Richard P. Knerr

Rich Knerr, co-founder of WHAM-O, died on Monday. He was 82.

Over the past six months I have had the unique privilege of interviewing Rich for a forthcoming book about WHAM-O’s 60th Anniversary. It is due out in May and I very much wanted to hand him a copy and thank him personally for giving me so much joy through the toy company he and his buddy, Spud Melin founded. The book’s introduction will read, in part:

As a kid, I always had WHAM-O toys close at hand. At the epicenter of our household was the kitchen junk drawer filled with a hodgepodge of writing utensils, batteries, flashlights, a tube of SuperElasticBubblePastic, and an assortment of Super Balls. Yet this stuff was anything but junk. On the contrary, these were items that couldn’t be “put away” for fear that they might be needed at a moment’s notice….Our garage held the larger WHAM-O playthings. Various Frisbee discs, a Trac-Ball set, a water-stained Slip ’n Slide box, all at the ready. A Hula-Hoop hung from the bicycle rack. The closet just off the garage contained wrapping paper, party supplies and a can of Silly String. At any given moment, my brothers, sisters and I were within a few feet of fun. The potential for play was palpable.

I discovered things while at play. I learned that a Frisbee could actually rise on a summer breeze and elevate my mood right along with it. I found out that the sticky mud and itchy grass plastered to my skin could be absolutely ignored if I happened to be standing in a neighborhood line of friends waiting for another trip down the Slip ’n Slide. And I learned, after discovering Super Ball’s lethal second bounce the hard way (with a welt on my cheek to prove it), that playing with it thrilled me even more. There was something about its danger that enticed me to take my lumps and, like my favorite boyhood ball, bounce right back.

Rich Knerr and his lifelong friend and WHAM-O partner, Spud Melin, squeezed every drop of fun they could from life and it showed in all that they gave us. Their TV ads were fun. Their print ads were fun. Their hit toys were fun. Their fads, and even their flops, were fun. For 60 years the family culture they created has endured through the massive number of Hacky Sack and Frisbee fans sharing that family bond.

Rich Knerr and his daughter, Lori Knerr, and Spud’s widow, Suzy Melin, have generously given me something that I have tried to pass on within these pages. After reading this book, it’s my hope that you too, will feel welcomed into the WHAM-O Family.

I did feel welcomed. Rich had trouble breathing and our conversations always started off slow with long pauses for him to catch his breath. I had in mind to keep our chats short, but as his excitement grew in the telling of his stories, his breathing and demeanor improved. Inevitably, he would get lost in the tales and take me right there with him. For that I will always be thankful.

So the book is done, it’s just not published yet. It’s real; it’s just not here physically. Just like you, Rich.

So here you go. I hope you like it. It’s meant a lot to me to get the chance to talk with you. You’re generous with your time and you tell such great stories. You’re quick to laugh and above all, you’re fun! At 82, you’re still a kid! You gave me so much enjoyment throughout my childhood through the toys you produced. Hours and hours and hours of fun. And guess what? I got into the toy business because of crazy inventors like you – creative people that wouldn’t take “No” for an answer. What determination you had! Thanks for inspiring me and many other toy inventors I know. How can we ever repay you?

Richard Knerr
June 30, 1925 – January 14, 2008