Local TV legend “Brakeman Bill” McLain passes away at age 96
Apr 10, 2024, 12:20 PM | Updated: 1:17 pm

Brakeman Bill was played by native Tacoman Bill McLain on channel 11 from 1955 to 1975; his sidekick was a sock puppet named Crazy Donkey, operated and voiced by Warren Reed. (Courtesy Tacoma Public Library)
(Courtesy Tacoma Public Library)
Brakeman Bill McLain, longtime beloved kids’ TV show host, has passed away, according to 聽 In 2021, we caught up with Bill for this profile piece, when he was in his 90s, and still chuggin’ along. RIP.
Original story
For some kids 鈥 not to mention any names 鈥 summer vacation used to mean sitting around and watching a lot of TV. And one of the things that kids around here used to watch 鈥 again, not to mention any names 鈥 was The Brakeman Bill Show on Channel 11.
With unfounded rumors swirling on social media earlier this week, 成人X站 Radio caught up with the Brakeman, who鈥檚 still chuggin鈥 along well into his nineties.
Bill McLain lives in University Place near Tacoma. He鈥檒l be turning 94 in a few weeks and he鈥檚 still married to Jean, his high school sweetheart from their time together at Tacoma鈥檚 Lincoln High School in the early 1940s.
McLain is better known as Brakeman Bill, host of The Brakeman Bill Show on Channel 11 鈥 which was originally known as KTNT (for The News Tribune, the newspaper also owned by the Baker family) and became KSTW — for 20 years, from 1955 to 1975. On the daily live afternoon program, he showed cartoons, drew funny sketches, and engaged in witty repartee with a sock puppet named Crazy Donkey. This hosiery Equus asinus supplied the show with a kind of kinetic kookiness, courtesy of the man whose hand was in the sock and who did the ad lib voicing: the energetic and imaginative Warren Reid.
Brakeman Bill wore socks, too, of course, but he was better known for his train-inspired wardrobe of overalls and striped railroad hat. Wearing this uniform on the Tacoma set of the show, Bill operated a model train called the Cartoon Special.
Nearly 50 years after the Cartoon Special tooted its whistle for the last time and the show left the air, Bill McLain still has trainloads of devoted fans. Even in his street clothes, he鈥檇 often get recognized, beginning back in the 1950s.
鈥淚 still do,鈥 McLain told 成人X站 Radio. 鈥淓very once in a while, I’ll get a double take or a triple take. [They鈥檒l say], 鈥楬e looks familiar.鈥 Once in a great while, someone will say, 鈥楢ren鈥檛 you Brakeman Bill?鈥 And I say, 鈥榊es.鈥欌
Appearing live on TV every afternoon, especially from the 1950s to the 1970s, created a special relationship between Brakeman Bill and many of his young viewers.

鈥淢y audience, a great deal of them, were latchkey kids,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淭hey came home from school, and there was nobody there. So, they went and turned the TV on and there I was. I had the afternoon show, JP [Patches]聽had the morning show.鈥
鈥淚 was their surrogate parent,鈥 he added.
This 鈥渟urrogate parent鈥 effect was something that the late Chris Wedes 鈥 who played JP Patches on 成人X站 TV from 1958 to 1981 鈥 also experienced, and often got choked up about with pesky local historians. It鈥檚 not an overstatement or an exaggeration to say that in the years before syndicated cartoons and other national programming displaced guys like Brakeman Bill and JP Patches, there was something special for many kids watching local hosts on local TV and then being able to meet those hosts in real life, too.
Whatever the reason, the effect was real and it was strong, and it had staying power. It鈥檚 translated into a lot of love between local hosts and local fans that鈥檚 still manifesting for both parties decades and decades after the shows went off the air.
鈥淚 was at the barber shop and one gal came up to me and started crying,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淎nd she said, 鈥榊ou don’t realize how much you meant to me and other kids like me. We were so alone and all we had was you.鈥欌
鈥淲hen I went to pay for it, 鈥 she鈥檇 bought my haircut,鈥 he said, clearly moved by the gesture.
鈥淎nd that was not unusual,鈥 McLain continued. 鈥淎 lot of times, people give me big hugs and all. One of my fan clubs was a bunch of loggers up in Morton. Figure that one out,鈥 McLain said, chuckling.
鈥淔rat houses at the universities had Brakeman Bill fan clubs,鈥 he said. 鈥淒ifferent era.鈥
Much of Bill McLain鈥檚 life and career has unfolded in “different eras” 鈥 from growing up with modest means on McKinley Hill in Tacoma during the Great Depression to serving in the Navy in the Pacific in the final months of World War II, and then working in morning radio and sportscasting in Ellensburg and Yakima in the late 1940s and early 1950s, to coming home to Tacoma in his late twenties to work for KTNT 鈥 as a camera operator for the TV station and sports director for the radio station.
Camera operator McLain became Brakeman Bill only after the program鈥檚 original host 鈥 a character known as Engineer Walt, played by future media historian and Puget Sounds author Dave Richardson 鈥 came down with a debilitating case of polio.
The Tacoma show, with its railroad theme and model train set, was based on a similar program in Los Angeles that had quickly become a moneymaker. With the first wave of baby boomers in full bloom of their Eisenhower-era childhoods, there was money to be had selling live ads for stuff like Bosco chocolate syrup and Tree Top apple juice.
