lou-
doun’s disciplinary procedures to
prevent a similar occurrence. Go-
ing forward, Ziegler said, Lou-
doun will ensure that students
involved in major disciplinary
infractions “will have alternative
placements” to keep them sepa-
rate from the general student
body.
After about two hours of public
comments Tuesday, the school
board moved on with little fan-
fare to its regular business, in-
cluding considering a utility ease-
ment at Cool Spring Elementary
School and pondering proposed
renovations at Douglass High
School.
The board also voted unani-
mously to add Title IX reform to
its list of legislative priorities for


  1. Title IX is the federal law
    that guides how schools address
    sexual harassment and assault.
    In the wake of the sexual assault
    revelations, Ziegler had promised
    the school board he would lobby
    to change Title IX, partly to make
    it easier for school districts to
    separate students accused of sex-
    ual assault or harassment from
    the rest of the student body.
    [email protected]


VIRGINIA


Passions, protests flare at Loudoun school board meeting

Free download pdf