Dick Cavett: I had written to him.  And he asked me to come out.  When the door opened, there was someone and it wasn’t quite Stan Laurel.  And then I noticed one ear.  And then it became Stan Laurel as I went back to the face.  And he had– I never knew if the speech impediment was his character’s speech or his own.  But he had what I think is called a bilateral sibilance.  So that it came, “Well, that– it certainly is nice to meet you.”  And then spent two enchanted hours with Stan Laurel. Talked about how he hated seeing the movies on the local channels during the day and during the morning and– and he said– ’cause they cut them up so badly and so stupidly and they kill jokes.  And the station that was running them– he offered to– go in and cut them for them and reedit them so they’d be funnier.  He said, “But they never bothered to answer my letters, so I never did– “  Some 15 something employee probably thought– “There’s some old fart wants to come in and edit his movies or– “

Tommy Smothers: When Dick was really good, if he really got on my case, the audience would sometimes boo him. Actually hiss a little bit and boo. And it kind of hurt his feelings. I said “that’s – you’re really doing a good job.” Bud Abbott was relentless on, on Lou Costello. Just relentless – he – didn’t show any humanity or – but you believed him. And people believed my brother too so when really gets – he’d do this one litany, about five or six lines in a row, when we were recording an album in St. Louis and he said “you’re stupid. You’re dumb. You’re not a man. You’ve never done anything right. You’re a failure. Da da da da.” And he finished up, he ran out of things and – and “You’ll never amount to anything.” And I said, “Yeah, and mom liked you best.” It was like the – and just the audience fell apart. Don’t know where it came from. So it – we have one enduring, uh, idea that will always live on with the Smothers Brothers, that mom always liked you best. We’re the universal, uh, feeling that every child, every sibling has had somewhere along the line. Or who did she like best? And that became kind of a little mantra.

Joan Benny: My father was a very good friend of Harry Truman, when Harry Truman was in the White House.  And my father went to visit him.  And they used to play duets, cause Truman played the piano.  And they loved to play duets together.  So my father goes to the White House, and he’s carrying his violin case, and he gets there, and the guard – security, of course, says, “Mr. Benny, I hate to ask you this but I have to.  What are you carrying in that case?  And my father to be funny said, “a machine gun.”  And the guard said, “Oh thank God, I thought it might be your violin.”