If one were to examine the various books and articles that have been written about Bing Crosby since his death in 1977, most of them—with just two or three notable exceptions—have failed to completely reflect the real man and the true nature of his talent and accomplishments.

In his heyday of the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s (and even well into the 1960s), he was easily the best-loved and most respected entertainer in the world. So great were his fame and success that even today no artist can begin to rival his accomplishments.

In a radio career spanning more than twenty-five years, he was number one for eighteen of those years.

As a screen actor, he was the world's number one box office star for five straight years (1944 to 1949) and, as a recording artist, notched up a staggering total of 368 chart entries including thirty-eight number one hits. There's little point in comparing him with Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Michael Jackson, or even Frank Sinatra because none of them even comes close to Crosby.

These are the facts and, without even mentioning his twenty-nine-year career as a TV performer, Bing's place in entertainment history is secure and unassailable. Why, then, is he regarded by the media as something of a forgotten man? I think the answer lies in the man he was. Behind his unparalleled success, Bing Crosby was a genuinely modest man and was anything but a self-promoter. As he approached maturity, he did nothing to hide the fact that he was no longer playing romantic leads. He was content to let the public think of him as an easy-going avuncular pipe-and-slippers suburbanite. He was, in fact, happy that he no longer needed to compete with his contemporaries or with “newer fellas” like Sinatra.

The media, and especially the pop world, have short memories. Today's artists play by a whole new book of rules (“You’re only as good as your last hit”) and to the new show-biz commentators, nostalgia is last Tuesday.