MALSHER: Goodbye to a car guy

So we've lost another one of those venerable figures who seemed universally loved and respected, a man who surely deserved the spotlight, but never behaved like he needed it. James Garner's easy-going manner probably robbed him of some of the adulation he deserved, but he could live with that. He, like other dignified stars of that generation, probably just smiled wryly and accepted that this world is no longer a place for those who are great at what they do but who aren't prepared to brag about it.

"I came to California, and had an aunt who wanted me to get into motion pictures," Garner told the Television Academy Foundation. "I didn't want any part of that. She had talent scouts come look at me, and I just brushed them off... I read what I read in fan magazines, and I thought, 'Oh my goodness, these people are so phony!' I just hated it."

Yet he knew a means to an end when he saw it, and he took a modeling job (despite hating the phoniness of that, too) while he pondered what he really wanted to do. Thankfully for anyone who cares about good cinema, he chose acting.

Now, I couldn't hope to make this a comprehensive tribute to Mr. James Garner, because acting remained his principal job, and I'm no film/TV critic. In fact, I admit I'm ignorant of even some of his major roles. Yes, I think I've seen all 122 The Rockford Files episodes – some of them many, many times since I have 60 percent of them on DVD – yet only a couple of times have I caught Garner's other great TV role, Maverick. And there are many movies of his that I'd never heard of until spending much of yesterday reading the countless obituaries to this great man. Here, I simply wanted to convey why James Garner became a hero for me.

Then, as the group of PoWs attempted to flee Germany, he was prepared to multiply the risk of getting caught by determinedly escorting Donald Pleasence's character, Colin Blythe, who was now blind. I was dumbstruck at James Garner's nobility. Yes, OK, aged eight, my distinction between an actor and his character was non-existent. But even aged 41, while I'm no longer scared of making Lou Ferrigno angry, I still hold the belief that Garner would have manned up and been that Hendley guy for real.

Some 10 years after that first memory of Garner, I was reading Graham Hill's autobiography and in his brief description of filming John Frankenheimer's movie Grand Prix, he made reference to Garner's considerable talents behind the wheel – in stark contrast with the other actors forced to play racing drivers in that movie. That certainly caught my interest...and then I saw Grand Prix, which did a lot more than that. Garner was the suave, heroic yet very human figure that any adolescent would surely admire. What's the phrase? The kind of guy that men want to be and women want to be with. Yup, forget James Bond; I wanted to be Pete Aron!

More investigation revealed just how deeply into cars Garner was. Here was a celebrity (before that word's default definition became "behaving like a moron and getting your own reality TV show") who, like Paul Newman, wasn't going to make racing his career but who loved it as a hobby, and had the means to get involved. Driving that handsome, rugged Oldsmobile 442 in desert races – the 'Goodyear Grabber' – Garner proved what Graham Hill and Jack Brabham had noted during the filming of Grand Prix: he had genuine talent.

Three-time Indy 500 winner Bobby Unser, who was one of Garner's driving coaches, recalled: "James was a very good student of racing. He really listened – didn't act like he knew everything already. And because he listened, he learned and understood and he became very good, I thought. Yes, I liked him."

And his interests went beyond the instant gratification of driving. Pulled directly from Wikipedia: "Garner was an owner of the "American International Racers" (AIR) auto racing team from 1967 through 1969. Famed motorsports writer William Edgar and Hollywood director Andy Sidaris teamed with Garner for the racing documentary The Racing Scene, filmed in 1969 and released in 1970."

Here's a 5min clip from it:

What I love about Garner's presence at Indianapolis for those three years – 1975, ’77 and ’85 – in which he drove the pace car for the "500", is that, although gratified at the crowd's appreciation of him and happy that it would bring more attention to the already hugely popular Rockford Files, more than anything, I suspect he just loved pacing the field at the world's biggest race. Sure, Garner was in a position to be offered some great opportunities in his life, but you can be sure he appreciated them as an enthusiast like you or I.

There's something else massively appealing about Garner, whether you're a race fan or not. If you read his excellent autobiography "The Garner Files" and read or watch any interviews with him, you'll see that he was able to take pride in his accomplishments and show an awareness of his status without ever descending into egotism or self-absorption. He was modest; he accepted there were actors who had more on-screen presence and acknowledged he'd never had any formal training in his art. But he never sounded deliberately self-effacing in order to prompt sycophantic retorts from an interviewer, writer or reader – "How can this great man not realize that he, too, is one of the icons?" etc.

Despite his relaxed demeanor, Garner was certainly not a pushover. Here was a man who always stood up for what he thought was right. His principles are why he wouldn't allow himself to get fleeced by studio executives who apparently went out of their way to live up to the stereotype of greedy, seedy, slimeballs trying to take financial advantage of the talent put in their charge. His principles are why Garner was front and center (to be accurate, third row from the front) for Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech after joining him for the march on Washington. His principles are why Garner fought for this country in Korea.

And at the other end of the scale of importance, Garner's principles are why, in the final two seasons of The Rockford Files, he quit accepting Pontiac's offer of a new Firebird (pictured, TOP) for each series; he simply didn't like the front-end styling of the post-1978 models. I'm with him on that one, too.

That was a major part of Garner's appeal to so many of us, but there was much more of course. His looks combined matinee idol with trustworthy homeliness. He was openly family-oriented and avoided scandal. And yes, there were Jim Rockford's evasive J-turns in that copper-colored Pontiac Firebird Esprit, one of many maneuvers that must have put as much strain on its auto transmission as his stunts outside a car punished his knees. (There's a grim and probably accurate rumor that Garner's circa-50-year-old body demanded on average one knee operation per series of The Rockford Files).

But most of all, he will be missed because of who and how we believe he was. Only those closest to him could confirm this – like most, I can only go by what I've read or seen of the man – but that old cliché about life imitating art appears to be applicable to James Garner, the man. He truly was the standup guy he so often portrayed on screen. Cool, yes, but warm too.

A sad and fond farewell then, to a gentleman who turned acting without artifice and behaving with decency into heroic qualities. James Garner – the genuine article, and a car guy, too.