THE JOURNAL OF THE CAUCUS: ARCHIVE

Remembering David Levy

By Friends and Colleagues

David Levy was the "heart and mind" of the Caucus for Producers, Writers & Directors during its most productive years. He grasped hold of the organization and its members immediately after the Founders decided the Caucus was a group that could fulfill a greater purpose for television's creative community.

I first knew of David when I worked at Ziv Television. David was at Young & Rubicam at the time and developed the western series Bat Masterson which Ziv produced.
David was appointed vice president of programming for the National Broadcasting Company during its halcyon years and was instrumental in launching shows like Bonanza and Dr. Kildare. He also served as president of the Hollywood Radio and Television Society.

David convinced me that the Caucus would be a place for me to actively pursue the aims and objectives he so carefully created and nurtured, during his many terms as secretary and executive director of the Caucus. David and I worked well together and I was proud that he supported my leading the organization as chairman and co-chair.

David and I ultimately had disagreements over some issues and policies regarding the Caucus, but, in typical "David" fashion, they never affected the civility and gracious style he presented.

David was a tremendously talented man and a leader. We will all remember him for his commitment to the Caucus and to each of us whom he helped to make this an outstanding organization.
Goodbye good man!
Chuck Fries

This is probably the first piece I have written for the Caucus where I haven't been cajoled, manipulated, or shamed into it by David Levy. On second thought, I think I'm writing this one because I'd be ashamed if David somehow knows I wasn't.
David became a member of the Caucus shortly after its formation, and from that moment on, he became its undisputed soul. He could be stubborn, dogged, aggravating and (if truth be told, and when else is it going to be?) even tedious in pursuing what he thought, at the time, was the proper course of action for us. I often disagreed with his specific points of view, but never with his motives, which were invariably to enhance the prestige of the Caucus so that we would be in the strongest possible position in our continuing struggle with the networks to improve the quality of television and to return decision-making powers to the creative community.

David and I together drafted the first Caucus Constitution and the first Aims and Objectives as well as countless revisions and amendments to both. That was only a small part of his contributions to this organization. He was forever meticulous, gentlemanly, articulate, and utterly dedicated to the Caucus and its raison d'etre. When one of us passes, it is almost ritualistic to say we'll miss him. But I shall miss David, and so should we all.
George Eckstein

I will miss…
David's love and awareness of language. His ability to define a linking verb. His abhorrence of today's expletive polluted writing. His impeccable taste, his flawless style in clothes. Casual elegance. A country squire in the wrong time and place. Afternoon teas and in-depth discussions of the unwavering inconsistency of scones. His paternal prodding of writers he respected to write a play, a novel, anything multi-dimensional. Postcards for every occasion, written in his handsome, distinctive, totally illegible hand. His generally over-length, but always profound, letters to the editor. His abiding love of the Caucus. But most of all, I will miss…a friend for all seasons.
Leonard Stern

He was there at the creation; he was a man out of time in our time. He took tea in the afternoons, always wore a jacket and tie, and performed according to the most exacting rules of etiquette.

He was meticulous, disciplined, and demanding. There was, he fervently believed, a right way of doing things. He wished for excellence, he confused end and means.   But notwithstanding his conservative bent, he was a man with ideals.

It was ideas that sometimes got in his way - at least with me.
I have known David Levy since the early sixties; I was a documentary film editor and director in New York. David was vice president of programming for NBC. His tour of duty at the Peacock network had some minor low-lights, but it had more than a good share of highlights, not the least of which was his being the first network executive to buy an independently-made documentary - one made by an outside producer and not by the network's news or public affairs departments. His courage in so doing opened the doors to new ideas. David Wolper's film D-Day became part of the DuPont Show of The Month and stood alongside network produced documentary specials. It changed the way business was being done at the networks.

Since that time, I have always regarded David as an innovator. Many of his colleagues failed to understand that part of him. Yet his achievements support that notion. We The People broke new ground in radio and on television - real people reporting on their doing real things - meaningful things. It was this search for the meaningful that compelled him to keep trying to revive We The People - with me, as late as 1997.

I'm not going to remember David Levy by reporting on his dossier. His resume is a rich one, but none of us want to be remembered solely for his or her work.

I'd rather remember David Levy, the person.

David and I were clearly different people; I was the radical leftist, he was the right leaning conservative. I was the eternal cynic, he, the optimist. I was the anarchist, he, the defender of the law and the establishment. I was jeans and sneakers, he, the suit. Yet we communicated and got things done. We were, one colleague said, strange bedfellows. But David's ability to view the other side made it possible for him to make such liaisons.  He was surely stubborn. He drew many lines in the sand. Yet, at his best, he was a facilitator, he sought consensus. At his worst (and we all have our "worsts"), he was cantankerously contentious.

He was a man in front of whom you felt uncomfortable cursing. Too often, he couldn't see that the times - they were a-changing, that something different was blowin' in the wind. Yet he stayed in the fray, fighting in his old-fashioned way for what he believed to be the old-fashioned verities.

