In the end, the audience knew relatively little about the man who walked through those colored curtains every night for three decades, who turned headlines into one-liners, who sat behind that modest desk and asked only that famous faces make him – and us – laugh before bedtime. Johnny Carson wasn’t there to tell his story (unless joking about a divorce or two), but to provide a seemingly nonstop narrative that often turned calamity into comedy and let us breathe a little easier before the lights dimmed. So modest was the man, befitting his Nebraska upbringing, he didn’t even think anyone would want his desk and set upon his retirement. Carson was said to be stunned (and, likely, a little flattered) when Comisar asked to care for it once he said his final “good night” on May 22, 1992. But even now, that set, with its painting of “beautiful downtown Burbank” and the desk that carried Carson to the finish line during his final decade on television, looks ready to host another few decades of banter and bedtime stories.