Clown with cancer still in character

Devoted fans of the clown J.P. Patches lined up by the hundreds Sunday for a chance to say hello and get an autograph from the iconic entertainer Seattle kids of any age will always call their own.

They came from Wenatchee and Hoquiam, from all over Seattle, and mostly, from far back in their childhoods.

Patches — that's Chris Wedes, of Edmonds — had, because of ill health, first canceled the appearance, scheduled at the Seattle Aquarium as a feature of the annual Trick or Treat on the Waterfront. Wedes, 79, is battling blood cancer and requires dialysis three times a week.

"They say it's controllable," Wedes said. "I'm feeling a lot better than I was a few months ago." So he decided to make the appearance after all, and he hopes he will be at future events, as his health allows.

"The J.P. Patches Show" was one of the longest-running local live TV shows in the country, appearing on KIRO from February 1958 until September 1981. Wedes said he feels lucky to have enjoyed his show at least as much as his fans: "Going to work was a joy."

The cast ad-libbed every show, never using a script, and Wedes was known for a wit that appealed to kids and adults alike.

Rin Jones, 65, of Woodinville, checked over the merchandise table, looking for anything he didn't already own. "I never missed a show; morning didn't start until I'd seen J.P.," Jones said.

"Why is there the eternal appeal? You never knew what was going to happen on the show, and every day, there were things that didn't work, and there were jokes that were so good the director would be laughing, and the camera would be shaking because the cameraman was laughing. Nothing would happen for five minutes because everyone was in stitches."

Jones said he couldn't wait to get home from school to see Patches again for the afternoon program. "Even when I was in college, I'd try to be near a TV in the afternoon. It was the interplay, the interaction and the humor."

On Sunday, Wedes posed for pictures with kid after kid — and with plenty of men and women. He autographed everything from T-shirts to bobblehead dolls as fans snapped up J.P. Patches merchandise from the signing table. Meanwhile, Wedes kept up his trademark patter. "Here, let's get his good side," he said to one boy, spinning his rump toward the camera.

Wedes said he, too, was astounded at the popularity of the Patches character. "It amazes me," Wedes said. He thought one reason might be the approach he took on the air. "I was never a Goody Two Shoes on TV," Wedes said.

Some traveled miles to thank J. P. Patches for the happiness he put in their childhood. "I'd kiss you, but I'd ruin your makeup," said Yvonne Larsen, 49, who came from Wenatchee to get her picture taken with Patches. "Don't think I'm stalking you. I just love you so much."

Patches had been part of her life nearly every day growing up, she explained.

Some parents passed along the Patches attachment to the next generation. Scott Cokeley Jr., 6, who came all the way from Hoquiam, turned out in his own homemade J.P. Patches outfit, complete with red nose, blue cheeks, one red sneaker and one blue sandal, topped off with his dad's yellow slicker. He was too young to have ever seen the show on TV, but his dad made sure he saw videos of the programs. "I like the sets," he said. "They're made of wood."

His father, Scott Cokeley Sr., lamented there is nothing like the Patches show for kids on TV today, a theme sounded by other parents. "It's the clean humor," Cokeley said. "There was a lot of warmth."

Lynda V. Mapes: 206-464-2736 or lmapes@seattletimes.com