Honestly, if you close your eyes and think of Munchkinland, you probably hear that high-pitched, nasal proclamation. "As Coroner, I must aver..." It’s one of those movie moments burned into the collective brain of anyone who grew up with a television. But the man behind the oversized hat and the yack-hair mustache, Meinhardt Raabe, was a lot more than just a 30-second cameo in a technicolor fever dream.
Most people know the Wizard of Oz coroner as the guy who legally "verified" that the Wicked Witch of the East was, in fact, "sincerely dead." Yet, the real story of the actor—and the weirdly specific legal language he used—is way more interesting than the urban legends that usually swirl around the 1939 set.
Who was the man behind the scroll?
Meinhardt Raabe didn't just wander onto the MGM lot. Born in 1915 in Watertown, Wisconsin, he was actually a highly educated guy who happened to see the movie as a side quest. At the time of filming in 1938, he was 22 years old.
He wasn't a "professional" actor in the way we think of child stars today. He was a college graduate with a degree in accounting from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Think about that for a second. While he was standing there in a blue robe and a hat that looked like a giant blueberry, he was probably the only person on that set who could have audited the studio's books.
Raabe was about 3 feet, 6 inches tall during filming. He eventually grew to about 4 feet, 7 inches later in life, but in 1939, he was the perfect height for the "Munchkin" aesthetic MGM was desperate to fill.
Getting the job
MGM was scouring the country for "little people." They eventually hired 124 of them. Raabe actually took a leave of absence from his day job to audition. He didn't just get cast because he was short, though. He had a background in public speaking and a voice that carried.
When he walked up those steps during the audition and belted out the lines, the casting director basically hired him on the spot. He was one of only nine Munchkins out of the 124 who actually had a speaking part. That’s a pretty big deal when you consider most of the other actors were just there to fill out the background of the "Lullaby League" or the "Lollipop Guild."
The line everyone misquotes (and misinterprets)
The Wizard of Oz coroner is famous for a very specific four-line poem. It goes like this:
"As Coroner, I must aver,
I thoroughly examined her.
And she's not only merely dead,
She's really most sincerely dead."
What does "aver" actually mean?
For decades, kids (and plenty of adults) have wondered what that first line even meant. Raabe used to laugh about it in interviews. "Aver" is basically a legal term. It means to state or assert something as a fact. It’s the kind of language you’d hear in a courtroom, not a fantasy musical.
Basically, the Coroner was performing a legal inquest right there in the middle of a musical number. The Munchkins weren't just happy the witch was gone; they wanted to make sure they wouldn't get sued for her "accidental" death by house-drop.
The voice behind the mask
Here is a bit of a "ruin your childhood" fact: That wasn't Raabe's actual voice you heard in the film. Like almost all the Munchkin performers, his dialogue was dubbed.
👉 See also: Why Slightly Stoopid at Red Rocks is Still the Ultimate Colorado Summer Rite of Passage
The studio recorded the lines and then sped them up to get that iconic "chipmunk" pitch. The actual singer credited on some soundtrack versions for the Coroner’s bit is Harry Stanton, though the physical performance—the gravity, the scroll-unrolling, the solemn nod—is all Meinhardt.
Life after the Yellow Brick Road
If you think Raabe’s life peaked at 22, you’ve got it wrong. He lived to be 94 years old. He was actually one of the last surviving cast members with a speaking role.
But check this out: For 30 years, he was the face of Oscar Mayer.
You’ve seen the Wienermobile, right? Raabe was the first person to ever drive it. He played "Little Oscar, the World’s Smallest Chef." He traveled the country, did cooking shows, and basically became a marketing legend. He once said that while the movie gave him fame, the hot dog business gave him a career.
A pilot in the war
This is the part that usually blows people away. During World War II, Raabe joined the Civil Air Patrol. He was a pilot. He flew lake patrols and fire watches. He also served as a ground instructor.
He was technically the smallest licensed pilot in the U.S. at the time. He didn't let his stature define what he could do. He had a Master’s degree in business from Drexel, he taught German, and in his 80s, he became a "Master Gardener" in Florida. The guy was a powerhouse.
Debunking the "Dead Munchkin" Myth
We have to talk about it because every time you search for the Wizard of Oz coroner, this creepy urban legend pops up. You’ve probably heard the rumor: in the scene where Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Man are dancing down the road, you can see a "dead Munchkin" hanging in the background.
It’s total nonsense.
💡 You might also like: Mickey Song Lyrics Toni Basil: What Most People Get Wrong
- The Timing: The "hanging" happens in the woods scene. The Munchkins weren't even on set that day. They had already finished their scenes and gone home.
- The Reality: It was a bird. MGM had rented several large birds (including cranes and emus) from the Los Angeles Zoo to make the "forest" look more exotic. One of those birds—likely a crane—spread its wings at the exact moment the actors walked past.
- The Quality: In the old, grainy VHS versions, it looked a bit like a body. But once the film was remastered for DVD and Blu-ray, it’s clearly a bird.
Raabe himself spent years debunking this. He was protective of his "Munchkin family" and hated the idea that people thought one of them had committed suicide on set. The set was stressful, sure—the makeup was toxic and the hours were long—but that specific story is just a spooky campfire tale.
Why the Coroner still matters in 2026
It’s easy to dismiss a character who is only on screen for a minute. But the Wizard of Oz coroner represents a specific era of Hollywood history where "character actors" were essential to world-building.
Without the Coroner’s official decree, the transition from the "fear" of the Witch to the "joy" of her death wouldn't have felt as final. He provided the "legal" transition into the rest of the movie.
Meinhardt Raabe passed away in April 2010. He spent his final years attending Oz festivals and signing autographs for fans who were born sixty years after the movie came out. He never seemed bitter about being "the guy from Oz." He embraced it.
Actionable insights for fans and collectors
If you're a fan of the film or looking to dive deeper into the history of the Munchkin cast, here is what you should actually do:
- Read the Memoir: Raabe wrote a book called Memories of a Munchkin: An Illustrated Walk Down the Yellow Brick Road. It’s the best firsthand account of what it was like to be on that set. It’s way better than any "behind the scenes" documentary.
- Check the Credits: Next time you watch, notice that the Munchkins aren't individually credited. They were collectively called "The Singer Midgets," named after their manager, Leo Singer.
- Visit the Museums: The International Wizard of Oz Club and various museums in Wamego, Kansas, and Chittenango, New York, have actual props and costumes.
- Watch the Remastered Version: If you haven't seen the 4K restoration, do it. You can actually see the texture of the "yak hair" on the Coroner’s face. It makes the craftsmanship of the 1930s stand out.
The Coroner wasn't just a bit player. He was a pilot, an accountant, a spokesman, and a piece of cinematic history. He’s the reason we know for a fact that the witch didn't just faint—she was "really most sincerely dead."