David McCallum
It was my last year of grade school, and I faced all the usual crises. My family was about to move about five miles closer to the center of the city because my parents wanted me to attend a different high school than the one serving our current neighborhood. I was about to lose most of my grade school friends because only two others were switching to the same high school. And for some reason the girls, who I had recently become interested in, were not so much interested in our current hero, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Napoleon Solo, played by Robert Vaughn. They had eyes only for the blood sidekick Illya Kuryakin, played by David McCallum.
McCallum died yesterday in New York City at the age of ninety.
David Keith McCallum Jr. was born in Glasgow on Sept. 19, 1933. His mother, Dorothy, was a cellist and his father a violinist and orchestra leader. In 1936, the family headed to England when his dad was hired to guide the London Philharmonic.
His parents wanted him to pursue a career in music, and he learned how to play the piano, the oboe and the English horn. But McCallum figured out early on that what he really wanted to do was be an actor.
“I played the Little Prince in Shakespeare’s King John at one of those local things where people do skits and songs,” he said. “Mine was the little prince having his eyes put out by this terrible man, and I acted it, evidently, very well, because I got a standing ovation. I wasn’t more than eight.
“And I said, ‘Hey, hey, hey, this is kinda cool!’ I don’t know if I consciously thought it, but I had found the place I wanted to be: on a stage, with the lights and makeup and the people.”
It took some time, back in eighth grade, before the girls were willing to explain the allure of the one with the Beatles haircut and British accent. We guys were a little slow in catching on at that age. The experience taught me a lesson about girls. But I was already a fan of the Man from U.N.C.L.E. And of McCallum, Vaughn, and their on-screen boss, the unflappable Mr. Waverly, played by the great character actor Leo G. Carroll.
It is not unusual for there to be an outpouring of memories and professional accolades from coworkers when someone passes. What is unusual in McCallum’s case is the expansiveness of the comments and the references to the humanity of the man.
“Neither one of us, if we had a thousand ways of betting, would have figured out how we would have become rock stars as a result of a normal show,” Vaughn once said. “I have no idea to this day why it happened. The chemistry between the two of us at that time may have never happened again.”
McCallum had more than 120 acting credits to his name and appeared in such iconic films as The Great Escape and A Night to Remember. In addition to U.N.C.L.E., he is equally well known for a role he took up in 2003, forty years after U.N.C.L.E. went off the air. For 20 years McCallum has been “Ducky,” Dr. Donald Mallard, the medical examiner on NCIS, one of television’s longest running scripted programs.
NCIS executive producers Steven D. Binder and David North said in a statement: “For over 20 years, David McCallum endeared himself to audiences around the world playing the wise, quirky, and sometimes enigmatic, Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard. But as much as his fans may have loved him, those who worked side by side with David loved him that much more.
“He was a scholar and a gentleman, always gracious, a consummate professional, and never one to pass up a joke. From day one, it was an honor to work with him, and he never let us down. He was, quite simply, a legend. He was also family and will be deeply missed.”
McCallum had three sons with his first wife, the actress Jill Ireland. And a son and a daughter with his second wife, Katherine Carpenter. He had six grandchildren. Peter McCallum issued a statement:
“He was the kindest, coolest, most patient and loving father,” his son Peter said in a statement. “He always put family before self. He looked forward to any chance to connect with his grandchildren and had a unique bond with each of them. He and his youngest grandson, Whit, 9, could often be found in the corner of a room at family parties having deep philosophical conversations.
“He was a true renaissance man — he was fascinated by science and culture and would turn those passions into knowledge. For example, he was capable of conducting a symphony orchestra and (if needed) could actually perform an autopsy, based on his decades-long studies for his role on NCIS.
“After returning from the hospital to their apartment, I asked my mother if she was OK before she went to sleep. Her answer was simply, ‘Yes. But I do wish we had had a chance to grow old together.’ She is seventy-nine, and dad just turned ninety. The honesty in that emotion shows how vibrant their beautiful relationship and daily lives were, and that somehow, even at 90, Daddy never grew old.”
I did have dinner with Robert Vaughn, who died in 2016, many years ago. That’s a story for another time. But I remember clearly that Vaughn, who you might expect to be less than enthusiastic about talking about a sidekick who became a co-equal star on what was for a time the top show on television, had nothing but praise for his colleague. I wish I had gotten to meet McCallum as well. He will be missed.
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