The Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C., boasts an impressive collection of iconic television artifacts. This collection provides an in-depth look into some of the most significant television shows of all time. Among the treasured items are Mr. Rogers’ sweater, a sign from Sesame Street, and a screen-worn Hawaiian shirt from Magnum P.I. However, the most recognizable and astounding piece in the collection is undoubtedly the chair that Archie Bunker sat in on All in the Family.
Imagine Archie Bunker. He’s likely sitting down, isn’t he? While the show’s dialogue made it memorable, the set made it believable. The 704 Hauser Street set had a specific, lived-in feeling that grounded the characters in reality. The centerpiece of this household was Archie’s chair. Now, the original chair (along with Edith’s) resides in the Smithsonian. When the first chair was donated for an exhibit in 1978, it cost the producers thousands to create an exact replica.
Norman Lear, the series’ creator, spoke to The Los Angeles Times in 1978 about the ceremonial process of displaying the now-famous chair. It was a family affair; Lear’s mother, Jeanette Lear Gladstein, was present to share her thoughts.
Lear asked his mother what she thought of whenever she saw Archie take his place in the chair on TV.
“Your father’s red leather chair,” she replied. “Anyone could sit in it when he wasn’t home, but when he was there…”
It was no coincidence that Archie’s chair resembled Norman Lear’s father’s chair. All in the Family was always rooted in real people and real experiences.
“My father’s chair was the focal point of the den,” Lear recalled. “On Sunday nights, the family would gather to listen to Jack Benny, Eddie Cantor, and Fred Allen on our old Atwater-Kent radio. My father would sit in that chair and control the dials. When I wrote All in the Family, it was natural that Archie would have his own chair and control the television set.
“I’d sit in it whenever he went out, listening to the Friday night fights, pretending I was my father.” Lear’s father had passed away seventeen years before the chair entered the exhibit.
“I think about him a lot,” Lear reflected. “I hope he knows somewhere that this is happening tonight.”