For generations of television viewers, the name Harry Morgan is synonymous with the wise and kind Colonel Sherman Potter from the iconic series MASH. His portrayal of the firm yet fatherly commanding officer became the moral compass of the show, a role that defined the latter part of his long and storied career. But the man behind the character was far more complex and his journey to that iconic part was unexpected. Morgan, who passed away in 2011 at the age of 96, left behind a legacy not just of great acting, but of a life lived with quiet dignity and a simple, heartfelt final wish.
Long before he ever set foot in the 4077th MASH unit, Harry Morgan had a different dream. Born Harry Bratsberg in Detroit, he initially pursued a law degree, but the economic turmoil of the Great Depression forced him to change direction. A chance involvement in local theater while selling furniture unlocked a hidden talent, setting him on a path to New York stages and eventually to Hollywood. He built a solid career for decades, appearing in over a hundred films, but it was the role of Colonel Potter that truly captured the hearts of America, earning him an Emmy and a permanent place in television history.
Those who knew him best said that Morgan never lost his Midwestern humility, despite his fame. He was a private man who shied away from the spotlight, rarely giving talk show interviews because he felt uncomfortable focusing on himself. This genuine nature translated seamlessly into his character. In a touching personal touch, he even used his own horse, Sophie, in the series’ emotional finale, a small detail that reflected his deep connection to the role and his life outside of acting. When the show ended, he confessed to a friend a very human worry, wondering who would hire a 72-year-old actor.
Morgan’s personal life was marked by profound love and profound loss. He was married to his first wife, Eileen, for 44 years until her passing, and he kept her photograph on Colonel Potter’s desk as a quiet tribute. He later found companionship again with Barbara Bushman, with whom he shared 25 years. His life, like any, had its challenges, but those close to him, like co-star Alan Alda, remembered him as not having “an unadorable bone in his body.” Morgan himself believed that playing Colonel Potter made him a “better human being,” a testament to the power of the character he embodied.
In his final years, Harry Morgan expressed a wish that was as simple and sincere as the man himself. He hoped to be remembered not for his awards or his fame, but as “a fairly pleasant person” who got along with others and enjoyed a wonderful life. His passing on Pearl Harbor Day felt symbolically fitting for the actor who so perfectly represented the stoic, caring American soldier. Through endless reruns of MASH, his spirit endures—a calming, kind, and deeply paternal presence that continues to welcome viewers into the fold, just as he did for eight unforgettable seasons.