I defended David during his last go-round with the Caucus, when a coalition of members resigned and demanded David's removal as executive director before they would return to the fold. I admired the way David defended himself. To paraphrase Voltaire, I, too, wholly disapproved of what he was saying, but I would defend until death his right to say it.

The "rebellion" focused on David as the cause of the Caucus' perceived decline. I remember David as one of the men responsible for the Caucus' rise. I remember him, too, as a man of dignity when he stepped down as executive director of the Caucus, still wishing for the organization's well-being and continued growth. I truly believe his work with the Caucus assures its future success.

He was perhaps a man of too many words, but in the end, his were carefully chosen words. One could disagree with him but one could also understand where he was coming from and where he was going. How many of us speak with such clarity?

I'll remember David Levy every time I get impatient with the old guard's way of doing things. What I'll remember is his belief in reconciliation and healing, his earnest desire to make things, if not right, work - so that something akin to the right could be achieved.  I'll remember his need to celebrate excellence, his conviction that if we did our collective best we could make a difference.

I would never have voted for him to be president, or governor, or mayor. But I'm happy to have had him - and will always remember him - as a friend.
Robert Guenette

David Levy, a great friend and a great man in many areas of the entertainment fields - particularly television.

I met Mr. Levy about 50 years ago when he was a strong representative of Young & Rubicam, and I was a comparative beginner in the business end of the television field employed by William Morris Agency.

David was involved in many areas, particularly the very successful Addams Family. His many involvements led to NBC, heading its programming division. At all times, he was concerned with quality programming and what was right for the viewing audience. He was a true leader in wishing to have the public know of the quality and type of programs - with standards that the viewing public should know in advance of what to see and expect.

David became very important as the executive director of the Caucus for Producers, Writers & Directors. In their growth period money was important, so he became one of the leaders of the group known as "The Chairs Council" to help obtain money for its important creative activities. He was very beneficial in acquiring Eastman Kodak's assistance to underwrite some of the Caucus' important activities including the production and distribution of The Caucus Quarterly - an important industry publication. David was also a frequent contributor of interesting and appropriate articles for the publication.

David was a very important mentor of the Producers Guild and sought justifiable recognition of the group by the television industry and its viewers. His dedication to the Caucus and the dedication of the Caucus to the best interests of the viewing public was thoughtful and helpful. His voice, his views, his personal involvement will all be missed.
And all that - a great friend!
Sam Sacks

I have known David Levy most of my life. We first met when he was dating his first wife who happened to be the sister of one of my high school classmates in Great Neck, Long Island. Immediately after World War II when I began my career in television, David was an executive at Young & Rubicam in New York, and we did business together. When I moved to California in the '70s we renewed our friendship, and David introduced me to the lady who became my wife. In short, David has been in my life in one way or another since I was a teenager. Through all his lifetime accomplishments, David displayed a passion for keeping the broadcast media on the highest possible plane. The only times I recall David expressing outrage was when he viewed programs which contained bad language or inappropriate sexual activity. David lived his life as a gentleman and expected his associates to do the same. He valued the friendship of his peers, and he was dedicated to whatever cause or organization he joined. He gave of himself freely and constantly. During the long period of his illness, he was sorely missed, and now his absence will be deeply felt by everyone who knew him.
Ted Bergmann

David Levy, programming chief for NBC, was a man who I'd not had the pleasure of meeting, when I put in a call to him after viewing the first day of film for a pilot for MGM. The performances were impressive, and aware that the network was about to lock up its schedule for the coming season, I was determined to show him our film and obtain his support.

"Sorry, but I have a noon plane to catch for New York tomorrow," was his reply, to which I then pleaded, implored, and almost in tears replied: "Please, Sir! You'll never forgive yourself if you miss seeing our film!"

There was a long pause, then: "Okay, if you can get Metro to bring in a projectionist for tomorrow, Saturday, I'll be there."

The next day it was pouring rain as I picked him up, but there we were, alone, watching the film in the Thalberg building. When we finished, David turned to me with a big grin and said: "Now, if you get me to that plane on time, I'll get your Dr. Kildare series on our schedule.

That was David, decisive and determined, who later led the Caucus For Producers, Writers & Directors, helping to shape a course which brought respect to the creative community. Without fear he plunged into the fray when attacked for his beliefs, and he encouraged writers and fought for them to be able to "tell it like it is."
Norman Felton

In 1960, I produced my first documentary film, The Race for Space. Although I had a sponsor, the three networks would not put it on the air because their news departments said only they could produce documentaries in-house. No outside shows allowed.  In 1961, my documentary about the history of silent films, Hollywood: The Golden Years, was sold to Proctor and Gamble. Lee Rich and Grant Tinker were with Benton and Bowles. They were the ones that bought it. They arranged a screening for David Levy, who was NBC chief of programming. He loved it and in spite of some considerable resistance he put it on the NBC network and it got great ratings and reviews. He made possible my first network television program. Thank you, David, wherever your are.
David L. Wolper