Herb Denenberg, tireless consumer advocate, dead at 80
TO HIS FOES, he was known as Horrible Herb. To his fans, Herb Denenberg was the little guy, the consumers' pit bull, Philadelphia's Ralph Nader.
TO HIS FOES, he was known as Horrible Herb.
To his fans, Herb Denenberg was the little guy, the consumers' pit bull, Philadelphia's Ralph Nader.
For decades, Denenberg - hell-raising consumer-affairs reporter, former Pennsylvania insurance commissioner, newspaper columnist, author and lawyer - took on makers of products that he deemed flawed, deceptive, overpriced or dangerous.
No one was untouchable. Business giants and the government were on his firing line. Consumerism ran in his veins.
"My greatest satisfaction is keeping some kid from drinking poison or making some governmental agency do what it's supposed to do," he told Time magazine in 1976.
"For relaxation I go out and read food labels."
Herbert S. Denenberg, who won 40 Emmys for his media work and who was a columnist for the Daily News from 1979 until 1981, died Thursday night at his home in Wayne of an apparent heart attack. He was 80.
"When he believed in something, he'd go to the end of the world to prove it," said Paul Gluck, associate professor at Temple University's School of Communications and Theater.
Gluck worked with Denenberg in the 1980s and early 1990s at WCAU-TV (Channel 10), most of the time as Denenberg's producer.
"He was tenacious, forceful, single-minded and focused," Gluck said yesterday. "When he had an objective, he'd get to that objective. When I was producing, he'd debate how long his stories should be. In all things, he refused to give up."
Denenberg was best known for his stint on WCAU during which he was an investigative consumer reporter, from 1975 to 1998. Big shots feared landing in "Denenberg's Dump," which he invented for bad products and broken promises.
His mantra was simple and clear: "The consumer has been screwed long enough."
Denenberg, who was born in Omaha, Neb., had the smarts to back up his words. He had two law degrees and a doctorate in economics, taught at the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton school and served as Pennsylvania's insurance commissioner and public-utility commissioner before his career in television.
In his plain-spoken way, he got results. To mention just one example, his 1983 reports about widespread asbestos contamination in Philadelphia public schools led to massive cleanup.
After Denenberg left WCAU, he continued his consumerism through various cable shows, his blog and a weekly column for the reincarnated Evening Bulletin. He also testified as an expert witness in lawsuits against insurance companies.
He is survived by his wife, Naomi, whom Gluck described as Denenberg's "personal support system."
"He and his wife were inseparable," Gluck said.
"He was a lovely neighbor, a lovely man," said Karen Hull, who has lived near the Denenbergs for 13 years.
"He was quiet, unassuming at home," Hull said. "You wouldn't know he was so well-known. We all miss him."
Even in his younger days, Denenberg didn't have the polished TV look or delivery. He was balding and bespectacled with a nasal twang. He refused makeup, saying it made him look worse.
Daily News columnist Stu Bykofsky, who knew Denenberg for years, said Denenberg had told him that someone in the TV world suggested he have a prominent wart removed from his right cheek.
"Herb refused, saying his wart was his reality," Bykofsky said.
Maybe that's another reason average Joes adored him.
"He was one of the most sincere champions the consumer ever had," Bykofsky said.