And then there was the wardrobe. Unlike JP Patches or even Gertrude (played by the late Bob Newman), Brakeman Bill didn鈥檛 have to put on clown makeup. His identity was that of working railroad guy, and McLain still has at least one pair of overalls and one striped hat, though it鈥檚 been a while since he鈥檚 worn them out anywhere.
鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 remember, even,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 been so many years. I think the last time was when they dedicated a locomotive out in Fife — the last hurrah.鈥
The last hurrah for the TV show was even further in the past 鈥 way back on April 1, 1975 鈥 or more than 46 years ago. And Brakeman Bill blames the show鈥檚 demise, at least partially, on, of all people, the beloved, beatific late public TV kids鈥 show host Fred Rogers.
鈥淲ell, I hate to say this, but I thought Mister Rogers was a wimp,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淗e just came across so soft. Not to knock him, but he was one of the guys that took me off the air. The PBS people decided that live entertainers like me, live hosts of kids鈥 shows who were selling bicycles on the air to kids that couldn’t afford a bike, and selling breakfast cereals that rot their teeth out, and toy commercials that poor kids couldn鈥檛 afford鈥 had undue influence over those kids.
The belief was that guys like Brakeman Bill and JP Patches had too much influence over young minds. That is, when that 鈥渟urrogate parent鈥 promoted some toy or food product on his show, the kids in the audience took it as a command from their TV friend to buy, or to tell mom or dad to buy it for them.
That was 鈥渁 bunch of hooey,鈥 says Bill McLain. But, the private trade group for radio and TV, the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB), came under pressure from the Federal Communications Commission to do something about it on their own, or face new federal regulations.
鈥淪o the NAB passed a rule [聽[for] the broadcasters, and I could no longer do live commercials,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淭hat was the end of my show.鈥
When those commercials went away because of changes to the NAB Code in 1973 鈥 a change that people like Fred Rogers and others, such as the group Action for Children鈥檚 Television, had called for 鈥撀 so did the revenue. That train, and that cash 鈥 and, this Brakeman 鈥 left the station.
After the show went off the air, Bill McLain transitioned to management, spending the next two decades or so as head of promotions for KSTW. But he continued making personal appearances as Brakeman Bill, including school fundraisers where he鈥檇 split ticket revenue with the particular PTSA, and several editions of the 鈥淣orthwest TV Holiday Reunion鈥 at MOHAI in the early 2000s.
Along with the PTSA fundraisers 鈥 and a fairly serious second career as an oil painter 鈥 Bill and wife Jean had at least one more surprising side hustle.
鈥淎 lot of people don鈥檛 know what I did for my vacations,鈥 McLain said. 鈥淚 taught dancing on cruise ships. I had an agent in Miami, Florida, and I liked to go for long [cruises], like 45 days, from San Francisco to Australia.鈥
His best step? The cha-cha, Bill McLain says (and his wife agrees).
Another more brilliant step was McLain鈥檚 savvy move to copyright the character of Brakeman Bill for himself 鈥 since the TV station owners had neglected to 鈥 which gave him more control over the TV program, and things like revenue from public appearances and vacation scheduling, than his contemporaries such as JP Patches and Gertrude had.
鈥淏ecause I owned the copyright for the show,鈥 McLain said, 鈥淚 could turn it over to Crazy Donkey and Warren would do the show while I was gone.鈥
That is, Crazy Donkey 鈥 a puppet 鈥 would serve as fill-in host without Brakeman Bill or any other human help. Warren Reid, the voice and arm of Crazy Donkey, passed away in 1986.
There are at least two known authentic Crazy Donkey puppets. On the left is one that was donated to MOHAI by Warren Reid’s family; puppet shown in center and right belongs to private collector Tim Brown, and was acquired from the Reid family. (Photos courtesy MOHAI and Tim Brown)
At 93, Brakeman Bill still has a lot of control over many aspects of his life. But his wife Jean McLain did let 成人X站 Radio in on a little secret.
鈥淵ou’re lucky that you called him [this afternoon],鈥 Jean said, chuckling. 鈥淏ecause I had him out in the yard working and he hates yard work. All this time [he was talking with you], I had to do the yard work, and he got away with not doing it.鈥
Back in the 1990s, before he freed up his schedule for avoiding yard work, and when he was still promotions director at Channel 11, McLain was involved in the most recent attempt to produce a local kids鈥 program.
The show was called Ranger Charlie and Rosco, and it featured a raccoon puppet created and performed by Winslow Barger. The program lasted a few years and went through a few iterations. The final co-host, when the program had morphed into Rosco and Ronnie, was played by , who nowadays is a meteorologist for Q13.
Even if there was someone qualified to don the sock puppet, it鈥檚 not likely that local kids鈥 TV shows will ever be a “thing” again in the Puget Sound area or anywhere; the economics don鈥檛 really pencil out, and the audience has moved on to other more portable platforms. Latchkey kids everywhere are, so far in this century, tuning into apps that readily serve up millions of hours of on-demand content.
However, should those latchkey kids one day want to show their gratitude for the entertainment and for being kept company, they might have a hard time finding anyone connected to that on-demand content whose haircut they can pay for.
You can hear Feliks every Wednesday and Friday morning on Seattle鈥檚 Morning News, read more from him鈥here, and subscribe to The Resident Historian Podcast聽here. If you have a story idea, please email Feliks鈥here.