"For generations, immigrant kids have often looked to TV shows to pick up colloquialisms, figure out what to wear and other aspects of American life that our immigrant parents couldn’t teach us," says Marina Fang. Full House, in particular, helped immigrant kids learn English and about kindness. “It’s hard to raise a child in a country that you weren’t raised in before,” says Sammy Parvatini, a college student, who watched Full House with her immigrant parents from India. “My parents basically got an insight from Full House to know, like, ‘OK, this is how it works.’” For Dave Chan, whose family immigrated from Hong Kong to the San Francisco Bay Area in the mid-80s when he was 7, Full House helped to demystify American culture. “Here I am at school, getting picked on a lot for looking different, not speaking English well," he says. "But then I would still have people that were kind to me. I just couldn’t relate to this new culture that well. Watching this family, I think I was too young to understand the premise of the show. I just thought it was an American family. This is what they do, and here’s a cool uncle, and here’s a cool friend.” He remembered feeling a connection to Saget, who radiated warmth as patriarch Danny Tanner. “The way he spoke was very intentional and slow and deliberate, and he seemed to spend a lot of time trying his best,” Chan said. “It turns out he’s like that in real life. I think it was the way he spoke that was so eloquent to me. And even not knowing the language as a kid, I don’t know. I was drawn to it.” Chan added: “I never thought of him as white, for some reason. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because he seemed like a father figure to me. I never thought of him as this white guy. It was just like, ‘I know him.’”
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Drew Carey recalls Bob Saget mentoring him: "I met him when I first started out, quite a few times, at a local comedy club in Cleveland," Carey recalled to E.T. "Once, he invited me to a taping a Full House when I was out here in L.A., and it's one of the reasons I missed my first Tonight Show (performance). That invitation to go see the taping, in some kind of weird way, really affected much of my career. He was very supportive and mentored me and gave me advice and was always so kind to me and nice." Carey remembered how, before he was ever a working comic himself, he would go see Saget do stand-up and it was an amazing experience. "I would just go as a customer and seeing him when he was there, and he would pack the place because he had such a good rep," Carey recalled. "Once he was there once, everybody wanted to come back and see him again. And I've seen him do two hour shows, two-and-a-half hour shows. I've once seen him do five curtain calls, five standing ovations... He was so funny."
Candace Cameron Bure shares a lengthy tribute to her TV dad: "Oh, Bob. Why’d you have to leave us so soon?" she wrote on Instagram. "We are all family, but you were the glue. The sticky, messy, squishy, sweet, lovable glue. My childhood is wrapped up in you, my formative teenaged years and the rest of adulthood. You taught me to feel deeply at such a young age. You were never afraid or ashamed to share your emotions, to cry, to love, to laugh and say it out loud. We’ve always been so deeply connected since the day we met when I was 10 years old. You weren’t just like a father, but one of my closest friends in life. This hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I love you, I love you, I love you. You knew that. I knew that. But I have to say it again. I want one more hug. I want one more text that says, “oh, btw, it’s me Bob” after a long rant. I want one more laugh. I want to roll my eyes at you one more time. I want you to tell me to watch something but then tell me maybe I shouldn’t because of my faith. You were always so protective of me, and cared about everything. And everybody. You were the best. You were… Bob. There will never be another like you. I wish you could see the outpouring of love you have. You’ve certainly left a beautiful legacy in kindness, compassion, loyalty, generosity, and love."
What it was like opening for Bob Saget on the road and being his "underwear guy": "Comics are known for being socially awkward and aloof when we’re offstage, so my method was to always give the headliner his or her space when I first met them," says Chip Chantry. "But Bob did not want space. When we were first introduced in that Portland green room, he was laboring over his phone. Without getting into details—even now I’m sure he wouldn’t want anyone to feel bad—he wanted to block someone on Twitter, but he didn’t want to hurt this person’s feelings. He immediately explained the delicate situation, and asked for my advice. Wait, Danny Tanner, legendary advice-giver, wanted my advice? At first, I did not want to interfere. But he genuinely wanted my opinion, so I gave it to him. Once we put out his Twitter fire, Bob wanted to know everything about me. There wasn’t much to tell. I was (and let’s face it, still am) a relatively unknown comedian from Bob’s hometown of Philadelphia. But for the rest of that week, Bob made me feel like we were best friends. Every night after the shows we’d go out for dinner and drinks. That’s where I learned that Bob had a lot of best friends. Whoever was talking to him, whether it was a fan, a waiter, or a celebrity who came to the show, he was completely engaged in the conversation. It looked exhausting. But he did it effortlessly. He treated every conversation like it was the most fascinating exchange he’d ever taken part in." He adds: "Friendship is a two-way street, though. I opened for Bob at the Sands Casino in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. This show was the end of a two-week road trip for Bob, and he was short on clean laundry. An hour before showtime, Bob called asking if I could do him a huge favor, and go down to the casino mall to buy him some underwear. He couldn’t go down there, because he’d be swarmed. But I, he said without saying, was completely unknown, so I’d be fine."